Sea Kayaking Beyond the Break

Chasing Rainbows

2012-01-08T23:30:00.000Z

Taking the Cetus out for the first paddle of the year.

No gold found though

Raynard's Cave at Tresillian Bay on the Bristol Channel

Cockney Visitation

2011-12-31T21:47:00.000Z

Paul comes down to South Wales for a spot of chilly post Christmas paddling in the surf at Porthcawl. More about it here.


At least we got out for a few hours - didn't go far, just played in the surf

Loaned Cetus from P and H

2011-12-10T23:50:00.000Z

P and H have kindly sponsored both Paul and myself for the circumnavigation of Britain. While they build my boat they have kindly provided me with a demo Cetus to start paddling with. The boat they are building will be the new Cetus HV, slightly different to the original Cetus, but that's for another time.

Some more pics here.

Playing in the soup with the Cetus

very refreshing!

Paddling Challenge

2011-12-10T11:29:00.000Z

It's been a little manic to say the very least over the last few months and as such the blog has taken a bit of a back seat. I've committed to partake in an exciting adventure with a gent who was looking for a partner to circumnavigate the UK by sea kayak.

One thing has let to another and I'm now trying to play catch up. The trip is due to begin in April 2012 so getting hold of a boat and various kit has taken a high priority, and various other logistical aspects are competing for attention. The tick list is long and nowhere near finished - the list that is - not the ticking off of the items on it!

In an attempt to move into some form of mobile blogging arrangement I've chosen to move to wordpress, so have been setting up a website for the circumnavigation expedition.

The story kind of starts here. I hope you enjoy the ride - it's starting to build momentum and take on a life of it's own.

www.kayakaroundtheuk.co.uk

Sea Kayak Stolen

2011-12-09T00:16:00.000Z

My mate, Chris, has had his green plastic P&H Scorpio kayak stolen from South Wales , Serial no: XJBFANCJE909, please keep eyes and ears open.

Anyone see one for sale or seen one on top of a vehicle in South Wales last day or so please drop him a line. Zero7973 519561.

Chris in his Scorpio

Going out for a BANG!

2011-11-05T14:34:00.000Z

Clear sky and a fairly calm sea, I sent out a late round robin e-mail to see who fancied a night paddle out across the bay from Ogmore to Porthcawl and catch the fireworks displays from the water. Chris and Jim were up to the foray.

Ok, sorry, I have to admit that the pics are pretty dire, but they do have this arty feeling to them that sort of conveys the mood out on the water and its quite hard to hold a camera steady while popping about.

I was pleased to get out to watch the fireworks at last-have been trying to do it a few times, Jim popped his night paddling cherry and a great evening paddle was enjoyed by all.

Red sky at night

Who ate all the pies?

Tweedledum and Tweedledee?

Waiting for the sun to go down

More Storms and Assessed in Anglsey

2011-10-23T01:51:00.000+01:00

With a day of playing and enjoyment under my belt followed by an evening of frivolity partaking in a mixture of the hilarious and sometimes down right embarrassing acts of the "Around the Stacks" quiz night, I devote the remaining two days to the sobering task I've set myself at the end of the week which is to be assessed for the BCU four star leadership award. This was to be the culmination to my thoughts started back in the spring of 2009. So to bolster confidence I begin by partaking in a leadership session headed up by Nick Cunliffe. In strong southerly force 6 winds, but to look at the photos you wouldn't believe it, our small group take it in turns to lead the others as a group along the coast to various destinations. This tested our group management skills around headlands, rock gardens and landings.


consensus of opinion of ones current location is . . .

There was little bit of a swell running that made our rock hopping session quite fun, culminating in me getting the Cappella entirely airborne, and at one point taking a rocky swim. Shame there were no pics as I understand it was quite entertaining.

The evening shenanigans was started off by a very frank presentation delivered by Jeff Allen, "In to the Wind", where he recounted his and Harry Whelan's recent record breaking achievement of the circumnavigation of Ireland in 25 days. If you get the chance to hear Jeff give this talk, take it, as it is a very open and honest account of their experience. It has an underlying message of how not to undertake a paddling expedition, where uncompromising goal setting can undermine sound judgement and decision making.

The last day of the gathering I went to a rolling clinic run by the betrothed partnership of Helen Wilson and Mark Tozer to resurrect my drysuit bloated roll.

Watching Helen perform her rolls you feel the need to be whisked off to some far eastern country, shave off all your hair, begin to chant daily, only to return when you can transcend yourself into some zen like state of being. I really, really want one of her ultra cool stealth invisible paddles.

Returning to my tent I got into the lotus position to wait out the next two days, mentally preparing myself for the forthcoming four star assessment. Anyone might think I was apprehensive.

After 2 days R&R I joined Francesco (Sicily), Mikael (Sweden) and Beat(Switzerland), to form an international group of kayakers ready for assessment.
By then the wind had subsided to just about force 5 and the sea state had calmed right down, this gave our days assessor, Axel Schoevers, a bit of a task to find us some challenging conditions in which to test our self rescue, towing, navigation and paddling skills. But he did.

The second day's weather had built up to provide excellent conditions for today's assessment which would consist of: leadership; group management; rescue skills; navigation and paddle skills, assessed by Kate Dufus. Kate had just completed an attempt at the current circumnavigation of Anglesey the previous day.

What if Mikael were to capsize (deliberately) right now, what would I do?

Kate kept us all on our toes during our turns of "leading", throwing in various incidents. It was actually very good fun. I think everyone managed to relax and actually enjoy the experience.

Sunshine even

Which way?

Beat enjoying a swell time

Kate incident planning or planning an incident?

Beat unflinchingly enjoys a bit of clapotis

Kate having a blast!

We all return to dry land to be debriefed individually by both Axel and Kate. After being given pointers for continued improvement we were all to be awarded with our stars. Happy bunnies all around, and a very satisfying conclusion to a few great days paddling "up north".

Storm Gathering 2011

2011-10-22T23:30:00.000+01:00

It's was three years ago that I last ventured up to Anglsey. The island is situated at the north westerly tip of Wales and has some exceptional tide races to lure paddlers to play. It was stormy then, and it promised to be stormy again for the 2011 Storm Gathering. With the weather blowing a good southerly F6-7 there was to be no playing out on the races, and with pretty much everywhere having rough water and high winds I decided that a spot of surfing would be just the ticket to get me into the groove.

Rhosneigr for a spot of surfing

Surfing the plastic Cappella was fun - but turning around in all that wind was a bit of an effort. I took the opportunity to try out a P&H Delphin, it was a surf specification version. Shorter than the Cappella and with an excellent fitting seat and a lot of rocker it was just the job. Turning in the wind was so so easy, and surfing it was the most fun I've had in a long boat. I loved it so much I didn't want to give it up for the rest of the session. (Sorry Kate).

Surfing the Delphin in a bit of wind!

Oh dear, think I want one

I think the cheesy smile says it all

Surf pics thanks to Kate Dufus

Duh! . . . might be useful

2011-10-16T15:44:00.000+01:00

Thought I'd pass this on as it might be of use - I know it's obvious - but it was so obvious I overlooked it.

Did a little rolling and self rescue practice last night - after a few dunkings I thought it prudent to let the coast guard know what we were up to in case someone phoned in thinking we needed some assistance.

"You are very muffled and broken up"

was the gist of the their return call, together with a misinterpretation of my call sign.

"Try turning into the wind sir" -

what wind. I couldn't figure out what the problem was.

Then it dawned on me. I don't carry my VHF in a pouch, it's "waterproof`" :), and of course during the immersions the speaker/mike grill gets flooded and doesn't necessarily drain quickly - there is a function on the radio to blast out the water by emitting a tone for a few seconds - remembering the key combination I used this and hey presto transmissions were restored strong and clear.

It made me think how important this might be to remember If I needed to make that call in dire need after being dunked or still being in the water.

How something quite simple hindered communication.

Morning Glory

2011-10-01T18:45:00.000+01:00

Thurlestone Sands has a very memorable feature - however I remembered the feature and forgot the name, so when I came to plan this trip I'd forgotten that I'd paddled part of this trip before with Richard back in 2009 as part of the SWSKM. (Note to self to get that written up!).

Thurlestone Sands with the tide out

Thurlestone Sands with the tide in.

This time we were going to make it an overnighter. Having traveled down to Exeter to visit the South West Canoe Show - it made good sense to get a nice paddle in - particularly as the weather was quite exceptional. I think it ended up being the hottest ever October on record.

By the time we would arrive from Exeter we wouldn't have much time to paddle on the water before wanting to set up camp and chill out. Luckily there is a nice little quiet sandy bay about an hours paddle to the west of Thurlestone at Soar Mill Cove.

We launch from the sandy beach and head west.

Rounding Bolt Tail we get the full on low sun bringing out the fantastic warm colours in Paul's kayak :)

It's not long before we arrive at the evenings diggs.

Looking down on Soar Mill Cove

Chris enjoys the last of the days sun

We set up camp and cook our grub, washed down with a bottle of beer or three, watching the sun going down.

Bliss.

View from my tent early in the morning - you can just make out a white dot on the horizon -
it's my old friend the Eddystone Lighthouse

Doesn't look like it but the tent is perched close to a fair sized vertical drop!

A quick breakfast and we are packing our gear for an early morning start.

It's not long before we are on the water and heading east to catch the first rays of morning sunshine.

Rounding Bolt Head we enter the mouth of the estuary that leads past Salcombe and up towards our destination at Kingsbidge. It's only going to be a 2 hr paddle, but get the timing wrong and miss the tide, you will be having a long wait on mud banks waiting to refloat!

Early morning sunshine catching the headland near Sharp Tor, Starehole Bay

We arrive at the top of the tide to land on the public slipway in Kingsbridge.

Conveniently located at the other end is a very reasonable cafe where we managed to have a big boys second breakfast.

Waiting for our big boys breakfast :)

Not a very arduous trip, but one that hit the spot precisely.

Bishops and Clerks - West Wales Day 3

2011-08-30T14:20:00.000+01:00

This has been a trip I'd like to do for a little while now, so was quite pleased that the weather and sea conditions looked conducive to being able to pull it off. The idea of this trip was to paddle around the small group of islands that lie between one and two miles offshore, west of Ramsey Island. Collectively they are called the Bishops and Clerks.

The principle is fairly straight forward - time the paddle to drop down with the tide to arrive at the South Bishop for slack water, and then come back up with the flood. Easy right?

As I stop to take a photo, Richard rapidly disappears as I'm swept away from him,
during our ferry glide across to North Bishop

Richard and I paddle out to Saint David's Head, arriving about two hours before the north going stream start. We manage a 4.5 km ferry glide against the south flowing water maintaining a fairly respectable 5 knots across to North Bishop.

Carreg Rhoson, with the South Bishop and it's lighthouse in the distance

As our transit starts to slip we engage a bit more umph and finally start to gain ground and make it across to the North Bishop.

Richard with North Bishop to right and Carreg Rhoson to left

Going down the west side we experience a bit of swell coming in from the Atlantic - it must get quite serious out here on a rough day. Looking at the chart you can see why as the water depth shallows quite rapidly causing large areas of overfalls.

Seals on North Bishop, with St Davids in the far distance

North Bishop

In the calm eddy behind North Bishop looking down through Carreg Rhoson and South Bishop in the distance

South Bishop and it's lighthouse gradually get bigger as we drop down onto it

Arriving at South Bishop

Tempted as we both were, the swell was a little bit to big to make for a safe dry landing

We have a good look around the rock, and then with the little bit of time we had of slack water make our way east towards Ramsey. Within about half a nautical mile off the rock the north going tide suddenly kicks in like a switch had been flicked and we go from just under 3 knots to maintaining a good 6.

Daufraich in the background as Richard goes to play in some waves just north of South Bishop

Fairly rapidly we are at the north end of Ramsey and repeat the eddy riding trick to get back to the mainland across the Sound, to arrive back at Porthsele, well satisfied. Could have done with a bit more sun though, but that's being picky.

13.2 Nm 24km in 3.75 hrs

Ramsey Circumnavigation - West Wales Day 2

2011-08-29T12:43:00.000+01:00

It's Bank Holiday Monday, and a wonderful hot sunny day is promised. While we wait for the tides to come into alignment with out intended circumnavigation of Ramsey Island, Claire, Ian and I head off to the Blue Lagoon at Abereiddu. Claire and Ian swim around to the abandoned quarry, while I take the easy option and paddle around.

Ian takes to the water in the Blue Lagoon

The lagoon isn't quite the sun trap we had hoped for, with still quite a breeze blowing in.
This young chap seems to have found a little sheltered spot though.

Bank Holiday's are made for for lazing in the sunshine!

Returning to Porthsele to launch, Richard takes us around Saint John's point towards Ramsey Sound. The north going flow causes a big back eddy that starts near St Justinin, which we utilize to take us down to the southern most tip of the mainland. It is quite strange to be paddling easily with the back eddy going south and seeing the main flow moving rapidly north just a few feet away from you. Water flow is seriously on a grand scale here as the water flowing in from the Atlantic is constricted through the Sound as it begins filling St Georges Channel between Wales and Ireland.

At Pen Dal-aderyn we begin a ferry glide across the sound, losing ground rapidly and watching The Bitches getting closer as if sucking us in for a good tossing over. We make it of course over to the east side of Ramsey without incident.

Looking back across Ramsey Sound to the mainland

Here we explore the caves and arches and get followed by numerous seals.

Approaching Ynys Cantwr and the Midland gap - this is our point of no return, as once entering the gap there there is no returning and we are committed to going up around the island's west coast.

Continuing up along the west coast we get to explore various caves, cracks and play with a little bit of the swell.

South Bishop lighthouse - though not today's destination . . .

South Bishop lighthouse appears below the clouds

Looking out westward toward Grassholm on the horizon

It really was quite a mellow evenings paddle. The tide now taking us fairly swiftly north.

Rounding the northern tip of the island we continue paddling now against the tide using the back eddy to take us some way into the sound. This gained ground we've "banked" in order to lose as we cross over the main flow, heading back to the mainland.

Thanks to Richard for the "Introduction to Ramsey Sound Back Eddies - easy conveyor belt seakayaking".

Circumnavigation of Ramsey Island

Chick'n Bitchin' - West Wales Day 1

2011-08-28T11:25:00.000+01:00

Long weekend paddling pass - rare has hens teeth and rocking horse dung - but I GOT ONE. The tides are on BIG springs so there should be fun to be had somewhere.

All the usual suspects seem tied up doing other stuff, but Richard is "Down West" and I hope to catch up with Claire for a paddle too.

As the weather is blowing quite a hoolie I'm in no mad rush to make it down to West Wales, so take it easy and arrive late Friday afternoon. Richard and I go for an evening surf just south of Whitesands and are treated with a fantastic sunset. Let's hope the wind dies down for some decent sea paddling.

Sunset over St Brides Bay towards St David's- after a good surf, does it get any better than this?

The next morning isn't so brilliant initially with respect to wind, but having taken a walk along the cliff top and looked down onto Ramsey Sound it's looking a bit sheltered from the wind, so we decide on a little jaunt to the Bitches. The sun however is out, lovely.

Leaving Porthsele beach we head out towards St David's head crossing Whitesands beach - which seems absolutely packed with holiday makers.

Cliff top walkers enjoying the Bank Holiday sunshine near Porthsele

Packed out Whitesands

From Saint David's Head we drop down with the tide to the little rocky Gwahan on our way to Bae Ogof Hen at the northern tip of Ramsey Island.

Approaching Bae Ogof Hen (Old Cave Bay) - North Ramsey Island

The tide in the sound has just started moving north so we use the back eddy on the eastern Ramsey shore to take us towards The Bitches.

Add caption

We pass through the cave that burrows through one of the outcrops approaching Aberfelin.

At The Bitches the wave is beginning to build and I watch as Richard has a great time playing .

Richard with a big smile on his face

This is only the beginning of the build up of the wave, and for some odd reason I just don't fancy jumping into it. I just sit back and watch for a while and chicken out before going to play on the waves that emerge from the cave that is under the cliff near the Ramsey jetty.

Ramsey Sound building up nicely

We cross into the main flow of the tide which will take us up north through the sound. Massive, I mean, massive, boils are here 50 feet wide at least and confused water (with dragons and sea beasts and everything living in the submerged caves below), I'm not concentrating and lack of experience crossing one of these massive (did I say that before) eddy lines I err capsize rather embarrassingly. Glad to say my roll was fine.

We speed along at some ridiculous 10 knots passing Horse Rock before sweeping up to Carreg Gafeiliog to play on some of the rather big waves that are forming there.

We return to Pothsele glad to have been able to get out on the water.

Thanks to Richard for my induction to the Bitches. Hope to get back sometime to play on it properly :)

South West Sea Kayaking Meet 2011 - Day 2

2011-07-10T19:59:00.000+01:00

You have to laugh really.

Partaking, whole heartedly, in the socialising facilities at the Greyhound ale house amongst like minded paddling folk, Richard and I have the intention fixed in your mind of doing a very sedate paddle the next morning, probably after second breakfast.

We wake up in the morning to the reality of being asked to paddle most of the Purbeck coastline.

How could we refuse?, it's after all what we came down here for. We all assemble for the morning briefing, ours is a trip from Swanage Bay heading west along the coast to Durdle Door to return and end up at Kimmeridge Bay.

After the briefing no one seems keen to sign up (not sure why), but at the last minute Huw, from Pembrokeshire steps up. Our very own Welsh armada rapidly assembles gear and heads off to Swanage tout de suite to take on the South West.

Swanage Bay

One slip and there's venison for tea

Approaching Durlston Head we catch a glimpse of deer grazing on the very steep slopes of Durlston Country Park. As we head around the coastline takes on a more rugged character.

Huw passes by the diving fisher birds - shags at a punt

I can never remember the difference between a shag and a cormorant (queue crude joke), but there were plenty of them about. Along the coast between Durlson Head and Anvil Point we were treated to puffins and roosting guillemots.

Small floatiila of Puffins

Huw is dwarfed by the cliffs

Anvil Point lighthouse

Grand scape - sure feel quite small

The cliffs take on a remarkable brick like patterning. Rock was quarried extensively around these parts in the 18th and 19th centuries and as far back as Roman times.

Weird troglodyte homes appear to be left behind from some distant history.

Approaching Kimmeridge Ledges we hear over the VHF that the Little Spirit - 37 foot yacht - had run aground. Some lat and long co-ordinates were spouted off. I didn't take much notice of it . Then Kimmeridge Ledges was mentioned and my ears pricked up and we all started to look around. We could see a yacht a few 100 yards away with people waving their arms at a fairly large speed boat that was making it's way towards them. We responded to the coast guard that we may be able to help and made our way over.

As we approached the yacht could be heard bouncing up and down on a rock ledge and a line had been thrown from the yacht to the motor cruiser, and missed. A swimmer had been dropped in to pick up the line for it to be passed to the cruiser. The towline failed and as the cruiser went to collect the swimmer I retrieved the tow line and prepared to pass it back to cruiser while the yacht crew joined the other end to a longer line attached to the top of their mast.

By this time the coastguard helicopter had started to hover over us and was standing by.

Coastguard keeping a watchful eye on proceedings

The cruiser then pulled the yacht over almost to 45 degrees, quite impressive, while the helm motored the yacht off the rocks with much noise.
That sorted out the problem and the drama was over. The boat hadn't suffered any damage and all 6 crew were fine - we packed our supermen T-shirts back in the hatches and went back to the paddling.

We headed into Kimmerage Bay for a quick lunch stop. Kimmerage has an oil field below it, and in the bay there is a "nodding donkey" oil pump similar to those that you might associate with in Texas. It's been pumping oil continually since 1961, and as such is the oldest working pump in the UK. Oil production has now dropped from 350 to only 65 barrels a day.

By now the wind had picked up quite a bit and we are in for an exciting and hard paddle as the sea gets quite confused by Warbarrow and towards Lulworth.

Durdle Door

Finaly we make it to Durdle Door and hang around for a few pictures before turning tail back to Kimmeridge.

Spectacular Glad Cliff near Worbarrow

We head out away from the cliff bases to pick up some of the fair tide and get a different perspective of the magnificent cliffs. We arrive again at Kimmeridge to end a very satisfactory days paddling.

This is a trip to make you feel small and insignificant.

Quenching our thirst overlooking Corfe Castle before the retreat home to Wales

We return to have some grub and drinks overlooking Corfe Castle, and raise a glass to sadly the last SWSKM.

Richard does the trip far more justice with his photos of the trip and some of the yacht being hauled over.

Our "relaxed morning" trip. Well worth the effort!

South West Sea Kayaking Meet 2011 - Day 1

2011-07-09T22:56:00.004+01:00

The informal South West Sea Kayaking Meet (SWSKM) that spawned from the original launch of Mark Rainsley’s South West Sea Kayaking Guide Book back in 2008 has become a very good annual excuse to come and meet like minded paddlers and explore some of the great coastline that the south west coastline has to offer.

It has been held, up 'till now, over in Dorset, at it’s southern most tip at Prawle Point. Evening entertainment in the form of talks by kayakers has been hosted in The Pigs Nose fueled allegedly by jars of ale. It's always been a great weekend.

This year it’s been centered at Corfe Castle on the Isle of Purbeck. A bit misleading to call it an island, as it is surrounded by water only on three sides. You get the impression though, when you get down here, that it may as well be completely cut off as it is so wonderfully unspoilt. A real hidden gem.

Mark’s book has been hugely successful (now in it’s second edition) and no doubt has inspired many a trip to the sticky out bit of the southern west of the British Isles. Flicking through the latest version I realise that bit by bit over the last few years I seem to have covered quite a portion of it by now. The Purbeck coastline has some of the finest, dramatic, day paddling coastline with the opportunity to put in a few wild camps, making it a fine long weekend destination for the discerning paddler

Richard and I arrive on a Friday evening and set up camp early with the intention of finding a flat cow pat free area before going out for an early evening paddle.

Looking out from the Purbeck Hills down on to Saint Alben's Head overfalls

With the winds blowing fairly high the paddling option open to us is probably the same paddle on the agenda for tomorrow with the promise of less wind, so we unanimously decided to visit the Greyhound Public House situated by the historic walls of Corfe Castle, to test it’s suitability as a venue for our weekend’s patronage. Hard decision I know.

After a few swift pints of Doom Bar on tap, we decided it would only be fair to venture into another hostelry for comparison. The Fox – a nice cwtchy kind of place, similar to front-room shebeens found in Wales that sprung up after the Sunday Closing (Wales) Act 1881 was passed, that banned the sale of alcohol in Welsh pubs on the Sabbath. These shebeens were literally someone’s front room where one could purchase a tankard of illicit ale.

My good friend Addlestones Cider was here, but I have to admit, it seems to taste much better closer to its origin on the north coast. My conclusion is, that like real Guinness, it doesn’t travel well.

We returned to the Greyhound to chase more Doom Bar.

Setting the scene

Saturday morning dawned and, under the shadow of the 1000 year old castle, we awake to a field of congregated kayakers.

Good Morning Campers - get up it's briefing time

After a short briefing we head on down to Studland Bay with the intention of paddling out towards Handfast Point to see Old Harry, and The Pinnacles.

On the beach at Studland looking accross to Handfast Point


Approaching Old Harry

Old Harry and his wife

With the tide low, we paddle right out and around the point, and come face to face with the magnificent view of The Pinnacles. Made even more striking with the sun shining down on them.

Stunning bit of coastline!

Sticking our noses around Ballard Point, the wind is a bit stiff, we turn tail and head back to Studland, stopping for lunch on one of the white chalk stoned beaches.

A few of the group call it a day and stop off for ice cream, tea and a lounge in the sunshine, while the rest of us head out towards a windy Poole harbor.

The chain ferry that is pulled across the harbor mouth using 2 sets of chains

Turning tail here, we go full steam back to Studland.

The evening is topped off with a BBQ on the beach followed by a retreat to the Greyhound for "cold squash and ginger beer", not!

Richard took some cracking picks of the trip, you can see them on his blog.

The days trip, short but very sweet

Six Cardinals of the Severn

2011-07-03T00:30:00.000+01:00

Setting out from St Donats

Combination of a spring tide, the prospect of another gift day for sea paddling, and a wonderful understanding wife, were the ingredients to go play on the Severn Estuary.

The proposition was to just ride the Severn tide down for most of the day and back again, just to see what happened. Richard was interested. So we left St Donats with approx. 3 hours left of the ebb.

To add a little interest and to break up the monotony a bit we came up with the idea of following a line of cardinal buoys that seemed to have been placed in a perfect position just for the job, that also led us to a fairly large sand bank (nice place to stop for a bite to eat we thought).

Heading past East Nash along the Glamorgan Heritage Coast

East Nash Cardinal taking the strain at Nash Sound

Sticking our noses out towards Nash Point we are making a good 5 knots towards the Sound without dipping a paddle in. We clock up about 8 knots as we paddle past the East Nash Cardinal.

Next up is the Mid Nash South Cardinal.

Richard a few miles offshore at the Mid Nash South Cardinal

Mid Nash South Cardinal

This trip now becomes a case of joining the dots, as we head on a bearing from buoy to buoy. Each one is approx. 4 nautical miles away from the other so to begin with we can't see them. We head on a bearing to where we think they are. It becomes a bit of a game to see who can spot the next match stick on the horizon first. At about 3 nautical miles away one of us normally spots them. Then we have something to aim at rather than paddle on a wish. At about 3/4 mile the head markings normally become clearly visible - this is with the sun behind us on a perfectly clear day.

Richard spots a single gannet up in the sky, and then below it a porpoise.

We sit and watch as it trawls for fish.

Magic to watch.

Porpoise trawling the Bristol Channel

Before very long we arrive at West Nash cardinal.

West Nash Cardinal

Next hop is over to the South Cardinal at South Scar.

South Scar Cardinal at Scarweather Sands

This is where we had planned to stop for our lunch. There is no sand bar to be seen. We have made good time and the tide has not turned yet. We see plenty of waves breaking over the sand bank and decide to take a closer look.

Seeing some interesting rough water we decide to head over to the waves breaking over the sand bank

The mast/tower thing is or was a monitoring site for an offshore wind farm which has now been shelved.
Some very tasty waves are seen and we have a little play in the rough water.

Surf spot some 5 nautical miles offshore - no boardies out here to drop in on

I can only imagine that this spot must be the gateway to some neptunous hell on a rough day! Some 100m further on and all is back to an oily flat calm sea . . .

Given the good time we have made and we still have an ebbing flow, we decide to continue on towards the West Weather Cardinal.

West Scarweather

We stop here for a lunch break. Slack is approaching. While munching away I notice on the chart that there is one more cardinal, the Ledge South Cardinal, a few nautical miles away. A pity really to have come this far and not bag that one as well. So we decide to give it a go. We put our backs into it and manage to reach it despite the tide having turned.

The Ledge South Cardinal - time to go home

We both look at the chart and think it's a job well done. Only need to paddle all the way home now.

With all the sights taken in, we don't bother to stop on the way back. Just make a B-line for Nash Point.

Passing Nash Point lighthouse before the final slog around to St Donats

For what could be regarded by most as a pointless boring paddle, this has been quite an amazing days paddle.

37 nautical miles (69 km) covered in just over 7.5 hours - channel riding at its best!

69 km round trip

The Butthole Surfers and Southern Comfort - Twll Dîn ar Ynys Echni

2011-07-02T14:03:00.024+01:00

With the official opening of a public house on Flat Holm last week by the mayor of Cardiff, it seemed my duty to go check out the most southerly waterhole in Wales. The weather was looking good to go and after a ring around the usual suspects, Richard and I launch from Sully to head out to Flat Holm.

Sully Slipway - slap some of that cream on it's going to be hot!

After launching we quickly decided that it would be a shame not to utilise more of what great weather we had on offer today after such a terrible run of bad weather. With the forecast for increase in wind before easing off latter, we opted for a slight diversion around Steep Holm first to get a thirst up for the anticipated quenching pint. We changed our bearing and paddled out across the channel

Passing Flat Holm

Brean Down I think in the distance

Steep Holm on the horizon

After what seemed a quick hour and a quarter we arrive at Steep Holm.

Approach to Steep Holm

The gulls are in residence, but neither of us take any direct hits from the stuka dropped guano as they let us know their concern of their newly hatched chicks.

Screaming, sihtting, gulls

Rudder Rock at Steep Holm

We circumnavigate the island with a little explore around the small arch at the Rudder Rock before crossing over to Flat Holm.

Flat Holm lighthouse and the pub housed in the barracks to the left

A 40 minute jaunt we arrive at the southern tip of Flat Holm after crossing through the lively standing waves thing that goes on there, even managed a tiny bit of surfing.

Flat Holm lighthouse and WWII search light emplacement

An enlargement of the above clearly reveals a buried Victorian cannon
at the foot of the lighthouse, stripped naked of its mounting block

We land on the small pebbled beach south of the main landing area and walk up the track making a b-line for the barracks and the pub within.

Taking in the sights as we go.

Looking back to the Welsh capitol, Cardiff

Alleged Welsh comforters

Flat Holm lighthouse

Steep Holm from Flat Holm

Flat Holm Sanatorium - uniquely the only Victorian Isolation Hospital located on a British offshore island.
The last patient to die here, did so of bubonic plague in the C19.
Closed 1935.

We finally arrive at our goal, The Gull and Leek

Nice poster stuck on the wall behind the bar
where Sam dispenses the necessary refreshments

Richard supping on his reward

It didn't stay long in the glass

The tide has now turned, it's time to make our way back to the mainland. As we wander back to the beach we bump into Stuart, Jules and Taran who have come out to play in the sun.

Getting busy out here!

With the beginning of the ebb we leave the island to arrive back at Sully some 30 minutes later. There was no increase in wind as forecast to day, the sea state became glassy smooth and we cruised in to the Sailing Club at Sully passing al the sail boats limping along with lifeless sheets.

As I carry my boat up the slipway and look back to Flat Holm savouring that earned pint, the Ballad of Naked Man by the Butthole Surfers began playing in my ears again.

Crossing back to Sully

13Nm of island hopping fun

26/6/11

Zeus, Eurus and Devonian cliffscapes

2011-06-03T09:57:00.003+01:00

The wrath of Eurus was strengthening and due to continue to increase over the next few days so we decided to abort the crossing to Lundy. A shame, having come this far, but the island was't going anywhere soon and it gave me a great opportunity to discover some of the mainland North Devon coastline that I might have otherwise have overlooked. What a treat was in store.

We relocated to a campsite at Hartland which was conveniently located near Hartland Quay.

Launching from Hartland Quay

Not a real quay anymore, the original 16th centuary one was washed away in 1887, but still an easy access point to get out on the water for an evening paddle to Hartland Point.

It is a great bit of coast line to have fun rock hopping amongst the pronounced reefs. Reaching the race under Hartland Point lighthouse we rounded the point to take a look at the giant teed up golf ball that is the radar station behind the lighthouse.

Hartland Point lighthouse with the wreck of the coaster Johanna, wrecked in 1982

The radar station just around the point

Looking down on Hartland Point race and that elusive Lundy on the horizon

A few pints were sunk as well - conveniently located for the après paddle

There was to be no more sea kayaking of any substance for the remainder of the days in Devon, apart from an hour or so surfing just before the heavens exploded with a dramatic lightening storm which continued late into the night. Was glad to be off the water at that point as I wasn't very keen on being part of any "is it a good idea to paddle in a lightening storm with a carbon fibre paddle" experiments.

The following few days were used to explore the amazing rock formations found along the coast.

If you get a chance to have a paddle around these parts, I'd advise you to grab it.

Well I probably was smelling a bit by now, and needed to wash off the salt

I love these rules. Just try and imagine a night out in Hartland in the 1700s . . .

Lundy - another time

29/4/11

Headdon's Mouth to Lee Bay (Exmoor day 2)

2011-04-28T17:44:00.255+01:00

Morning dawns at some point that I'm unaware of and as high tide is at 1600 hrs there is no rush to get up.

The day really warms up as the sun reaches over the steep valley top and I extract myself from my bivy bag to a bright sunny morning.

It's going to be a fantastic day.

Heddon's Mouth

One or two people have already made the trip down to this very pretty valley, either along the cliff tops as part of the South West Coast Path or following the deep valley walk along the river towards the sea.

In its past it has been visited by more than just walkers and day trippers. During World War II, German U-boats would re-stock with water and stretch legs along this section of remote coastline. For more information read what Martin Hesp has to say about secret Nazi U-Boat landings for water and a game of football along these deep watered shores.

After a lazy lunch and having packed the boat at the high tide level - it only remained to lie in the sun waiting for the tide - this sea kayaking lark has it's moments.

Once on the water, heading west, I pick up on the beginning of the ebb tide. What's in store is an overpowering sense of how small I am as I look up at these towering cliffs. The tallest is over 1000 feet - and are the highest mainland cliffs in Britain.

I get sucked early on into exploring the base of the cliffs. Progress is slow due to the curiosity and the urge to go look-see.

Time to crack on if I'm to get to Lee Bay and get set up before dark. Reluctantly I put my effort into making some headway - so I by pass the very interesting looking Combe Martin Bay with it's secluded sandy coves and Watermouth Castle. Heading off shore a wee bit to pick up on the increasing tidal stream I make towards Illfracombe.

On the approach I see MS Oldenburg heading into port. I decide to follow and make phone contact with my mates to find out the latest on the arrangements to Lundy.

MS Oldenburg - passenger ferry for Lundy - with heated saloons a bar and buffet - I'll be getting there by kayak, fuelled by chocolate, bananas and Jelly Babies

After shore side comms. are over and resisting the huge temptation of hot fish and chips, I'm back on the water and picking up steam at a comfortable 6 knots towards Lee Bay. In my enthusiasm and unfamiliarity of the coast I almost overshoot my destination, convinced it was around the next headland.
Safe arrival, I gett all my stuff off the boat and settle down to cook tea while watching the sun go down.

After food I make my way up the Lee valley to visit The Grampus Inn to sample the delights of it's various guest ales and socialise with a few local maritime characters 'till the wee hours. Since the 4am launch has been postponed there is no desperate rush to get back . . .

Lee Bay the following morning

The days coastline (11.2Nm/20km) - well worth a closer more leisurely paddle - will return soon!

Getting further from home

gNashing at the Heddon Mouth (Exmoor Day 1)

2011-04-27T14:54:00.035+01:00

The big plan was to head out to Lundy Island to escape THE wedding - I couldn't imagine a better place to indulge in a few well earned beers after a few days paddling, lie in the sun and do nothing.

Zero Carbon impact or just the impulsion to give it some stick I decided it would be a satisfying challenge to paddle there from the South Wales coast.

A three stage plan was hatched. Paddle a fairly long crossing to Headdon Mouth from Nash Point, then next day bumble along a few miles of the highest sea cliffs (250m) of mainland Britain to Lee Bay west of Illfracombe, meet up with some friends and paddle on to Lundy Island to sample the delights within the Marisco Tavern.

Loaded up at Nash Point waiting for the top of the flood

Looking back at Cwm Marcroes

Launching from Nash under beautiful sunny sky there is just a little breeze. I paddle straight out on my bearing which I hope will get me to the right point the other side!

It's not long before the clouds come. The day turns overcast and fairly cool which makes for a good paddling temperature. A fairly brisk easterly cross wind picks up which is a bit of a pain. Even with the skeg fully deployed and my boat packed to be stern heavy it weather cocks annoyingly. Occasionally I need to paddle with biased blades - left shaft longer than the right - to try and maintain a constant paddling rhythm. I wished that the boat would track better in a cross wind. Just had to plough on.

Meeting other seafarers - best keep out of their way!

As requested I call in my position every hour to the CG and watch the tidal drift track on the GPS as I wait to be picked up on channel 67. Bang on neap tides, as expected, there is still quite a flow building up, thankfully, as my aimed off bearing is based on some of it.

Another big one - not that many out here today

After a few hours I've passed the middle and can see the English side getting closer - slowly!

England looms closer, Exmore - but it's still a bit dull and overcast

It doesn't actually feel that long a time before I finally arrive at Headdon Mouth and the sun decides to eventually pop out to provide a glorious evening on the beach to cook tea on.

Headdon Mouth - with the tide still going out

Actually the maths seemed to work - sort of

3 hrs 45 mins to paddle the 33km (averaging 4.6 knots) - seems I paddled over quicker than it would have taken to drive! I'm fairly chuffed. Time for some grub and watch the sun go down before heading off to the Hunters Hotel. Did I forget to mention there was a convenient-ish public house up the wooded valley? Oh yes!

Looking out of Headdon Mouth along the coast that will be tomorrows trip

At the end of a satisfying day!

Very eerie Blaire Witch walking through the wooded gorge up to the Hunters Lodge for a few well earned pints - I'm rewarded by the sight of an old friend - Addlestones Cider. The brewery were kind enough to sponsor me and some friends with a few casks of the nectar on my first channel crossing. Time to pay them back!

After an enjoyable evening talking amongst friendly strangers, I make my way back to the beach by some totally different route, never the less the lack of light pollution sets the stage for a truly spectacular show of stars in the cloudless night sky. I have my very own planetarium.

After staring up at the sky from my bivy bag for a while, I'm fast asleep.

Flat Holm, Steep Holm and the Wolves

2011-04-17T00:27:00.001+01:00

With continuing high pressure and fantastic weather, today had the feeling of being a scorcher. First paddle this year in a short top me thinks!

With a fairly big spring tide and mirror like conditions Hywel and I decided we'd head out to Steepholm in the middle of the Bristol Channel.

Leaving Penarth we could just about see Flatholm through the fog. I had some unreasoned desire to go around the north of the island . . .

After a fairly steep ferry glide out towards the landing jetty on Flatholm, I finally gave in within yards. The flailing blurred paddling in almost tropic conditions was just a little bit too much like hard work. We decided to go down around the south of the island and immediately accelerated to some 5 knots without lifting a blade.

Scooting around to the lighthouse we start our second glide across to Steepholm. It doesn't take us long.

Within a short time, Flatholm seems miles away, and the mainland has totally disapeared

Arrival at Steepholm

The spit on Steepholm with Brean Down off in the fog

A very low tide

An alternative landing spot with convenient steps

High tide mark?

As we paddle around the island and hit slack low tide, Hywel mentions that his GPS is indicating an altitude of minus 8m.

Rudder Rock at low water

Steepholm

Hywel on Steepholm having lunch with Flatholm in the distance and nothing else


No horizon

Leaving Steepholm just as the tide begins to flood, it is noticeably eerie out here. No sound, no movement. Passing Flatholm I notice some disturbed water and something sticking out of the water. So with some more frantic paddling I try to gain ground and get closer to investigate before it is lost to the flood.

Approaching the Wolves

Wolf Rock as the flood starts increase

It is the Wolves, exposed, just. These rocks have claimed a few lives in their time.

Hywel sitting on some turbulent water before the rocks, above where we thing the masts of the wreck might appear on an even lower tide.

Hywel at the Wolves with Steepholm in the distance

The chart indicates that there are exposed masts at the chart datum.
With the high pressure and millpond conditions, we might have seen them had we arrived a little earlier. It could be the masts of the sloop William and Mary which struck the Wolves on 28th October 1817

Her topmast remained some feet above the water, to which the crew adhered until the boat returned. Our informant saved himself by swimming, and was two hours and a half in the water, when he was taken into the boat. He witnessed the heartrending scene which took place on the sinking of the vessel. A Mr Barron, his mother, and four sisters (who had their man-servant and carriage on board) were among the passengers; the cries of the young ladies were most distressing. They all perished! They went down in each other's arms.

54 passengers were lost, including 22 women and children. Only one person survived.
50 bodies were recovered and buried on Flat Holm.

14.7 Nm

Dusk Till Dawn

2011-04-09T13:09:00.004+01:00

I wasn't expecting quite the vampire-ic experience of Seth and his brother Richard at the "Titty Twister" in Mexico. The only similarity in fact was that there was a Richard amongst us, it was dark and the planned duration was akin to the movie title.

I've had it in my mind for a few years to do a there and back trip across the Bristol Channel with a twist (no titties) - crossing one way during the day to Porlock Weir and return at night under the stars. The plan had originally involved a visit to the pub followed by sleep.

Flat calm - looking out across the Bristol Channel

Conditions were right, a combination of: high pressure; forecast of little wind; it being a weekend and me just feeling "up for it". A slight variation to the plan was hatched and executed at short notice - there was to be no pub and very little sleep. Fair play to both Richard and Paul for coming out to play, Paul was given only a few hours notice. But what better way to end a paddle than to paddle in at the break of a new day!

The bay at St Donats - the sun has just slipped over the horizon

After a last check of the weather Paul, Richard and myself gathered our stuff together on the slipway at St Donats and we slipped off at 2115.

Open crossings can be very photographically boring as they tend to be, well, boring, just mainly sea and this paddle was going to be in the dark, further reducing the photo opportunity. With the twilight past, and with the tides being neaps there wasn't much of a moon. What light there was from it was being masked initially by a little bit of cloud but one by one the stars could be made out through the patches of clear sky.

A rather warm paddling at first - I was glad to have taken one under layer off before starting. It had been difficult to judge how much to wear under my dry-suit, knowing that I wouldn't easily be able to reduce the thermal layers out on the water if I got too hot, but as the cloud lifted and we were gifted with a jewel filled sky, the temperature dropped noticeably a few notches and I was now at a comfy temperature.

It was like a mill pond out there. Heading southish towards the north Somerset coast there was very little light pollution compared to the industrial light show of Cardiff and Newport, so we were treated with spectacular views of the constellations and moonlight reflecting of the few ripples. It was serene.

Landing at Porlock Weir (picture by Richard)

Three hours of paddling, at a non stop pace, we arrived at Porlock Weir.

View from Porlock Weir: The light pollution looking back to the Welsh coast is exaggerated by the long exposure.
You can just make out some of the stars, in what to the naked eye was a dark black sky.

After messing about taking photos in the dark - we jump in our bivy bags and get a few hours kip.

3am we were up packing and dragging our boats down to the much lower water line. It's noticeably darker as now as the moon has also set. 0350 we are away again. Once clear of the headland we get exposed to a little bit of a SE breeze. The return journey is not as smooth, every now and again we hear the sound of breaking water. The sea state has picked up slightly, but we keep our whits about us and plod on. Every so often we see dark objects rise to the sky from the sea, no vampires, just disturbed resting birds on the water taking flight.

Ever so gradually at first a barely perceptible lighter tint appears on the horizon as the night sky gives way to the crack of dawn. After about an hour or so there is no mistaking that a new day has dawned.

Crack of dawn as the sky goes from light pink through to orange

Still a few miles to go

We paddle in silence, buried in our own thoughts, putting one blade in after the other. It's bizarre that those last few miles seem to take forever as land fall suddenly stops getting closer and you wonder if you are actually making any progress at all.

0720 after 3.5 hrs we finally land. Just in time for breakfast!

Richard lands after a paddle across the channel with the second largest tidal range in the world, twice.

44km 6.5hrs, no vampires

Isle of the Needles

2011-03-20T17:26:00.002Z

I knew very little about the Isle of Wight (IOW) other than my dad ran a marathon around it when I was small and he came back with a little medallion with an enamel map of the island on it. The shape of that map, for some reason has stayed with me for all those years.
A vague recollection of different coloured sands in glass jars and hovercraft are tagged IOW in those grey cells of mine. Another voyage of discovery was about to begin.

Wight is the bastardisation over time of the Old English word wiht – meaning a thing or sentient being. I had assumed it was something to do with the striking white chalk cliffs. The island is England's largest and provided us with a challenge as Liz, Mark, Graham and I were going to paddle around it.

This weekend is the vernal equinox, the beginning of spring and a rather special one as it is also a lunar perigee, that's to say that the full moon will be the closest it’s been to the earth for nearly 20 years. We’ll be riding the first spring spring tide. Boing, boing, so paddling would be a slight mis-description, more of a paddle and tidal conveyor belt ride – well that’s the plan.

All has a sense of magic about it

Launching from near the the small fishing port of Keyhaven we head out into the Hurst Spit protected salt marshes on mirror flat water. It's just gone 2115hrs and the full moon is giving us plenty of light. Still air, smooth waters. All is calm.

Rounding the shingle spit we enter the Solent proper as we pass Hurst Castle lighthouse located next to Hurst Castle . The castle was built by Henry VIII to defend the western approach to the Solent and was upgraded during the Napolionic war to take 38 ton guns. WWII saw it become a coastal battery with the addition of searchlights-not that we need any of those tonight as the moon is doing a spectacular job.

By the light of the moon . . . we nearly get trashed by a cargo tanker

With the coastal defenses behind us we cross over the Solent towards The Needles without much incident save a realistic night time running lights refresher as we put on a healthy burst of speed to get out of the way of a rather large container ship. It was good to know that he actually saw us given that he let loose a few blasts on his ships hooter.

We approach the Needles and pass through the small race between the stacks. Up until now we have been on the north side of the Isle of Wight and as such the cliffs have all been in the shadow of the moon. All has been dark and mysterious with cracking views of the stars on this clear night. As we turn the corner this all dramatically changes as the rays of the moon suddenly create an explosion of light as they find white chalk cliffs to reflect from. The contrast is quite overwhelming. Paddling in awe struck silence we suck it all up. The only sound above the gentle waves lapping the feet of these sheer cliffs is the bird life flying above, woken I assume by our strange passage. They appear and disappear in flashes of moonlight caught on their white plumage like shooting stars as they fly up beyond the cliff top and disappear into the night sky.

Night paddling at its best.

We were lucky to have a perfectly cloudless night, goes some way to convey the mood
Postcard from a great collection of old Isle of Wight postcards

The temperature has been dropping by the time we arrive at midnight at the beach of Freshwater Bay and there is frost in the air. Landing on steep shingle we haul our kit up to the cliff tops, eat some grub and curl up in our tents to sleep on top of already frozen ground. Winter is holding on to the very last.

Just before sunrise on the last day of winter

Overnight temperatures were due to drop to about -3˚C, it was not to much of a shock to wake up with frozen tents in the morning, but it didn't take long for the sun to rise and give us the promise of a fair day ahead.

The first rays of light reflect from the chalk cliffs looking towards the Needles

We decide to have a wander about in wait for our 1400hrs afternoon launch. There was plenty to go have a look at. There is an interesting thatched church, St Agnes, in Freshwater.

Church of St Agnes, Freshwater Bay

A brisk walk out onto the cliff tops we head out to the Needles proper and take in the iconic view of the light house and stacks that we paddled through last night.

The Needles

Arriving at the headland you find the remains of the Needles Battery. Built at the end of the 19th century to defend us from the threat of froggy invaders. The biggest surprise for me was to find that this was also the location of the British aerospace secret rocket testing site back in the 50s-70s. At a time when Britain was ahead of American and Soviet rocket propulsion systems, they were secretly testing right here.

Space race at the High Down Rocket Test Site, IOW

The naturally curved shaped bay, facing south out into the sea meant that nobody on the mainland or on the IOW could hear the propulsion system being test fired. All the sound was reflected out to sea, which the Royal Navy had cleared of all shipping prior to ignition.

Kitting up ready for the off from Freshwater Bay

Before we know it it's time to get back on the water as the tide is calling. A bit of a headwind slows us down together with initial adverse flow made getting to St Catherine's Point a bit of a slog.

Liz pondering the answers to brain teasers posed to keep us sane

After 3 and a half hours we finally pick up speed and shoot through the big overfalls at the islands most southerly point.

St. Catherine's Point lighthouse

We sit and watch the sun go down on our approach to Ventnor Bay, and in awe as the moon begins to rise above the horizon ready to illuminate our second night time section.

Tonights Super Moon was the last of the winter sunlight
as tomorrow is the beginning of Spring

1830hrs has us landing at sandy Ventnor Bay for the addition of a layer ready for the late evening section. We top up with some jammy doughnuts in lieu of fish and chips.

Moon Rise

After a further 3 hours of paddling under a slightly cloudier moonlit night we arrive at Bembridge for a nice gentle surf to our evenings camping ground.

Shangri la on the English riviera - Mark enjoys a morning cuppa before the off

Next morning we are on the water early in the day for a change and head up north into the Solant passing the all-weather RNLI station at Bembridge which houses a Tamar Class lifeboat.

The new lifeboat house at the eastern entrance to the Solent

We aim up and out towards No Mans Land Fort which was recently up for sale complete with revolving bed. The video is worth a watch. It is one of the Palmerston Forts built between 1867 and 1880 by the then British Prime Minister to protect Britain from French invasion. I've seen many examples now of his follies as they are sometimes called. Some are closer to home on Flatholm but he seems to have really gone to town around the Portsmouth/Solent area with his forts.

No Mans Land Fort

Turning west at this point, I encounter one of the largest boils I have ever seen, just after the two eddy lines joined behind the fort - it must have been a good 3-4 boat lengths across.

"OK! I admit it. My position is unknown at this time."

We catch the flow and now enjoy a pleasurable afternoon paddling down the centre of the Solent with another headwind to contend with. We stop briefly in at Cowes for a lunch stop before continuing back toward the salt marshes from whence we started Friday evening, catching the last of the first spring sunlight before it sets. 45km in total today, 41km yesterday and 16km Friday night.

Graham passing behind the gravel spit with Hurst Castle lighthouse in the background

Rear of Hurst Castle, entering the salt marshes

My own medallion

101km circumnavigation, great company, fantastic adventure, wonderful memories - not a bad weekend all considered.

I only touched the surface (or rather skirted the circumference) of what this island has to unveil. There are many other interesting things to find out about it. I think, to coin the phrase of the sentient or wight of a mechanical nature, no doubt I’ll be back.

Positively Barmy 1.1.11

2011-01-01T21:21:00.013Z

After the Christmas Eve afternoon paddle the temperatures today were positively balmy. With the smallest of swells running a few of us managed to get out for our traditional New Years Day paddle - this year for a surf rather than a paddle out to Tusker Rock.

After a couple of hours we felt as if we'd burned off enough calories to justify a pint to welcome the beginning of a New Year

Here's wishing everyone a Happy New Year full of paddling fun and adventure!

Thanks to Chris E. for the photos - who was feeling a bit rundown after the New Year's Celebrations - and regretted not getting his kit on.

Hywel

Nige

Chris "I stopped drinking at 7 this morning and still went for a surf" Constantine

The Surfing Hamster - moi

All the best for 2011!

Cold as Ice

2010-12-24T11:43:00.003Z

What possesses someone to get out of bed on a freezing cold morning – no I really mean FREEZING (well for us in the UK anyway) – and go sea kayaking? It’s the day before Christmas. I’m not in work, it’s warm in my bed and it’s -4 degrees C by the backdoor (I know it’s not cold by any arctic standard).

Britain, still gripped in the snow and ice, has ground it to a halt, The temperature has locally been down as low as –16, but today the sun is shining, the forecast is looking good and it promises to be a great day for paddling.

I read about Stuarts earlier trip along the coast and saw his photographs of the icicles hanging on the cliff faces – something that we rarely get to see here. So decided to go and find some of these myself.

Arriving at Llantwit Major beach (Col-huw) the place is like an ice rink. Treading carefully I get down to the beach from the car park trying hard not to slip and break any bones, I’m on the water at 11am (3.5 Hrs before LT). It’s all very wrong – we shouldn’t have ice or snow at the seaside!

Traveling west I have the sun behind and it is all very pleasant. It doesn’t take long before icicles appear in abundance.

Not long before I’m entering Nash Sound and pass through at an effortless 7.5 knots.

Nash Point Lighthouse

I’m treated with sights of the snowline creeping down to meet the shoreline. With the sun being so low at this time of year there are quite a few places where it’s rays either don’t reach or are there for such a short time they haven’t been able to melt the snow. Much to my childish delight.

Arriving at Southerndown (Dunraven Bay), my scheduled turn about point, I come across this little feller

Christmas Roast?

– or feller-ess to be more precise as after a bit of asking about it turns out to be a female Cape Shelduck.

With my early arrival and still about 2 hours of ebb in my favour I let the coastguard know I was going on to paddle further to Tusker Rock before heading back.

Within 30 minutes I’m sitting on the rock having my hot soup and sarnies and taking in the fantastic picture poastcard views of this tremendous heritage coastline.

Wreck remains on Tusker Rock

Ogmore by Sea from Tusker Rock

Dunraven Bay from Tusker Rock

The tide hasn’t quite turned when I leave within 40 mins of low water but I can make steady ground. Today daylight dictates the travel plans over ease of paddling. Heading on out into the Bristol Channel my plan is to go out over the Nash Sand Bar and pick up on the main tidal flow as it turns and the flood kicks in.

The sand bar is some 14 miles long, but only parts of it broach the surface at the lower points of the tide. It produces some wild conditions when the wind and tide dictate.

Even with the fairly benign conditions I face today you can tell when you pass over the shallow water. The water surface gradually moves through glass like to ripples to small breaking waves. Today it is manageable. The water around here does weird stuff, flows in odd and for me at least, unpredictable ways.

I give it the respect I think it deserves. Creepily it gives me the feeling of a small welcoming smile growing to a chuckle and onto hysterical manic laughter. I don’t trust it. I’ve been here before when it seems to entice you into it’s playful arms.

Out into the channel the tide is taking me nicely with the accelerating flood. Closing into Nash Point I’m surprised to sea some of the sea birds ‘walking on water”. From my low seating angle I can’t see the last remains of the sand bank protruding through the water for them to stand on. I decide, as I’m passing, to land and take some photographs of the cliffs lit by the beautiful late afternoon sun.

My luck just as I land the sun nips behind a cloud and the golden light drops off the cliff.

Looking west along the sand bar heading towards the Gower,
the submerged bar causing the confused waters beyond.

Swirly waters taking back the sand bar

The water level is rising with each wave and I don’t fancy staying out of my boat for long, as my firm footing starts to change to quick sand.

Leaving Nash I keep well offshore and ride the conveyor belt back to the frozen car.

After all that, I hope it’s fairly obvious why you don’t need much more of an incentive to get out of bed and go for a paddle!

15.7 Nm (29 km)

Abacus on Amphetamine

2010-10-23T10:06:00.011+01:00

The met office website is one of those places I pick up weather information before deciding on whether to go paddling or not. The inshore forecast they provide, plus a look at some wind sites that give more localised info, help me make my decision.

Never really thought much about how this stuff was put together, so I was intrigued when on their website the Met Office put an invitation for people to come along to their HQ in Exeter for an open day. I applied for a ticket and without delay one arrived in the post.

A very early morning wake up to the light of the moon

I'm well into England and down the M5 before we rotate into the sun's rays. Coming off at Jn 29 you can't really miss the Met Office's Hadley Centre, not that there are Monty Python like sun rays out of dark clouds pointing you to it, but more like numerous highways agency sign posts. They don't want you to miss this expensive building.

To say the place is impressive would be an understatement. It is super high tech and a super cool open plan environment. Each wing of the building isn't named Block A, B, C etc. No, not cool enough, each are named after a lighthouse around the world that begins with that letter. Eddystone, Fastnet are the only two I remember, the others are from far flung corners of the world. The place is heated by using the heat generated from it's computer system to heat up stone heat sinks in the floors, and then blow air over it to circulate it around the building.

There is a stream running through "the street" inside the building, and there is even a part built lighthouse structure at one end. The place has overtones of a Google Office work environment with think areas, comfy sofas and "intelligent art". Not quite my preconceived idea of an MOD department. Well done I say.

This open day is part of a consultation with the general public to find out what we like/don't about their service and what we would like to see in the future.

One of the newest offerings of their forecasting system will be made available shortly. A huge increase in the number of locations that we can access for weather predictions is going to be made. We will be able get forecasts for some 5000 points in the UK.

You can even ring them up for a localise forecast for your garden party. To help them with their predictions of the weather chaos system they have a computer.

Their current IBM supercomputer

The beast in the basement thing is being fed huge nay colossal amounts of data from satellite and real land based readings. These are fed in to the computer for a complex predictive model to be run which then spits out the weather (sort of).

I often wondered why the inshore forecast was updated in 6hr intervals, well it seems that it takes a while for each of these runs to complete, and then a forecaster to interpret and tweak and add that vital bit of human interpretation override. Can't always take a computers answer for it you know, even one that cost £33 million.

To call HAL's big brother a £33 million pound oversized calculator, would be insulting to its ability to make 137 trillion computations a second. This is a supercomputer, and one of the fastest on the planet.

Oh did I forget to say they have 2 of them. Just in case the main one fails there is a back up that can come on line and take over. This weather stuff is of national importance. The Met provides information to the military, airlines, environment agency, health, and loads of things I didn't appreciate they do.

The subtle irony of this centre, which provides for the UK Government an assessment of both natural and man-made climate change, is that the center itself produces some 12,000 tons of carbon dioxide a year. Presumably it's the amount of carbon dioxide created at the power station to generate the 1.2MW of electricity a year it uses (enough to light a small town). This is used mainly to power the beast in the basement. This is mitigated by an estimated 20 million tons of carbon dioxide a year saved globally due to the use of their aviation forecasts allowing aircraft to save fuel by using the wind direction at different levels of the atmosphere, as well as various economic savings through bad weather warnings (flood, ice, marine) which allow the various authorities and individuals to take appropriate action (or not).

The guys here admit, they do get it wrong sometimes, it is after all only a probability of an event happening within a chaotic system.

As I looked out the window I half expected in pure Kubrick style "Just what do you think you're doing, Eurion?" to pipe out of some hidden tannoy.

"Just checking the weather!"

Strange Goings On

2010-10-17T01:16:00.002+01:00

It's been one of those glorious mornings. Hywel had suggested one of his regular trips. So after a very lazy start to the day, Adrian and I met him at Swanbridge and left the enticemennt of the Captains Wife for a jaunt over to Flatholm.

Low neap tide and a high pressure together with little wind provided us with a fairly calm playground.

Flatholm, with strangeness occurring at the waters edge

What I hadn't expected, or had I seen before, was the way the opposite side of the Bristol Channel looked. Some strange atmospheric conditions were causing mirages to occur and the opposite side of the channel was broken up in to what looked like lots of islands.

Steepholm to the right with a new island to the left (Brean Down)

Brean Down 'Island' with other 'Islets'
(click on the pic to see a slightly bigger version)

Hywel approaching Flatholm

Giving way!

We do an anticlockwise circumnavigation of and head on back to the Captains Wife to sink a well earned pint of "Tribute" and contemplate projects.

A short trip, but what a glorious day and a fantastic pint.

7Nm around the island

Trip of the light fantastic

2010-07-12T23:59:00.004+01:00

Looking out towards Mumbles and the Gower

Seeing this as I'm doing the washing up, I just had to get out tonight. Nobody else available, I decided on a solo night time excursion. Unbelievably calm evening, absolutely zero wind, no swell, nearly dark. Perfect.

A rocky launch from Southerndown I head west and ride with the ebbing spring tide towards Ogmore. The New Moon has just passed so it will be a nice dark night.

It is just so calm out here tonight.

I'm there in no time, the water giving no indication of the full flow in progress. I turn tail anticipating a bit of a work out to get back as the last of the light disappears.

Now it's time to see if the magic I came out to see, appears.

Yes I saw it, or did I?

Gradually as the darkness deepens they appear like little fairies, fire sparks on the water, the magic of summer night time paddling - bio luminescence - don't even want to know how it works - it's a phantasmagorical phenomenon.

Returning to Southerndown, the tide now well down the beach for a nice safe sandy landing - just as well 'cos I can't see a thing.

It's life, Jim, but not as we know it

2010-04-16T20:33:00.014+01:00

With Iceland's volcano Eyjafjallajokull (easy for some to say and entertaining listening to those that try) spewing ash into the air, British air space has been closed down and life on planet earth has taken a bit of a breather. No plane trails in the sky and wondrous sunsets are becoming the norm each evening.

Jim Krawiecki got in contact to ask if I fancied a paddle while he was down visiting God's Country. A paddle around Gower was in the offing, and almost the last bit of the South Wales coast I haven't yet paddled. It didn't take long to decide what to do.

I owe Jim a great debt. He co-wrote a book, with Andy Biggs, called Welsh Sea Kayaking - 50 great sea kayaking voyages. I was fortunate to pick up the book when I started to sea kayak. It provided inspiration and importantly the bits of information that made it possible for someone new to the sport to have at their finger tips the bits of information that can be used to plan and execute a successful trip. I have been steadily notching up each of the trips in the book - sad I know.

We meet at Port Eynon after work. The plan was simply to head out towards Worms Head, west, for a short paddle along the coast with the anticipation of watching the sun go down.

Jim taking pics of birds - he is a fountain of feathered knowledge

And I thought curlew's lived only on the marshes

Leaving the bay, just around Port-Eynon Point there is an odd inlet called Culver Hole.

If you don't look, you might easily miss it

Culver Hole

It's odd to see a blocked up cave in this area of unspoilt coastline. There are tales of it being a smugglers cave with an underground passage to the salt house at Port Eynon bay.

We could paddle right up to the base of it where there is an entrance. We didn't land to explore, leave that for a different trip. Culver Hole was most likely used as a dove cot to provide meat and eggs for the gentry.

As we move on around the coast the sun heads down, and the sky begins to fill with a vibrant orange. We are on for a show, the Icelandic dust is doing its scattering best.

Worms Head

Watching the sun going down I think of all those folk around the globe not being where they want to be. As for me, I'm quite content watching our star disappear over the horizon.

The sun put to bed, we turn to paddle back as the clear night sky turns dark and the stars begin to show themselves, the moon just about there. Out of this world.

Only downside was that sadly on returning in darkness to the beach we found that the fish and chip shop is closed.

We retire to the bar for recompense and the evenings entertainment begins in earnest.

Caves, Cliffs and Kayaks

2010-04-11T19:12:00.000+01:00

Newton is a sandy beach sitting just east along the coast from Porthcawl. At this time of year you can park right close to the slipway that takes you down to the sand, and access to the water is easy. Paddling here there always seems to be a little bit of agitated water near the point. I'm paddling with Adrian today with the intention of going up the Bristol Channel with the flood tide through Nash and to finish up at St Donat's.

We make a beeline over the bay towards Ogmore and paddle up along the coast to east of Black Rocks. The tide is not too high yet, but high enough to get access to get to explore some of the caves.

Some of the rocks at the base of the cliffs provide a playground for a bit of rock hopping.

This section of coast between Ogmore and Southerndown always offers something different depending on the state of the tide and swell.

There is a tiny bit of swell and I get rock hopped onto a ledge when caught by the rogue wave in a set.

There is a definable pattern of surf sets building up, this is a pleasant surprise as we thought it would be fairly flat today. Gradually we make our way towards Southerndown at every opportunity looking in every available nook and cranny.

We stop for a bite to eat on the exposed sandy beach at Southerndwn. Follow this up with a bit of surfing. We have the surf all to ourselves as the unexpected sets haven't attracted any of the regular boardies.

Traeth Mawr towards Nash Point

Continuing along Traeth Bach and Traeth Mawr (the Welsh for little and big beach).
Just before we round Nash Point to play, it's nice to spot a seal in the water off Cwm Marcross. After giving us a few stares, he doesn't follow us as I guess he's busy feeding in the shallower waters.

Nash Lighthouse

We have a bit of excitement on the lively waters around the point and head on towards St Donat's under the shadow of the two lighthouses at Nash Point.

Great afternoon paddle.

(9.4Nm just over 17km)

Purple Haze. Not quite Hendrix, but still an experience

2010-04-10T19:21:00.001+01:00

I really enjoyed the late evening paddle last night. The high pressure and calm weather are still with us, so decided on a repeat of the trip out from Southerndown beach to the Mid Nash buoy to catch the last of the day's rays.

Leaving at about 1900 the water was like a mill pond. With no wind to talk about I'm at the buoy within 40mins.

More Black Yellow Black Cardinal Buoy than
"White Boy Black Boy Blues"

It's not until you get to the anchored buoy that you have any idea of the speed of the water flow that you're traveling over.

Golden Brown texture like sun . . .

There is a lazy hazy feel about the evening. No sound at all other than when I'm paddling. It's bordering on the transcendental.

I see wind

You can see the light breeze on the water. It's dancing in front of your eyes, the pattern it introduces to the water reveals its intention, you can anticipate the moment it touches you as it approaches.

The sun heads on down and the sky turns colour and the offshore wind begins to play with the mirror finish as the balance of heat changes from land to sea.

The Purple Haze

The sun disappears over the horizon, and I turn and head on back to dry land.
As I said, not quite Hendrix, but still an experience.

5.9Nm (11km)

Kayak, Still sea, Nash and not so Young

2010-04-09T17:54:00.011+01:00

I think a high pressure system may be sitting over the top of my house. The weather has been glorious all day, there is no wind, the sun has been out and it's Friday evening. It's getting late but I'm in need of some paddling, really quite fancy a dusky excursion.

Driving down the road to the beach I can see out across the flat calm Bristol Channel and spy the Mid Nash buoy way out off the coast and the Somerset coast beyond. That's it then, a paddle out to the buoy and back before dark.

The tide has started to ebb and we are on neaps. The navigation on this is going to be a bit suck and see, the buoy is directly off the coast so some sort of ferry glide is in order. Leaving the, now exposed, sandy beach at Southerndown I head out towards the middle of the Bristol Channel. Keeping the buoy on the down stream side, I use some dips in the hills on the backdrop as transit points and paddle out towards the Nash sand bar. It's very calm, almost eerie out here on your own.

Crossing over the sand bar and approaching the deeper waters the transit points are moving and I have to adjust my ferry angle as the tidal flow really starts to become apparent. The last few hundred yards I have to work hard not to miss the buoy. But I make it.

Mid Nash south cardinal buoy

3 miles off the coast and starting the return trip, I decide to let the coastguard know that I will be returning to shore and arriving at dusk. I didn't want the embarrassment of looking up at the Porthcawl lifeboat. Jim and Neil had that pleasure last year on a dusk paddle when they were helped out by a 999 call from a walker on an evening stroll.

After the normal questions of "what colour is your boat?" and "what's your ETA?", I'm rather amused by the question "what life saving equipment do you have on board?". I thought better of the reply that I would just nip below decks and check. Visions of defibrillators were going through my mind, so I asked politely that I didn't quite know what she meant. Lifejacket was what she was after. I didn't like to tell her I was already wearing it, just in case she got the wrong impression and thought I was expecting to go down.

The trip back towards the shore is a nice relaxed paddle, the sky begins to dim as the sun slips behind some low grey clouds that have materialised. The smell of bar-b-q smoke and fire lighter drift on the offshore evening wind playing with my nose and the flicker of the orange flames come into view on the approaching beach.

I land as the sun finally slips out from behind some clouds and starts doing that wonderful trick of turning into a fiery orange disk as it slips over the edge. Rock on the summer.

Self indulgent behaviour

2010-03-14T13:21:00.034Z

It's Mothers Day today.
I had been warned, however, that there would be no paddling next weekend, as fatherly duties would be in order. But today was a free paddle day.

With the proviso I called in to see my mum at some point with it being mothers day an' all. As if I wouldn't!

Nobody else was about for a longish paddle so this was incentive enough to try something different. After recently reading a description of Stuart’s trip out from Limpert Bay at Gileston, I wondered why I hadn’t set out from here before. After all it is just a few minutes drive away.

I do know now though.

It is a horrible place to launch from at low tide when you are on your own.
Best described as a long carry out to the water over a natural obstacle course. Steep pebble boulders followed by a tiny bit of sand that quickly changes to a muddy silt covered sand. The silt varying in depth from a scant covering to ankle deep horrible patches, as well as seaweed covered rocks.

It is a long way out at low water, I said that didn’t I. Yes it’s a long way out. And when you get on the water the reef seems to go on for ever before the deep water is found. A note for the future – or in a glass boat – float the boat out quite a way first before launching, your keel will be happier with you!

Limpet Bay, with Aberthaw powerstation, a very very long horrible solo carry

It doesn’t have the most picturesque of backdrops either, Aberthaw power station imposingly looms over the bay. Just as well it will be out of sight, behind me, for the first half of the trip.

In a similar vain to last weeks forecast, the reality was different to the predicted. Force 2-3 predicted, locally more like a 3-4. Windfinder was spot on again.
I was going to be in for a bit of an exercise paddle today.

I launch, eventually, and get out beyond Breaksea Point, the southernmost point of mainland Wales (Flat Holm Island being the most southerly, but it's errrr, an island), and head down the coast.

Fishermen at the southernmost tip of Wales, on Breaksea Point,
with the powerstation water intake on the horizon

Getting on the water 40 mins before low tide, I had a fresh head wind to contend with on the outward trip. With an open day ahead of me, the plan was to paddle as far as I wanted, or could, against the wind and the soon to turn tide, stop for a bite to eat and then come back with the flow, with the wind on my back.

With the tide so far out there would be no opportunity to do any rock hopping or swell riding - there was no swell at all anyway.

That little white speck in the middle is Nash Point lighthouse

Mentally I set my lunch stop and turning point at a small beach just before Traeth Mawr, the other side of Nash Point. The incentive was to get there before the tide had built up enough to stop my rounding the point.

Tresilian Bay, with Reynard's Cave on the left (scene of the execution of pirate Colyn Dolphin). The tide not high enough yet to go and explore

Given the conditions, I was maintaining just over a fairly respectable 3 knots. That was until I passed Nash Lighthouse and went around Nash Point. Just beyond the opening of Cwm Marcross the waters quickly kicked up a state of confusion as they passed over the rock ledges.
I was quite surprised how confused they were so close to the shore. My speed here fluctuated wildly, between 2 and 3 knots. I was glad to see the back of the overfalls and headed for the first sandy spot as a prize.

Looking back along the beach to west side of Cwm Marcross

I was pretty tired after just over 2hrs of constant paddling. It was a welcome rest stop and time to have hot soup and some lunch to recharge. I was going to pay for this I could tell, as my muscles cooled down and stiffened up.

Normally I would stop every 30 – 40 mins for a drink, allowing the muscles a little rest, but today I was more concerned about making as much headway as possible before the flood tide had a chance to pick up any opposing flow. Any stopping would have had me going backwards with the wind and tide.

The view the other way towards Traeth Mawr

Pulling the kayak up the sandy beach, I could relax, and take in the view. Time was a little on my side now, the tide would be building up to its peak flow, so my return trip should be a breeze.

When the tide reached up to the boat, lapping at it, trying to draw it in, it was time to leave my rest spot. Muscles were aching a bit as I got back in, and not being in the grove so to speak I was bit apprehensive being drawn immediately through the melee of confused water. The battle was swift, and at 7 knots it wasn't going to last very long. It was a bit of relief to get out the other side and get on the conveyor belt home.

Weeeeeeee.

It took just over an hour to paddle all the way back. My speed seemed to be around the 6 knot mark for most of the return.

Looking down and out across the Bristol channel to England

from the southernmost tip of mainland Wales

Arriving back at Limpert Bay, the tide was quite a bit further in than when I had first left, so the carry out wasn't quite so bad, except that the boat now seemed to weigh a ton on my aching shoulders!

Limpert Bay is well known for fossils, but not for me today, I feel a bit of an old fossil myself limping up to the car.

At the top of the beach there are left overs from coastal defences laid out during the second world war.

Remnants of WWII coastal defences

At the going down of the sun . . . still a reminder

Looking back from Gileston, at the water intake and the concrete blocks

After leaving a bottle of bubbly with my mum, I couldn't wait for a nice hot bath with some relaxing bubbles of my own and a big glass of red wine.

Today I felt I was in need of it.

Lying in that hot bubbled-bath water, I couldn't move without groaning, but I felt indulged to the max.

12.8Nm (23.7km)

Kayaking – a matter of discipline

2010-03-07T23:03:00.007Z

Nige reunited with a sea kayak after 4 years.
Not sure if that is apprehension on his face or not.

Chris and I wanted to return the experiential swapping sentiment to our river paddling friend Nige. After Nige had looked after Chris and myself so well on the Ogmore, we thought we could do no less than to oblige him when he wanted to return to the salt air and denser waters of the sea after a four year leave of senses.

The inshore forecast however looked as if it could be interesting.

Wind: Easterly 4 or 5, occasionally 6 at first.
Sea State: Smooth or slight, but moderate for a time in southwest.
Weather: Fair.
Visibility: Good.

Going with an ebbing tide, the wind on our backs and a get out plan should things not be to rosey, we decided to set up the shuttle and check on the actual situation on the ground (or sea even).

Nige Chris and Jim at Llantwit Major. I have no idea what Chris is trying to do!

The more local wind forecast, which tends to paint a far more accurate picture of what to expect, was painting a more optimistic situation, a max top end of F4 and this was reflected in the conditions that met us.

Jim and Chris at Col-huw Beach - think Jim is saying no photos!

Plan then, was to leave Col-huw Beach and use the ebb to head west towards Southerndown taking in the east Nash buoy on the way.

Jim meets up with us at Llantwit and we are soon all set to go.
We are on the water about an hour after high tide.

Thanks to the combined wind and tidal stream, it seems we are at Nash Point in no time at all.

Nash Point

Jim just passing Cwm Marcross

We zip past the East Nash cardinal at a tad under 7 knots. The sun is out and the wind has all but gone.

We enjoy the paddle along the glorious heritage coast to arrive at Southerndown just as the tide is approaching the rocks to land on the last of the sand.

I think Nige even enjoyed it.

Could that be a smile on Nige's face?

A short but enjoyable 6.2 Nm (11.5km) trip.

Please . . . just a Small Miracle

2010-03-01T23:42:00.004Z

Today is Saint David's Day. St David is the patron saint of Wales and today is the feast day we remember his death in 589. David was a bit of a miracle worker in his time, the most noted being the one he produced when he was preaching in Llanddewi Brefi. A crowd of people gathered to hear him preach but those at the back couldn't hear him, so he laid a handkerchief on the floor to stand on, and the ground beneath him rose up, those at the rear could now hear him.

I had hoped for some sort of miracle myself, with the weather today being windless and sunny (does that count as a miracle in itself?), but fatherly duties came first and I just could not wing a day out sea kayaking. The children all get dressed up in national costume and get packed off to school, I went to work and sulked like a bid kid.

And then a glorious shining light appeared . . . stop it . . . sorry . . . getting python silly.

Looking back towards Dunraven Bay

It's starting to stay lighter later in the evening now, so this evening I decided to take advantege and escape to the sea just before sunset. Leaving Southerndown the sun was already heading for the horizon.

With the sun down low on the horizon I was treated with glorious golden light that brought the cliffs alive.

Our very own Mount Rushmore - almost?

That last bit of deep red light as the horizon is kissed

I paddled along the coast against the slowing flood tide towards Ogmore. As the sun slowly dropped I was treated to wonderful natural sculpture bathed in its warm light.

"And a glorious shining light appeared!"

I was so glad to have made the effort to get out, even if it was for a short paddle. Miracles do happen.

Sands of Time

2010-02-14T02:19:00.001Z

Sea kayaking on the Bristol Channel can't get much better than this in February, can it?

I’m going to take you to a private island that will be all yours for the duration of your stay, and a sandy beach filled with sand of such fine quality that it is dredged for its renowned smoothness.

The down side of this is that the beach is notorious, nay often described as treacherous and it is not attached to the island. To maximise your stay on either you will need to visit them a few hours either side of spring low tide. But I think it’s worth the effort.

Nash Sandbank is the sandy beach, and the detached island is of course our trusty Tusker Rock.

Leaving St Donat's Bay

Adrian, myself, Jim and Richard, leave the slipway at Atlantic College on a fantastic clear morning.

Jim in full swing

And head westward with the ebbing tide.

Approach to Nash Sound from the east

Cwm Marcross

At Cwm Marcross, the eastern tip of Nash Sandbank lies just off the cliffs of Nash.

Richard finding some excitement in the slightly confused water

Shadowed by the two Nash Lighthouses, the sandbank here is marked by an east cardinal buoy. The west Nash cardinal is a further 8 miles along the sand bank and can't be seen from here, not even on a day like this.

Our little place for a while

The Mid Nash cardinal, well, is in between the two in, errr the middle.
Not all of this vast sand bank is visible at low tides, but enough on the eastern side dries out on a spring low tide to enable a brief visit.

On Nash Sands looking down the sandbar towards the west

I think it's quite impressive.

My blue boat having a rest

Strange things happen at sea

The sand bank has a history of taking many lives, most notably the disaster that occured on the 16th of March 1831. The passenger steamer “Frolic” was wrecked on the sandbank, with the tragic loss of all on board (estimated at 80 passengers and crew – General MacLeod, army officers and Pembrokshire merchants among them).

As a consequence of the public outcry that followed, in 1832, Trinity House built the two lighthouses that can be seen today.

An early etching of the lighthouses at Nash Point

The Nash lighthouse was the last manned lighthouse in Wales. It’s other claim to fame is that in 1977 a rare tuberous thistle (Cirsium Tuberosum) was discovered growing in an unploughed limestone pasture in it’s grounds. Just thought you might like to know.

There are tales of the sand bank being used to gain revenge:

In the mid-15th century Sir Harry Stradling set sail from Somerset (his permanent residence) to visit his castle at St.Donats and en route his ship was captured by the Breton pirate Colyn Dolphyn. His ransom of 2,000 marks was so high that he was forced to sell his manors of Sutton (Glamorgan) and manors of Bassalleg, Rogerston and Tregwillim (Monmouth).
A year or so later he received information that this same pirate was approaching the Glamorgan coast, probably to revictual her in one of the inlets near St.Donats. That night by the use of false lights on the cliffs, Sir Harry lured this ship on to the treacherous sandbank at Nash Point, where he and his followers captured Colyn Dolphyn. After a summary trial, for which he was afterwards severely reprimanded, the pirate was condemned to death. The method of his execution was to bury him up to his neck in the sand at the mouth of Tresillian Cave, leaving him to drown when the tide came in. It is said that his screams still haunt Tresillian.
Stradling - Legends of St. Donat's Castle

Children in the local school at Wick, re-tell the story of Colyn Dolphyn the pirate – who used to take refuge on the island of Lundy.

Adrian crossing the sandbank

Leaving these tales of woe behind we head out towards the Mid Nash cardinal with the last of the ebb, arriving at slack water.

Richard passes Mid Nash Cardinal

Glamorgan Heritage Coast at its best

We head now against the start of the flooding tide, towards Tusker Rock to stop off for our lunch break.

Tusker has it's own stories to tell

We sit and watch as the tide begins to rise and reclaim the rock. This place also has claimed many lives and vessels in the past - but I think we'll leave this for another time - enough history for one post I think.

Looking back towards Nash from Tusker

After taking our tucker on Tusker, we hitch a ride on the accelerating conveyor back through Nash Sound at a sedate 6.8 knots.

Rounding Nash Point we head on back to St Donat's Bay to finish quite a spectacular day's paddling.

14.5Nm (26km)

Two new lads - new buoy and new boy.

2010-02-07T22:23:00.021Z

Reflecting in the after glow of an epic first surf of the year, I'm thawing out in front of the solid heat of a log fire, contemplating 2 trips, early start or lazy start.

Aching I decide on the later.

At noon the next day I find myself outside the Captain's Wife at Swanbridge, situated right next to Sully Island. The sun is out, fleetingly, and then decides to disappear for the duration behind the clouds of an overcast day.

My worries of being overdressed are put to rest as Hywel is intending to do some rescue practice for his up and coming 4 star assessment. We meet up with one of his regular paddling friends Rob who has 'volunteered' to get in the water for him.

Rob - wondering if this beats Sardinia as a location

It's neap tides and the intention first is to paddle up the channel to Lavernock Point and play on some rough water as the tide turns. A new play ground for me, so I'm looking forward to seeing what is on offer.

We arrive at the slab at Lavernock just in time, a little later and we would have sweated to get around. We sit and wait for the flow to build up.

Nothing exciting materialises.

We look out towards Flatholm and decide on one of the buoys out in the channel is fair game.

A nice ferry glide out. Seems to take no time to arrive, the flow has build up to just over 3 knots when we sit in the eddy behind the buoy.

This was a new buoy for me - so had to look it up on the charts when I got home (sad I know).

Special Mark Buoy

Special Mark - used to mark areas of no navigational significance but of a special nature. In this case it is the end of an unspecified discharge pipe. Does make you wonder what it is if they are not specifying it.

Rob reaches the buoy

You can just see the red Raine buoy in the distance.

Looking onto Barry - lovely innit

We paddle down with the tide, and in no time at all arrive at Sully Island ready for a little immersion - well Rob and Hywel are.

Hywel psyching himself up to roll. Flatholm in background.

I'm happy to stay in my boat and am satisfied with just a few left/right rolls.
Talk about ice cream head! That water is getting mighty chilly.

Best retreat to the Captain's Wife for refreshment. Various legends bound about this place, but it is said that before it became a pub, Sully House stood here, and was once tenanted by a ship's captain. He was in the habit of taking his wife to sea, for I'm sure he enjoyed a spot of home cooking. In them superstitious days it was considered unlucky to take a woman to sea and on one of his voyages she caught a fever and died on board. Having a corpse on board was also regarded as unlucky, so the captain stuffed her body doubled up in a lead-lined trunk in his cabin. On arriving at Sully the captain hid the trunk in the woods near the house while he could make arrangements for her coffin and burial. When he returned to collect the body, the trunk and body had gone. A ghost of a woman has haunted the site until during the 1970s when during some renovation work, underneath the area of the old stable block, a skelrton of a woman was found, doubled up. The remains were given proper burial, and the roaming captain's wife ghost was seen no more.

Not forgetting the apprés de-brief at the Captain's Wife!

Short trip today, but I'm glad we made the effort. No, really!

Not a huge trip, but nice to get out all the same

Traditionem

2010-01-01T19:50:00.009Z

As one year ends a new one surely begins. Getting out for a paddle on New Years Day is stating to become a ritual neu a tradition. Needless to say I think it is a good one. Unlike the ritual that some other folk seem to partake – the annual New Year morning swim.

Well each to their own. It is after all, all good healthy fun, unless you have a dodgy ticker.

Having feasted over the festive season, I feel a little bit porky to say the least and try to rally up some souls to help me reduce my guilt and my girth - I find it necessary to open up the straps on my BA an alarmingly long way. Surely this is down to the extra layers necessary today as the water temp is heading a bit on the low side?
I’m joined by Chris and Hywel for a trip out to Tusker Rock as per last year. This time we have a beautiful sunny morning with millpond conditions.

We escape the utterly mad crowd on the beach and head out to sea for a little peace and tranquility.

It is not long before Tusker Rock appears and we land for a little walkabout.

The snow is still on the hill tops in the distance, but it is quite nice here in the sun . . . and three layers of gear!

I didn’t bother with the BBQ this year. Typical, it would have been a nice day for it, instead I shared out a few croissants with strawberry jam as a sort of continental breakfast to replace the fry-up. My excuse is that the diet starts today . . .

Take a Rest Bay Surf

2009-10-30T20:37:00.010Z

My friends Mark and Maria came over from England for a few days to do a little exploration of the Glamorgan coast.

Today there was a little bit of a swell running and an offshore wind to hold up the face of the wave. Inevitably today, getting out and landing, would involve surf.

This was to be Maria's first time out through surf, and it was to be a baptism of fire. With the tide flooding we intended to ride the incoming tide from Rest Bay and head up the channel towards Southerndown, where a sandy landing could await us.

Rest Bay: Mixing it up with the boardies
(Photo: Maria)

Rest Bay is a prime surf beach. On arrival the surf looked manageable when we looked down on the beach. It just got bigger as we made ready to launch. Maria put on an exceptional show of determination but decided after being ejected a number of times that she would stay on the beach and take photos. This made me feel really rather guilty as Mark and I enjoyed ourselves out on the waves.

That little yellow thing on the left is Mark
(Photo: Maria)

Mark coming in to land. Phewww!

Mark about to catch the wave

Luuurverlee offshore wind

Bring on the next one then!

Out Beyond the Break

Yeee Haaa!
(Photo: Maria)

(Photo: Maria)

You'd never think he'd seen a boat before
(Photo: Maria)

Go Go Go!

Taking a breather

In the pocket?
(Photo: Maria)

Perhaps we should have gone for an ice cream? Next time.

Port Eynon Mumbles

2009-10-19T00:09:00.001+01:00

May 1884 saw the first lifeboat at Port Eynon, ‘A Daughter’s Offering’, put to service.

By 1906, her 22 years of toil had seen her save 39 souls and she gracefully retired.

Her replacement, ‘Janet’, was not to be so lucky.

Her tragic story began on New Years Day 1916. ‘S.S. Dunvegan’, dragging her anchor in Oxwich Bay, was in danger of wrecking off Pennard Cliffs. Putting out through heavy seas and a gale the crew, together with the lifeboat from Mumbles, rowed out to offer their assistance, only to find it not required. Turning to head for home she was hit by a huge wave that capsized her. By design she self righted. One of the crew had managed to stay aboard while the remainder were thrown to the sea. One crew member never made it back aboard and was drowned. While the others scrambled aboard ‘Janet’ was caught broadside by another roller and went over again. Two more members of the crew were claimed by the storm. The crewmen aboard the Mumbles lifeboat passed by, but in the gale they were unaware of the unfolding tragedy. The ‘Janet’, now oar less, drifted with the wind. 30 hours after launching she arrived at Mumbles with the remnants of her crew suffering from exhaustion and exposure.

Following this tragedy, the RNLI closed the Port Eynon lifeboat station.

Copies of news articles on the Disaster can be seen on the wall of the fish and chip shop at the top of the beach.

Memorial in the graveyard of Port Eynon

Driving down into Port Eynon, you pass a church on the last bend towards the beach. It is very easy to miss the lifeboatman that looks outward from the graveyard.

By coincidence our trip today has the same start and end point as that of the tragic tale of 1916, Port Eynon along the coast, crossing Oxwich Bay to end at Mumbles lifeboat station.

Hywel, Adrian and Chris on Port Eynon beach

Horton across Port Eynon Bay

Heading out across Port Eynon Bay to Oxwich Point

Caswell Bay

Langland Bay

Mumbles Head Lighthouse

Mumbles lifeboat station

19/10/09

Taking notes on River Running

2009-09-05T00:16:00.011+01:00

The conflict of interpretation and opinion between river anglers and river kayakers gains heat and interest as the Welsh Assembly discusses access to water issues,

It was rather timely, then, that I was invited by Nige to go kayaking on the river Ogmore. My sea boat would be a little out of place here, so he kindly provided me with something small and plastic that floated.

The anglers on this river are gaining or should I say retaining a reputation for their take on who can partake on this (their) waterway.

Chris and self are the numtys on this trip, but looking forward to it. Having gone a short way down the river we pass an angler who shouts something at as and whips out his mobile to begin a conference call. Are we expecting trouble? I think positive vibes.

Chris enjoys the calm and tranquility

Onwards we venture. Chris then realises he has left his keys in the car. Not his car, which is at the get out, no, he has left them in one of the cars at the get in. He and Rhys walk back to fetch them. After what seems like ages they return with the key and a couple of notes that have been left on the windscreens.

Lies, damn lies and interpretation

The signed up for excitement is yet to come.
Paddling down the picturesque river, we go over some small weirs and even do a bit of surfing on a river, how crazy is that! Yayeee.

Nige captured some of our short trip with his Spielberg skills

Rhys counts the number of numptys getting back off the river safely

It was an enjoyable day all round which started a bit of additional topical debate.

Thanks to Nige and Rhys for being our warrior leaders. I hadn’t been on a river and had such entertainment since my early teens. I remember paddling down the Ogmore from Bridgend all the way to the seashore, and recall being followed by a green clad man along the river bank who purported to being a bailiff. It seems I was paddling faster than he could trot and I don’t recall what he was saying. The atmosphere doesn’t seem to have changed in 30 years.

I’m thinking rivers now and am reminiscing of a crazy paddle trip in fiberglass ‘snipes’ down the tiny river called The Thaw from just above Cowbridge to as close as we dared get to the sea, at Aberthaw, before we thought we'd get consumed by the cement plant – I’ve just google earthed it and it looks as if we could make it all the way! Sounds like a plan to me . . .

South West Sea Kayak Meet 2009 - day 1

2009-06-12T13:09:00.001+01:00

Taking the day off work I share a lift with Richard to get down to East Prawle on the south coast of Devon to partake in a weekend of paddling, entertainment and scialising. Mark Rainsley, after the successful launch last year of his guide book on paddling the South West, decided to run an informal gathering of paddlers to take in some of this wonderful coastline. The only problem is that when we arrive at East Prawle in the afternoon we can't see very much at all. The fog is so thick you can hardly see 50 feet in front.

Unperturbed, Richard and I pitch our tents and head off to find an early evening paddle before the main event starts tomorrow. Launching from the pebbled Blackpool Sands beach we head east into the fog towards Dartmouth, rock hopping and exploring on the way.

Memorial near Meg Rocks

We came across this memorial cross fixed to the rocks, but didn't get close enough to read the inscription. Neither of us have been able to find any information about it yet.

Kingswear Castle at the entrance to the Dart

Richard took some photos of the interesting little finds we made on the way.

A fairly short little paddle but none the less was a good appetite whetter - that ensured a thirst needed satisfying at The Pigs Nose . . .

"What... is your name?"

2009-05-03T00:41:00.121+01:00

Finishing a lovely (and well deserved) pint at the Newport Boat Club in Parrog I dart across country from Poppet Sands to arrive at the Lobster Pot Inn at Marloes. Preparations are to be made here for a second day’s paddling down in Pembrokshire.

I meet up with a merry band of paddlers to indulge in a few beers, late tucker and to browse over maps and charts, before paddling proceedings begin in the morning– a trip out to Skomer Island.

The last time I was here, apart from being filled with anxiety over Jack Sounds reputation, I was also a little late to take in the ground tunnel antics of the nesting puffins at close hand. Not so this time, on both accounts. This time it’s earlier in the season and I expect to see the puffins up close and personal.

Morning sees myself, Claire, Mark, and Chris launch from Martin's Haven. I'm trying out a glass version of my trusty plastic Capella. Shiny and rigid, I quite like the feedback that the boats stiffness gives me.

We go down with the flow of the ebbing tide, through the Sound, before crossing over to the south side of Skomer. This way we have by-passed the more confused larger water of the tide race, and begin to explore the base of the cliffs.

Plenty of different bird life to observe and get close to on the water.

Guillemot

Puffins taking off and landing are most comical to watch

It's not long before we reach Seal Hole, where we quickly become the observed, and followed.

Grey seal in pursuit - at a distance

Mew Stone

Once we reach the Mew Stone, the ground swell that has been building up over the last day makes its presence known. We decide not to go around to face the brunt of the Atlantic and return in the relative sheltered water.

Paddling through the cave on the east side of The Neck will take you from the southern shore to northern side at the right state of tide and with some lucky timing. (This explains the little 'overland' track on the gps track - was in fact underland.)

Climbing up the steep path from the jetty to the top of Skomer I saw the sight of a man running at full speed to intercept us. The man now stood at the top of the winding path like the bridgekeeper from the Python’s Holy Grail - Bridge of Death scene. . . . the comedy of it, I half expected

“What . . . is your name? What . . . is your quest? and What . . . is your favorite colour?”

No such thing, it was the resident warden, receipt book in hand, demanding our landing fees. Some extortionate price was mentioned. . . good grief, didn't he know we had just taken our life in our own hands and paddled here. . . from the mainland as well - for gods sake do we have to pay? Neither of us had any cash. Diplomatically Chris put the warden at ease - negotiated our payment when we returned to Martin's Haven. So on trust we were let onto the island. Our puffin quest now unhindered we meet up with the remainder of the group who had taken a leisurely trip over on the boat, and go to watch the comical puffins come in to feed their young.

For puffin good photos

The trip track