Breaking In - Breaking Out- What?

Eddie, are you kidding?
I've seen you on my TV
Eddie, are you kidding? - Just Another Band From L.A.

Are you ready for a rough ride?

I like rough water (yes I thought I liked rough water), North Wales, Anglesey, has to be the classic races of the Stacks and Penrhyn Mawr.
Seen it on those TITS DVD's on the TV (hard core, kayaking porn as they are shockingly referred to).

Got to give it a shot.

Thought I'd better be enlightened on just what an eddy is, how to see one, and what to do in them. So first day of the symposium I signed up to be enlightened by Fiona as to just what was an eddy. We ventured out to play just west of Cemlyn.


Put into practice the breaking-in, breaking-out and ferry glides as well as throwing in a bit of rock hopping.


OK, done that.

Day 2: lets sign up for the overfalls and tide races then.
From Soldiers Point we dropped around through the fog to North Stack tide race and nipped through into a holding eddy.
Nice, calm, eddy. Nice eddy!
Here I sat and watched the tide race, and watched some more.
It was exactly how I felt just before jumping off the wing of an aeroplane, parachuting for the first time, I watched waiting for that moment of commitment when there is no going back. Then something in my head said go.
Off I went, I broke in and the ferry glide was fast and I moved across the conveyor belt. This was fine. Really? Yes.
OK that's enough for the minute. Lets get back to the eddy.
If my arse was puckering I don't know, as I was trying to remember to breath as I paddled like some mad thing going nowhere caught in the eddy line. All of Fiona's teachings fell into place and I broke out (I didn't know eddy lines could be a few feet wide).
I have to admit that I enjoyed that feeling of being off my comfort zone.
Big surf doesn't intimidate me at the break, but this was different somehow, smaller waves but an unknown quantity at this point. It was the uncertainty that was un-nerving. I wanted to do it again. And I did. A few more times, after each adrenalin rush had subsided. The biggest rush had to be when I was out in the race just as the wash from the Seacat came through.

Jim - wondering if or when to jump into the race at North Stack

This was the time and place to try this out, if it went tits up then there were great people about to catch you. As Jim found out.

Good on Jim for taking a swim, at least he was pushing his envelope


Hywel enjoying the moment

Finishing at North Stack we paddle west around for our lunch stop at Parliament Cave.

Lunch stop at Parliament Cave

After which we moved on to South Stack (which wasn't running - was there a small sense of relief or disapointment - I don't know), then through Penrhyn Mawr to finish at Porth Dafarach. Here we were greeted with a nice swell and some fun surfing took place before landing.

After a nice day paddle, what better way to finish the day than song and beer. So we did.


Day 3 we did the same trip again, this time fog was very thick to start and we only played at South Stack for about 5 minutes each, but there were lots of us.


The sun finally came out and we got to see the scenery we missed the previous day.

South Stack Lighthouse shrouded in mist

Returning to Porth Dafarch

Kayaking porn . . .

Be gentle with me, I am a symposium virgin.

This weekend that is going to change. I am making the trek from South to North Wales, to the Gogledd where "Gogs" do live. Passport is ready and have brushed up on my Gog speak. (I should explain there is a bit of the Irish, Cork and Kerryman banter between the North and South Walians.)

Can you tell I'm excited, well wouldn't you be. Anglesey, hub of Welsh sea kayaking and all that. Nigel Dennis is running the 24th Anglesey Sea Kayaking Symposium.

It promises to be a long weekend orgy of kaykaking stuff. I promise to share the kayaking porn when I return, if that is the overfalls don't swallow, but spit me back out!

Friends Reunited

Until today, I haven't walked for three years. That long ago I had a fortunate motorcycle accident. This involved trying to pass myself and motorcycle under a crash barrier on a remote Spanish twisty mountain road, and fly without wings over the edge.

Not recommended, but it did have some useful outcomes. I thought at the time I was about to check out-the exact moment was-"I don't think my head is going to fit under that".

I walked away with an ankle broken in 3, and a rearranged perspective on life. I say fortunate accident, as it became a life reassessment moment, and in a roundabout way led me to return to surf kayaking and the discovery of sea kayaking. (And that really was the end of life as I knew it!)

The rather over dramatic introduction of not walking needs some clarification. I refer to mountain walking and the reuniting was with my boots. It was refreshing to get out for a proper walk with some old friends (of the human kind) after such a long time.


I like mountains, enough to have been an active member for over 10 years of a mountain rescue team. My stomping ground was in the Brecon Beacons, the wilder, remoter, west of it. Here I developed a mentality of carrying all the required kit for the "what if" situation. (And the additional kit do deal with the current "has happened" shout.

This mentality seems to have found a home nicely in sea kayaking. Day, Night, Sun, Rain, Wind, Fog, Snow, whatever. Being able to face and deal with the weather mother nature decided upon is very empowering, to the extent that her moods lacked respect (within the remit of our sub 1000m operating zone I should stress).

The sea on the other hand (or foot) has the greatest of my respect.

I hope it always stays that way.

Walk or take the Escalator

After a few days of windy conditions it was a change to come home and find the wind had dropped off a little. Looked as if it would turn into one of those nice evenings.
I jumped at the chance to nip out for a short paddle along the coast.
The tide had just turned and was starting to ebb. Having no shuttle, it would be a there and back trip. Decided therefore to go out against the tide from Southerndown towards Nash.
I've paddled this stretch of water a few times now. It isn't getting boring, I guess just like a favorite local walk, it is convenient, less than 10 mins from home and along a beautiful stretch of the Glamorgan Heritage Coast.
Each time I've done it it is different. Today it felt like a jogging trip, a feel good trip to balance the weeks calorific intake against energy expended, so it felt good to be working hard against the gradually increasing opposing tide. After about an hour I could see the base of Nash Lighthouse and turned for home. Paddling back into the setting sun with the tide this time, it only took about 20 mins to return.

The sun's going down like a big bald head - Sharkey's Night - Laurie Anderson

I remember when I was little, (and confess, occasionally still do for the hell of it), running up escalators the wrong way to see if I could make it to the top.

Do you take the lift or the stairs?


It is fairly plain at which point I turned back, but I do worry how many kids these days can actually interpret graphs.

Stand and deliver!

This weekend for Mark Rainsley is the culmination of 18 months hard research, hard paddling, hard organising and no doubt some hard core fun. It is the launch date of his new book South West Sea Kayaking.


Devon bound, a group of kayakers first meet up at AS Watersports in Exeter, where the book is officially unveiled, before heading down to the Pigs Nose Inn for some home cooked victuals, cider, slide show and talk.

Everyone unashamedly (self included) seemed to quickly look through to see how many times their photos were in it and if they could match Heathers picture count. Not a chance!
The book is a great resource for anyone wanting to explore the varied south west pointy out bit of the UK. 50 trips with all the local knowledge you would want to plan a safe and interesting trip for each one, and some great pics (of me) of course!

Slapton Sands

Not able to stay down for a Sunday paddle I teamed up with Andy Levick for a short paddle in the afternoon. We paddled from Strete Gate on Slapton Sands (site of disasterous Operation Tiger) through a bit of a squall to the Dartmouth estuary, had a great Devonshire Cream Tea (what else) at the old castle café before heading back.

Just before the squall passed by

Andy enjoying the sunshine

The American amphibious tank, recovered from the bay, used as a memorial to the 749 lives lost during Operation Tiger 28 April 1944 in preparation to the D-day landings in Normandy.

Quick, sharp! to the pub!

By the time we arrived at the Pigs Nose we were eager for our tucker and many a cider was swiftly sunk, being enlightened by Marks entertainment.

Start Point lighthouse

:)

Mine Blowing

Half day off, surfing on a lovely sunny afternoon.


I was being waved at from the beach to come ashore. Looking around I could see it was not just me, but everyone was leaving the seashore. I began wondering if the sea was contaminated.


Not quite, we were being cleared by the local coastguard to allow a Navy Bomb Disposal team to blow up a WWII marine mine that had been discovered on the beach.


I'm not sure if it had floated there or had been uncovered, as I didn't go over and have a look. Apparently it was one of the kind with spikes like the picture above.

Chris managed to get a shot of the water blast as the thing blew up.


Over 60 years on, a stark reminder of the debris of war.

After the bang, we were allowed back onto the water, but by then the surf had died down.

Photos (except the mine) by Chris with his new camera.

We're loosing it . . .

. . . an hour that is, one less in the morning, groan, but more light to go out on the sea after work, yipee!
This weekend sees the start of our daylight saving.
It gives my soul a boost and marks the start of sunny days to come . . . ?

A second chance

I recently came across a pile of aerial photographs I bought as a job lot years ago, all taken around our locality. One that stuck out was the picture above, of a wrecked tanker. It was marked "Tanker at Nash - 1956".

Curious to find out what had happened, I eventually found information regarding wrecks in the Bristol Channel. There were none in '56. But I found a small amount of information regarding the BP Explorer.

"In Feb. 1961 she capsized and was lost with all hands while on passage from Swansea to Sharpness, she was discovered the next day by the old Severn Railway Bridge. The BP Explorer was salvaged and rebuilt as the BP Driver and in Jan 1962, in severe weather she too was wrecked on Nash Point, this time, thankfully, no lives were lost."

So this could be the BP Driver, there is no other mention of a tanker wreck off Nash Point that I can find. She didn't have much luck.

Click on the smaller picture above to see some detail, and you will see a lifeboat remaining on the deck. I assume that there was a second lifeboat used to save the crew. The open wooden boat isn't the sort of thing I'd like to be climbing into in a storm, but then again if your mothership is on the way down you make your choice.

Waiter! There's neoprene in my soup!

Not exactly a good day for surfing, but surfing was a good way to end the day.

Dydd Gŵyl Dewi (St Davids Day) and the Pirates of Penzance

March the first is St David's day in Wales, the day on which our patron saint died in 589AD.
One of the ways we celebrate him is to wear one of our national emblems. Traditionally a leek (being St David's own symbol) being worn by men, and the daffodil by women. The Welsh name for both plants are similar Cenin Bedr (Peter's leek - daffodil) and Cenin (leek).

Ready for school

Historically the Welsh and English have not been the best of mates, the invading Saxons in 633 met the Welsh at a battle in Heathfield. The fields here were filled with leeks, we put them in our hats to distinguish ourselves from the Saxons, and we won the battle.
I remember wearing a leek to school and we generally chomped our way through the raw veg all day. Maybe the smell of raw leek was enough to drive the Sasanachs away!
It was rather fitting therefore to arrive in Cornwall and be greeted by fields amass with commercial daffodils.

I digress. I am down in Penzance being a guinea pig for Richard Uren, a change from being a surfing hamster, (check these surfing rodents out). He is running a level 3 assessment and had put out a request for some student volunteers for his candidates to work on. Jim and I did not want to pass on the opportunity to get out on the water somewhere new, and perhaps we might learn something in the bargain.

St Michael's Mount

The first day we play around in general purpose boats in the safety of the harbour going over some personal skills. A visit later to the Dolphin pub for some ale and the search for smugglers passages.

The second day saw us on a short trip along the coast to Mousehole, via Newlyn Harbour.

Tidal Observatory on the south pier at Newlyn

You could pass the above building and not know it's significance. It is the site of Ordnance Datum the datum height for all our Ordnance Survey maps. I was looking for a shiny plaque, but there is nothing here, not even a description of the important work that was carried out here. A tide gauge was sited inside the observatory, where hourly readings of the sea level were recorded from 1 May 1915 to 30 April 1921.

At the foot of the old Penlee Lifeboat slipway. A tragic tale.

Penlee Severn Class Lifeboat, moored at Newlyn Harbour

Jim is generally not an Isolated Danger Buoy!

Jim looks for sunken treasure

We didn't get to see any pirates.