Boats in the darkness, banks of the Hawkesbury River

A busy weekend schedule meant no paddling unless I could get one in late at night, so I contacted paddler mate Ned, the engine room of the Team Fat Paddler fundraising efforts, to see if he was interested in meeting up somewhere. We decided to meet up at Mooney Mooney on the Hawkesbury River, known to many paddlers as the finish point for the Hawkesbury Canoe Classic, sometime around 9pm.

Ned of course managed to take a wrong turn somewhere and ended up on the wrong side of the river, but after doubling back we finally met up and a little after 10pm we pushed out into the inky darkness of the river.

Ned showing his appreciation for my attempt to burnt out his retina with a high powered camera flash

After a quick discussion we decided to head towards the sea. As we reached the Mooney Mooney Bridge, we paused to adjust the boats and discovered that the current was rushing down the river in the direction of the ocean as the tide went out. As we passed into the darkness beyond the bridge, Ned made the brilliant suggestion to turn north up the Mooney Mooney Creek, which quickly found us bottomed out on a shallow expanse of mud! So we doubled back and decided to follow the channel markers into the darkness, moving us ever closer to the un-seen ocean somewhere in the distance.

Over the next few hours we paddled under the stars, passing under railway bridges, sliding silently past the odd party on a boat or house, and discussing the usual stuff mates talk about when out alone. Then finally, we decided we needed to head back against from the strong currents moving us further and further away from our put-in point.

At this point the incredible connectedness of the modern world interrupted our paddle through the night. Ned’s phone rang with his wife Megan giving me the news that old mate Burnsie had just become a father, with his wife Naomi giving birth to a gorgeous baby girl. Megan had found out via Facebook… and was now telling me at midnight as I floated down a river through the countryside!

We continued our struggle against the outgoing current when rain started to gently fall. We discussed how nice it is to paddle in the rain when a strange rumbling noise started to rise in the distance, which increased in volume as whatever it was got closer. Then we realised it was heavy rain rapidly approaching us from the hills to the south. And then it hit, hard driving rain that pummelled us on the river.

Driving rain pelting the kayak

Ned paddling through the rain

Rain masquerading as snow in the camera lights

A very wet Fat Paddler

Within minutes it passed and we listened as it continued its rumbling sound northwards before striking back out against the current.  Then after another 30 minutes of paddling, and fighting the tidal race at the river’s choke point at the Mooney Mooney Bridge, we finally pulled into our launch point to pack up, at the respective time of 1am.

Finished!

As we packed up and chatted about the paddle we’d just done, I noticed a bit of movement in the grass near the boats. Getting a bit closer, something scampered away from me before doubling back and coming straight out to face me. There looking at me with its big eyes and pink nose was a young fearless Brush-Tailed Possum.

Hey there little fella, how are you going?

Now these may look cute, but they have razor-sharp claws that can do real damage if you try to handle them. I once had a staffy bull terrier that caught one in our backyard and was feeling very smug before it turned on him and with a single swipe, carved his eye-brow clean out of his skull. You’ve never seen such a tough-looking dog whimper like such a little sook, but possums can be remarkedly violent when cornered or annoyed.

The possum got bored of my attentions and went back to foraging for food, but before long another visiter turned up, an older far bigger male with a bad smell and a nasty case of mange. This fella was no-where near as cute as the little one, and started to stalk me across the car-park! This one just looked like he was itching for trouble, and I nervously back-pedalled away from him.

The big mangy Demon-Possum

As we packed our boats and gear up, this demon-possum kept stalking us around our own cars, clearly looking for trouble, and getting on both Ned and my nerves. Finally I lost patience and stood my ground, armed with my trusty Adanac Greenland paddle, and faced him front on. This didn’t scare him at all and as he continued to stalk me I had to give him a little tap on the nose with my stick. At that point he decided maybe I wasn’t going to be his dinner for the evening and he casually wondered off to stalk some fishermen who had just arrived instead.

From there we finished packing, said goodbye and got in our respective cars for the long drive home. A magical paddle under the stars with a good mate finally finished… cheers, FP.

Bridge to Beach Hat well and truly earnt!

Timbo and I met up at Blues Point a little after 5.30am to start the logistics for competing in the Bridge to Beach event on Sydney Harbour. We had to register, drive two cars to Manly, get our kayaks onto one car, drive back in the one car and find somewhere to park and launch the boats not too far from the start of the event (where hundreds of paddlers were already gathering).

Boat launch zone PACKED with hundreds of paddlers

With this logistical task out the way, we paddled a couple of kilometres to Blues Point for the start of the race. First off were the swimmers, a bunch of incredibly fit (and obviously mad) athletes who were going to swim the 11kms through ocean swell and the bullshark-infested waters of the Harbour. To say we felt a great deal of respect for these men and women would be a gross  understatement.

Swimmers and paddler-escorts start the Bridge to Beach

Then the madness of paddler-craft lining up for the rolling start begun, with hundreds of paddlers of various flavours scrambling to get at the front of the line. Paddle craft included ocean skis, sea kayaks, SUPs, surfboards and outrigger canoes, all in various lay-ups and styles. And they all bustled in the pack waiting for the rolling start to get underway, until suddenly the race started and the Harbour was churned up by hundreds of scrambling paddlers bumping into each other as they jostled to get away.

Blast Paddlers supremo Dez on his black rocket getting ready to start

And we're off! Hundreds or paddles churn up the Harbour.

As we all paddled under the Bridge and past the Prime Ministers residence at Kirribilli, one thing became clear – there was going to be wind today, and a lot of it. The weather report had indicated nor-easterly winds between 10-25 knots over the day and increasingly choppy waters, with ocean swell around 2-2.5metres. The race course is 11kms with a constant bearing of north-east, meaning we were going to paddle directly into the wind, and as luck would have it against an incoming tide. Immediately, paddlers start to get knocked out of their craft into the churned up chop.

As Tim and I paddled into the wind we both immediately felt thankful for our Greenland paddles. We could see other paddlers straining into the wind with their opposite blade constantly catching the wind, whilst our paddles were immediately advantageous with their slim profile. We weren’t going that fast (most paddlers were ahead of us) but we were able to steadily paddle away into the headwinds, pausing only to check on swimming paddlers who had fallen in, or to have a muesli bar and some water. We would also pass swimmers, doing it tough in the big chop and ocean swell that was starting to make its way into the Harbour, and couldn’t help but feel massive respect for what they were doing. This was going to be a seriously hard swim, and they plugged away in the churning waters slowly making their way to Manly.

Passing around Bradley Head, the wind, chop and swell intensity increased dramatically. We were now paddling into the full brunt of the wind, with ocean swell now catching us side on, rebound catching us from the other side and chop bouncing the kayaks around like corks. Then to add to the experience, we paddled into the path of sailing maxi-yachts, straining under spinnaker in the massive winds, healing them over to the water and rushing towards us at incredible speeds.

It was also at this point that we started to catch and pass other paddlers. A pretty fast ski paddler, who seemed to have spent more time in the drink than on his ski, admitted he’d never been out in rough water.  He started to slip back behind us, exhausted. Then we caught up with other exhausted paddlers, struggling in the swell as we steadily cruised past with our “funny looking paddles”, as so many described them.

In the big choppy mess our “slow” British skeg boats came into their own. Our better secondary stability kept us charging through the lumps, but also we started to catch the swell coming from behind us with nice little runs past struggling ruddered kayaks. At last we felt like we had some sort of advantage as we paddled past the Heads and on to the home strait to Manly Wharf.

My formative years of competitive sport now flicked the switch in my head that said “chase down those in front to finish before them”. This of course is madness, but something I’ve been afflicted with since I was a kid on a bicycle.  A few hundred metres ahead of me were half a dozen paddlers in Mirages, sleek locally made ruddered kayaks that are usually much faster than my Valley.  The paddlers looked tired, even though the water was flattening out, and I could sense blood in the water. So crouching low, I started a strong rhythmic rotating stroke that picked up my pace considerably, adding to the speed that the little swell runs were giving me.

In the last kilometre, with Tim struggling along behind me, I chased down the Mirages with a few hundred metres to go and paddled hard into the beach at Manly Wharf, where Blast Paddler maestro Dez was waiting camera in hand, cheering me into the finish zone.

Final strokes into the protected beach at Manly Wharf

But of course the race doesn’t finish there, does it. You then have to jump out of your boat (in my case I toppled out sideways into the water with the grace of an elephant seal) and run with your paddle up to the sea wall and along the beach for another 30-40 metres to the finish line. For me, this is no easy task, especially after such a difficult paddle, but with Dez running alongside cheering me on I was able to slowly run through the soft sand towards the finish line. As I got closer to the finish, Tim raced up behind me and then the two of us crossed the line together, Greenland paddles in hand, to the cheers of onlookers gathered close to the big Red Bull gate.

Running in the soft sand... will this event never end??

FP chased down by Timbo on the final stretch

Finishing together in 2hrs 3mins, the Bridge to Beach Greenlander contingent!

I suppose I should have felt ecstatic at this stage, but realistically I just wanted to collapse and vomit. This event was far harder than I had expected, and I staggered over to the drinks table to get some much needed water.  The conditions had been so rough that I had forgotten to hydrate and was suffering badly from heat exhaustion and dehydration (which in fact lasted for the rest of the day/night).

Still, I wanted to hang around for the presentations, so we chatted to other kayakers about the race. One such paddler Mick had just finished it in his new Rockpool kayak, a sexy red glitter and star covered skeg kayak that we had been admiring earlier. In fact it had been its maiden paddle, as he’d only just picked it up from the boys at Expedition Kayaks the day before, and he was now looking at a paddle back again to his waiting car.

Mick, who came in a little faster than us in his new Rockpool

Finally we watched as all the sporty types (including previous World Champion Ironmen and swim stars) came up to receive their medals for winning their respective classes, before the “random draw” for a bunch of prizes including a Bic Scarpa kayak. And then unbelievably, Timbo’s name got called for the kayak! With Tim not quite registering what had just happened, I had to basically shove him out of the crowd and up to the podium to accept his prize!

Timbo and his new kayak - haha!

All up a really tough day on the water, but a fair bit of fun and great to be a part of something so competitive. We may not have taken podium places or smashed any records, but we had definitely left our mark on the event.

Last but not least, Team Fat Paddler member and fund-raising champion Ned had decided to take on “PaddleFest” up on Macquarie Lakes, with a 20km paddle in fairly rough conditions and the odd visit by escorting dolphins – nice! Great to see Ned representing the Fat Paddlers up in that part of the world – cheers, FP.

Ned representing Team Fat Paddler at PaddleFest

Sydney Harbour Kayaks getting behind TFP and Kayak for Kids

A big thanks to Shannon and the crew at Sydney Harbour Kayaks who are getting behind the Team Fat Paddler efforts for Kayak for Kids with their own promotion. For every Epsilon P300/C300 sold between now and 28 March 2010 they’ll donate $50 to our fund-raising efforts. And just to sweeten the deal, they’ve knocked $500 off the price.

Apart from the kind donation aspect, it’s no surprise that I’m a big fan of the newly designed Epsilon range by Boréal Design. If you read my earlier Epsilon review you can see I think it’s a well designed and fun boat.  I certainly wouldn’t be upset if one my readers wanted to buy me one – haha!

So if you’re in the market for a new kayak, get yourself down to Sydney Harbour Kayaks and grab a free test paddle. I can confidently say you wont be disappointed, and you’ll also be helping out the Kayak for Kids cause at the same time. Cheers! – FP

FP with a Mitchell Greenland Paddle. On rescue duty!

What do you do as a team builder for 30 marketing staff in a glorious city like Sydney? There’s a whole range of fun things to do, but this time around we convinced the HotelClub decision-makers that kayaking on Sydney Harbour would be a winning option, and after a 2 hour marketing workshop, we all head off for Rose Bay.

Kayaks, the Sydney skyline, and a landing sea-plane!

Of course there are TWO places to rent a kayak in Rose Bay, and all 30 of us caught cabs to the wrong place and then had to walk a bloody kilometre or so to the right place, all during a humid 30-odd degree day. But once there, we threw our swimmers on and dragged the hire kayaks into the bay.

A paddler, a Sydney Ferry, a lighthouse and a naval ship!

As luck would have it the weather gods had calmed the Harbour to the glassiest level I’d seen for some time, with the only wave hazard being from passing fishing and cruising boats. Of course one such wake washed one of the paddlers overboard and I had to circle around to help get the paddler back into his boat, but otherwise there were no other accidents and everyone made it out to Shark Island for a swim with a great view of the Sydney skyline.

Meli enjoying a swim off Shark Island

Next we circled around the island and head off for a beach on the western side of Rose Bay, where we were able to have another swim and a quick regroup before the final paddle for home. At this point we split up some of the slower double kayaks and a couple of stronger paddlers (myself included) helped some of the novices to paddle back.

The next beach stop on the west side of Rose Bay

Not a bad view from this beach. Not a bad skyline either - haha!

Once back we did what any Aussie would do after a bit of exercise – we hit the pub! So we all bundled off into cabs and buses before easing into a few beers at our local beer garden, all under the watchful gaze of a local Magpie. A great corporate team builder, I can’t recommend it enough – cheers, FP.

The watchful gaze of a local Magpie

Final Word: it would be remiss of me not to mention that HotelClub has a great range of Sydney hotels at excellent rates, or in most cities globally for that matter! 

Sunset over lakeside camp spot, Myall Lakes (Image credit: Owen Walton)

I recently invited members of the Fat Paddler Facebook Page to upload photos of their favourite paddle spots. As you may know, I have recently had urges to get out kayak camping, and have been looking at the Central Coast of NSW as a likely spot to start. Then today the above image was posted by fellow GP paddler Owen, a kayaking character whose path I’ve crossed a few times,  and member of the Hunter Kayak Klan. Apart from the immediately breath-taking beauty of the shot, it was taken on the Myall Lakes, the very spot I’ve been considering for my next camping trip.

A very Aussie picture, Myall Lake by day (Image credit: Owen Walton)

Not much more to say other than that I’m JEOLOUS AS HELL!! Thanks for sharing Owen, hopefully I might see you out there sometime soon.  Cheers, FP.