No paddle mates means self-portraits!

ANZAC Day, an Aussie/Kiwi institution. The Dawn Service, the March, the beer and two-up, for many antipodeans it is the most important day of the year. The day after ANZAC Day is also important, because it’s the biggest hangover of the year.

So on this post-ANZAC Day, the Fat Paddler was trying to rouse up some kayak mates to hit the water early, since a Weather Warning had come in detailing 40 knot winds and gale-force gusts across Sydney later in the day. But no-one would respond, and yours truly was left without any kayak  mates at all. With such a weather warning a smart paddler would stay home and watch DVDs, but facing two weeks without getting wet seemed too harsh to contemplate.

So kayak on the car and off to explore new (and hopefully protected) waters, with the Lane Cove River as the target destination.

Lane Cove National Park, beautiful Aussie bushland

And what a great paddle it is, long stretches of bush and mangrove swamp and the odd fish skipping across the waters.

That is of course until the previous warning comes true and strong gusty winds hit your kayak! Whilst trying to enjoy the expensive waterfront houses of Hunters Hill (and about 7km into the paddle) I got hit with 40 knot head winds and 2-3 foot chop, which my kayak enjoyed cutting through allowing water to slosh straight into the boat. For 20 minutes I fought the wind, desperately trying to keep some forward momentum in the face of wild swirling winds.

Uh-oh, is that the wind picking up??

And then just when I thought my kayak was close to overloading with water, the wind died away! The nearest landable beach was a sandbar in the middle of the river. Perfect for tipping unwanted water out of the kayak, taking photos and having a much needed rest.

Pitstop - sandbar, middle of Lane Cove River

So with only 6km to go, and with the kayak empty (so I don’t feel like I’m sitting in a bath), I head off back up the river, amazed at the now calm conditions and glassy glimmering waters.

Sunshine - nice!

Of course the wind came back a few times, and I had a few hard struggles into the headwind, but I managed to get back to Fullers Bridge (kayak entry/exit point) without too much trouble.

Yes I was wet, yes I was exhausted. But the blowy paddle was indeed better than no paddle at all.  Bring on the Hawkesbury Classic! 

The Fat Paddler, training hard for the Hawkesbury Classic!

Tags: Lane Cove River, weather warning, wind

Fat Paddler's first kayak session (centre, red/yellow yak)

“Mate, you look a bit big for that kayak”

“It’s rated for over 150kgs, I should be right”

“150kgs! What, as a submarine??”

This was the start of a somewhat embarrassing exchange that occured during my first kayak session.  You see, at this point I’d fallen off my kayak several times and was lying like a beached whale on top of it hoping to get my breath back. The conversation was with a kayak passer-by who had stopped to help me.

On one hand I was somewhat relieved that there would be a witness to my likely drowning. On the other hand, the wise cracking old kayaker was somewhat getting on my nerves. Still, the fact was I really DID need rescuing, and I somewhat begrudgingly accepted his offer of a tow back.

Now picture the scene – Fat Paddler lying prone on his kayak, one hand reaching out and holding the back of another man’s kayak, whilst he struggled to paddle both himself, and my somewhat enormous dead weight, back to the The Spit. As if this isn’t embarrassing enough, he continues with:

“Mate, it would be easier to stay on if you lost a little weight”

“That’s why I bought the bloody kayak” I spat back between gritted teeth.

Anyway, as luck would have it, this bloke turned out to be a doctor. And not just any doctor, but a doctor that specialised in weight loss. Surgical weight loss! And his message was clear – eat right, get some exercise, and don’t let me bloody see you near my surgery, because surgical weight loss is a horrible, horrible thing.

He then went on to suggest I get to the chemist and start on the Tony Ferguson Diet, a diet used by fatties looking to lose some weight really quickly before he gives them a stomach band. You know the ones – no carbs, no dairy, no bloody fun. Well, there goes the last few morsels of my dignity (or so I thought).

Because at this point we reached a little  beach just before The Spit where he prompted me to let go. Right in front of a bemused old couple fishing from deck-chairs, barely containing their giggles at my less than elegant arrival on their beach.

What, haven’t you guys heard of the Fat Paddler?? I think I can still hear them laughing…..

Beautiful Sydney Harbour.... nothing to do with this post!

Today I went to the gym for my first session with personal trainer, “Dirk”. Now Dirk is not a small man, in fact he is quite a large man, who lists Body Building & Wing Chun as his specialties. He is also South African. Did I mention large?

Now Dirk is a lovely bloke, very knowledgable on fitness/nutrition, and was very thorough when running through my very long list of previous injuries.  So friendly that this “pre-workout” session lulled me into a very, VERY false sense of security.

You see, once he started on me, he developed a sly smile as my body slowly realised it was being run over by a tank (felt like it at any rate!). As my horror at what I had embarked on became increasingly obvious, so too did his smile and drive to break me. And break me he did, in no uncertain terms.

Needless to say I’m limping about like I’ve just spent all day riding a horse for the first time. I feel like someone has stabbed me between the shoulder blades. And my legs are virtually incapable of bearing my weight.

So thanks alot Dirk, for crippling me today! There’s really nothing wrong with staying the Fat Paddler a bit longer, is there??

(Dirk, if you’re reading this, it was meant as a joke because I would never say anything about you behind your back – please dont hurt me!)

Glassy perfection on Avoca Lake, looking towards Avoca Beach

I really can’t stop raving about this place. The whole lagoon system is about 6.5km to do a lap, so pretty small in the grand scheme of things, but every part of the lagoon system is different. Look at the glassy expanse of the main lagoon area (above), now checkout the tree’d wetland area of the harder-to-find north west lagoon (below).

Paddling through the trees at Lake Avoca

And then just to be different, the lagoon stretches right up to Avoca Beach itself, with just a sand-bank separating the lake from the sea (below).

Avoca Beach, just over the sand ahead

All in all I just love this area. An interesting paddle amongst the pelicans and herons, skipping fish jumping out the water all around you, and the friendly faces of locals also out enjoying a paddle. If you get the chance to visit, get out there!

Tags: avoca, avoca beach, avoca lake, gosford, nsw central coast, paddle

Rich and his kevlar Mirage 530. Nice boat....

This is embarrassing. But I’m damn jeolous of paddling partner Rich’s Mirage 530.  On one hand I laugh watching him squeezing his legs through its keyhole opening. But otherwise I’m just plain jeolous!

That damn Mirage again.....

There’s just so much to like about this boat. The smooth lines, the in-line rudder, the electric pump (really jeolous of this feature), the handy glovebox, the good storage options. And there’s the low weight and speed, which really make me envious.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very happy with my plastic fantastic (Cobra Expedition), and the 530 frankly is too small for a big fella like me, but still… I want it!

Tags: cobra expedition, mirage, mirage 530, mirage 580