Two very different paddle craft sharing the water - Valley Aquanaut and SUP

One of the great aspects of paddling is all the different flavours that are available. White water, flat water, ocean paddling, ski paddling, Greenland paddling, kayak polo, canoeing and of course the Stand Up Paddle (SUP) to name but a few. And there’s no reason why you can’t mix up the paddling types when you share the water, other than the obvious challenges of differential speed.

I was keen on an early paddle and invited SUP afficionado Rand to join me at the unreasonable put in time of 5.30am. He’d mentioned that he was considering doing the Hawkesbury Canoe Classic 111km paddle marathon on his SUP and needed training, so what better than pushing off into the dark for a paddle up Middle Harbour?

As I waited for him to get ready, I wandered around the shallows of The Spit with my torch looking for Ouchie. He was nowhere to be seen, but I did count several hand-sized baby stingrays in the area instead, sitting on the bottom like perfect miniatures of their bigger full-grown cousins. They were like little toys lined up in the water – my girls would have loved them!

FP lazily slip-streaming Rand on his SUP - haha!

Finally, and despite Rand’s nerves at pushing off into the dark, we set off north heading for the Roseville Bridge. He soon settled into the pace and enjoyed the lights on the water as very gradually the sky turned from black to a gentle grey glow. His fears now gone, we chatted away as the kilometres slipped behind us and we found ourselves at the Roseville boat-ramp.

Turning around, we paddled back to Flat Rock Beach where we strategically placed ourselves ready to catch The Coffee Boat on it’s trip to Bantry Bay. With Rand unable to stop his SUP, he paddled in circles until eventually he decided to head into the beach to wait for his coffee.

A lone SUP heading into Flat Rock Beach

The important arrival of The Coffee Boat

Within minutes Garry arrived in his little golden tug and brewed up a couple of fresh capuccinos for us, before chugging off into the distance. I paddled in and delivered the coffees to the beach where we enjoying the early morning light over our hot buckets of caffeine.

Setting off again, we paddled barely a kilometre when we came across a funny sight. Up ahead an outrigger canoe had also flagged down the Coffee Boat, with Garry furiously making coffees for the whole crew.

Hello, what have we got here then?

The girls from Yukon Buddies keeping Garry very busy

Rand and I pulled up for a chat and were amazed to hear that this crew of lady dragon-boat paddlers, know as the Yukon Buddies, were training to do the Yukon River Quest, a 746km paddle down the Yukon River in Canada that will take them around 65hours to complete! Just the week before they’d done the 111km Hawkesbury Classic course as training and were on track for their mammoth paddle task ahead.

After saying goodbye and wishing the girls good luck, we paddled back to the The Spit just as the weather cracked open with a deluge of rain. We packed our gear into our respective cars and then went our separate ways, smiling after our fun morning’s paddle with our two radically different craft.

Lastly, recently I made a donation to the Bridge City Paddling Club from Portland, Oregon (USA) who are doing a 12hour paddle to raise money for the Blue Planet Run Foundation, a non-profit that is working to ensure that safe drinking water is available to those in the world that need it. For my donation I also received a tshirt, which I promised I’d get a photo of here in Oz. So to all the dragon-boat paddlers from Bridge City, here it is. Cheers! – FP

FP meets the Bridge City Paddling Club at Sydney Harbour Kayaks

The beginning - a fat bloke with his first kayak

This time a year ago the FatPaddler.com website was launched. It’s initial goal was to document my personal journey to the Hawkesbury Classic, but quickly became a much greater adventure than I had anticipated. In the 12 months since the site was born, I’ve completed three different marathon races, paddled with icebergs and whales in Alaska, learnt to roll (well, kind of), discovered Greenland paddles and paddled all over the waterways of Sydney.

By far the best aspect of my new passion for paddling however  is the friends I’ve made. The local paddlers I get out on the water with weekly, the distant Aussie paddlers I catch up with occassionally, the visiting paddlers that I take out when they arrive in Sydney, the international paddling community that rallies so well on the internet and of course all those that organise the events I’ve particpated in. And of course, all the beginner paddlers I take out, who inevitably want to keep going!

So as I celebrate this first year, I’d like to raise a glass to all the wonderful people I’ve been lucky enough to interact with during my paddling adventures. A better group of people you could not ask for. Cheers! – FP

The first paddle (FP in orange/yellow). 30mins of paddling, 3 hrs of swimming!

Discovering the Coffee Boat

Extending the paddles away from the Harbour. Berowra Waters dawn.

Kayak upgrade - a composite BD Nanook for the Hawkesbury Classic

Sea Kayak course with Old Salty. Strokes, exits, safety and rescues.

USA work trip, ending with a paddling trip in the Alaskan wilderness.

Panasonic photography competition. FP heavily featured.

At last! My first Greenland style paddle!

FP finishes the Haweksbury Classic, a 111km night-time marathon.

Team Fat Paddler awarded Landcrew Award for the 2009 Hawkesbury Classic.

FP in his Valley Aquanaut, a more skill-oriented boat!

Learning to Roll

New custom-made high-strength Greenland paddles (thanks Adanac)

FP & Timbo, having just finished the Bridge to Beach.

Team Fat Paddler at the end of the Lifetsart Kayak for Kids

A Canoe for the kids!

2/3s of Team Fat Paddler with the Teabag Trophy

Last night the Hawkesbury Canoe Classic held their 2009 Presentation Dinner, which Team Fat Paddler and their poor suffering wives attended in the hope of winning something (we certainly weren’t in the running for a “Best Time” award, that’s for sure!).  And indeed it wasn’t long until the organisers were reading a long speach regarding nominations for the Landcrew Award and I started to realise by omission that either my Nomination for them had not been received, or they were actually in with a chance to take it out. And sure enough, there were awarded the 2009 Landcrew Award (the perpetual Teabag Trophy) to a standing ovation at the ceremony.

Teabag Trophy and Certificate for Darry (sic), in absentia for the ceremony

The HCC is a massive and gruelling event that would not be at all possible without the sterling efforts of those on the ground in support. To Burnsie, Grummett and Darryl – a huge thanks from me for your awesome efforts to keep me going down that dark, cold river. Cheers – FP

Boat 107 - seems so easy at this point!

As much as the HCC turned into a gruelling night of sleep deprivation and pain, for many it’s a paddling festival of colour and fun. My land crew (Team Fat Paddler) seemed to be having more fun than most of course, doing us all proud. Here are a few more pics of the colours of the Hawkesbury Classic.

Colourful paddlers! Ned and FP

Landcrewing is incredibly serious business...

It's all Go! Go! Go! when you're on landcrew duty!

Night colours!

Fat Paddler's own shade girl. Where are my skinned grapes?

You can even paddle in colour

Final thoughts: "Clean sheets and soft pillows soon...."

When you kayak a long distance on your own, you inevitably have meandering thoughts about many things ranging from current muscular pain to family to why your bow wake is glowing like fluoro ribbons in the dark. On my recent paddle as the night grew late and I found myself paddling in the dark alone and in considerable pain, my thoughts grew crazier and a little scattery as the night progressed. Of course these were fed by some of the amazing things I saw during the night, such as the aforementioned luminescent algae creating glowing lines in my bow wake, or exploding in fluoro clouds as my paddle bit into the water. Or the sight of a paddler catching a ferry cable around the neck in the dark due to paddling too close to the shore. Or the vision of billions of stars stretched out like a milky ribbon across the sky in a display seldom seen in the light-sodden skies above Sydney.

The final light of Saturday - only 90kms to go! Bummer...

So what did I think about during the more painful hours of my paddle? I thought alot about my family: my wife Bec and my two daughters Grace and Ella. I thought about my last car accident, and the pain I went through learning to walk again with a shattered pelvis. I thought about sharks occassionally, and the unlikelihood of there being any this far up the river. I thought alot about my support crew, actually worried about them and their safety driving through the night (had I known how much fun they were having I may not have had these particular thoughts!).

Best chicken noodle soup I've EVER had! 83km to go...

I thought about my paddle mate Ned, who had pulled out at the 30km mark with a raging nauseating migraine, and hoped he was feeling better. I thought about cutting my pants off with scissors to try to alleviate some of the pressure sores that were developing (it wouldn’t have helped). I thought about my Greenland Paddle and how lucky I was to have a paddle that could do different strokes, resting muscle groups when they badly needed it. I thought my future kayak adventures, and what I should aim to do next.

A mixture of pain and relief at the end of the 111km

There were many dark thoughts too. I thought on a couple of occassions about pulling over to the side of the river and sleeping for the rest of the night until a rescue boat found me. I thought about simply pulling in at the next checkpoint and refusing to paddle anymore. I thought about taking all my remaining pain killers at once (I had taken a couple and had half a dozen left) to cut down on the pain. And on the odd occassion, I seriously thought about stopping and crying.

Finished - woohoo!

When I look back at the event now, I realise it is this level of hardship that really allows you to test your mental resolve. I honestly felt mentally weak on quite a few occassions out there in the dark, and yet somehow I managed to keep putting the paddle in the water enough to get me to the end (unlike many who pulled out). Whilst I’m in no real hurry to do something like this again any time soon, I can see why people become addicted to this type of pursuit. So if you are about to embark on a big and gruelling adventure, I’d like to send you my heartfelt wishes for your success.