The Paddler Autumn/Fall issue 2017

ADDLER
ezine
The International magazine for recreational paddlers
Issue 38 Autumn/Fall 2017
World Surf
KAYAK
Championships
WW kayak to
WW SUP
Joe Thwaites
WW on the
TSARAP
Ian Jones
Adidas
SICKLINE
Steffan Meyric Hughes
Corran Addison
LONGBOAT
Revolution

CONTENTS
Skittles kayakers by Paul Ramsdale
Editor
Peter Tranter
peter@thepaddlerezine.com
Tel: (01480) 465081
Mob: 07411 005824
www.thepaddlerezine.com
Advertising sales
Anne Egan
Tel: (01480) 465081
advertising@thepaddlerezine.com
Covers
Kayak:
Salty:
Canoe:
World Surf Kayak Champs by Mark Boyd
Big Sur by Roger Aguirre Smith
Ashley Kenlock by Richard Harpham
Thank you to: Pete Astles, Ashley Hunter, Nicola Taggart, Mark Boyd, Mick Feeney, Steve Childs,
Steve Bruno, Hap Wilson, Ashley Kenlock, C. Waldegger, D. Benedetto, J. Klatt, Olaf Obsommer,
George Younger, Anuj Kumar, Christine Pinsonneault, Damien Larrigaudiere, Jacob Seigel, Pat Keller,
Yannick Larouche and Allistair Swinsco for all your help in putting this issue together.
Not all contributors are professional writers and photographers, so don’t be put off writing because you have no experience! The Paddler ezine is all about paddler to paddler dialogue: a paddler’s magazine written by paddlers.
Next issue is Winter 2017 with a deadline of submissions on Nov 30th.Technical Information: Contributions preferably as a Microsoft Word file with 1200-2000 words, emailed to
submissions@thepaddler.ezine.com. Images should be hi-resolution and emailed with the Word file or if preferred, a Dropbox folder will be created for you. The Paddler ezine encourages contributions of any nature but
reserves the right to edit to the space available. Opinions expressed in this magazine are not necessarily those of the publishing parent company, 2b Graphic Design Limited. The publishing of an advertisement in the Paddler
ezine does not necessarily mean that the parent company, 2b Graphic Design Limited, endorse the company, item or service advertised. All material in the Paddler ezine is strictly copyright and all rights are reserved.
Reproduction without prior permission from the editor is forbidden.

Issue 38
Autumn/Fall 2017
004 Northern Ireland
World Surf Kayak Championships by Angela Hunter
014 Northern Ireland
A US viewpoint of the event by Roger Aguirre Smith
022 Testing, testing & new kit
Plenty of kit reviewed by our contributors
036 England
The Grand Tour of Cornwall by Liz Garnett
048 United States
Surfing to Big Sur by Roger Aguirre Smith
058 India (part 2)
The west coast of India by Kaustubh Khade
074 Scotland (part 2)
Rannoch Moor to Perth by Angela Ward & Adam Evans
084 Sweden/Norway
Scandinavian canoe expedition by Mal Grey
098 Canada
Muskoka River X race by Richard Harpham
106 Canada
Temagami wilderness by Richard Harpham
116 Scotland
Richard Harpham continues his Scottish explorations
122 Austria
Adidas Sickline and history by Steffan Meyric Hughes
136 India
The Tsarap River by Ian Jones
146 Longboat revolution
Corran Addison discusses the longboat’s return
156 England
WW kayak to WW SUP by Joe Thwaites & Sam Ellis
164 England
The Big Ben SUP Challenge by Paul Hyman
ThePADDLER 3

ThePADDLER 4
W O R L D S U R F
KAYAK
C H A M P I O N S H I P S
Riding high
on success
Story: Angela Hunter, Nicola Taggart
Photos: Mark Boyd, Mick Feeney, Roger Aguirre Smith
October saw one of the
most spectacular World Surf
Kayaking Championships ever held in
the competition’s history which spans over
20 years. Over 130 competitors from 15
countries across the globe took to the magnificent waves
of the Atlantic Ocean at Portrush in Northern Ireland – and conditions,
camaraderie and competitors did not disappoint.
This was the first time the competition, which ran from Friday 21st to Thursday 26th October, has been
held in Northern Ireland with over 70 friends, family and supporters attending and joining in the
spectacle. In the wake of Hurricane Ophelia, the surf at both the East and West Strand beaches in
Portrush, was offering splendid conditions at the start of the week for teams and individuals from as far
away as the US, Argentina and Australia, to compete and showcase their impressive world-class,
professional moves. As the week progressed, the winds died down, as did the waves, but they stayed
long enough to deliver just what was needed for an awesome competition.
The event was organised by the Canoe Association of Northern Ireland with a team of 35 staff and
volunteers, from all over the world, which saw twelve months of planning for five gruelling days of
competition on the Atlantic Ocean. Special recognition goes to these people who gave up their time so
gladly and without whom, the event could not have taken place.

ThePADDLER 5
Darren Bason

ThePADDLER 6
The event was organised by the Canoe A
Meabh Lynch
Liam Thierens

ssociation of Northern Ireland with a team
of 35 staff and volunteers, from all over the world,
which saw twelve months of planning for five
gruelling days of competition on the Atlantic
Ocean. Special recognition goes to these people
who gave up their time so gladly and without
whom, the event could not have taken place.
Many competitors and their families stayed for two
weeks or more in the picturesque seaside town,
helping boost tourism and the local economy.
The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI)
played a central role in the event – providing
world-class safety cover without which the event
could not have taken place. On the first day of
the competition during challenging conditions,
they rescued 12 people in the first few hours.
Competitor safety is paramount in our sport.
In addition, there were many supporters and
sponsors without which the event wouldn’t have
had the same level of excellence. Special thanks
goes to the title sponsor, the Causeway Coast
and Glens Borough Council with many other local
and national supporters – we would like to thank
them all for the valuable role they played in this
world-class event.
The competition
The competition saw a number of team and
individual categories from Junior, Master, Grand
Masters, Ladies and Open – in two different
classes – High Performance (HP) and International
Class (IC) with 135 competitors in total
from 15 countries taking part over a five day stretch.
Odei Etxeberria
Paul Robertson
ThePADDLER 7

ThePADDLER 8
Nine teams battled it out for the number
one world ranking, with Team Basque taking
home the world championship. The Ulster team
took home an impressive fifth place over all.
The Individual competitors kicked off proceedings,
which was followed by the first round of the team
event. This was followed by a second round of the
individuals and team once again.
The event was very lucky to have waves for five
consecutive days. Conditions were varied, from
the very big on the first day, to smaller during
the week but they then built up again for the
team finals. So, competitors got to show off their
skill set on a range of conditions.
Ulster’s 19 year-old, Meabh Lynch took to the
podium to scoop the fourth position in the
Sofia Lazarescu
James O’Donnell
Jim Grossman

Junior HP Classes. She was also a semi-finalist in
the Ladies International Class and High
Performance and a quarter finalist in the Junior
IC alongside Ulster’s Andrew Lamont and Emil
Lazarescu. This is a great result for the young
Ulster competitors.
IC Classes
1. Junior
O BRIEN, Jamie
CRUJEIRAS BELLO, Hodei
DAVIES, Jack
ROSSITER, Nathan
IRE
EUS
ENG
ENG
HP Classes
6. Junior
CRUJEIRAS BELLO, Hodei
DAVIES, Jack
O BRIEN, Jamie
LYNCH, Meabh
EUS
ENG
IRE
ULS
2. Masters
BASON, Darren
ETXEBERRIA, Edu
ROBERTSON, Paul
ARKISON, Ewen
AUS
EUS
ENG
WAL
7. Masters
BASON, Darren
ETXEBERRIA, Edu
ROBERTSON, Paul
TETZSCHNER, David
AUS
EUS
ENG
DEN
3. Grand Masters
GROSSMAN, Jim
ADCOCK, Gary
ABANDO, LUIS ALBERTO
CRANDALL, Dan
USA
ENG
EUS
USA
8. Grand Masters
OLIVERAS, Adrián
CARRETO, Txema
YOUNG, Richard
INGLIS, John
ARG
EUS
SCO
SCO
4. Ladies
GREEN, Tamsin
IBARBURU ALTUNA, Enara
GARMENDIA, Olatz
GRIFFIN, Aisling
ENG
EUS
EUS
IRE
9. Ladies
TOLOSA INDA, Ainhoa EUS
BORDAGARAY MARTIJA, Irati EUS
ROGERSON, Teresa USA
MCQUEEN JONES, Lucy ENG
5. Open
BASON, Darren
THOMAS, Tim
ETXEBERRIA, Odei
BOYD, Zackary
AUS
WAL
EUS
USA
10. Open
ARROUAYS, Pablo
ETXEBERRIA, Odei
OLANO, Xabi
MARTIN, Gorka
FRA
EUS
EUS
EUS
Team World Champion
EUSKADI (BASQUE)
2nd ENGLAND
3rd WALES
4th IRELAND
5th ULSTER
6th
7th
8th
9th
ES WEST
SCOTLAND
DENMARK
BRITISH ISLANDS
ThePADDLER 9

ThePADDLER 10
Summary of proceedings:
Hodei Crujeiras
Opening day: Friday 21st October
The social side of the event was on a par with
the exceptional skill and excitement being
displayed on the waves – with many life-long
friendships being made over the five days.
The event started by offering the competitors
and their friends and family as taste of unique
Northern Ireland culture.
The local Sea Scouts, part of the UK's oldest
nautical youth charity, started proceedings with a
‘bang’ by playing an opening drum serenade. This
was followed by the world famous Innova Irish
Dance company who treated everyone to a
wonderful performance of their signature dance
style with a twist. This was followed by an official
welcome to the event by the Mayor of the
Causeway Coast and Glens Borough Council,
which was followed by information regarding the
running and organisational elements of the
event.
Sunday 23rd October – saw the Magheraboy
Hotel host a Traditional Irish Ceili allowing
competitors to embrace the local Northern
Irish and Irish culture and get their bodies
moving to the unique music.
Tuesday 25th October – saw many
competitors alongside their family and friends
descend upon Kiwis Brew Bar in Portrush who
supplied Local craft beer by brewer Lacada and
provided complimentary food by Lynas Food
Outlet. This was followed by live music
with Young Ike. A fantastic night was had by all.
Thursday 27th October – saw a social
fundraiser for the RNLI at the Portrush Yacht Club.
Saturday 29th October – featured the
magnificent closing ceremony at the Giants
Causeway followed by music by 7.30pm. Mood
music on arrival by Les Magee and evening
entertainment by the Outlaws.
In summary:
Portrush provided a world-class location for
this World Championship. All competitors, their
families and friends had a phenomenal time,
with fantastic hospitality, team spirit and craic.

Tamsin Green
Tim Thomas
Jack Davies
Lucy McQueen Jones
Ewen Arkison
ThePADDLER 11

ThePADDLER 12
When it was time to bid each other farewell, it
was a sad time, with many not wanting to leave
their new life-long friends and team mates.
Ashley Hunter
Speaking about the event, Ashley Hunter, Chief
Officer, the Canoe Association of Northern
Ireland said, “I am delighted that the Canoe
Association of Northern Ireland was able to host the
World Surf Kayak Championships in Portrush,
Northern Ireland. The championships provided us with
a great opportunity to showcase one of the many fun
and dynamic disciplines of our sport.
“The event was a great success and for that I would
like to thank the event committee for their work in
the buildup, the event team who worked long hard
days to ensure it ran smoothly, and to those that
supported the event with sponsorship and services.
We hope that everyone enjoyed their time in
Northern Ireland and we look forward to welcoming
everyone back to our shores in the future. I would like
to thank everyone who had a part to play in the
success of the event”.
“Competitors and indeed the entire surf kayaking
community from across the world got to experience
some of the best waves we have seen on our own
shores – with spectator numbers reaching an alltime
high.
“I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate
all of the competitors and their families and support
network – so many of whom made the journey to get
here and make the event so memorable. And of
course, to the winners – congratulations and very well
done to you all – it was one heck of a competition,
and so tight in many cases – but those that came out
on top should be very proud.
“The Ulster team and the individual competitors did
really well and they should be proud of the results
achieved. The next worlds are in Peru where we hope
the team will build on the success and go the next
worlds increase the success.
“I would like to thank everyone who made the event
possible, the committee, event team, sponsors and
supporters. We brought the world’s best surf kayakers
to Portrush and provided a great event.”
Adrián Oliveras
Dylan Petherick
Zack Boyd
Further information and photographs visit www.surfchampionships.cani.org.uk
For further press information please contact:
Nicola Taggart on 07468 866808 or email Nicola@1visionpr.com or
Angela Hunter on 07970 294406 or email Angela@birdsongni.co.uk

ThePADDLER 14
THE RIDE
Story and Photos: Roger Aguirre Smith
3am: Could be jet lag, could be my normal early morning restlessness. I
sit in bed listening as the wind—finding its way through the smallest of
cracks in this building – whistles and rattles with a consistent and
pressured exhalation. I can make out the white outlines of wind waves
through the drops of water dripping down the window. Remnant tackle
blocks, manual cranes and cables surrounding this renovated salmon
fishery seem unfazed by the 60km wind. The Worlds begins in five hours
with a 4m/12-second period swell.

ThePADDLER 15

ThePADDLER 16
I invited myself.
A friend of mine, Mark Boyd, mentioned he was
travelling to Northern Ireland with his family and
friends for the World Surf Kayak Championships
to photograph his son Zack, who is competing
for the US West Coast team. Mark and I often
photograph kayak sports together closer to our
central California coast homes, so yes, I inserted
myself into his family as ‘visual and social
support’, for the US West Coast team. I hauled
thousands of dollars of photographic equipment,
paid for over-priced car rental insurance that
does not even cover tyres apparently and took
2.5 weeks off of work… to post 600px X 400px
photos to the team’s Facebook page. Yup…“Love
you guys!” Actually, logistics and pretence aside,
I m just along for the ride.
I’ve never visited Europe; never travelled beyond
North America; never paid a pound for anything;
never driven on the left side of the road
(unintentionally) or from the right side of a
vehicle nor had a blown tyre that I was unable to
fix on a late rainy night in a place that was 5,000
miles from familiarity, in a fog that only 24 hours
of airline travel can create. Welcome to the land
of wattle and daub.
Settling into my room in the converted fishery,
Mark s family catches me up on the travels and
travails of other US team mates. Among the
inventoried events of the past few days: A
hurricane of the likes not seen in 50 years;
unleaded gas instead of diesel in the tank kind of
thing; various flat tyres; a heart attack (two
actually) and a broken arm (Mark’s wife Barb).
This is just the US West Coast team. In fairness
Edu Etxeberria

Paul Robertson
Mark and I often photograph kayak sports together closer to our
central California coast homes, so yes, I inserted myself into his family as
‘visual and social support’,
for the US West Coast team
ThePADDLER 17

ThePADDLER 18
however, rumour has it that a paddler with the
Australian team had his boat fly off the roof of
his car only to be run over by his teammate.
“G’day Mate!”
These are just the known fodder for travelogues.
As I watch the parade of international teams
during the rainy opening ceremonies for the
Worlds, as they walk in colour, anthem and flags,
I wonder about each of these athletes and about
their families that travelled distances to support
the competition. What are their stories? What
did it take for them to get to this moment? What
obstacles challenged their best-laid plans? And
just how the hell do you get 60+ surf kayaks
from all over the world to the ‘Santa Cruz’ of the
Emerald Isle?
The truth is, I believe it comes down to seconds.
It comes down to ‘The Ride’; when the ‘how’ and
‘who’ and ‘what’ disappears into the fragrant
ocean mist, the coolness of the vast Atlantic blue
and green and the rush of spray and foam
running down the line. It is a singular focus: the
slight bend of the horizon, predicting the pocket,
the breath, the blade, the hips, the edge,
pressured feet, knees, rotation… it’s about that
singular moment of pure being where separation
ceases to exist.
Supporting these seconds of bliss, we are your
friends and family coming together from all over
the world. And for all of those moments of
seconds melded together each day for eight
days – we celebrate the ride together.
Roger Aguirre Smith
Roger has been a photographer and
writer for many years. His background is
in black and white fine art photography
using medium and large format cameras.
DSLRs are his new tools and he uses
them in places that really don’t play well
with electronics.
His work has been published in several
outdoor publications and books and can
be found at www.rasphotography.com.
When not behind a lens, he can be found ocean whitewater kayaking along
the central coast of California and points beyond. Roger can be reached at
shutter@rasphotography.com
A star of the future: 12-year old Victor Bezard

Changing the game.
Once again.
Ergonomic 3D design
Lightweight, 100gsm
Great moisture transport
CoolMax® Air performance bres
All sports, all weather garment
Excellent body temperature
management
RRP
£36.00
USE DISCOUNT CODE:
20discount
Off The Website
WWW.CRAFTSPORTSWEAR.CO.UK

ThePADDLER 20
Testing,
Kitvision Immerse 360
and Immerse 360 Duo
http://www.kitvision.co.uk
By Peter Tranter
The development of POV action cams has
come a long way in the last few years and
there’s now more choice than ever. Forget
the brand and think about what you want
from an action camera, how you plan to
use it and what you have to spend.
However, now there is another equation
to add to the mix: 360 degree capability.
The rules have changed and now anyone
can film a VR-ready video inexpensively.
Now you can look up the river, not just down it,
capturing not only what’s in front of you but also
those paddling behind you. The world of
Immersion 360 features:
Video resolutions (.MOV):
1920 x 1080 @ 30 fps / 1440 x 1080 @ 30fps
Photo image: 16 MP JPEG
Lens: F2.0, 360 degrees hori x 220 degrees vert
Video format: H.264 MOV
Included with the camera:
Bike mount
Adhesive mount
Waterproof case
Camera cradle
Camera silicone suction case
Action camera screw
Micro USB cable
User manual

testin
gThe Paddler ezine
test
station. If you want
your product
reviewed and it will be of
extreme sports, especially paddling, is one of the most
appealing arenas for 360-degree VR video.
interest
to paddlers - email us: reviews@thepaddlerezine.com
Paddler HQ have frequently tested Kitvision cameras and
we’ve always without exception found them to be excellent
value for money, producing very good results whilst being
reliable. The icing on the cake is always the huge amount of
accessories you receive with each purchase and this is no
different with the Immerse 360s – with one exception,
which we’ll come to later.
From the photos, you can see the obvious main difference
between the two cameras – one has a single lens and the
Duo has the two back to back lenses.
The original single lens 360 has been around for all of 2017
and sits on its back with the lens pointing to the sky. It has a
super-wide lens housed inside a small dome that gives the
camera a field of view of 220 degrees. Because the 360
Immerse action camera lens is located on top of the
camera, the lens captures the 360-degree peripheral
panoramic viewpoint of a dome.
The lens has the ability to see down 20 degrees on all sides
but that does leave 140 degrees of the environment out of
view, which sometimes leaves the constant feeling of having
to look up when viewing the finished results.
The other drawback when looking at the end result is the
quality of video. This isn’t a 4k camera, it records in 1080p.
This isn’t a problem in the usual fixed screen world as
nearly all the TVs that we own are now 1080p hi-definition
and the results are more than acceptable. However, in the
world of virtual reality where you’re looking at a 360
degree world, the results are closer to the old standard of
pre HD viewing - there are at times, just too few pixels to
spread around.
ThePADDLER 21

ThePADDLER 22
Having said that let’s come back to reality. As
mentioned, this camera has been around for a
year now and back then you would have shelled
out near £200, which even then was a bargain.
However, look around now and you can
purchase this camera for less than £100, which
considering all the accessories you get with it –
makes it an absolute steal and a fun device on
which to cut your VR teeth on.
As with all VR cameras, there is something to
bear in mind before you’re ready to view VR
material: it can be a long winded process to get
there. Firstly, you have to convert the 360
degree footage for that 360 experience using
software like SYMAX360 that can be
downloaded from http://symax360.com.
Open your video, select ‘high’ quality and wait for
the bar to hit 100% as it transforms your video.
You can then edit your video using standard
video edit software, however before you upload
to YouTube you have to run your video through
another process with a piece of software that
injects metadata to make sure you get the full
on 360 degree VR experience. It is free and can
be downloaded here:
https://github.com/google/spatialmedia/releases.
After that you’re ready to
upload and view your results.
The Immerse Duo
So the original 360 was released a year ago and
as mentioned, came with lots of goodies in the
box, one of which is a waterproof case, good for
a depth of 30 metres. Then Kitvision released the
Duo version of the Immerse earlier this year but
curiously without a waterproof case, which limits
its use. However, if you intend to stay clear of
white water, eskimo rolls, etc, I don’t see it as
presenting too much of a problem.
Indeed I would encourage the use of the 360
Duo on calm water as the VR experience is a
leap above the standard 360.
The Duo has two lenses front and back, which
gives you a full-on 360 degree video with no
blank areas.
Although still not 4k, the quality of the recorded
image on the Duo is undeniably a level above
that of the original single lens 360, with the extra
lens capturing a more immersive range of
footage - the advantage of the twin lens.
The Immerse 360 Duo comes with some great
accessories, three of which instantly catch the
eye: the flexible tripod, the wrist mounted
remote control and the cardboard VR headset
on which to view your footage.
The flexible tripod is really neat in the way you
can wrap its bendy legs around anything.
Combined with the wrist remote, it really comes
into its own. Wrap it around a branch
overlooking your favourite run, hit the remote
and off you go. There are no limits and stability
can only be a good thing where sometimes only
the slightest of camera wobble can induce a
feeling of sickness, especially in 360 degrees!
Another really good area for the tripod is to try
it with time lapse in mind – you’ll look very
professional.

PROUD PARTNERS:
t: +44 1629 732611 e: info@peakuk.com
w: www.peakuk.com
Paddler: Kerry Oldeld. River Derwent. Image: Pete Astles. Gear: Semi Long Jacket. River Vest PFD.

ThePADDLER 24
Both the Immerse 360 and the Duo use the
same combination of keys, either on the side or
in the case of the Duo, on the top. Press and
hold the Wi-Fi button to enter the menus and
use the red button to make a selection. Scrolling
through the menu is also done with the Wi-Fi
button by single presses.
You can control, capture, replay, and share your all
your footage with the compatible interactive apps
for both cameras. In the case of the single lens 360
download the ‘SYMAX360’ app and the Duo uses
the ‘SYVR360’ variant. The app gives you total
control of the camera in all modes. Be warned
though, when both these cameras have their Wi-Fi
enabled, it does reduce the battery life.
What more can we say. For me I would pay the
bit extra and go for the Duo - just incredible value
for money.
Immersion 360
Duo features:
Video Resolutions:
1920 x 960 @ 30fps
Photo image: 5MP
3008 x 1504
Lens: 360 x 220
degrees x2
Video format: .MOV
Included with the camera:
VR cardboard headset
Flexible tripod
USB charging cable
Screw (x2)
Camera clip mount
Adhesive mount
90° Adaptor
1/4 inch tripod screw adaptor
User manual
“
Downcreek’s paddles are ace! Big Dippers &
Curlew bent-shafts were used throughout our
circumnavigation. They were superb & never
missed a beat. Beautifully balanced, efficient
& lightweight, yet durable & powerful, they
are custom made & finely crafted by experts
for each individual’s needs.
”
Colin Skeath, Canoe Around Britain
Better paddles paddle better. With a Downcreek paddle you will feel the difference.
Handcrafted from premium materials, they are exceptional in form & function.
Ultimate customisation now available with Paddle Signing & RockGuard tip
upgrade options.
Also in our online store: Bespoke handmade paddle bags & canoe furnishings.
Visit us at www.downcreekpaddles.com and have us make the paddle of your dreams.
Check out our interview and review in past issues of the Paddler
Quote code “PADDLER” at checkout and get a free RockGuard tip upgrade worth £15

ThePADDLER 26
Standard Horizon HX870E Handheld DSC VHF
with GPS and Route Navigation
www.standardhorizon.co.uk
By Richard Harpham
We were pleased to receive the Horizon
Standard VHF Radio in our offices for
review as it feels rugged and well built
with a host of the latest features,
including SOS GPS Man overboard
button, Data download/upload functions
via USB and DSC (Digital Selective
Calling) using Maritime Mobile Service
Identity (MMSI) identification unique to
the ship or craft. VHF radio technology
has been advancing quickly with inbuilt
GPS positioning providing improved
rescue options.
The HX870E highlights the set’s EU
configuration, the mandatory ATIS (Automatic
Transmitter Identification System), which can be
activated via the front panel for use on the
inland waterways of Europe.
The size of the model means it fits neatly into
most expedition sized buoyancy aids (PFD). It
has a solid clip on the back of the model, which
can be removed as well as a lanyard fixing point
on the main body. These fixing points are critical
as sea kayakers as common equipment losses
result from wave action and stormy seas.
The unit includes a rechargeable battery and an
enhanced lithium battery from 1150mAh to a
powerful 1800mAh as well as a larger screen
from their previous models. You can also track
other HX870E users shown on a compass like
screen display showing the position of group
paddlers or a small flotilla. The unit is rated to
IPX8, about 1.5 m for 30 minutes.
The Stand Horizon HX 870E is a great value
addition to the market and a good option for
sea kayakers, kayak fishing groups from sit on
tops and general marine use.
Features
l Size: 2.46” x 5.57” x 1.77” (62.5 x 141.5 x
45mm) w/o antennae.
l Weight: 11.8oz (335gm) (Gross).
l Flash and float SOS feature.
l Person overboard soft key with GPS.
l GPS tracking and weigh points.
l CH16 short cut button.
l USB connection for data/laptop purposes.
l DSC (Digital Selective Calling) for
emergency with CH70.
l Simple menu scroll option.
Review
Value for money: 5
Features: 5
Weight/size: 4
Ease of use: 4
Prices from: £205

MORE THAN
JUST A
SPRAY TOP!
ROOSTER ® PROLITE AQUAFLEECE ®
Durable, soft, flexible and requires
no re-proofing to perform. With a
microfleece lining to keep you warm
and feeling snug and adjustable
neoprene waist and cuff seals for
added security. Available in unisex
and ladies fit across 5 colourways.
Complete the look with matching
accessories at www.roostersailing.com
visit us online at ROOSTERKIT.COM
or call 01243 389997

ThePADDLER 28
Silverbirch Rebel 11.3
www.silverbirchcanoes.com
The Silverbirch Rebel is a modern 11-foot
whitewater canoe, just as capable on big
volume grade 4 as it is efficient on shallow
braided streams and flat sections.
The Rebel has been designed to excel with a
wide variety of loads – making it ideal for use on
longer trips where you may not only have
significant gear to take, but a continually
lightening load as the trip goes on.
Silverbirch have worked hard to optimise the
secondary stability – this was important
feedback from the early prototypes, not in terms
of literal stability but in terms of the transition
from primary to secondary, and how clearly
defined the rail feels as a consequence. The
production Rebel 11 not only ‘sits’ naturally on
the rail, but has massively boosted secondary
stability making it an easy to paddle and
confidence inspiring canoe.
The Rebel is available in two
construction options:
Duratough: Silverbirch’s thickness optimised
material, which is ideal for all the abuse of
modern day creeking.
Duralite: Silverbirch’s innovative three layer
material, which is great for use on bigger volume
rivers where stiffness and weight are the primary
concerns.
The Rebel comes outfitted with the custom
Silverbirch bulkhead saddle made from 30kgm3
density minicell foam.
The saddle is fitted as standard with Yakima
footrests. At the request of their customers, the
footrests are now fixed to the saddle with
bonded 40mm polyethylene dowels to ensure
maximum durability.
A fitting kit including foam sidewalls, foam shims,
glue, sandpaper and a surf-form is supplied to
allow you to customise your boat to your needs,
the second it arrives.
Dimensions
Length: 3480 mm / 11’4”
Width: 686 mm / 27”
Depth: 440 mm / 17.25”
“Whether you are looking for more speed from your
OC1 or a natural transition from your traditional
canoe, the Rebel is the boat for you.”
James Dennis – Silverbirch canoes director
“This is a glorious boat! Silverbirch have really
outdone themselves. This boat will be at home on
any moving water, and won’t even be too
objectionable on the flats.”
Phillip Prince – Silverbirch ambassador and
test pilot
“The Rebel is fast, nimble, dry, and made of high
quality PE, so it can make those big water moves and
take a beating in the creeks!”
Jerrod Jones – Silverbirch ambassador and
test pilot

ULTRALIGHT KAYAKS
award winning design,
class leading construction.
W W W . T O O T E G A . C O M

ThePADDLER 30
MSR Elixr 2 tent
www.msrgear.com
By Richard Harpham
The MSR Elixr tent has ‘Tardis’ like
qualities for a small tent offering
reasonable sleeping quarters and kit
storage. Its geodetic design also means it
is perfect for pitching on different
surfaces including rock and harder
surfaces where pegs are less effective.
This style of ‘free standing’ tent is great for
canoe, SUP and sea kayak expeditions alike
where camp sites may be less available. All the
components have a high quality feel of
something that has been designed and
manufactured with loving care.
A quick glimpse at the instructions reveals that
the dome shape is established by positioning the
main linked (folding) poles on opposing arcs.
Quick clips and eyelets mean within a couple of
minutes your new home is pitched. The MSR
Elixr also comes with an optional base
groundsheet to improve insulation and reduce
damp from the ground.
Overall this tent is a gem offering a sturdy design
and ample space for two people with kit,
without sacrificing too much on heavy weight to
carry. It has two side entrances and two
porches for storage. You can pitch it fast and light
with the rainfly and base groundsheet reducing
the pack weight from 2.5Kg to 1.6kg. You can
also tie back the porches providing that
connection to nature we all seek.
This is our new favourite tent offering a fantastic
home from home when exploring by canoe,
kayak or SUP.
Features
l Two doors and two porches (unique in class)
l Internal loops and pockets for hanging kit
l Dual porch areas for stashing kit
l Geodetic ‘freestanding design’
l Internal base tent and separate flysheet (can
be pitched separately)
l Floor space 2.69 sq metres
l Porch (vestibule area) 1.63 sq metres
Review
Value for money 4
Space 5
Features 5
Weight 4
Comfort 5
Prices from £192

Osprey Aether AG
backpacking rucksack
https://www.ospreyeurope.com
By Richard Harpham
The Osprey Aether AG is a game changer
with levitating qualities magically
reducing the load by 20-30% with its Anti
Gravity Suspension System Getting to
paddling trips and remote destinations is
a key part of a paddlers life. I have learnt
on my many human powered expeditions
that nothing weighs anything but
everything weighs something.
This rucksack is a joy to use and makes travel
significantly easier and more manageable. Of
course most of us paddlers chose to embrace a
wide range of outdoor activities including
trekking and back packing so the rucksack wins
there too.
Back packs and rucksacks have remained constant
in design since the last big change when external
frames were integrated into internal designs. Or
so we thought! The Osprey Pack includes a new
waist belt anti gravity system, which is literally
figure hugging, providing a reassuring connection
between you and your pack.
We field tested the packs on our recent Ontario
Canadian Canoe Culture trip and returning
home I managed to carry 26Kg comfortably in
my 85-litre pack. (Warning: it is possible that
access to local maple syrup, Hap Wilson’s books
and other paddling items can make your pack
heavier that usual).
The pack includes front zips for ‘flat packing’ your Review
bag, plenty of fixings and a built in waterproof
cover. The pack comes with a medium and large
size option and a brilliant sizing app, to help
make sure you pick the size for you. The Osprey
Aether Pack is like a new friend you feel like you
have known for ever. You will wonder how you
ever survived without it.
Features
l Size: 85-litres
l Weight: 2.42 kg
l Sizing (medium & large) – use their sizing app
l Colours: green, blue and orange
l Large body of rucksack top and front J-zip
l Anti gravity 3D carrying system
l Precurved hip belt system
l Detachable pack lid
l Integral waterproof cover
Value for money 5
Space 5
Features 5
Weight 5
Comfort 5
RRP: £205 and worth
every penny
ThePADDLER 31

ThePADDLER 32
River Guide PFD
www.peakuk.com
Peak UK’s top whitewater PFD the
River Guide has been updated for 2018
but still keeps the original storage
features of a large front pocket (with
phone, sling and camera
compartments), twin karabiner pockets
and a knife pocket.
The unique integrated harness is now
adjustable so you can create the perfect length
for you with no cutting required. Integral
shoulder pads make boat carrying a much
more welcome prospect and the tough 600D
polyester/nylon shell and Gaia eco friendly
foam, will not let you down. A must for serious
whitewater nuts and coaches or guides
everywhere! The River Guide comes in S/M,
L/XL and XXL and will be available early in
2018.
RRP: £139
Colours: red/lime. Blue/lime
SealLine Discovery
Deck Dry Bag
www.seallinegear.com
By Richard Harpham
The SealLine Discovery Deck Dry Bag is a
simply brilliant design with its robust
material and multiple fixing points. It’s
perfect for day or expedition use on a
canoe, kayak or SUP, whether you are a
day tripper or instructor, or adventurer.
The dry bag comes in a choice of different
colours and we thoroughly tested them in
Scotland on the River Spey (including the
Washing Machine), wild camping on Scottish
lochs and in general use. The bags passed with
flying colours where we used them as DS
(Deep Sh*t) bags with essential kit as well as
camera and valuables.
We found them useful for portages, touring
and moving water alike, with full confidence
that our kit would remain dry.
Features
l 10, 20 or 30 litre capacity options
l Choice of colours blue, black, green
l Integral carrying handle
l Shoulder strap duffle design
l Easy stow design
l Purgeair
TM
valve
Paddler review
Value for money 5
Durability 5
Features 5
Look / Feel 5
Weight 5
RRP: From £17.95 for the 10-litre option and
£22.95 for the 20-litre option

www.celticpaddles.uk
DIRECTORY
Canadian Wilderness www.paddlersinn.ca
SEA
KAYAK
ADVENTURES
Explore Jersey
by sea kayak
C O U R S E S | S U R F S A F A R I S | E X P E D I T I O N S | R O L L I N G C L I N I C S
Guided tours, courses and
offshore trips. Open all year.
Sea kayaks and sit-on-tops available.
Call: +44 (0) 7797 853033
P l a s M e n a i , N a t i o n a l O u t d o o r C e n t r e , W a l e s
w w w . p l a s m e n a i . c o . u k | 0 3 0 0 3 0 0 3 1 1 3
To advertise email: ads@thepaddlerezine.com or call +44 (0)1480 465081 ThePADDLER 33

CONGRATULATIONS TRACI
MILES COMPLETED
ON HER WORLD RECORD ATTEMPT
SUPPORT TRACI
RPC3 will donate $25
for every paddle sold
Enter code TRACI at checkout
High Performance Carbon Fiber Paddles
THANKS FOR BELIEVING IN US!
Visit us at RPC3.com
Traci Lynn Martin

ThePADDLER 36
KERNOW
G R A N D T O U R

A trip around the pointy bit of England
By Liz Garnett
The clock was ticking and summer was just around the corner. An adventure
was on the cards. Where should we go? Brittany? Donegal? Orkney?
Hebrides? I would happily sea kayak in any of these locations but squeezing a
long drive and ferry crossing into a 13-day mutual holiday window was tricky.
The somewhat surprising choice was simple and local: Cornwall (or Kernow
to the Cornish). This might have been a cop-out except for two details:
1) the challenge was set as a navigation of the entire county’s coastline and
2) I’d never paddled in Cornwall.
All we needed was a bit of favourable weather and the 200-mile challenge
was achievable; I also needed to ignore my bad vibes about the approaching
summer’s weather. However, the metaphorical towel was thrown down:
Eurion created a logo and got us a sticker. Our holiday had officially become
an expedition and the four of us were ready for action!
ThePADDLER 37

ThePADDLER
Headwinds
Fast forward several months and I’m sleeping in a
car park at Bovisand, the most westerly bay in
South Devon. Plymouth and the start of Cornwall
proper, the River Tamar, is just a short hop across
the sound. Besides a brief midnight interlude of
teenagers thrashing mopeds, it was a remarkably
pleasant night’s sleep. I do love the romanticism of
an adventure in the making. We spent the morning
squeezing the mass of kit into our fleet of Cetus’
and then launched into a rather brisk NW
headwind. This was a weather pattern that we
struggled to break for many days.
The in-ya-face breeze kept us company through
days one and two. The first camp spot, on a cobble
berm at Seaton, blessed us with a driftwood fire
and the most stunning moon rise ever. The following
day we continued past Looe, cutting nicely through
the middle of a sailing race. A brief stop amongst
the tourists at Polperro reminded us that this was
prime summer season, a fact that’s easy to forget
when you are weaving amongst the rocks along the
coastline. But they were soon left behind as we
continued westwards, dipping into the bays to try
The first camp spot, on a cobble berm at Seaton,
blessed us with a driftwood fire
and the most stunning
moon rise ever
and avoid the worst of the wind, only to find
ourselves dodging day trippers, cruisers and fishing
boats at the entrance to Fowey.
We dropped into tourist mode once again at the
fantastically named Readymoney Cove. Sheltered
from the wind, this cove was in British
Summertime. Ice creams may have been purchased.
We soaked up the rays and waited… hoping that
the evening would bring a drop in the wind and
allow us an easy 8km paddle across St Austell Bay.
An uneventful crossing was highlighted by gannets
diving for their supper. The spectacular green
pyramidal cliffs of Penare Point welcomed us to the
west side of the bay. The temperature dropped
significantly as clouds covered the sun and we
paddled on into the evening.
We eventually landed sometime after 8pm on the
stunningly sandy Vault Beach. Our bodies had
found ‘kayaking mode’ but that doesn’t mean that
we weren’t properly knackered after 38km! A very
late dinner was not exactly enhanced by squillions
of sandhoppers trying to commit suicide in our
meal. A grim forecast for the next day meant an
early start, to try and avoid the worst of that
damn headwind…

ThePADDLER 39

ThePADDLER 40
Day three was a slog.
Four and a half hours of
interminable plodding. We snuck
past Dodman Head, hid behind
every possible rocky outcrop in
Veryan Bay, blessed the volunteer
toilet warden at Portholland and
then crawled around Nare Head,
saluting Gull Rock #1. There was a
definite sigh of relief when we gave
up and camped on a lovely grassy bank above
Pendower Beach, on the isolated Roseland Peninsula,
after a measly 16km. Tea drinking and blustery clothes
drying was the order of the afternoon, as three of us
looked on in bemusement as Eurion tried to organise
the most complex escape plan in the history of sea
kayaking. Against all the odds, he managed it and went
to London – for one day.
Dolphin and chips
Suitably recharged by café culture, we headed straight
across Mount’s Bay, a 21km short cut across the last
major bay in south Cornwall. Calm weather and
glassy seas were the perfect ingredients for being
caught in the middle of a dolphin dinner chase. Round
and round they went. Fins in the front, to the side, at
the rear. Amazing! And then it was time to settle in,
heads down and paddle. Porthleven, keep paddling.
Praa Sands, keep paddling. St Michael’s Mount, keep
paddling. A moored tanker, keep paddling!
The weather gradually deteriorated and four hours
later we flopped out in Mousehole harbour, a
picture postcard of charming cottages cupping an
army of fishing boats. Three words: no chip shop.
Chris cried. It was 7pm, a hugely long day that had
also encompassed rounding the Lizard, Britain’s
most southerly point. We plodded even further
south to Lamorna Cove, passing (what should be)
the namesake giant mouse sized caves. This epic
41km paddle had, however, landed us on Land’s End
peninsula, the most westerly point in Cornwall, and
indeed of England.

Monsoonal weather
Lamorna Café sells huge breakfasts and has
great cake. There’s a plentiful supply of tea too.
We watched the rain, checked forecasts,
perused the maps and debated. Was day six
good to go? Land’s End is exposed to the
Atlantic swell and the weather wasn’t ideal.
When the rain stopped at 15.00, we opted to
launch. The sea was lumpy and then got a bit
wilder. England’s most westerly point is,
apparently, epic in terms of scenery and jutting
outcrops. But the cloud was down and the sea
around Gwennap Head was a maelstrom of
confusion.
We snuck through relatively sheltered alleys
between mainland and zawns (deep and narrow
inlets). The arch of Enys Dodnan is truly epic in
stature and memorable in that it provided a
moment of calm water to pump out my
cockpit! Longships lighthouse was just visible,
until monsoonal rain arrived and coated the
surface of the sea with mini impact craters.
Laughably insane conditions! But this was a
turning point; we were officially heading north,
backtracking along the Cornwall peninsula.
The highs and the lows
After a brief stop at Sennen, we continued on
for a very late landing at Priest’s Cove, just shy
of Cape Cornwall. A steep slipway drops into
the sea, where local fishermen haul their catch
up to sheds enclosed within the cove’s rocky
arms. We perched our tents on a grassy slope
above the cove, overlooking Longships
lighthouse. This was our first western view and
allowed for a spectacular sunset. We ate dinner
in the dark, watching the repetitive five-second
flashes of light slip past, happy to be within the
grasp of this tiny cove.
A series of late landings and 06.00 starts
impaired my joy of the spectacular north coast
mining scenery that followed. The journey
north to St Ives (without any wives, sacks, cats
or kits) is a repetition of towering cliffs topped
by chimneys and derelict brick structures.
ThePADDLER 41

ThePADDLER 42
The morning shadow hid most of this coast’s
true glory but it still impressed. The sun was out
and the scenery was ticking boxes, but the long
days, late nights and early starts had finally caught
up with me by day seven. By the time we passed
an unbelievably packed Porthmeor beach at St
Ives, I was crawling along behind the others.
Officially broken! And then came the culture
shock – we landed amidst all the tourists in
Cornwall. St Ives was teeming with burnt Brits!
Despite having had limited company for a week,
we were still unabashed about spreading wet kit
in a 10m radius around us. We had reached
saturation point, quite literally, and were
desperate to dry our clothes. Bless the sun!
Suitably recharged by Spanish tortilla in St Ives,
the afternoon paddle saw the Cornish coast
completely change character. The tin mines were
replaced by a fascinating collection of stacked
sediments. Godrevy lighthouse has a secret
(you’ll have to go there to find out) and the seal
colony was surprisingly empty. However, the
rolling swell delivered us to the Samphire Islands.
We squeezed through the pair of islands, gawping
at the layers of mud and sandstone. The bizarrely
named Ralph’s Cupboard was next. We didn’t see
Ralph but his cupboard was an epic alcove in the
cliff. However, the sun was setting and Portreath
beckoned. A quick group discussion determined
that the camping opportunities looked limited and
so a frantic 4km dash to Porthtowan ensued, as
we tried to land before full dark. In the fading light,
we could see the white capped tops of the waves
that were rolling into the beach.
A surf landing in the dark? What fun! Mark went
first and was surfed wildly into the beach. He
imagined the rest of us were doomed. Amazingly
we all landed, much wetter than before, without
incident. Adrenaline and cold wet bodies fuelled a
crazed run up the beach, with the loaded boats.
Hard choices
In the darkness, we found a flat spot within the
dunes, right in the middle of Porthtowan. Not
exactly subtle, but needs must and we urgently
needed dry clothes and food. The forecast for
early day eight was OK, but deteriorated rapidly
as the wind piled into the coast. Options were
limited as we considered the exposed Atlantic
coast and the increasing surf. I certainly welcomed
the first opportunity for a day off and we spent
the day mending and drying kit. A bit of tin mine
tourism and more café time was a welcome
respite from the hours at sea. However the
forecast for the next four days varied from
unpleasant to awful to downright wild force 7 as
Hurricane Gert swirled across the Atlantic. A
difficult decision was approaching…

Mark took one for the team and went down to
the sea at 05.00 in the pouring rain. It was
possible to launch, but where would we head to?
We might get a few kilometres further north,
and find a place to land, but then what? We
certainly weren’t going to make the Devon
border in the few days that we had left. So we
called in quits, 220km into our journey around
Cornwall but still an annoying 115km to go. A
few good weather days would see us finished.
We left with the wild idea that August bank
holiday would deliver a balmy summer delight.
I’m sure Porthtowan were pleased to see the
pop-up village depart.
Counting our blessings
Unbelievably, eight days later, I was back in
Porthtowan, sleeping in yet another car park.
Mark and I had watched the intervening weather
Adrenaline and
cold wet bodies fuelled a crazed run up the beach,
with the loaded boats.
forecast with amazement. Three days of calm
winds and sunshine were beckoning; this trip
could be finished, albeit minus half the team. After
being driven to the beach and tipped into my
(now much lighter) kayak, we launched at 07.30.
As I slammed down off the back of the miniature
clean surf, it was a joy to be back on the sea. The
Devon border seemed to be achievable.
This stretch of coast is filled with appealing
gullies and I managed to persuade Mark that we
had time to explore a few. There is also the
delightful pair of islands called Man and his man,
and the less imaginative Gull Rock #4. We
watched the top of the Atlantic swell rolling into
Perranporth and Holywell. In the shelter of
Newquay harbour, we waited for the afternoon
tide and spotted the resident seals. It was quite
clear why they were resident: mackerel. They
were being fed from the tourist boats!
ThePADDLER 43

ThePADDLER 44
The afternoon was tranquil. The sun shone and
we made excellent time, the miles clocking up.
The disappointment was the craggy coast that
cried for exploration, slipping inexorably past
on our right. Trevose Head, and its lighthouse,
glowed in the evening sun and it was definitely
time to find a landing spot. We’d progressed
another 42km and were blessed with the most
incredible evening spent above the beach at
Harlyn. The sunset was wonderful and dawn,
simply stunning. The lavender and rose skies
suggested we were in for more cracking
weather.
Glassy seas
Another early launch into the glassy sea was
barely a hardship. Day nine just got better and
better. The unique outline of Pentire Head,
silhouetted in the morning sun, was more
reminiscent of a dragon’s scaly ruff. The
decision to continue around Port Isaac Bay
against the tide, turned out to be an excellent
one. The tide was unnoticeable set against the
fascination of this stretch of coast: caves, zawns,
islands. It’s all there. The bizarre right-angled
catacombs of Dennis Point fashioned the
strangest cliffs I’ve ever seen; how does the sea
repeatedly shape 90° bends? We rounded the
point and came face to face with the masses,
clustered on the rocks like oyster catchers,
waiting for the tide to expose Trebarwith
Strand. The kayaks slid onto our personal,
private beach, overshadowed by immense
cliffs; the kayaks tiny specs against the cliff’s
magnitude.
Lunch at Trebarwith was hardly a chore. The
sun beat down, the tide receded and the
shallow turquoise sea filled with happy people.
Eventually, our private beach joined with the
main strand and we waded
back to the kayaks. The
transparent, glittering water
allowed views right to its
sandy depths. Even Gull
Rock #5 didn’t disappoint.
It looked like a blancmange!
Suddenly, it felt like our final
destination was within our
grasp as we arrived in
North Cornwall proper.
Tintagel Island loomed on
the horizon. From the sea,
it seems separate from the
mainland and it is easier to

understand why
early Christians
chose this spot and
why the legend of
King Arthur swirls
around it. Our
seafaring forefathers
would have been
equally impressed.
We gazed up at the
sightseers and they
looked back down.
Continuing
northwards, we
weaved in and out
of rocky bays, arches
and islands. At low
tide the entrance to
Boscastle harbour is
a green forest of
kelp, their huge
fronds waving gently
underneath us. In
case of boredom,
waterfalls are
thrown into the
mix.
The grand finale was Seals Hole, a double cave
of epic magnitude. Kayaking inside the dark
bowels of the cliffs becomes increasingly
disturbing. The deeper you go, the darker it gets
and the more the cave continues. Finally the
light disappears and you are left alone; only the
sound of the waves exploding against the back
of the cave reassures you that there is actually
an end to the tunnel, somewhere far ahead.
Leaving the cave, the zigzags start: contorted
rocks in every direction. The chevron folding
accompanied us all the way to Hartland Quay.
ThePADDLER 45

ThePADDLER 46
They are relics of tectonic mountain building that
created the super continent Pangaea, a mere
300 million years ago. Given all this
entertainment, it’s not surprising that we
managed 49km that day. Landing through the
small surf at Widemouth allowed us a camp spot
on the dunes, watching the sun set into the sea.
We had to drag ourselves away to shuttle cars,
eventually falling into bed at midnight. It was a
surreal way to end a perfect day.
The grand finale
Knowing that we had a mere four hours of
paddling left, we enjoyed a late start, although
this meant paddling against the tide. The sea was
a mirror, another perfect weather day; an
extremely rare occurrence for a British bank
holiday. Our compasses resolutely pointed north.
Those zigs kept zagging as we followed fold after
fold along the cliffs. The dip became so steep on
occasion that the layers of rock were vertical
sheets, pushing out into the sea. Bude hardly
made a blip in their inexorable waves. Neither
did Marsland Mouth, but this tiny non-descript
bay halted our progress. We’d reached the
border! There were obligatory selfies and
congratulations. We’d paddled round Cornwall.
Yay! Unfortunately there was still another 8km
to Hartland Quay and the car. Our paddle
wasn’t over yet. Gull Rock #6 and #7 passed in
quick succession. More folds and rocky fingers
pointed west, fingers that had ripped holes in the
sides of a multitude of ships. This included
Johanna that was wrecked in 1982, on her way
to South Wales with a cargo of wheat. She
floundered within sight of Hartland lighthouse,
the headland known locally as ‘Sailor’s Grave’.
We beached at Hartland Quay and joined the
Devon holiday makers in the sea, finally able to
cool off. It was done. The Cornish coast, all
337km of it. During those ten long days we only
saw three other sea kayakers. Where are you all?
Why isn’t the Cornish coast in demand,
surrounded by our bobbing craft? There are so
many sections that I will be returning to, to
explore more fully; I deserve to give into my
curiosity. So do you!
Chris, Eurion, Mark and I would like to thank P&H Kayaks and Palm
Equipment for their support in completing this adventure.

PROUD PARTNERS:
t: +44 1629 732611 e: info@peakuk.com w: www.peakuk.com
Paddler: Doug Copper. Greenland. Image: Pete Astles. Gear: Adventure Single Jacket. Explorer Zip PFD.

ThePADDLER 48
S U R F I N G T O
BIGSUR

Story and photos: Roger Aguirre Smith
We’re almost clear of the final land mass jutting out into the Pacific; a bluff
extending out from the base of Whale Peak. Our eyes have been on
Soberanes Point for hours now. Six hours ago, under starry skies, we left our
sheltered camp and began the paddle north. Now with only three miles to go,
the wind is nuclear, every stroke is like pulling taffy, muscles beyond cramped,
mush-mind has replaced any logical thought, wind pressures against our chests,
our paddles flick in the wind. We round the point a quarter mile off the
coastline and into chaos and the intensity of deterioration. The hardest part is
yet to come.
It was my idea to make the trip knowing the conditions might
not be good. The small craft advisory should have been a red
flag but it wasn’t. I’ve pulled the plug on trips with similar
warnings before only to see little texture on the water. I was
wrong, I should have known the winds would be apocalyptic
south of Carmel despite the contrary forecasts.
I sent out an email to 20 of my fellow kayakers, “The Big Sur
weekend paddle is on. Thirty-eight miles round-trip with ninja camping
Saturday night. Who’s in?” All but one declined: Priscilla.
ThePADDLER 49

ThePADDLER 50
We were on the water by 08.00
Saturday morning with a cool NW breeze
feathering across our skin. Blue skies, wisps of fog
and stoke for our quick Big Sur tour filled the
conversation as we packed our sea kayaks with
food, dry clothes, sleeping bags and safety gear.
Paddling along the white sandy stretch of
Garrapata Beach and around Kaiser Point, the
fog teased our visibility in an uncomfortable
dance of hide and seek. The steep Santa Lucia
Mountains to the east were our guides. Travelling
further south these 1,600 foot ridge tops
disappeared into another time.
Castle Rock, our first critical navigational mark,
emerged from behind a veil. Through dense fog
we began to make out rock pillars and a large
stone face rising out of the water – guards of
an ancient timeline of mountains and erosion.
The tall concrete supports of a coastal icon
rose up to meet the sun. We stopped for water
and calories under the Bixby Bridge; breathing
in the morning solitude shared with two
Common dolphins.
We surfed our first waves after rounding
Hurricane Point. Wind at our stern quarter,
boats picking up momentum, we began linking
waves together. Each swell increased our hull
speed, allowing us to pick up the next roller. We
were surfing to Big Sur and making excellent
time! Point Sur was our next target.
With winds blowing 20 knots, we approached an
obscured Point Sur. Blindly rounding the point,
we adjusted our heading to stay 100 yards off
the rock. The spit of sand on the lee side of the
landmark was a funnel for the gradient weather
patterns. It was windy. Really windy. We set our
course to 111 magnetic and continued surfing
towards False Sur, Swiss Canyon and the Big Sur
river mouth.
We reached our camp at 12.30 where raking
sand scoured a forgotten beach of lost shoes and
wrack. Seventeen and a half nautical miles in four
hours. This seemed appropriate for a travelling
surf session. We hauled our loaded boats high up
on the deserted beach and took stock of the
afternoon’s potential. Priscilla opted for a long
walk down the beach-of-searching-souls, while I
hunkered down behind my boat to read about
the birds facing into the afternoon’s gale.
I couldn’t remember the last time I was a human
being rather than a human doing. Deserted
beaches can do that do you. I read, I walked, I
collected a dozen shoes lost to their owners.
Who were these people and why did they all
lose their left shoe? This, I thought, is what a
human being does without Facebook, SnapChat,
Email or Netflix. We ask questions, we create, we
mark time by the sun, moon and tides… and
hopes of diminishing winds.
I hardly sleep at all but it didn’t really matter. The
stars are out; the Milky Way offering
opportunities of distant wonder – the wind too
seems distant from our protected lee. We point
our kayaks north and head home this morning. I
hope the paddle is enjoyable, I know it won’t
be… so does Priscilla. The small craft advisory
told us so and we… I …didn't listen.
We launch our boats in the Big Sur
river at 05.00
Guided by moonlight and pre-dawn stars, we
paddle a few lengths up river and edge our long
sea kayaks around to set up for the narrow
channel we need to thread for the final hard left
turn that will flush us into the ocean’s will. The
wind hits us a half mile from the confluence of
fresh and salt. We lean forward and dig in.
The rising sun lights up Priscilla’s X18. Her white
boat, a sunrise-orange bloom in the middle of
wind’s hand. The sculpted blue troughs and high
peaks speak of adventure, of challenge… of raw
grace. Looking deeply, I feel connected to the
moment… of the sublime. My mind looks
hopelessly towards our next objectives.
It is difficult for me to articulate. Words get lost,
just as one hopes the mind will, when the physical
body is pushed beyond assumptive limits. I've
never had to work so hard physically or mentally
in my 52 years as I have on this trip and we’re not
even half way home; in fact we’ve only be on the
water for two hours this morning.
By now, four hours into the slog, I am feeling panic
bubble up the back of my neck, floating all
rationale and calm up and out of some invisible
seam in my head. My mind, hardly wandering, is
gripped solely on its objective; gripped on
embracing the suck; gripped like my cramping

ThePADDLER 51

ThePADDLER
muscles. Catch, pressure, rotate, exit. Time,
distance, speed. My mind is falling into that abyss
of fear, the frustration, the incessant mental
smackdown… and with it, draining the precious
few positive thoughts left. I am so screwed!
Every time I look ahead, Priscilla seems unfazed by
the experience, somehow living in a world of
fuzzy bunnies only attainable through an
enlightenment far greater than any I have achieved
in this lifetime or any other.
We land in the sheltered bliss of Bixby Cove, sip a
some of water and attempt to throw some
calories down rather than up. The absence of wind
is deafening. The constant pressure, the strain, the
wind's howling eddies forming in my ears, the salt
spray with each stroke, the chill of sweat and
exhaustion… gone. This is a snapshot in time. A
molecule of the sublime qualities of being,
wordless and lacking definition to the mind. We sit
relieved and smiling under the towering concrete
cathedral of the Bixby Bridge once again.
I am thinking things will get better as we approach
our final point, Soberanes. Why I am thinking this is
beyond me. The wind is getting worse. With each
point we clear, the pressure mounts. The wind is
dancing with my paddle blades – teasing and
encouraging each blade’s independence from my
control. I am no longer the dominant partner. We
still have hours to go in deteriorating conditions.
Rocky Point comes after a two and a quarter mile
slog across one of the most beautiful bays along
the coast. Bordered to the east by an iconic bluff
extending along Rocky Point, Palo Colorado and
Rocky Creek, this bay is often tranquil and is the
summation of California's Coastal elegance. Today,
I see none of it. I am aware of none of it. We just
need to clear our next point. I am paying no
attention to our Mother’s beauty. How many of
these moments of grace have been lost to my
inability to embrace the suck? How do I
experience beauty when all I am feeling is
exhaustion, frustration and fear. Sixty enlightened
moments lost to an unenlightened soul.
This stopped being a sightseeing trip a long time
ago. The conditions are too rough to enjoy a nearshore
paddle. We are trying to shave off every
foot we can from every mile just to get off the
water sooner. A and B are the only two letters in
our alphabet at this point.
Mush-mind. The face relaxes and droops slightly,
the eyes soften, the body, working at hyperovercapacity
over time, begins to move without
direction, without notice. The mind conjures fewer
thoughts – a string of sentences melts to a string
We land in the sheltered
and attempt

liss of Bixby Cove, sip a some of water
to throw some calories down rather than up
ThePADDLER 53

ThePADDLER 54
I keep an eye on Priscilla as she navigates around rock,
crashing waves and reflected swell energy
confused beyond recognition

of words melting into words coalescing to one
word and into timelessness. Words create time
and time creates need. Need creates words.
Again. Relax the face, soften the eyes, move
without direction, sentences to words, words to
word, word to timelessness. Mush-mind; this is the
objective when the body is suffering.
Final state of deterioration
We round Soberanes at 11.20 into absolute
nuking winds and huge swells rolling in. If
something goes sideways, a lost paddle, a
swimmer, an injury, the wind will surely blow us
into some place unrecoverable. There is no towing
option, no resting option, no landing option, we
have reached that final state of deterioration.
We are two and a quarter miles from the take
out and we dare not let a blade leave the water.
Each paddle stroke is like moving a snow shovel
through mud. Every stroke guided by a forward
shoulder, deep catch, pressure on the foot and a
strong rotation from the body. Our reality, no
paddle stroke too shitty, no words too foul, no
hate too deep. It’s a shit show now and we just
want to get the fuck off the water.
I keep an eye on Priscilla as she navigates around
rock, crashing waves and reflected swell energy
confused beyond recognition. Outside sets are
difficult to anticipate. The intensity of the wind is
reaching a comical state at this point. I know we’re
going to make it if we can just stay off the rocks.
Priscilla arrives first and waits to land on the
beach while I catch up. As I approach, I can feel
the last seven and a half hours disappearing
already. Memory is a funny thing that way. As the
fear lifts, so too lifts the mind-fuck—the mind
gripping tightly on the suck until it feels safe again.
Surfacing between exhaustion, thirst and hunger,
I now begin to embrace the raw beauty and
depth of the experience. Priscilla looks at me
and says, “That was so fucking hard!”
We land our crafts; bodies unfold and we crawl
out of our boats. Boats… extensions of our
spines, vertebrae; connecting us to the sea.
We haul our boats and gear up the trail, load our
cars and change into dry clothes. We say
goodbye. Priscilla has another long slog ahead of
her through central coast summer traffic along
Highway One—more beautiful coastal scenery.
Three hours later she will arrive at her home in
the South Bay…surrounded by concrete, cars
and humans. It will be weeks before Priscilla and
I have an opportunity to talk about the Big Sur
trip. I wonder about her insights and how they
will manifest in other parts of her life.
ThePADDLER 55

ThePADDLER 56
I drive home 20 minutes inland from our
takeout. Exhausted and speechless, I take stock
of my being. My sense is that this has been
deeply healing for both of us, in our own ways, in
our own lives. Tonight I will fall into a fog of
physical and mental repair.
balanced and rejuvenated
Five days a week I make the same drive to work;
sometimes in my car, sometimes on my bike. Today,
Monday, as I cross the Salinas River, I feel different.
My body feels whole, balanced and rejuvenated.
My connection to the land feels vivid. I feel
saturated in the water that surrounds us all. There
is a deeper relationship now – a connection and
admiration at an elemental level. I will not be
spared from the wrath of the elements but I will
be a more willing participant in their grace.
Arriving at work, after clocking in, the first order
of business is to check the surf report to see
what potentials exist for the coming weekend.
Catch, pressure, rotate, exit. Again.

NEW
MULTISPORT 5
DRYSUIT
FRONT ENTRY|BACK ENTRY|NEW COLOURWAYS
of
TECHNICAL
EXCELLENCE
Comes with
a changing
mat bag
HINGE ZIP FOR QUICK DONNING
NEOPRENE NECK SEAL
3 YEAR WARRANTY
www.typhoon-int.co.uk | sales@typhoon-int.co.uk | +44(0) + 1642 486 104 | Typhoon_international | TyphoonInt

ThePADDLER 58
K A Y A K I N G T H E
INDIA
W E S T C O A S T O F
2

I live in India. A land often associated with strong religious beliefs, snake charmers
and elephants. But we have kayaks and a coastline to boast about. People’s
warmth will drive away the cold you feel in your bones after nine hours of
kayaking out at sea. This is the story of how I kayaked the west coast of India.
Story: Kaustubh Khade
We left off in Gujarat where the effect
of the gulf can be felt hundreds of
kilometres away and ships anchors are
prone to breaking. It was the first state I was to
check off my list of six states and three union
territories (cities that come under the central
government’s jurisdiction). Incidentally, it was also
the state where I encountered a rising sun over
the sea.
Day 11
I’m standing at the southern tip of the island of
Diu and the water is a clear blue. But It’s not the
water that has my attention – it’s the sunrise.
Despite being on the west coast of India, the sun
is rising majestically over the sea to the east.
As the town wakes, I’m stretching for another
day of kayaking. I am 10 days into my threemonth
long, human-powered expedition to solo
kayak the west coast of India (3,000 kms), the
first attempt by any Indian. The sea is calm and as
I launch, it doesn’t betray what is in store. I kayak,
for the first time, into a golden sunrise and it is
indescribable.
Just 30 minutes, or three kms later, I am
astonished to find the blue water has turned a
murky opaque brown. To my left, the coastline is
now jagged with rocks. A wind picks up and the
calm sea turns into a whirlwind of raging brown
water. As I enter the influence of the Gulf of
Khambhat, I realize I am being sucked into the
gulf at great speed. I’m suddenly propelled at
10kms/hr, often into the waves this head-wind is
kicking up.
ThePADDLER 59

ThePADDLER 60

It’s fast and reckless all of a sudden, and a
turbulent sea keeps me guessing my route. After
28 kms of horrendous kayaking and four hours
at sea, I am three kms from Rajpara, the last big
fishing village this side of the gulf. At this
opportune time, dehydrated and aching, I get
sucked into an eddie. Waves leap up at me as I
kayak above rocks hidden from view. The water
makes it difficult to decipher the right way out.
A large fishing boat, the only kinds that can ply
here, spots me. They take a U-turn, from their
position of safety, to provide help. By the time
they arrive I’m made my peace with the water
and instead we quickly exchange information.
Sitting two kms out at sea, they help plot a
course, and I bid adieu to the rough waters in
exchange for Gujurati hospitality. Day 11.
Seventy-two more to go.
Detour: the ship graveyard
Nothing on this trip, and I mean nothing, had me
more excited than the small town of Alang.
There is that old question, “If you knew where
you would meet your demise, would you
knowingly go there?” For 30 years, ships have
been, like dogs sensing their end, retreating to
Alang for their last rites. Huge giants of the sea
treading softly in on a high tide, and as the water
retreats their death toll is rung.
It takes three months to tear apart a medium
size container vessel, says the guard, Prajapati. He
tells me that once a ship is brought into land, the
captain is relieved of his ship. Sold through bids
to any one of the multitude of ship breakers, it’s
now no more than a hunk of metal, wood and
plastic – and not a scrap goes to waste.
As we drive into Alang, five kms out, they start.
Big open warehouses, fenced and categorized,
big dusty yards turned orange by life-rafts of all
sizes and states of disrepair. One lot has engines
in that rustproof green. Cables, pulleys, ropes of
varying thicknesses and make. I ask for life
jackets and the owner of the yard starts blowing
into aircraft yellow inflatables. I can buy a bath
tub with the works and a jerry can to fill it with.
Furniture stores share a border with
warehouses selling wood planks that share a
border with waterproof doors. Buoys, anchors
and winter down-jackets.
An army of workers from all over India come
here to work, says Ramprakash, the kindly,
groggy attendant at ship breaking plot 134. What
once took years of work, from parts from
around the world and withstood the battering
of a million waves, is now taken apart by a mob
of migrant workers in the brown city in Gujarat.
As the workers start entering the plots, I smell
fumes. The kinds my lungs would avoid if they
could take a walk off of this beach. Big chemical
carriers, container ships, dredgers, drillers. 50%
of the world’s ships due for demolition come to
Alang. On a long enough timeline the chances of
a ship ending up at Alang is higher than ships in
the Suez Canal being attacked by Somali Pirates
on a bad day. Definitely more than the chances
of the workers seeing a ripe age of 60. Welcome
to Alang,the dying graveyard.
Alang’s beach runs for five kms, each plot shares
a wall with another. Walls and gates meant to
keep prying eyes and camera lenses out. Fate is
not without irony as the one thing they all share
in common are the words boldly painted on the
wall — ‘Safety first.’ To drive home the humour –
‘Clean Sosiyo, Green Sosiyo.’
I’ve now wriggled my way on to the beach. The
first ship I see looks a wreck. A container vessel
whose stern literally fell out with the rest of the
ship. Containers stand in the water while an
open ship rotor sticks out over the brown
murky waves. I move on. The next ship looks
almost whole, only the top of the bow has been
ThePADDLER 61

ThePADDLER 62
removed. Prajapati has seen it all. He adds
nothing to his explanation of permissions being
revoked. As I stare at the hunk of metal that was
removed before the paperwork arrived, I see the
name of the vessel – ‘Friends’. So here it lies,
dying and friendless. As I chat with said guard,
two local women start picking up plastic gems
scattered on this rocky beach after the departing
tide. Prajapati shoos them off. Nothing is black
and white here. Just various shades of brown,
each squabbling for a juicier pound of flesh.
There’s no going further than Alang. By sea that
is. The sea is littered with shrapnel. Even if I
launched I would have to wade out for miles to
put the kayak knee deep. If I did that, the Gulf
might take me, so at the advice of everyone
who’s sailed or avoided sailing here, we cut
across 30 kms to the beach of Dandi, where
Mahatami Gandhi broke the British with his
barefoot march for free salt.
Mainland!
Breaking past the peninsula of Gujarat has it’s
benefits. One, the cross wind doesn’t play as big a
role here. It does however expose me to a sea of
rock under the sea of brown murky water. I
launch from Gandhi’s favoured beach with the
tide behind my back. It’s fast paddling and the
calm you’d expect in a sheltered beach. The charts
I’ve consulted show fishing nets and rocks and
sure enough I’m dodging through poles and fishing
lines about two kms out. I’m skirting danger by
being this close but it’s a thin line between some
of these rocks. By day three of this, I feel I’ve got
the hang of it and skirt between a rock island and
land. I’m sure I can touch the bottom where I’m
paddling, but the sea is calm and I like my chances.
#donottrythisathome
Despite the sun and the murkiness of the water,
I am buoyant. A little out of my third day halt, I
catch waves of sandbars. Instead of weaving past,

Standing out a few kilometres out with your own kayak and
nothing but time
and endless sea is true freedom
I stop at one. I name my island of sand and take
in a 360 degree view of sea. Standing out a few
kilometres out with your own kayak and nothing
but time and endless sea is true freedom.
After days of being the only crazy in these
waters, I run into fishermen and it’s nice to listen
to a voice that hasn’t been downloaded. We talk
about nothing mostly, and then about Bombay,
the city of dreams and home. I’m told I should
hurry because there’s a leaving tide and it can
get pretty marshy pretty quickly in this spot. So I
head on. By the 23rd day I’m in Maharashtra and
past my first state.
Crossing over
When you come to India people will use the
word ‘diverse’ fairly often. But after 23+ days of
vegetarian food, I dig into some chicken and I
thank diversity. It’s also a beach where the water
is maroon, thanks to effluents and a whopper of
a fish jumps out, almost startling me straight into
the depths of this hell that humans have created.
But that’s quickly forgotten when I’m mistaken
ThePADDLER 63

ThePADDLER 64
for a hostile port researcher on landing and
welcomed by a mob of youngsters and the
media. It does help to know the language and I
leave with a helping hand and a news piece by
an eccentric journalist in the local paper. All in a
day’s work.
Before we wrap that chapter though, I should
inform you that some prankster stole my spray
skirt. Now this isn’t the kind of thing you
account for. Broken paddle – sure, losing
bottles – yes, drowning a mobile or two – why,
not? But someone taking off with a Seal
Extreme Tour Spray Skirt in a country where
nobody has a kayak to match it and you can’t
find a replacement for thousands of miles, just
takes the cake. I have another small channel to
cross to get into the island of Bombay
(Mumbai), one that can get turbulent and see
some big container ships. To run or not to run
(without a spray skirt) is the question. I run.
Welcome home
Having squandered a month in the reckless
pursuit of the sea, it feels good to return
home. The fishing village of Uttan has been
alerted to the return of the prodigal
son and asked to come celebrate. I’ve
barely walked 10 metres on the beach
before I’m garlanded twice and the
topic of a town hall meeting by the beach.
The local politician is expounding on how
vision and resilience has helped this son-of-anon-fisherman
map the country’s coastline. I
could correct him and tell him how it was

Abhilash Tomy, the first Indian to
solo circumnavigate
the world non-stop, comes to see me off.
important for the country to recognize the
sport and sportsmen, but the narrative is
powerful stuff. I could tear up, but the aroma of
the garland is refreshing and the confused look
of the collective mob is distracting. I retreat to
some of the best seafood I’ve had. What’s the
helping after seconds called?
Amazon prime, DHL and logistics partners are
working to get me a new spray skirt all the way
from the US, thanks to my kayaking partner in
Bombay. A cyclone sets up on the east coast of
India and grounds air traffic. Perfect. I sip some
tea at home and stare out the window into
nothingness. A couple of interviews make the
evening news pan-India and I return to waiting
out a cyclone.
Finally the parcel arrives and literally seven hours
later I’m launching from the Gateway of India, a
historic monument that sits at the mouth of
Bombay’s harbour. Abhilash Tomy, the first Indian
to solo circumnavigate the world non-stop,
comes to see me off. He and Commander Dilip
Dhonde have been instrumental in charting out
this path and staying on course, so it is amazing
having one of them here.
And so begins a route I’ve kayaked before –
Bombay to Goa. From financial capital to beach
destination. Much like last time, it didn’t
disappoint. I did however, have more confidence
in this path and I found myself taking more
informed decisions about which ports to dock
and which ones to avoid. I was also less cautious
ThePADDLER 65

ThePADDLER 66
I’ve just dipped my hand in the water when the plastic pumps and
its tentacles run a Mexican wave! It’s an
orange jellyfish
that I was going to pull out with my bare hands

this coastline. Often, I’m too dehydrated or out of
the way to pick it up. Being on the water everyday
for 7–9 hours, paddling in the harsh sun, perpetually
wet, trying to maintain a steady pace doesn’t allow
for too many detours. But when I am 4 kms out of
the port of Ratnagiri, I am buoyant, optimistic and
feel I can make a difference.
So, when my kayak draws up next to a flat orange
piece of plastic, I decide to pick it up. I’ve just
dipped my hand in the water when the plastic
pumps and its tentacles run a Mexican wave! It’s
an orange jellyfish that I was going to pull out with
my bare hands, as it drifts away majestically.
with my distances and where, on the last
expedition I had taken four days to cover my
first 120 kms, I found myself doing it in three this
time. The state’s tourism board had offered me
lodging at their beach side properties and it was
a welcome gesture. Shanjali, my girlfriend, took ill
on day three and we spent the day on a beach
facing house with some clear water and a
private sandbar.
Maharashtra is home, and it sure felt like it.
When we resumed, I found that it was faster to
take the water route than land. With it’s
unending hills that lie close to the sea, I’d find I
reached destinations much
faster than Shanjali did on
a cycle. It gave
me time to
mix with
the locals
and talk shop, all with the complimentary
coconut in hand.
On the water, I was having a great time, having had
most of my run ins with the police; it was quite
jovial thanks to some high-level clearances dad had
procured in Bombay. That is the trick to sailing
under the radar – knowing the right person.
Indian waters are full of plastic
The beauty of our own backyard is often lost on
us. However, one always wants to preserve it.
Plastic. It is the enemy and no one knows this
better than someone who’s seen it strewn all along
I barely snap my hand back as the water around
me changes. The clear green water comes alive
with orange. My kayak is swarmed with Jellyfish.
My paranoid mind tells me they are here to
window shop their lunch. I paddle hard and fast
out of it. When I’m clear I laugh, to no one in
particular. When you’re so far out at sea, there is
no one, you’re laughing at nature and it’s laughing
back. I turn around and kayak back, get the
camera out and take a moment to be with my
new found friends.
The next day, I chase a pod of dolphins. Eight of
them surfacing together, forming lines of breaking
spray just three metres ahead of me. One lone
wolf consecutively dives out in glee. Just as I
catch up to them, paddling furiously, they break
away playfully and change course. I laugh and
maintain mine.
The waters of Maharashtra, India are blue, green,
grey and orange! It’s day 36 and I have 47 more
to go.
Goa – the beach capital
I enter Goa jubilant at how quickly I’ve crossed
Maharashtra. As opposed to the 17 days it took
me the last time, I’d saved four days by taking just
the one rest day. So when we landed in we were
ready to let our hair down. Our sponsors
obviously had spotted this, as they sent down a
crew to welcome us with video cameras. We
took a well earned break and took some
amazing shots, shuttling to butterfly beach and
back. Yes, it’s as picturesque as it sounds.
When we hit the waters a few days later and
covered the small sliver of coast in just three
well timed days, treating ourselves to some crab
and shrimp along the way. As opposed to the
regular fare of ‘local food’ this was a real shot in
the arm.
The jellyfish continued to follow me all the way
into the next state though and the water turned
even clearer.
ThePADDLER 67

ThePADDLER 68
Karnataka
The first time I’d visited this state was on a
back breaking motorbike ride across some
very broken
roads. After 10
hours of riding
and a bike failure, the road finally ran parallel to
the most pristine pebbled beach I’d ever seen.
Also, the local food is Idli, a personal favourite.
Crossing over from Goa to Karnataka was
picturesque. The land is scattered with islands.
To welcome me, a pod of three dolphins
thrashed around darting one way and then the
next. Karwar is the first major fishing village
and we skirted past its calm waters into the
infamous Gokarna, known for its ganja parties
and drownings. Thanks to the tourists, the
shacks by the beach were full and I spent the
night in a small room that was 2x3 metres
wide and called a cement block a bed. A
window small enough to squeeze my face
through allowed me to take in the full moon.
Yet, I slept soundly and before the beach could
wake up, I was already crossing the small
channel that lies south of Gokarna.
Mangalore houses three surf schools but try as
I might, I did not spot them on the water. It was
pure luck that after having crossed two of
them, a friend on Facebook reached out
to me and invited us to stay with
him. We readily accepted,
after

having going a number of days without a break.
We took in a surf session at the local surf
school and paddled out to a wreckage of a ship
that lies just under the water’s edge.
With us firmly into January, the winds started
picking up in the afternoons and very soon the
cross winds were blowing shoulder high waves
into my path. It made the going considerably
slower and to complicate matters I donated my
smartphone to the sea. On the water it meant
I had nothing to distract me, but for Shanjali it
was a lot of , “Where ARE you?” moments.
Lasso of justice
I pride myself in being super friendly on the
water, always stopping to have a chat with
the local fishermen. So when I
passed Shiriya
and entered
the
penultimate state of Kerala, I thought it was
some curious fishermen flagging me down. I
slowed down so the two of them could catch
up and as they powered down and drifted
close, I said Hi. I got nothing. Passive faces as
the first guy asked me where I’m from. I
answered him, while at the back I see the guy
at the engine coiling rope. I turn just in time as
he flings a lasso right at me! I’m stunned but I
put the brakes on, and the lasso overshoots. I
back paddle quickly enough and ask what this is
about? The first chap starts telling me how I
should speak to the police and I say that I’m
happy to. He starts bringing his boat around,
coiling the rope again.
ThePADDLER 69

ThePADDLER 70
https://youtu.be/ITLXX9OsxCQ
I literally could not move – my body cold and
hurting, dehydrated
and unsure of where I was

I make it very clear that I am happy to talk to
whoever he likes and even follow him to shore,
but I will not have him lasso my kayak again. I’m
not sure he gets the gist, but he thrusts a phone
at me and says police. I go on to have a broken
conversation about who I am and where I’m
from. My name, which is not easy on most days
to pronounce, finds particularly good form with
an on-edge police officer on a shaky network
connection. I tell him I’ll come and meet him and
he takes my number down for good measure.
I return the phone to the first fisherman. His
captain is smoking a bidi (a local cigarette that is
known for being cheap and of questionable
content). He has a drag and then offers it to me
as a truce. I’m a ruffled bird, but I politely refuse
and just like that we part ways. The fishermen
content they’ve done their bit, and I amused at
how I found cowboys out at sea.
The story ended well with a trip to the policemen
later that evening, having a photo taken together
with that photo (plus story) making it to the local
newspaper the next day. Welcome to Kerala, a
state laced with natural beauty.
God’s own country
At day 73 I had the option of kayaking in the
calm, serene backwaters that run parallel to the
coast in Kerala. These backwaters were built to
once traverse the whole state and I thought it
was a good way to get some kilometres on the
pedometer.
One of Kerala’s largest backwaters stretches
from just north of Kochi all the way down to
Allepy. A 90km distance through the canals. So
far, the longest days I’ve paddled have been 45
kms, so I figure that on a calmer stretch, I can do
45 in about six hours of kayaking. This is a story
of optimism vs reality.
45 km days are exhausting in hot and humid
conditions. But such was my confidence that I
took a morning interview with a newspaper and
even took time out to let his photographer take
some stunning shots in the backwaters. By the
time I launched, I was already three hours late.
However, I was not too worried and it helped to
have scenery so close on either side.
Big Chinese fishing nets stretched on my left and
in the middle of the backwater, a fisherman cast
out his hopes and pulled it back as I sauntered
past him in my kayak. I had taken my DSLR out
on the water, and I made good use of it,
capturing the cars humming on bridges
overhead and the massive blue port of Kochi. As
I entered the harbour area, big boats skipped
past, leaving me in their wake.
The backwater is treacherous in the fact that
every path looks alike and I couldn’t distinguish
routes on the line-drawing on my GPS watch. As
the afternoon kicked in and the novelty of the
backwater withered away, another truth dawned
on me. It had been five hours that I’d been
kayaking and only completed 22kms. I had 20
kms to go and the tide was against me.
I also found that I was short on both food and
water. The heat kicked up and I was burning in my
jacket. Just as I took it off, a storm hit. The rain
seeped through and I went from burning up to
being cold and damp – it was painfully slow going.
Standing in the rain, flailing his arms around, I saw
someone calling out to me. Uncharacteristically, I
approached, and in broken hindi he said , “Bada
barish. Aap ruko. Fir jao.” (A storm is about to hit,
please wait it out). Such was his sincerity and so
beaten was my condition, that I brought my
kayak alongside his boat, parked along the bank
and just stopped. I literally could not move – my
body cold and hurting, dehydrated and unsure of
where I was.
Over his shoulder, his brother peered at me and
said, “Lunch kiya?” (have you had lunch) I
mumbled , “No.” A wave of worry washed over
their faces, and the next thing I know – they’re
helping me out of my kayak, onto their boat and
then to land. Minutes later I was walking through
thicket and into their small house. The whole
village seemed to congregate, as I was ushered in
and given a fresh plate of rice and curry and fish.
As I wolfed it down, someone brought me icecold
water (a first in a state that has hot water
with every meal). As I answered questions and
showed the kids my GoPro, I was struck by how
beautiful life is. How simple and welcoming
people are. Someone fetched a pail of water for
me to wash my hands and walked me back to my
boat. The storm had cleared, and they helped me
back in the kayak and bid me goodbye. The next
18 kms were the easiest I’d done on this trip.
Muttom point
Much of Kerala was spent paddling in a fair bit of
discomfort. My fingers were swelling up and being
locked in a grip for those many hours was
particularly telling on my right hand. Despite the
endurance training and the stretching I was doing
every day, my bones were just not having it.
ThePADDLER 71

ThePADDLER 72
As we slipped past Kerala, with its shored up
beaches and the pitch black jellyfishes waiting for
the waves on either side of the kayak to trip you
up, we were coming dangerously close to the tip
of India. Here lies a point where the land goes
from it’s gradual south east direction to a full
east bearing. On the phone , Abhilash Tomy’s
words of, “Enjoy Muttom Point,” are fair warning.
The water gets rough and big waves lash out
head first. The Palk Strait that connects the east
and west seas, has its own influence here and I
can do nothing but ride it all out.
As we entered Tamil Nadu, I knew we had just
three days of kayaking to go. A close friend of
mine had travelled half the country to be at the
finish with his wife, but thanks to an unscheduled
stop we were going to miss him by a day. He
visited us a day before the end and together we
did a ‘recce’/dinner at the end point –
Kanyakumari, arguably the best known city for
100 kms.
My mother flew in to the nearest airport and it
suddenly started kicking in that I was close to
the finish. I’d paddled a 40 km stretch on the
penultimate day leaving me with a meagre 22
kms to gallop on the last day. As I launched from
the beach for the last time, I didn’t feel as
accomplished as I felt the calm of completion. I
recall singing my first 7–8 kms. I feel noise carries
loudest over water, but I didn’t much care that
https://goo.gl/maps/iCPqj8dnCyN2
morning. I could see the large black stone statue
that adorns the southern tip of India and
distinctly remember my spirits lift. As I paddled
between it and the mainland, I whipped out my
phone and called home. “I did it Dad.”
I didn’t tear up. That was waiting for my landing. I
circled the spot a few times, and just took it all
in. On land, Shanjali and mom were going to get
a couple of shots of me coming into land. As I
waited for them to set up, Shanjali calls and tells
me to head to land. Not for the shot, but for my
welcome party of cops. I landed to the
grumpiest policeman of my trip, but so buoyant
was my mood that it ended with me telling the
collected press about the fab job he’d done, and
him giving me his number to call in case of any
‘emergencies’.
In a weird circle of life way, the expedition
started and ended with cops telling me where I
should and shouldn’t be kayaking. But I did it
anyway. And that’s probably the best way to
kayak the west coast of India.

Manufactured with pride in Bavaria
OUR
CHECK NEW
DISTRIBUTOR
www.en.prijon.com/PRIJON-UK-2.html
Made in Germany
Innlaende 6 Phone: +49 (0) 8031 / 3037-0 info@prijon.com
83022 Rosenheim Fax: +49 (0) 8031 / 3037-99 www.en.prijon.com
prijonkayakpaddles
WWW.EN.PRIJON.COM

ThePADDLER 74
W I N T E R C R O S S I N G F O R
RANNOCH

MOOR
Story and photos: Angela Ward and Adam Evans
PERTH
T O
2
Continuing Angela and Adam’s story from the Late Summer edition (read about the
first three days here… https://joom.ag/Je4L/p50.
DAY FOUR
Surprisingly for Scotland, the lovely weather continued and we awoke to a sparkling
morning haze on the mirror-calm waters of Loch Tummel. We paddled to the end of
the loch and onwards between the steep pine-covered slopes of Loch Faskally to
Pitlochry and then we portaged past the huge metal water-holding dam. Rather than
portaging through the town itself, we decided to follow the directions which were
offered to us by a helpful elderly local gentleman who told us of a ‘short-cut’.
ThePADDLER 75

ThePADDLER
76
It wasn’t exactly the shortest of short-cuts but
en route, we conveniently discovered a thing of
great beauty – a pub. This gave us the chance to
obey the fourth rule of expedition paddling
according to Adam, which is to never pass up on
the opportunity to use a proper toilet. It was
wonderful to have the opportunity to rest in the
sunshine and stretch our legs whilst enjoying
another medicinal pint of Thistly Cross cider.
Definitely another of life's perfect moments.
A tarp, a stove and fresh air
Past detours and dead-ends with our canoes on
trolleys, we found our way back onto the River
Tummel and slid our boats into the water, much
to the amusement of nearby fishermen. We then
paddled on gently in the fading sunshine to just
past the poignant confluence of the Tummel and
the Tay. Hauling the canoes up the river bank we
camped that night on the edge of a farmer’s
sheep field, again using the combination of our
boats, paddles and a tarp. There is something
truly magical about a tarp, a stove and fresh air.
Next morning, we awoke to bright sunshine
streaming through the entrance to our tarp and
outside, the warm grass was sparkling with dew.
Anybody can rough it outdoors, so for us to
have a little luxury It’s become a tradition on our
expeditions, so today we had freshly cooked
pancakes with maple syrup. Adam always makes
them. I’m capable of making them myself but he’s
very proud of his pancakes so I’m more than
happy to sit back, watch and eat. We’re a
successful paddling and pancake partnership as
he cooks and I eat.
Appetites satiated, the farmer on whose land
we’d camped was out checking on his livestock
and came over for an early morning chat. There
was no issue whatsoever with us being there. In
fact he was more than happy to see people
travelling through and engaging with the
splendour of the Scottish countryside. We
discussed the importance of being respectful to
the environment and that we closely adhere to
the ‘leave no trace’ philosophy.
‘Proper adventure’
The farmer seemed impressed that we'd
travelled by canoe from Rannoch Moor, saying
that we'd had a ‘proper adventure’. He noted
that many people and particularly kids like the
ones from the local outdoor activity centre,
could gain much more from doing something
like this than their usual on-site thrill activities.
Sadly, we were inclined to agree and also noted
how much the concept of adventure has
changed in recent years. There seems to have
been a move away from deeper ethical learning
experiences towards something less so and
more focussed on simple thrills.

Next morning, we awoke to bright sunshine streaming
through the entrance to our tarp and outside,
the warm grass
was sparkling with dew
ThePADDLER 77

ThePADDLER 78
Retrieving my beautiful boat and my well-loved
expedition kit without any
loss or damage
was an extremely emotional moment

onto my PFD and I went into the water as ‘live
bait’ in order to retrieve as much kit as I could
from my boat in order to make it as light as
possible before attempting to haul it free.
The first priority was of course to retrieve my two
Downcreek Paddles. All the kit inside my boat was
well-organised & carefully packed so although it
was partly submerged and I only had one fullyfunctioning
hand, I got everything out reasonably
quickly and being organised on an expedition
makes it easier for things to go right but also easier
to solve problems when things go wrong.
Day five
Having meandered along Loch Tay and River Tay
twice previously, I was familiar with the final leg
of our journey. Passing through Dunkeld and
Caputh, we made our way towards one of my
most favourite locations, the grand point at
which the Tay passes through a narrow gap,
Campsie Linn. Although the current was carrying
us along, the pain and attractive crunching sound
in my wrist was getting progressively worse. The
usual strategy of dunking my bare forearm in icy
cold water had become a way of life for the past
few days and that had been pretty successful.
The constriction caused by the latex wrist seal
on my paddlesuit had made my forearm swell up
to the size of a small pink marrow and make
noises akin to a badly lubricated old wooden
door. Taking this and the water levels into
account, we decided that rather than paddling
over the main section of Campsie Linn and risk a
large boil area and haystack-filled swim, we'd line
the canoes and kit down one of the smaller side
chutes. Discretion is the better part of valour
and all that jazz.
What followed next can best be described as
‘The Tale of the Two Point Broach at Campsie
Linn’. What should have been a relatively simple
manoeuvre resulted in being very complicated. It
was entirely my fault. I was a split-second too
slow in releasing my painter and the fast-moving
current swung my boat and it ended up being
jack-knifed solid across the base of the chute
with the force of the water holding it in place.
It’s not really something to be proud of but Adam
did say it was the worst pin location that he’d ever
seen. There was only one low boulder that we
could use as an anchor point and we’d somehow
need to lift the boat up by about a metre, as well
as peeling it. It clearly wasn’t going to be an easy
release. We constructed a system using pulleys and
two strong floating lines which Adam reckoned
was about an 8:1 haul. He attached a safety rope
The icy-cold raging water meant that the
swelling in my forearm was much less and an
added bonus was that my cuticles were
extremely clean. It was like a little trip to a little
natural beauty spa. Apart from the relaxation. I
don’t think that jet-washing your hands is a
conventional beauty treatment but it definitely
worked! With a liberal application of rope work
magic, muscle power and a fair dose of luck, We
were victorious and recovered my Paddy from a
watery grave.
Retrieving my beautiful boat and my well-loved
expedition kit without any loss or damage was
an extremely emotional moment. The only sign
of what had occurred was a minor blemish to
the edge of my Downcreek Dipper.
Very crunchy to slightly floppy
The original plan was to line the small chute and
then have a short break for a bite to eat but as
we'd lost time, we decided to press on hard in
order to reach the get-out at Perth Racecourse.
Without wishing to sound like a wimp, the pain
in my wrist was now getting progressively worse
and had changed from being very crunchy to
slightly floppy. I figured that I couldn't make it any
worse than it already was so I'd just ‘man-up’ and
get on with it. Rather than wild camping for
another night, I was spurred on by the thought
of having a shower under copious streams of hot
running water in a real bathroom and the
promise of beer and curry at the Balajee Spice
Indian restaurant.
Adam paddled on ahead slightly so that he could
locate the somewhat non-descript get-out point
and we reached our destination as the sun slid
down behind the horizon.
The final lugging of kit and boats up the steep
wooden steps and onto the canoe trolleys
heralded the final portage of this mega trip. True
to form, this wasn't as simple as we'd anticipated
but hey, nobody said it was going to be easy. If it
was easy, everyone would be doing it!
ThePADDLER 79

ThePADDLER 80
I’ve no idea how, but one of my trolley tyres had a split in it
so that slowed down my progress to an annoying crawl. By
the time we’d dragged the reluctant trolleys for a kilometre
and reached the wooded path at the back of the campsite,
our route was in darkness and an unfortunate altercation
between a tree root and my wonky trolley ended up with a
snapped axle, it failed just 50 metres from our destination.
If it had done so at any other point during the expedition
itself, we would have had to abandon the trip as portaging
would have been impossible. As far as we were concerned,
it was completely acceptable to ‘fail’ here because we could
simply drag my boat and kit for the last 50 metres to our
final destination.
We almost fell into the campsite, pitched our tents and got
ready to celebrate the completion of another tough,
inspiring classic expedition. The fact that I’d nearly killed my
Paddy, I had a painful swollen wrist and my arm was making
some very peculiar creaking noises didn’t dampen my
spirits. After all, it’s the tough bits and the hiccups which
make the best stories and the most amazing memories.
In Perth we enjoyed a slap-up meal whilst making travel
plans to get back to Loch Bà the following day. Scottish
public transport on Sunday wasn’t looking too promising
and whilst consulting the train timetable at Perth Railway
station, I was approached by a pair of local ‘Street Angels’
who asked if I was OK. I’m not entirely sure if I looked like I
was in distress or if I looked like a down and out but it was
kind of them to ask.
Our plan to find somewhere that serves alcoholic
beverages aka muscle relaxants aka Thistly Cross cider in
Perth after 10pm was also unsuccessful, so we resorted to
accepting cups of tea from a group of evangelists, who were
probably looking for people to convert to Christianity. I was
just happy to have a hot drink and some shortbread. It all
helped with achieving a great night’s sleep.
Day six
Accompanied by a dawn chorus from the birds, we set off
early from the campsite. We knew that the Sunday public
transport situation was likely to cause us issues but we were
confident that we’d ‘find a way’. It’s good to remember that
if every part of an expedition is planned and goes according
to that plan, then it’s no longer an adventure and instead,
becomes more like a package holiday.
With trains from Perth to Glasgow, we worked out that
unless we wanted to wait hours for a coach, we could get a
train to Lower Tyndrum, the closest station to our
destination. We walked to The Green Welly and then came
up with several ingenious options. Adam asked for advice in
the petrol station about taxis and buses and the attendant
said we’d have to walk. I’m not exactly sure how far it was
but a very long walk uphill in blazing hot sunshine with
super-sexy Crocs on our feet didn’t sound too appealing.

It’s good to remember that if every part
of an expedition is planned and goes
according to that plan, then it’s no
longer an adventure and instead,
becomes more like a
package holiday
ThePADDLER 81

ThePADDLER 82
experienced five days previously. It was now
devoid of snow and the summer-like expanse of
bright blue skies heralded the end of this epic
adventure and the start of our journey home.
I haven't been coached in cadging lifts from
complete strangers but I reckoned that I could
be useful here by pretending to be a damsel in
distress. Adam looked more like a convict on
the run. Six-foot and three inches – unshaven.
You get the picture!
My initial plan was to approach a coach driver in
the car park to ask if we sneak aboard but then I
came up with another plan. Lurk around near
the petrol pumps, find someone with a nice car
who didn't look like a serial killer and politely ask
them if they could take us to Loch Bà.
I noticed a nice looking car with a driver who
was wearing an immaculately pressed pink shirt
and had a mass of white hair. As they refuelled, I
made my move and politely asked, using my best
‘damsel in distress’ tones, if we could possibly
have a lift. Funnily enough, the pink-shirted, bushy
white-haired driver was in fact a very wellspoken
and incredibly kind retired dentist called
Freddie who was on holiday with his partner
Johnny. And that's how we ended up being
chauffeur-driven in a top spec Range Rover
through the wilds of Scotland, back to the
shockingly different Loch Bà, which we had
I'd like to give thanks to a couple
of people
Firstly to Adam ‘Dipsy’ Evans for his excellent
coaching and support with ongoing outrageous
ideas!
I'd also thank to thank Andi Riley for making my
paddlesuit. It's served me very well on all my
expeditions and certainly proved it's worth on
this trip, due to the harsh weather conditions.
DAM-X have been making drysuits for over 20
years now. Generally speaking, their suits last
10+ years and they have a meaningful ‘openended’
warranty. The paddlesuits themselves are
custom-made and so are a perfect fit. Their seam
construction is uniquely designed so that
individual damaged sections can be replaced,
rather than having to buy a complete
replacement. Repairs and adjustments are done
extremely quickly, usually within 2-3 days.
As well as making paddlesuits, DAM-X also
produce suits such as worn by scuba divers, by
voluntary and professional rescue services and
also by the British Antarctic Survey Team.
For further details, please feel free to
contact Andi Riley on 01234 267314 or
damwatersports@yahoo.co.uk

ThePADDLER 84
ROGEN RØROS
T O

Day one – Oster-Vingarna
A Scandinavian canoe expedition
By Mal Grey
As the low-loader left the remote gravel car park with our only vehicle on its back,
we were committed. Properly committed, as our only means of transport now
were our canoes and our feet, and the nearest water was still 800 metres away.
Ahead of us lay 100 kilometres or so of wilderness, a landscape of lakes, timeweathered
hills, tumbling rivers and, above all, rocks.
ThePADDLER 85

ThePADDLER 86
Our trip had been months in the planning,
and it had taken us three long days to drive
here from the UK with canoes on the van.
Rogen is a beautiful nature reserve in
Sweden, bumping up against the Norwegian
border at 62 degrees north, sitting on a
plateau at around 700 metres and thus
almost arctic in its appearance. A forest of
pines and birch covers most of the region,
growing on the thin layer of earth that
clings to the rocky land.
Above the woodlands, bare mountains are clad
merely in a variety of mosses, one of the few
things able to live here through the harsh
winters. A series of lakes, including the
eponymous centrepiece of the reserve, can be
linked together to form a circular tour or, as we
intended, extended into the Roa river system
that takes one across the border via the
enormous Lake Femunden, before a final section
of river leads to the former mining town and
World Heritage site of Røros. We expected this
to take us nearly two weeks, allowing time for a
few side excursions and with a few spare days to
allow for being wind-bound on the lakes. Our
journey would include big lakes, little lakes,
moderate white water, gentle meandering rivers
and, unfortunately, many portages where the
rivers were too difficult to run or too shallow to
paddle. We started as a group of six; for the first
few days, Fred and Rob would join the core
team of Mark, Dris, Paul and myself, before they
circled back to the start, unable to get enough
time off to finish the whole trip.
Into the wilds
Now we stood on the edge of the silent
wilderness, as our van was taken away to be
Finally, with a sense of relief, we were afloat on our first lake, Öster-Vingarna,
and we paddled happily around its islands and bays before swinging south
towards our first proper camp

looked at, for it had been sounding a little sickly,
in the hope that it would be returned to the end
of this gravel road before we returned for it. It
certainly put into perspective how reliant we
would now be on our own ability to travel
through this landscape. After a night camped by
the car park, our first portage, and first test,
began. This one wasn’t too bad, with boardwalks
and an obvious track, just a few roots and stones
keeping us alert. This became typical of the
portages during the first part of our trip, down
and into the Rogen reserve itself.
Finally, with a sense of relief, we were afloat on
our first lake, Öster-Vingarna, and we paddled
happily around its islands and bays before
swinging south towards our first proper camp,
having planned an easy day to start the trip with.
That night was spent in a lovely camp, with one
of the ‘wind shelters’ so typical of Scandinavia
forming a centrepiece where we could light a
fire and enjoy the first of our excellent meals.
Food is a key part of any wilderness trip, and we
were determined to eat well. Mark is now a
veteran of several Sweden trips, and having his
own dehydrator and vac-packer, as well as a high
level of culinary skill, he had prepared the
majority of our food, supplemented by my own
efforts for the first three nights when fresh food
could be used.
Another 700 metres portage in the morning
brought us to our next lake. Today we were
making for Rogen lake itself, via a small lake and
river system, about which we knew little. First we
paddled another island-dotted lake, Stor-
Tandsjön, complex enough that a compass
bearing helped find our exit. Would it be a
paddleable stream? No, it was a rock-filled
trickle, more stone than water. A 100-metre
Day two – on Rogen
ThePADDLER 87

ThePADDLER 88
This amazing landscape,
under the shadow of the hills, is basically a glacial moraine,
a mix of small scraped-out lakes separated by hills
portage took us down into a beautiful, sheltered
lake, where once more we took to the clear
waters. The day progressed, short portage
followed by short paddle, followed by more
lugging. We now finally felt we had left behind
the trappings of the modern world, enjoying a
simpler life where all we had to worry about
was the route ahead. We entered a stunning,
reed-lined lake, where an old, uninhabited beaver
lodge hinted at the wildlife around us. Exiting this
into a larger stream, we were glad to see that all
we needed to do was dodge a few rocks in the
gently flowing water, and our way onwards
towards Rogen was clear.
After the enclosed feel of the river and its small
lakes, where views were short, it was a bit of a
shock to come out onto Rogen itself. This is a big
lake, 18km long, sat high on the plateau at over
750 metres, and today it was looking rather grey
and bleak. Around the lake, the bare hills were
tinged with a strange pale green colour, the moss
which is one of the few things that can live there.
This shallow lake has a bit of a reputation, and
waves can rise quickly, but we were favoured
with only a modest breeze. Our plan was to
head for Rödviken, an arm of the lake on its
northern shore, where we would hopefully find
a sheltered camp, before heading north into a
maze of lakes where we would spend the next
couple of days exploring.
This was our first paddle of the trip on open
water, and it was a useful exercise to get the
hang of our boats in the slight chop. Dris and
Paul were tandem in a long Swift Temagami, and
quickly pulled ahead, following Rob and Fred
who’d set off earlier, thanks to their more

Day two – making our way through the lakes
rushed schedule. Mark and I, each stubbornly
paddling solo by preference, were a little slower.
I had brought my Ally 15DR folding canoe, and
so far, it had proven an excellent choice for this
terrain. Now I was paddling it on open water, its
least happy medium, but it was fine, a little slow
but very sea-worthy. Every now and then, the
cold, dark waters would reveal a huge boulder
below us, even when hundreds of metres off
shore, such is the nature of this large shallow
scrape in the Scandinavian hills. A couple of
hours later and we were entering the bay at
Rödviken, where another wind shelter made for
a comfortable, if slightly cramped, campsite.
Tonight was the last of the fresh food, so I
treated us to steak, onions, mushrooms and
potatoes, washed down with a little red wine,
known to us as ‘ballast’.
The thousand lakes
The next couple of days would be spent
exploring the remarkable area we refer to as the
‘Thousand Lakes’, one of the most notable
features of Rogen. This amazing landscape, under
the shadow of the hills, is basically a glacial
moraine, a mix of small scraped-out lakes
separated by hills, peninsulars and islands. First,
though, our toughest portage so far, an uphill
climb on a path littered with rocks and roots,
before levelling off as it approached the biggest
of the lakes, Öster Rödsjön. An hour or so later,
we were on the lake, and heading for our next
camp to make a base for a couple of nights and
give us time to explore without our heavy loads.
The maze of islands confused us slightly, and it took
back bearings on mountain summits to confirm our
position and help us to find our camp. Here an old
ThePADDLER 89

ThePADDLER 90
Day six – Dris recovering in the hut
Day three – Sami Lavvu at camp Day three – rocky portage to the Thousand Lakes

eindeer
Osprey
Day three – sunset reflections
ThePADDLER 91

ThePADDLER 92
Sami Lavvu and fire pit marked a spot used for
generations, and we quickly set up camp. This was a
stunning spot, on a long, thin, peninsula, between
the lakes of Väster and Oster Rödsjön. The views
across this landscape of water and stone, to the
snow-speckled mountains beyond, were magical.
We spent the rest of the day resting, doing chores,
or going for short paddles. On one solo
exploration, I suddenly had the feeling of being
watched, and looked up to find an osprey perched
in a tree eyeing me suspiciously. Another appeared,
and they circled, watching me. I suddenly realised I
was near their nest, and moved further away. One
returned to the nest, and then I realised there
were three birds, one a juvenile that had fledged.
Glad I hadn’t spooked them too much, I headed
off to explore more of the lakes and inlets, a
spellbinding landscape where the trees cling
precariously to the rocky mounds.
Returning to camp, we were treated to the most
amazing evening, the clear light of the arctic sun
softening towards dusk, too much of a temptation
for us not to have a stunning evening paddle on
the mirror-like water. Before bed, the Norse gods
offered us one last display of their power, the
most amazing sunset outlined against the hills, and
reflected in the mercury-like water of Rogen.
A rest day followed, where we simply explored
and lived in this wonderful landscape, before we
brought our side-excursion to the Thousand
Lakes to an end by heading back towards Lake
Rogen. This required an early start, as we needed
to hit the big lake before the wind rose, as was
typical each afternoon. Repeating our rough
portage to Rödviken, we were pleased to find
the waters were flat and calm, and paddled out
onto the vast lake before rounding a headland
and heading west. Our destination tonight was
Before bed, the Norse gods offered us one last display of their power,
the most amazing sunset outlined against the hills, and reflected in the
mercury-like water of Rogen

the west end of the lake, where the Norwegian
border lies, and our jumping off point for the
next stage of the journey. Paddling on this huge
expanse of water in flat-calm conditions was an
unforgettable experience, enhanced even
further when the black-throated divers started
their eerie calls as we rounded the point. Here
we stopped for lunch on a pile of rocks sticking
right out into the lake, a special place.
The breeze found us in the afternoon, and the last
couple of kilometres were a little harder work,
but soon enough we were at a large, popular
camping area with a small hut and a shelter.
Popular, in that we saw another person walk
though, and some kayak fishermen off-shore.
I’d wanted to get up high and see a view of the
landscape from above, so spent the rest of the
afternoon climbing a nearby hill, Bustvålen. This
felt properly remote, and I was conscious to take
extra care, alone in this wild landscape on
trackless, rock-strewn terrain, but I was
rewarded with an amazing panorama of lake,
rock, forest, mountains and sky. Looking ahead, I
could just about trace our onward journey
towards the huge Lake Femunden, a truly
massive 60km long lake that would make our
next target. First, though, we had the Roa river
system to descend, 20km of unknown travel on
lakes, on rivers, and no doubt, on foot. This 20km
would take us four days.
Rough times on the Roa
The map showed us the route ahead, and early
in the day we crossed into Norway. The customs
process was not difficult, what with this
happening 200 metres off the shore on our final
Rogen paddle. Now we were entering
Day three – sunset over Vaster Rödsjön
ThePADDLER 93

ThePADDLER 94
Carrying the big food bag, he’d slipped on a relatively simple
bit of path, and turned his ankle. Badly. It was unclear if
he’d be able to continue
Femundsmarka National Park, and after a short
portage out of the big lake, we found ourselves
at the start of what we expected to be the most
challenging part of the trip.
The Roa River links Rogen and Femunden, the
two huge lakes that dominate the region.
Dropping only a 100 metres or so, it’s a string of
small lakes and short river sections in its first
part, followed by a couple of bigger lakes. The
last part is all river, and we knew this would
include some impassable rapids, for it has the
largest proportion of the overall drop within a
few short kilometres.
Our first rapid was marked by one of the
trademark wooden suspension footbridges of
Scandinavia, and formed a grade 2 rapid of
about 50 metres in length. We ran it in turn, Paul
going solo as Dris gave safety cover below, it
being our first proper rapid of the trip. This was
followed by a wonderful series of lakes linked by
similar short modest rapids.
We were really enjoying ourselves now, reading
and running the rapids, or whoever was leading
hopping out for a quick inspection as required. This
was one of the highlights of the trip for me, proper
expedition travelling, not knowing what was
coming next, but finding amenable grade water, all
the time surrounded by this most amazing
landscape of trees, moss and lichen-clad rocks.
The next rapid was longer, the drop on the map
greater, and it was time for a proper inspection.
Walking, with difficulty, along the banks, it was
clear it was a step up in difficulty, and too much
for us to run in laden open canoes. A continuous
grade 3 at least, with more than a few rocks to
dodge. Time for a portage. By now we were

Day three – evening paddle
getting quite slick, each of us taking a trip with
personal bags first, and returning for the canoes
and communal food bags on the second leg. This
portage was only about 150 metres, and
followed a small path between the boulders.
It was on the second leg that it happened, just a
few metres from the end. Carrying my canoe on
my shoulders, I came across Dris’s load
abandoned by the trail; clearly something had
occurred. Reaching the put-in, we found Dris sat
on a rock in clear pain.
Carrying the big food bag, he’d slipped on a
relatively simple bit of path, and turned his ankle.
Badly. It was unclear if he’d be able to continue.
Being lunchtime, we stopped for an hour to give
him chance to recover a little. Everybody was a
little quiet, each of us pondering the
consequences of the injury, and whether Dris
would be able to move at all. We even wondered
if he’d broken it, and if so, that was likely to be the
end of the trip, other than finding a way to
extricate ourselves, call for help, or deploy the
‘SPOT’ emergency device that we carry.
Fortunately, Dris reckoned it was only a bad
sprain, but he could only just hobble about. I
helped him bind his ankle, deployed some
ibuprofen, and took stock. We were on the
shores of a kilometre-long lake, it was midafternoon,
and at the other end of the lake we
knew there was a hut marked on the map. We
decided to head for that, and have an early finish,
giving Dris time to recover a little before we
made any further decisions in the morning.
Rain clouds approached, matching our unsettled
mood, as we paddled the lake, the hut a clear
target in the distance, a real haven in the
ThePADDLER 95

ThePADDLER 96
Day six – starting the River Roa
Day five – perfect lunch spot
wilderness. Kløfthåbua was its name, one of the
Norwegian State huts that have welcomed many
a weary traveller before us, and it stood at the
start of the next portage, the perfect place for
us to spend the night.
As heavy rain arrived, we made ourselves at
home. The feeling of being in sheltered comfort,
with a fantastic wood stove and piles of logs to
hand, was a major relief and allowed us to take
time to relax and take stock. Dris was in slightly
less pain now, things were hopefully looking up.
We would see what the morning brought; either
we would continue with our journey, sharing the
load amongst the remaining fit members of the
group; or we would have to work out our
easiest escape, not an easy option as we were
pretty much at the furthest point on our trip
from any road.
[Part two in the winter issue]
Camp life

W E A R E A L L U N I Q U E .
W H Y S H O U L D N T O U R C A N O E S B E T H E S A M E ?
CUSTOM
CANOES
C O L O U R . O U T F I T T I N G . C O N S T R U C T I O N
S I L V E R B I R C H C A N O E S . C O M

ThePADDLER 98
MUSKOKA
R I V E R X R A C E
By Richard Harpham
In the last edition of the Paddler magazine,we updated you
with news that our roving reporter Richard Harpham, would
be taking part in the Muskoka River X Race – 80 miles of
wilderness paddling. His brief to investigate ‘Canadian Canoe
Culture’, a vision of Ontario’s Steve Bruno.
The Muskoka River X series is a brilliant series of traditional wilderness races by canoe, kayak or
SUP. Without doubt it is the most welcoming and friendly race I have competed in, with plenty of
encouragement and banter from competitors and supporters alike. There are different races
throughout the year with a 24-hour endurance race in circuits, as well as the Muskoka River X
Sprint and Classic, 50 and 80 miles respectively. The route has plenty of wilderness and tough
portages (waterfalls, dams and obstacles) to carry around.

ThePADDLER 99

ThePADDLER 100
Hap Wilson
I was racing with Hap Wilson, a Canadian
paddling icon, environmentalist and North
America’s best known guide. We had just an
hour-long warm up paddle together the day
before from Algonquin Outfitters at Oxtonge
Lake to Ragged Falls. Perfect preparation for an
80-mile race with 20 challenging portages,
paddling lakes, rivers during daylight and
darkness! We were kindly equipped with a brand
new Swift Canoe, 18ft 6 inch Kaywaidan racing
cruiser. The all carbon outfitting and carbon
Kevlar finish make for an excellent fast canoe,
which was incredible comfortable. Although not
an out and out racing canoe, we kept pace with
faster boats and overtook plenty.
It is fair to say that our approach to the race was
‘gentlemen racers’, which resulted in a tortoise
and hare approach, with fast cadence paddling
and overtaking following by leisurely portages,
planned food stops utilizing our stove and even
playing the harmonica. This might have reduced
our overall speed and record-breaking ability but
it did not diminish our enjoyment.
The 80-mile race follows the same course as the
50-miler before looping back in a giant
‘horseshoe’ shape back upstream. Only in
Canada would you paddle a race up and down
stream with portages up to 1,700 metres over
hills. It’s brilliant and changes your perspective on
new journeys across old lands. The race start
resembled a post apocalyptic scene with
paddlers racing across Fairy Lake, through mist
with an eerie sunlight.
The river section downstream was lovely with
some interesting portages around beautiful
waterfalls and other features. As we reached
Bracebridge at the 50-mile mark, it seemed we
were on the homeward leg. Paddling upstream
in the dark presented a few issues including
snapping a paddle on the rock garden in one
white water section (swifts). Hap was not
retreating and demanded I paddle harder, which
had little effect with the limp paddle. Eventually
we conceded and liberated the spare paddle.
Portaging the big dam, with its many steps and
inconvenient chest height barrier was a little
tricky to say the least.
Richard and Hap

On the trail portaging on the Muskoka River X
ThePADDLER 101

ThePADDLER 102

ThePADDLER 103

ThePADDLER 104
The final portage back onto Fairy Lake was
exciting, the end was in site despite the
pockets of heavy fog. A slight loss of bearings
meant we did a little detour following the
bright lights of the Tim Horton’s. But what
would you expect of gentlemen racers? We
retraced our tracks and arrived back to
Huntsville Dock pleased with our completed
mission.
Worth a mention, the post race banquet was a
continuation of the friendly community
approach – prizes and swag galore and plenty
of humour. Thanks to Algonquin Outfitters and
Randy Mitzen in particular for your brilliant
support and sponsorship. It was a brilliant
example of Canadian Canoe Culture to be
made to feel so welcome.
Hap and I placed 24th in the race, several
hours behind the winning crews of B49 (1st)
(Glen Dawson and Mike Vincent), 13 hours: 26
minutes, O.D on Paddling, (2nd) (Oliver
McMillan and Dean Brown), 14 hours: 10
minutes and Wolf Pack, (3rd) (Wilfred
McIntyre and Edouard McIntyre), 14 hours: 33
minutes. Well done to first C1 Solo (Patrick
Turner), 15 hours: 25 minutes, first kayak,
(Shawn Urban), 15 hours: 47 minutes and first
SUP (Mike Crouzat), 20 hours: 37 minutes.
Congratulations to Courtney Sinclair who
won the overall series competition with best
points over five races. Full results are available
at www.muskokariverx.com

COMPLETE CUSTOM BACKCOUNTRY CANOE TRIPS WITH PREMIUM GEAR AND CANOES BY SWIFT CANOE
Family owned, Algonquin Outfitters has been organizing great Canadian adventures since 1961
Reservations and information online at t www.algonquinoutfitters.com o or call 1-705-635-2243

ThePADDLER 106
TEMAGAMIA

Story: Richard Harpham
Photos: Ashley Kenlock and Hap Wilson
Our mission to explore and embrace Canadian Canoe Culture began with a trip to the world’s largest
canoe and kayak museum at Peterborough, Ontario, followed by paddling Algonquin Park and the beautiful
Hailstorm Creek with Randy from Algonquin Outfitters (we will share this in a future edition of the Paddler
magazine). Things then sped up a little with the 80-mile Muskoka River X unsupported wilderness race, see
previous feature – then came the ‘icing on the cake’ – exploring Temagami’s wilderness.
W I L D E R N E S S P A R A D I S E
ThePADDLER 107

ThePADDLER 108
One of the benefits of my world of adventure is meeting ‘my kind of people’
and it definitely felt like moments of serendipity and synchronicity meeting this
generous hearted husband and wife team
We were excited to explore Temagami, the
world’s largest pine forest, with Hap and
Andrea Wilson (and Oban their collie). Hap is
a mine of information and wrote the guide
books to this magical wilderness, documenting
the history, wildlife and trails throughout the
park and many other areas over a lifetime of
trail blazing.
One of the benefits of my world of adventure
is meeting ‘my kind of people” and it definitely
felt like moments of serendipity and
synchronicity meeting this generous hearted
husband and wife team. Sharing these slow
motion opportunities in life with such people is
one of the reasons we have chosen our
lifestyle and felt like the perfect retreat.
We arrived at Lakeland Airlines to find their
‘Beaver Float Plane’ tethered to the dock and
ready for action. Whilst you can access the
park by canoe it is a long way to Cabin Falls
Eco-Lodge so usually people fly to one of
several more convenient access points. Having
spent years on expeditions with float planes
landing and flying over me in Alaska and British
Columbia, I was truly buzzing to be flying into
the wilderness with our canoes strapped to
the struts.
Hap and Andrea departed first with a roar of
the engine, out over the lake system whilst we
waited checking out the Temagami Canoe
Company, founded in 1929, and the second
oldest in Canada still making cedar and canvas
Ash Kenlock, Oban the collie and Andrea Wilson on a portage.
The team inside the de Havilland Beaver.

Arriving at Bear Island
canoes. Before long we were strapped into the
little plane and powering down the lake, take-off.
It was exhilarating flying above the tree tops and
lakes of different sizes. We landed smoothly on a
lake literally in the middle of nowhere with a
60km paddle to Cabin Falls Eco Lodge our
mission. We loaded kit from the plane, standing
on the sponsens whilst basking in the warm sun.
Heavily laden with supplies and kit we headed
across the glimmering water.
Our transport was two brand new Swift
canoes, straight out of the factory using their
carbon Kevlar technology and all carbon
fittings. I have paddled a lot of boats in my time
but they are surely are the ‘Rolls-Royce’ of
canoes #acanoeforlife. One carried the
Canadian Maple Leaf flag celebrating 150 years
of independence. They were a joy to paddle
albeit with the burden of responsibility of
avoiding scrapes and scratches on the rapids.
ThePADDLER 109

ThePADDLER 110
The sunset transformed our camp,
showcasing the full repertoire of
vibrant colours,
as we swapped stories of trips and
adventures nestled by the camp fire
Lining the canoe. Photo: Ash Kenlock

Giant tranquil paradise
We made land quickly, literally a mile or so later
full of paddling promise. Darren the pilot had
departed leaving us with the deep peace of this
giant tranquil paradise. We crossed a small sandy
spit forensically investigating an old cabin, loitering
another year and waiting for some much needed
TLC. Onward we paddled, towards one of those
beautiful wild campsites inviting adventurous types
with its large ancient rocky shelf. We accepted the
invite and made camp. Hap and Andrea came into
their own with a host of tasty morsels fit for any
banquet. I am pleased we brought the MSR Elixir2
tent with its geodetic design as it stood proud on
the rocky outcrop.
Given the ‘Indian summer’ and our sweaty attire,
we opt for the obvious solution and embarked
on the first of many memorable wild swims on
Florence Lake. It is said that you can see almost
60ft below the surface with its crystal clear
waters. This one was orchestrated in shifts as we
‘skinny dipped’ and swam around the bays and
temples of rock, completely free in the moment.
The sunset transformed our camp, showcasing
the full repertoire of vibrant colours, as we
swapped stories of trips and adventures nestled
by the camp fire. Already away from digital inputs
and demands, we were reconnecting with our
inner dreams and ideas.
Morning brought more culinary delights with
waffles and local maple syrup heated on the
reflector oven and ‘cowboy coffee’. The mist over
the water burnt off quickly as the sun declared its
intent to stay golden. More reflections, on the
water and within ourselves, as we paddled along
winding marshland, smaller lakes and connecting
rivers. Periodically, we reached a portage trail
around rapids or waterfalls. It was bizarre how a
calm lake would transform into a raging torrent of
white water with little or no warning. Certainly
the relief and terrain was not sharing this ancient
knowledge. The portages were traditionally
Canadian in style with large boulder fields and
uneven trails often hundreds of metres.
Trekking through the scrub
We quickly became adept at balancing the
lightweight Swift Canoes on our heads (well
shoulders) and trekking through the scrub. Some
rapids were runnable, although the carbon shiny
boats and ‘boney waters’ made this a slightly more
nerve racking experience. Reading the water is a
skill like riding a bike and we were soon running
chutes and ‘swifts’ confidently. Our next campsite
was chosen for its vantage point over a rapid. Our
team work and routine was synchronized into a
smooth operation to light the fire, make camp
and cook. Then came obligatory wild swim
Wild swimming. Photo: Ash Kenlock
The three musketeers, Hap, Rich and Alex. Photo: Hap Wilson
Garter snake at Cabin Falls. Photo: Ash Kenlock
ThePADDLER 111

ThePADDLER 112
Lily pad reflections. Photo: Ash Kenlock
followed the hot day’s paddle. There was a slightly
amusing moment as I filmed the event for the
obligatory edit and received a nip on the toes
from a passing crayfish defending its territorial
waters. All sense of pride and ceremony was lost
as I flailed around.
Cabin Falls Eco-lodge
The warm weather highs stayed with us as we
paddled on towards Cabin Falls on our holy grail
of paddling trips. More portages, rapids, beautiful
scenery and great company made us feel blessed
to be in this wild paradise. We lined a couple of
rapids (a traditional skill using bow and stern
ropes to guide the canoes) through the fast
turbulent water. Finally one last portage and we
would reach our destination. Nothing could have
prepared me for the incredible setting and
scenery of Cabin Falls Eco-lodge on Lady Evelyn
River. I have travelled and explored many places
around the world but this surely was the most
idyllic and yet rugged home from home – ever.
The original cabin (the only one in the park for 60
square miles) was built in 1931 by Americans and
then maintained by two brothers and the ‘Dirty
Dozen’ club. Hap and Andrea have painstakingly
added to the original cabin with three additional
cabins, boardwalks over the falls and various
home comforts including a wood burning sauna.
The plunge pool is the ever-present waterfall with
its grumbling undertones and mesmerizing
glistening flows. This became our personal
swimming pool along with riding some sections
and chutes in rubber rings and inner tubes.
Detox and retune
Cabin Falls Eco-lodge seeps into your relaxed
psyche and delivers a perfect venue to escape,
detox and retune your priorities. Slowing down
without the modern distractions, allowed us to
unwind and achieve a rare peace and balance in
our lives. Our agenda was simplicity itself, to
explore by foot, on water and wild swimming
sharing good food, conversation and time with
our new close friends. Inspired by the waterfall
swimming, we embarked on our next mission to
Another lovely ash canoe portage. Photo: Ash Kenlock
Waffles a la reflector oven Photo: Ash Kenlock
explore the Lady Evelyn North Channel and
South Channels for more places to swim. It
literally put the ‘wild’ into ‘wild swimming’.
We also took time to hike the many trails
guarded by large red and white pines often
peppered with moose scat, as they opted for the
same paths. The array of fungi and wild
mushrooms was incredible with the forest

carpeted with so many different species. One of
our favourite swim spots was at the aptly named
Leap of Faith where the flow from the Helen
Falls is channeled into a series of pools. If you
search hard enough, there is a suitable ledge
above the pool offering a spot to leap into the
cool inviting waters. After a bit of scrambling, I
was standing on the ledge searching my memory
banks for the switch to enable to me to jump off
and suppress my fears. Switch flicked, pride
restored and I was free falling.
Sacred Spirit Rock. Photo: Ash Kenlock
Nipping crayfish
The next few days formed the most perfect
retreat, with our mission to wild swim as many
locations as possible as well as hiking the river and
mountain trails flanking the cabin. We paddled
further downstream to swim under the Bridal Veil
Fall, which became a mission dodging more
nipping crayfish from below and the vigorous
shower from above. We all however, found a
peace that we had been missing with busy lives.
One of the most remarkable chapters in the
evolution of the area and cabin is to
remembering that Hap and Andrea had been
instrumental in saving this incredible area from
clear cut logging. What a legacy! Also incredible
and worth a mention is that everything that has
made Cabin Falls a deeply spiritual retreat was
transported there by float plane and then by
canoe and human portage. Many tons of
equipment and materials, including fridges, stoves
and mattresses were carried there by blood,
sweat and tears – an incredible feat.
Lake Orbabika
Our trip was coming to an end. We had
extended our family finding kindred spirits, in
Hap and Andrea (check out his guide books and
new novel ‘River of Fire’) and we witnessed
some incredible wilderness that they helped
save. Our final stop was to fly to Lake Orbabika
(place of the smooth rocks) by float plane to
visit Alex Mathias, a First Nation elder who
shared his stories around the campfire growing
up in Bear Island. It was fitting knowing we were
paddling with his blessing on his people’s
traditional lands. Alex is the last fluent speaking
member of his people (Ojibwa), which provided
a sombre and poignant reminder of the price of
progress of the modern world.
Alex had also been a key activist in protecting the
forest from decimation. We paddled across the
Orbabika Lake to explore a rough trail with huge
Cabin Falls. Photo: Ash Kenlock
ThePADDLER 113

ThePADDLER 114
Andrea and Oban at the waterfall
pines including the three sisters. The route led to
Chee-Skon-Abikong (Spirit,Rock), the place of
huge rock lake. The Rock, a jagged pillar of rock
standing guard against a crumbling cliff face. There
was a small sting in the tail as the wind picked up
requiring us to bay hop and traverse back to Alex
against strong winds and waves. Our time in this
sacred and spiritual place was over, for now.
We dipped our silver wings and roared back
over the tree tops leaving this Temagami firmly
lodged in our hearts. We will be back running
retreats for our own customers in future to help
share this place in a respectful and authentic way.
We came to find Canadian Canoe Culture and
left overflowing with inspiration and warmed
hearts for new paddling expeditions and trips.
We had the privilege to paddle and share the
trip with many incredible pioneers and outdoor
people including Steve Bruno and Trish, the army
of racers in the Muskoka River X, Randy and
Lynne from Algonquin Outfitters and of course
Hap, Andrea and Oban who shared their world
with us. The journey doesn’t end here, it is
merely a rest stop before paddling on.
Temagami, Ontario is an accessible wilderness
paradise located a few hours north of Toronto.
Perfect for paddlers from the UK and Europe
wanting to explore and witness, some of the most
incredible wildlife and countryside in Canada.
Bios
Richard Harpham is a human powered adventurer and
inspirational speaker who has completed over 9,000 miles of
expeditions by kayak, canoe, bike and on foot including
exploring the Yukon, cycling the Sahara and Canada’s Inside
Passage. At home he runs www.canoetrail.co.uk, a
watersports and adventure business with his wife Ashley in
Bedfordshire providing qualifications, canoe camping,
coaching and paddling trips to some of the UK’s and world’s
best locations. He is the editor of Bushcraft and Survival
Magazine and writes for Outdoor Adventure Guide and
Paddler magazine. His adventures are supported by: Flint
Group, Paramo Clothing, Olympus Cameras, Silver Birch
Canoes, Bamboo Clothing, MSR, Canadian Affair, Osprey
Rucksacks, Reed Chillcheater and Exposure Lights.
Follow Rich on his adventures
@myrichadventure www.richadventure.com
Hap Wilson is a prolific writer, wilderness explorer and canoe
guide. A former park ranger and outfitter Hap and his wife
Andrea run Cabin Falls Eco-Lodge and eco trail building in
Ontario. Hap has been a driving force in saving many areas of
prime pine forest as an environmental activist and had
written many guide books sharing his knowledge of over
60,000kms of wilderness paddling by canoe, on foot and
snow shoe. Hap is a self taught writer, photographer and
artist and is one of North America’s best known wilderness
guides. Hap received the Bill Mason Award for services to
conservation. Hap is supported by Swift Canoes. Hap’s latest
book was released recently, a novel entitled ‘River of Fire’.
You can follow Hap and Andrea at
www.hapwilson.com
Cabin Falls Eco Lodge

C A N O E | K A Y A K | S T A N D U P P A D D L E B O A R D
W I L D C A M P I N G | A D V E N T U R O U S A C T I V I T I E S
Develop Your Adventurous Side with Canoe Trail..
Iconic paddling
trips
Canoe & kayak
expeditions
Scottish Wilderness
Canoe Trips
Yukon canoe expeditions
Courses & professional
qualifications
Our Adventure
School
Canoeing Trips to the River
Spey, Severn & Tweed
• Canoe, Kayak & SUP Hire
• Wild camping at Matchstick Wood
• Multi Day Trips & Bushcraft Skills
• Kids Parties, Stag/Hen Do’s & Corporate Events
• British Canoeing & 1st Aid Qualifications
• Canoe & Kayak Expeditions
T: 01234 825499
T: 07710 616520
E: info@canoetrail.co.uk

ThePADDLER 116
E X P L O R I N G
SCOTTISH
By Richard Harpham
In the second in the series about paddling areas of the Scottish wilderness, humanpowered
adventurer Richard Harpham shares some more of his favourite
locations in Scotland by canoe. This time it’s Scottish lochs under the spotlight.
I have just returned from another paddling trip to Scotland to replenish my need for wilderness
paddling, big vistas and stunning landscapes. It was our bi-annual ‘Best of Scotland’ paddling trip and
this one was equally fantastic with challenging whitewater, new locations and world-class paddling
destinations.
Scotland is famous for its lochs (and whisky), teeming with inland fresh waters and integrated sea
lochs stretching around its rugged coastline. There is plenty to explore and escape from the over
crowded pressure cooker of modern life.

LOCHS
ThePADDLER 117

ThePADDLER 118
Loch Ness & River Ness
Although part of the Great Glenn Canoe Trail
Loch Ness can be paddled as a shorter half day
or day trip to tackle this iconic location. Just last
week she allowed us safe passage despite the
Force 3-4 winds. Given its 26-mile length and
moody disposition, even the lightest breeze can
create significant waves. Stay close to shore and
ensure you have the right equipment and
experience for the conditions. We launched
from friendly pub and beach site at Dores and
headed into the wind on a suitable course.
After a slightly rough ride we turned downwind to
enjoy surfing down the two-foot waves towards
Loch End. Our Silverbirch canoes and us enjoyed
the work out, catching wave after wave
accelerating each time to maximize the ride.
Behind the stony spit likes the often overlooked
Loch Dochfour, which splits into the ongoing
original canal or the River Ness. We rigged a jury
rig sail (impromptu sail) harnessing the ‘fetch’ at the
top of Loch Ness and then enjoyed a full spread
picnic in our rafted canoe on Loch Dochfour.
We arrived at the weir accessing the River Ness
and after a quick scout ran the right hand side
adjacent the small sluice. Be aware in higher
flows this may require a portage as it can have a
full stopper and be extremely dangerous. The
meandering flow was a welcome addition and
our mixed group of coaches and novices
enjoyed the new challenge. The River Ness is a
brilliant intro river with a series of small weirs
and chutes that can be run in low water or
portaged. Just before Inverness, adjacent a lovely
looking house (mansion), is a small fish weir with
decent wave train running. This caused some
excitement amongst the group with their first
experience of bigger waves in a canoe.
We finished the trip adjacent the car park/skate
park near Bught Park Pitches and returned to
Dores to shuttle kit and vehicles. We stopped in
to the Dores Inn and ordered drinks to say
thanks for allowing us access from their beach.
islets and islands is a real treat and of course
‘leaving no trace’ rules apply.
Isle Maree tucked away among 65 islands, has
the remains of an old chapel, graveyard and holy
well. It is believed to be the 8th century
hermitage of Saint Mael Ruba (d. 722), who
founded the monastery of Applecross in 672.
The same island contains ancient stands of oak
and holly which have been linked with Scottish
Druids. There is also the ‘money tree’ with coins
dating back over 150 years. Queen Victoria
visited the Loch in 1877 which led to the naming
of a waterfall on the south side, Victoria Falls (it is
slightly smaller than the African version).
We paddled and camped this at New Year and
again in October to enjoy the autumnal colours,
each time exploring a little more. We took the
opportunity to feast on tasty campfire delicacies
and of course sampling the whisky with friends
telling tales of ‘daring do’. The loch definitely has
a magical quality and we went to sleep listening
to stags bark at each other. The next morning we
braved the icy waters for a wild swim, which
definitely took the breath away with a vigorous
dip. Breakfast was waffles and Canadian Maple
syrup brought specially from our recent Ontario
Trip. It was perfect and that morning we saw
several stags as we trekked around the larger
islands in search of the ‘loch within a loch’.
Loch Ness & River Ness
https://goo.gl/maps/TRFsXsDNtSC2
Diane and Aaron enjoying a river section.
Loch Maree
https://goo.gl/maps/ujmSM2YrZik
Loch Maree
Loch Maree is one of my favourite places to
paddle in the world with its folklore, ancient
history and beautiful setting. Loch Maree is in
Wester Ross in the north west Highlands
flanked by an impressive Munro named Slioch,
which resembles a craggy fortress. It is the forth
largest fresh water loch in Scotland and 12 miles
in length with a collection of islands including a
nature reserve. Camping here amongst the small

The graveyard on Isle Maree Exploring Loch Maree The money tree, Isle Maree
Surfing on Loch Ness
ThePADDLER 119

ThePADDLER 120
Loch Morar
Loch Morar is located in Lochaber on the
western side of Scotland in the highlands and
offers a mix of classic canoe paddling with islands,
an 11.7 mile length and a portage route that is
challenging to say the least. There are beautiful
little islands offering shelter and wild camping at
the western end of the loch. The portage at
Tarbet connects your journey to out onto the sea
loch Nevis and is just over 1km. Our last visit we
used the islands as shelter and lee paddling to
escape the huge gusts and prevailing gales.
Once on Loch Nevis an easterly route will take
you through narrows at Kyleknoysdart to sandy
beaches 8km away with a small bothy at
Sourlies. Heading west means increasing open
water down towards Inverie. Further round the
coast is Mallaig a beautiful coastal town popular
with sailors as well as port for the Cal Mac
(Caledonian Macbrayne) Ferries. Mallaig is a
great place to ‘kick back’ and enjoy the local
culture. I have enjoyed Hogmanay with local folk
bands in Mallaig as well as stunning paddling.
Loch Shiel
Loch Shiel has been made a popular tourist
attraction by virtue of the viaduct, featuring in a
certain Harry Potter book and film series, as well
as the Glenfinnan Jacobite monument. The young
prince, ‘Bonny Prince Charlie’ raised his standard
on the shore in 1745. The history of trade,
exploration and voyages dates significantly
further back than that, with one of the most
popular wilderness canoe trips in Scotland being
the Shiel Circuit. There are no roads for almost
33kms of the loch’s length and plenty of wildlife
with otters, eagles and pine martins in residence.
Although parts of the river system may be
navigable in low waters this may involve longer
portages that you envisage.
This loch has also featured as inspiration for much
of the work of artist Rob Campbell (my DW and
Yukon River Quest team mate) for his sculpture
and paintings (www.robhoustoncampbell.com).
Loch Moidart to the north on the return leg of
the circuit, has wild camp sites on islands and
other places to call home.
Our last visit coincided with heavy weather with
a force 6 gusting 7 blowing down the loch. We
battled out in ‘teeth chattering’ conditions,
literally planting the paddle to hold station
before eventually conceding to the fierce
elements and flying back to the start point. Our
retreat complete we ventured up the small river
feeding the loch and practiced our poling and
subbing in the flows (poling and snubbing are
traditional canoe skills using a pole to move up
and downstream in rapids, swifts and moving
water).
Loch Linnhe
Loch Linnhe is a classic sea loch stretching up
from the sea town of Oban and the Firth of
Lorne 32 miles or so up to the Highland hub of
Fort William. Paddling from Kinlochleven through
the narrows at Ballachulish can be a mind
boggling experience on the ebb tide as eddies
and swirling waters aim to spin you around. The
bridge at Ballachulish with the Pap of Glencoe
and the Aonach Eagach Ridge makes a
picturesque back drop.
The Corran Ferry requires a bit of cat and
mouse as you head up towards the larger sea
lock at Corpach (north of Fort William)
signalling the start of the Caledonian Canal. I
have played Gran Mother’s footsteps with local
seals around this stretch of water on many
occasions. Remember if you are canoeing on a
sea loch make sure the conditions suit the craft
you are in. The western end can be extremely
challenging and is open to the force of swells
from the Irish Sea and Atlantic.
I have canoed and kayaked on this beautiful loch
and on its day it offers great paddling with
incredible mountains flanking the loch.
General paddling rules apply
With all paddling in the Highlands be respectful
of other users and local people. If you are using
access points and car parks from local pubs,
hotels and sites then make sure you ‘pay
forward’ their kindness by spending some
money. Equally leave no trace, minimize your
impact and don’t block access ways.
It is worth remembering that inland and sea lochs
can behave like small seas, so make sure you
paddle within your experience for the conditions.
Longer lochs have significant ‘fetch’ and journeying
far from shore can be dangerous. Make sure you
have checked the weather forecast and have the
right clothing and equipment for the day and
season. The old adage, “There is no such thing as
cold weather just the wrong clothing” applies.
Hopefully you have begun to get a flavour of the
world-class paddling on offer in Scotland. See you
on the water. Rich

Loch Morar
https://goo.gl/maps/WMSRGz4XFtr
Loch Shiel
https://goo.gl/maps/sQu4ba5YqdJ2
Poling on the river feeding Loch Shiel
Loch Linnhe
https://goo.gl/maps/G6HF9k9uYoq
Exploring Loch Morar
BEST OF SCOTLAND CANOE TRIP
The next ‘Best of Scotland’ trips are running in spring and autumn 2018 for small groups looking to develop their adventurous
side. Prices start at £599 (early bird offer) for the week including accommodation, equipment, food and coaching.
Visit www.canoetrail.co.uk or contact the team @ info@canoetrail.co.uk or 01234 825499
ThePADDLER 121

ThePADDLER 122
H O W H A R D C A N I T B E ?
ADIDAS

SICKLINE
2 0 1 7
By Steffan Meyric Hughes
Photos: C. Waldegger, D. Benedetto and J. Klatt
All Sickline attempts start with an idle moment online, debit
card in hand. You pay a little over £100, which gets you entry
to the race and events, as well as five meals, a tee-shirt a
goody bag, free massage, race insurance and more. You tick
the box that says you are an ‘expert grade five kayaker’ or
something like that then, if you’re me at least, fool yourself
that you’re going to do some ‘training’ before spending the
rest of the summer farting about in your playboat at the
Lee Valley Legacy course.
ThePADDLER 123

ThePADDLER 124
Google
Meanwhile, your nearest and dearest will have a
Google of what you’re going to be up to for a
week in October. Technically difficult – and
DANGEROUS! Every little mistake has
CONSEQUENCES! The Eiger North Wall of
kayaking! Grade SIX! It’s the sort of hyperbole
that’s pretty much required by a major event
these days, but you try explaining this and she
(statistically it will be a ‘she’) won’t believe you.
Of course, any event is going to make a strong
case for itself, particularly to the non-paddling
public (the Sickline gets considerable air time on
TV around the world), so it’s understandable.
And, as Olaf Obsommer, event founder, points
out, grade 5-6 is the guidebook description for
this section, and it wouldn’t be much fun if the
organisers claimed five and the insurers found
mention of six.
Gross exaggeration
I heard paddlers refer to it rather differently:
“two boofs and a load of flat” and “grade 4+ at
most.” Seeing a group of paddlers tackle it in
playboats on YouTube and watching the 2016
low-water videos, along with the fact that
paddlers are prone to gross exaggeration, was
enough to satisfy me that the truth would lie
somewhere between the two extremes, and
four of us (Mike, Tom, me, with Rob coming
along for the ride – all playboaters) decided to
find out what it was all about.
My ambitions were not high: running the qualies
and enjoying a week in Austria were as far as it
went. My training for the event even consisted of
a single session in my brand-new creek boat,
Pyranha’s forgiving Machno, on the Lee Valley
Olympic Course. It is clearly a great boat; loads
of rocker and volume to keep you on top of
things, comfortable with straightforward,
effective outfitting, and just enough rail on the
chine to break in and out. You can pretty much
drift down the Olympic course in it if you like –
it’s that forgiving. Best of all, it weighs in at under
22kg, as I found out at the Sickline boat-weighing
station, which resembles a sex swing for kayaks.
Mike, sponsored by Jackson, had one go in a
borrowed Jackson Nirvana, pronounced it a
good’un and got straight back in his playboat.
Tom didn’t try out his (26kg!) Dagger Mamba,
borrowed from his dad, at all.
As the four of us – Mike, Tom, Rob and me – drove
through France, Belgium, Luxembourg and
Germany en route to our final destination, the
Tyrolean village of Oetz in the Austrian Alps, the
texts started pinging in from those already there.
They spoke of heaving levels and multiple swims.
With the gauge reading between 185 and 192, just
a centimetre short of the level where they cancel
the race (193), this was not going to be a pooldrop
year on the well-known Wellerbrucke section.
With the gauge reading between 185 and 192, just a
I wasn’t alone, when first having a look from the
crowded bank, to feel a little queasy at the
thought of running it. A 20ft-high ramp leads into
an easy section called Mandatory Left, which is
followed by a flat pool before the course’s crux –
the TNT Cataract. This leads into the two bestknown
features on the course: Champions’ Killer
Minus One, a surging, bouncy hole, and
Champions’ Killer, a 10ft-high angled drop into flat
water, quickly followed by a narrow, boily passage
between the left wall of the gorge and a huge
mid-river boulder, known as Exit Slot. After that
it’s a sprint to the finish line down a rock-strewn
section that marks the start of the slalom course.
The free meals were very
good, heavy on meat and
satisfying after a cold day
on the river.

centimetre short of the level where they
cancel the race (193),
this was not going to be a pool-drop year on the well-known Wellerbrucke section.
ThePADDLER 125

ThePADDLER 126
We saw one woman take Minus One on the right,
to find herself with her boat
snatched away from
underneath her as though sucked to the
centre of the earth

Very nervous
Grades are hard for paddlers to agree on, but
think mostly G3/4, with a G5 section (TNT) and
some big, technical but relatively consequencefree
G4 (Minus One and Champions). It was big
enough to make most there to feel very nervous
but went nowhere near some of the deranged
things we’d read about it and we were seeing it
at one of the highest levels the Sickline has been
run on. At peak snow melt in summer, the
glacier-fed run must be monstrous.
We watched as the world’s best paddlers did
laps, and the nervous, those who’d come to this
arena and found themselves wanting, wandered
pale-faced, palms sweating, bile rising in the
throat. We saw one woman take Minus One on
the right, to find herself with her boat snatched
away from underneath her as though sucked to
the centre of the earth. It reappeared a full five
seconds later. It was hardly confidence-inspiring,
but most seemed to be getting through it alive.
As a mediocre playboater and occasional riverrunner
I found the qualification course (Minus
One, Champions Exit Slot and a couple of
hundred metres of the G3 slalom course
below), a good, fun challenge, failing every time
to hit a great line and flipping in half my runs, but
not taking any beatings.
After seeing more than a few paddlers swim
from their boats while safely out of the feature
and even one slapper (one who slaps the
surface with the blade before rolling up –
beginners’ stuff), I have a new theory about
whitewater paddlers in general, and it is this:
slalom paddlers and river runners/creekers don’t
always capsize enough to have bulletproof rolls.
The former category are busy perfecting their
speed and turns on easier water, while the latter,
in very challenging water, must avoid situations
that will make them swim.
Plan ‘A’ and Plan ‘B’ paddlers
Of course, the good paddlers in any discipline will
have their roll well sorted, but at an amateur level,
slalomists and creekers are ‘Plan A’ paddlers, who
read the river well and take a good line but are
simply too unaccustomed to being upside down
to be comfortable rolling in all conditions, every
time. Playboaters and surf kayakers, even
mediocre ones, spend half their time on the water
upside down, and their rolls become developed
beyond the level of the rest of their paddling.
These paddlers might be less adept at getting
down a river or seeing the best line, but they are
great ‘Plan B’ people; when the shit hits the fan, the
playboater will roll up, somehow.
The drill for the qualies is to line your boats up
in bib order, then to take them down some
steep steps to the launching platform, the feeling
of nerves quite palpable as you wait for your
turn. You hear a race coordinator say into his
mic, “40 on the course, 41 in the eddy” then he
says, “you’re good” and it’s on.
It’s an easy ferry to river left, then almost
immediately Minus One, a short, turbulent
stopper where you fight to stay left so you don’t
get pushed into the rocks just under the surface
on right, where many paddlers took a submerged
thumping before rolling up or swimming, then into
Champions’, where you hope you boof properly,
or you can get endered out vertically (most
likely), back looped or worked in the hole. One
thing to bear in mind, when you watch Sickline on
YouTube is that the boof on Champions is harder
than it looks! The paddlers keeping their boats
perfectly flat are likely the best paddlers in the
world, and even they occasionally got it wrong.
Having said that, we didn’t see anyone take a real
beating in there. After that it’s left through the
awkward, boily, narrow exit slot (again, trickier
than it looks) then 200m or so of read-and-run
G3 to the takeout.
ThePADDLER 127

ThePADDLER 128
Training days
The qualification course was enough for me at
these high levels: around half the paddlers there
were opting out of the entire course, due to the
TNT section, particularly in the light that the
safety team are not present for the training days
(it’s too expensive). After some deliberation,
Mike ran the whole course. To our
disappointment, he was fine. He has never
swum, and I had half-hoped he might do it here,
with a humiliating man hug rescue from one of
the many live bait guys lining then banks (the
safety here is brilliant). Mike’s one run down the
main course gave him 129th place out of 175.
Only the top 52 men going through. If I tell you
that Peter Csonka, ex-freestyle champion, only
just made the grade, that will give an idea of
how stiff the competition here is.
Tom provided far more entertainment, taking
four runs down the qualifier section, each one
seemingly more comically awful than the one
before it. On his last, the crowd erupted in
cheers as he finally rolled up for the umpteenth
time just as he crossed the finishing line upside
down. Rob, Mike and I sighed in
disappointment, having hoped for a swim. In all
seriousness though, Tom showed some bravery
in going out and getting battered again and
again, and always rolling up. That’s what I mean
about the playboater thing. The other thing
about this is that the qualification course,
although a stiff, intimidating challenge, is still a
place where you can laugh about swims.
On Friday night, the Big O movie night showed
a short film of Bren Orton’s first descent of
Norway’s steep, long creek, Megatron, and a fulllength
film of some massive-volume expedition
paddling in Pakistan – Into the Indus. We
checked in at the well-named Losers’ Party on
the way home. An angry, disappointed paddler…
an eponymous loser if you like… stood outside,
and angrily kicked a can against the wall as we
walked past, while a few peers inside sipped
beer quietly. We enjoyed this spectacle almost as
much as the empassioned young man who
nearly burst into tears at seeing his result that
day, but we passed the party by, returning to our
rented flat to watch Enter the Dragon and
engage in puerile, vacuous banter until bedtime,
an art we are well versed in.
Finals day saw the level drop slightly to the high
180s, still a chunky level, and the sun out.
Favourites to take it, with double British winner
Joe Morley out of the running, were three-times
NZ winner Sam Sutton; US phenomenon Dane
Jackson, whose achievements in kayaking are so
broad and numerous that he has to be counted
as a contender in whatever he enters; last year’s
winner, the Catalonian paddler Aniol Serrasolses
and the 2015 winner, his brother Gerd.
Winners
In the end Dane took the all-time course record
in 53.8 seconds in the semis. But in the final,
where it counted, Sam put in a good run of 54.9s
to be crowned the 2017 Sickline men’s winner,
for an amazing fourth time. It must have felt
good, after having lost out to Catalonian paddler
Aniol Serrasolses last year by just a hundredth of
a second. In the women’s race, Nouria Newman
beat her nearest rival by two seconds to take
the crown for the first time.
“I was struggling in the high water levels,” Sam
Sutton told Paddler magazine as he stepped off
the podium, a modest statement profoundly
belied by his run. I had a few minutes with race
director Mike Hammel, who told me that
inclusivity is a big part of the Sickline. “It’s not F1”
he told me. “You can’t win it with money,” a point
underlined by a survey conducted during this
year’s event, where a two-thirds majority voted
against carbon boats in the race.
A slightly harder question to answer is how
the event can call itself the world
championship of extreme kayaking, when there
are other races that are more challenging (like
the North Fork or Green River) and in some
cases have been around longer than the decade
Sickline has been running for.

In the women’s race,
Nouria Newman
beat her nearest rival by two seconds
RESULTS
Men
1. Sam Sutton
(NZ) 54.9
2. Aniol Serrasolses
(ESP) 55.2
3. Alexander Grimm
(GER) 55.4
Women
1. Nouria Newman
(FRA) 1.01.8
2 Martina Wegman
(NED) 1.04.8
3. Jennifer Chrimes
(GBR) 1.09.4
ThePADDLER 129

ThePADDLER 130
His answer, to paraphrase, is about the event’s
prominence: it received a claimed 2,400 hours of
global TV coverage, including on airlines and
Austrian national TV, where a local paddler told
me it was also one of the main items on the news
while it was happening. Kayak manufacturers build
boats specially to win it. And it is probably the best
known of the competitions. But the real answer is
in the calibre of participants: this is the race that
the world’s best paddlers come to. The great
achievement is its inclusivity, a word that Michael
used. This is an event run largely by its participants
for its participants, and anyone can have a go. Just
don’t expect to qualify, unless you’re a local hero
or international name.
You want to
do Sickline?
The first thing you might wonder is: am I
good enough? I hope this article has made it
clearer, but if in doubt, go. If you find yourself
wanting, (many of us did this year), there is a nice
G3 section below the course to run, not to
mention plenty of other runs in the area, and
you should at least manage the qualification
course which looks a lot scarier than it is. You will
still get to enjoy the movie night, parties, meals
and spectating.
Book well in advance: Sickline was sold out at
least three months before the race this year.
Photography: if you plan on taking photos/video
of your friends (important, as the official
photographers and videographers don’t catch
everyone), a 50-200mm telephoto zoom or
equivalent focal range would be ideal, as you can’t
get as close to the action as you might hope.
Spend more than one hour in the boat
you plan to use for the event! Practise your
boof until it’s confident and consistent. Do some
strength and endurance paddling if you are in it to
try to qualify. If you don’t spend half your time in a
kayak upside down (playboaters and surf
paddlers!), then bomb-proof your roll, including
off-side, back-deck and hands, if you don’t already.
Take solid, grippy, comfortable shoes, preferably
boots with some ankle support – there is a lot
of clambering around on rough boulders, and
long portages.
Make sure your PFD, helmet and boat are
approved (the event website is quite clear on this).
Transport: we drove there and back. It’s about
11-12 hours from Calais to Oetz, and free of all
toll charges if you choose that option, which is a
no-brainer, as it’s probably quicker than the toll
option. This, along with of-peak ferry deals for
about £50 return, makes it a very cheap trip.
Speed limits, particularly in Germany, land of the
contra-flow, are variable, so watch out. We saw
nothing of the much-vaunted autobahns, and if you
see a red light in your rearview, you’ve been done
by a speed cam, but apparently fines are very
reasonable if they materialize at all – we’ll see!
Accommodation: another bargain, as it’s offpeak
time in the Tyrolean Alps, which thrive on
winter sports. We paid about £150 for seven
nights in a passable self-catering apartment with
two double rooms, within boat-carrying distance
of the course.
Boat lugging: if you are not concerned about
cultivating a heroic persona, consider a small boat
trolley – we calculated that Mike carried his 20kg+
Jackson Nirvana two miles on his shoulder on the
first day’s training runs. Why bother? At the very
least, have a thick sponge to slip under the
shoulder strap of your PFD.

Passion for paddlesports?
Share your knowledge & experience with our guests!
We’re looking for energetic people to work with us in 2018 to ensure our guests
have the time of their lives.
Canoeing has been at the heart of PGL since 1957 and we have long recognised
this sport as a great way to introduce children to the outdoors. We offer a variety
of opportunities for qualified paddlers to introduce canoeing and kayaking to our
guests. If you're a qualified UKCC Level 1 or UKCC Level 2 Coach or above,
you'll be able to lead sessions in addition to consolidating your instructional skills,
accumulating log book time and working towards higher level qualifications.
The variety of our centre locations means there’s plenty of chances to paddle
during your free time, from flat to moving water. We offer a competitive wage,
meals and free uniform; accommodation is provided, plus transport from a UK
departure point for staff working in France or Spain.
Find out more and apply now...
www.pgl.co.uk/paddle
@pglstaff /pglstaff

ThePADDLER 132
Special thanks to…
Jackson, Pyranha, Mitchell Blades,
Square Rock and Immersion
Research. And last but not least,
those who make it happen: Mike
Hamel, Sonja Guldner-Hamel, Olaf
Obsommer, the safety guys, and
everyone else who gives their time
to make Sickline what it is.

T H E E X P L O S I V E
H I S T O R Y O F
SICKLINE
Taken from conversations with event founder Olaf Obsommer
In 2005, there were plans up for a huge
dam project to take all the water from
the Oetz river and pump it to the
Kaunertal. Olaf and friends staged a big
protest in the summer of that year, with
500 kayakers showing up. The highlight
was kayaking the Oetz by night through
the village Soelden holding flaming
torches. “It was an impressive and really
emotional moment” Olaf remembers.
“In 2006 we stopped doing those protests, thinking it
would be more effective to do extreme races instead,
as they are easier to sell to the media to show the
world the beauty of this river and its valley.
“In the summer 2006 we did an invitational boater
cross on the Soelden cataracts at high water for 50
competitors, then we had the idea to start another
extreme race in the fall on the famous
Wellerbruecken rapids…”
One vantage point
The Wellerbrucke rapids, home of Sickline, were
chosen for many reasons. Firstly, you can watch the
start and finish from one vantage point. “The course
is really technical with many spots where you can lose
time,” Olaf adds. Also adding to the appeal of the
venue is the convenience. Once in Oetz, you don’t
have to drive anywhere, and the town has all the
amenities an event of this size needs.
Sickline got off to a shaky start after that first
invitational race back in 2006. The 2007 race was
cancelled for high water (210 on the gauge) and
in 2008, it looked as though it would be
unrunnable due to a river-wide siphon above
what is now Champions’ Killer Minus One. “I was
really depressed” remembers Olaf. “Then a local
came to us and said no problem – he knows a dude
who is doing all the dynamite stuff for the ski resort.
And this dude was so fired up and motivated for that
mission, we had just to pay his costs… so really early
in the morning we blew away this rock. That was big,
man! The rocks were crashing and flying everywhere.
We got a call from the major of Oetz what the hell
was going on the Wellerbruecke. The guys from the
tourism board told him it was a military practice…
and it’s why I named the rapid TNT!”
This year, Sickline had 32 nations enter [the
British entry was the largest by number] and 175
entrants. It’s come a long way.
ThePADDLER 133

ThePADDLER 134
Links
History of Sickline – the documentary by Olaf Obsommer
https://youtu.be/QXquVcjbmKg
Sam Sutton’s winning men’s run
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0u_pUPcGp4
Nouria Newman’s winning women’s run
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBj5ZR1nQtU&t=12s

01479 861 256
www.glenmorelodge.org.uk
Join us on Scotland’s
famous f rivers
Offering the full range of British Canoeing coaching,
leadership, performance, safety & CPD modules
qualifications
white water kayaking open canoeing Stand up paddle boarding
sea kayaking

ThePADDLER 136
E G G A N D C H I P
R E F L E C T I O N S
By Ian Jones
Photos: Ian Jones, George Younger and Anuj Kumar
I am sat with Daz Clarkson-King and George Younger in a
first-floor restaurant in Padum, Ladakh, a village at the
confluence of the Tsarap and the Stod rivers before they
merge to become the Zanskar. We are waiting for our
egg and chips, reflecting on the world-class river we have
just completed. The Tsarap has all the ingredients: altitude,
remoteness, box canyons, pristine white water, all set in
the spectacular Himalayan scenery, perfectly blended to
give you a journey you will not forget in a hurry.

O N T H E
TSARAP
R I V E R
Ian Jones in the Zanskar Gorge
ThePADDLER 137

ThePADDLER 138
Two days earlier we had left our tented
encampment at Sarchu and put-in the Tsarap at
the bottom of the Gata Loops on the Leh
Manali Highway. The open vista as you seal
yourself into your boat belies what is ahead.
Day one, the box
canyons
Six or eight of them depending how you count
your boxes, but, truly, there is only one box
canyon, number four on our calculator! The
open nature of the river changes after two
hours of floating. The river’s flow constricts
between narrowing walls and you enter box
one, a swirling mess of boil, whirlpools and
funky water.
Exiting to a rapid offering multiple lines we are
now committed to the river and the problems it
presents. George was here just last week; the
levels have dropped to the high side of medium
flows. I am losing track of the boxes, more open
than I had anticipated, when we drop into what I
later discover is our box four. No mistaking this,
barely wider than the length of our boats, sheer
sided polished rock walls compress flows, things
start happening, fast!
I look ahead and to my eye the river pretty
much stops a hundred metres ahead, George
disappears round, through the ‘blockage’ a wall
of white water created by a kink in the route
of the canyon. Seconds later I am through the
same stopper, ooof, pull through and into a
surging eddy above a very obvious horizon line,
I am informed this drop is new this year. Left of
centre, there is an obvious window.
Zanskar Valley monk’s view.
Photo: George Younger

The peace and quiet of the high Himalayas is disturbed by two JCBs, working
the roadside verge at our put-in.
Photo: Ian Jones
George putting the kayaks to sleep before hiking up to Phuktal Monastery for
the night. Photo: Ian Jones
Tsarap Chu view with Darren
Clarkson King and Ian Jones
Photo: George Younger
ThePADDLER 139

ThePADDLER
140
Tsarap Chu. George Younger and Darren Clarkson-King with legs
out floating into the lake . Photo: Ian Jones
Tsarap Chu Reru Falls. George Younger and Darren Clarkson-King
taking a brief rest at the bottom of the main section.

Tsarap Phuktal Monastery. Photo: George Younger
I drift to the horizon line and as I am committed, the line
opens, there’s the tongue, angle right, left stroke and
through to more messy water.
The altitude factor
One thing I haven’t really mentioned is the altitude
factor. We put on a shade over 4,000 metres, 13,500
feet, by any standards, that’s high. That would be why I
am gasping for breath, nothing to do with the effort I am
expending to stay on line and upright, or maybe it’s a
combination of the two factors.
We exit the last box and I seek clarification, just to be
sure, “That was the last box wasn’t it?” The boxes have
been playing out in my sub-conscious since 2008 when I
first paddled the Zanskar and the possibility of a run
down the Tsarap first crossed my mind.
The last third of the rapid is dispatched and a long
paddle follows to Phuktal Monastery. A roll in sight of
our beach completes a cold day and I land shivering
uncontrollably. A down jacket and a small fire aid the
warming process, as we are swamped by mini monks all
demanding to know our names and where we are from.
We approach the lake and our first overnight camp. The
lake was created in 2014 by a huge landslide,
however, the Indian army blew two channels to release
the water in a controlled manner to prevent a tidal
wave of water breaking through on its own. The next
morning I have been bitten by bugs that get you in these
parts – I am not at my best. By landslide rapid I am
operating on autopilot. I can’t see the line; Daz carries
my boat for the first section as I stumble over rocks to
an eddy at the base of the side.
George drops down below me, with Daz above, I have
to paddle the remaining two-thirds of the rapid –
portage is not an option. The line is simple enough but
not in my current condition. I break out, make the line
and arrive next to George in an eddy. The river
disappears round a left bend, I follow George and
paddling frantically to avoid the cushion wave. In my
jaded state, nothing is happening until I catch a surf and
arrive in the eddy breathing heavily.
Zanskar waterfall. Photo: George Younger
ThePADDLER
141

ThePADDLER 142
Day three brings us to the top of the page, Reru
Falls and an afternoon of solid white water with
little let up, before the calmer waters just above
Padum.
For some idea of the scale of Reru Falls, that
flash of orange, behind George is Daz, in the
trough of the wave that George is topping out
on (see Ian’s photos right).
As the river turns left, it disappears out of sight,
the river steepens and a whole world of white
water is delivered on a huge plate with all the
trimmings, Daz, not one to over egg a rapid tells
me “its steep” in over ten years of boating with
him I have never heard this description of a
rapid, I would worry, but this is not the place or
the time to worry.
Back to the present and our eggs arrive and ten
minutes later so do our chips. Combining the
two, we devour our food, order another masala
chai and continue our reflection.
Tomorrow, the Zanskar, the copper
canyon
The volume increases but the intensity of the
rapids decreases, apart from another landslide
rapid, this time man made rather than a natural
disaster. The road being built requires ample use
of high explosives to cut its path down the
valley. Over use of such substances can create
rapids, in this case, an intimidating maelstrom of
turmoil with an almost river wide hole, come
stopper, avoided only by paddling onto a boil
river left.

George Younger, Chilling Rapid, Zanskar
Photo: Anuj Kumar
ThePADDLER 143

ThePADDLER 144
Rapid now dispatched, our attention is drawn to
the red flags flying above us, displayed by the
road workers about to blow more rocks to
bits. The workers don’t want us to paddle any
further but as we are mid-rapid, we pretty much
don’t have a choice. We paddle, quickly,
rounding the next bend as there is a huge
explosion behind us. As we exchange words as
to just how close we had come to being blown
up our attention is diverted by movement on
the river bank. We have disturbed a bear having
an afternoon drink. In all the descents
completed by both Daz and George they have
never seen a bear, rare in these parts, the road
can only endanger them further.
Our last camp deep in the heart of the Zanskar
Gorge at Nyrak, leaves us with only the roller
coaster rides of the lower river, the biggest at
Chilling before the river spits us out into the
Indus at Nimmu.
The team: Darren Clarkson-King, George Younger and Ian Jones
We didn’t take many pictures of the rapids in
our 250-kilometre journey, if you want to see
the treasures between Sarchu and Nimmu
before the road is completed, book your ticket
and get there before Jo Tourist in a jeep beats
you to it.
Massive thanks to Darren Clarkson King
and George Younger
#purelandexpeditions

To advertise email: ads@thepaddlerezine.com or call +44 (0)1480 465081 ThePADDLER 145

ThePADDLER
146
T H E
LONGBOAT
C O U N T E
Photo: Damien Larrigaudiere
https://www.facebook.com/LDkayak

R - R E V O L U T I O N
By Corran Addison
Photos unless stated: Christine Pinsonneault
A short boater and a long boater are standing on shore overlooking a rapid full
of waves and holes, ferries, splat rocks and eddylines.
The short boater says, “Look at that awesome wave at the bottom of the rapid.
Lets go down there and surf it!”
The long boater replies, “No, let’s go to the top of the raid, and play them all!”

ThePADDLER 148
Photo: Jacob Seigel
In theory, and for many people, the short boat revolution was a fantastic one. But as
Winston Churchill so deftly said,
“However beautiful the strategy, you should occasionally look at the results.”

Now I’m hardly going to be that guy that
sits here and tells you that paddling sixfoot
freestyle kayaks isn’t a load of fun. I
was one of the main protagonists of the
short boat and planing hull revolution,
and this revolution happened because
the short planing hulled boats opened up
more and more possibilities in certain
kinds of river features.
Photo: Pat Keller
In fact, if you have ‘that perfect feature’ on your
run, it’s pretty hard to beat the fun times that
even average paddlers can have.
But therein lies the catch: ‘perfect feature’!
This does not have to mean a large ‘Lachines
waves’ or ‘rock Island’ style holes. It could be the
perfectly formed little loop-hole at the artificial
slalom course, or an exciting little wave hole on
an otherwise uninteresting river run.
In theory, and for many people, the short boat
revolution was a fantastic one. But as Winston
Churchill so deftly said, “However beautiful the
strategy, you should occasionally look at the results.”
And the results have been trickling in over the
last decade.
Freestyle kayaks
I’ve already touched on the problem. Freestyle
kayaks are a whole lot of fun in that perfect
feature. But that pretty much leaves the rest of
the river run as a battle to overcome constant
verticality, missing dozens of on-the-fly one hit
waves, and essentially just flip-flopping down the
main current in what amounts to sitting in a
plastic turd (unless you’re on that perfect feature).
And so, paddlers grab their other boat; the
creeker.
We find ourselves in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in
Wonderland, asking, “Would you tell me, please,
which way I ought to go from here?” The answer, as
Cat so eloquently states, “Depends a good deal on
where you want to get to.”
This is why people are paddling their creek boats
on easy class 3 runs, and there has been a recent
scurry to buy up older longer pre-2000
playboats out of ex-paddlers back yards: Craigslist
has become the treasure trove of modern
long boater.
ThePADDLER 149

ThePADDLER 150
Photo: Pat Keller
Ask a paddler why they’re on a class 3 run in a
creek boat, and they’ll tell you about all the cool
moves on the river to make, fast eddies to zoom
through, slots to squeeze between, mini boofs to
spin off and some on-the-fly waves to hit. And
they’re absolutely right.
It’s just the wrong boat for the job.
So recently we’ve seen the manufacturers start
to come out with progressively longer and
longer river playful boats. While some of these
are still well under eight-foot, they are a good bit
longer than a freestyle boat, and they do open
up some more river possibilities.
Glide and carrying speed
Most creek boats nowadays are in the nine-foot
range (270cm) and there is a good reason why
they’re so fun to paddle. Somewhere around
eight and a half to nine-foot, boats get back
their glide and carrying speed, and this takes
another giant leap in speed and glide as you
approach ten-foot. Ironically, an eight-foot boat
paddles more like a longer six-foot boat than a
shorter ten-foot boat.
While there are some decent sub eight-foot
new style river play boats, for the purposes of
this article, I’m going to focus more on the
longer boats that truly do bring back a sense of
being able to use the whole river, and exploit all
its features.
Not everyone is looking for the same thing
either, and this is natural. The current main focus
is on ‘creekish’ style boats with squished tails.
Given the predominance, especially in Europe, of
alpine style rivers, it’s only natural that a
rockered buoyant bow is desirable, while the
squished tail opens up some of the possibilities
of tail squirts, rock splats and more dynamic
wave surfing than your average creeker.
Some have displacement hulls, like the popular
Braap, which keeps focused mainly on running
hard creeks with some ‘play’ thrown in, while
others are full planning hulls like the Gonzo, and
are focused more as ‘all river’ playboats, with
some ‘creek' thrown in.
Between these two are a slew of varying
interpretations with degrees of squirtability, bow
volume, and semi-planing hulls. It’s all about
where you live and paddle as to which is going
to be the most fun.
Another alternative
But there is another alternative too. One which,
so far has been largely unexplored, except in the
resurgence of the popularity of old recovered
boats like the Dagger RPM, and Savage Scorpion
for example. Both really long (by today’s
standards), and with more balanced nose and tail
volumes than the new Braaps and Gonzos, these
boats really allow you go back to a time where
you’d explore every ripple, seam, splatable rock,
and surfable hole or wave you could find.
But the displacement hull on these older boats
effectively excludes the last 20 years of design and
paddling progression. There is no reason why you
have to give up all the cool wave surfing moves
we’ve mastered, just to have some speed and to
explore your favourite rivers all over again.
For my own personal paddling enjoyment, I’ve
addressed this with a new design, the 303, and
I’m sure others will be right behind me with a
number of variations on the theme. I was looking
for the same ‘back to basics’ river exploration as
many, but I had no interest in making my creek
boat, no matter how great it is at creeking, my
daily paddler. Even the Gonzo, as remarkable as
it is, wasn’t what I wanted.
The joy that the 303 has brought back to
paddling for me was one that I’d lost in the early
2000s, when I effectively stopped kayaking and
went surfing full time (making it as far as the SUP
surfing world cup). I was not alone, as paddlers
abandoned their boats for kiteboards, mountain
bikes and so on will attest – paddling got
uninteresting (a bizarre concept when you
consider what the young paddlers are doing
today in freestyle boats on big waves).

Drone images: Yannick Larouche
ThePADDLER 151

ThePADDLER 152
While I could, now well past the peak of my
paddling career, go to the Lachines in my 14lbs
ultra explosive, air grabbing six-foot Super Sic
and go bigger and do more than I ever could in
the past - after about two weeks I’d once more
lost interest; and I live at the greatest playboating
spot in the world.
For me, throwing an endless series of aerial
moves was like Jenim Dibie’s Calligraphy of God,
“This empty shell holds nothing but the echoes of
what was.”
Once I had my 303 prototype, I barely paddled
anything else at the Lachines, (and consequently
sold the Super Sic) surfing a half dozen waves,
and squirting countless eddies and boils,
between the put-in and the infamous Big Joe
wave. Once at the main play spot, I was able to
effortlessly jump from one wave to another, and
back, while others spend half their session
attaining back up the eddies.
But even on my 30m3/s (900cfs) local class 3
play run, I have more fun with my long scything
blade of a kayak than in anything else; squirting,
splatting, cartwheeling and surfing every micro
feature I can find, racing from eddy to eddy
making imaginary slalom moves, only to break up
this set of invisible gates to pause for a giant
stalled stern squirt.
Inevitability
In hindsight, the return of long boating was a
foreseeable inevitability. Just look at surfing, where
long boarding has had a remarkable resurgence in
popularity in the last decade, and surf paddle
boarding arrived with an explosion, taking the
ease and enjoyment of long boarding to an
entirely new level (the surfing equivalent of
putting a planing hull on an old school long kayak).
If you’re old and broken, like I am, these new
long boats are really opening up doors to a new
way of paddling the old way, and if you only
learned to paddle after the short boat
revolution, they’re bringing to you new ways of
exploring your same rivers, making paddling
them new and refreshing again.
I believe Suanne Laquer must have been
referring inadvertently to the return of long
boating when she proclaimed, “You’re the best
thing to ever happen to me twice.”

Adventure on the Wild
Atlantic Way
Kayak and Wild Camping getaways on the stunning North West
coast of Ireland.
Immerse yourself in the rugged scenery and untouched beauty of
the Wild Atlantic Way.
Explore little visited areas only accessible by kayak, sleep under the
stars, experience abundant wildlife.
Enjoy award winning local hospitality and cuisine.
Custom made packages to suit your needs inc. transfers and extra
activities.
www.inishadventures.com email: info@inishadventures.com
Phone: +00353 (87) 220 2577 Moville, County Donegal, Ireland
Burtech
Trailers
Hand built in North Wales
Fully EC Type Approved
Kayak/Canoe/Bike Trailers
All Kayak/Canoe/Bike Trailer enquires welcome
Email: info@burtechtrailers.co.uk
l
Email: info@burtechtrailers.co.uk
Tel: 01492641905
Website: www.burtechtrailers.co.uk

Help us put the life back int o our seas
Join the Marine Conservation Society and receive
your welcome pack, free gift and the opportunity
to help look after our precious marine environment
www.mcsuk.org/join
Promo code: Padsum17
E: info@mcsuk.org T: 01989 566017
W: www.mcsuk.org
Registered Charity No (England and Wales): 1004005
Registered Charity No (Scotland): SC037480

ThePADDLER 156
M A K I N G
WW

T H E J U M P F R O M
KAYAKING
T O
WW SUP
Photos and story: Joe Thwaites
Kayaker: Sam Ellis
As a brand owner and experienced paddle surfer, I’d been looking at white water SUP for some
time but ‘the scene’ (well the one that piqued my interest anyway) seemed to be largely happening
across the pond. So when I got the opportunity to hook up with a seasoned kayaker who was
interested in giving SUP a go in his native environment, I jumped at the chance to get involved!
Originally I thought I’d actually be getting in the water too with a knowledgeable river rat on hand,
who’d save me from drowning if things went south.
After the usual stoke-rich Facebook messages and pre-mission phone call as is often the way in this
game, I was as excited as a small child on Christmas Eve. Cameras charged, drone tested and
packed, assortment of kit at the ready, I set off on a two-hour trip down to North Yorkshire, not
really sure what to expect.
ThePADDLER 157

ThePADDLER 158
After a few choice words with himself,
York’s own viking
grew some stones and headed for the lip with a
determined look on his face

Remote location
Sam Ellis has been in the white water game for years and
has paddled some of the world’s most challenging rivers
and has a string of first descents to his credit, so I
certainly felt like I was in safe hands. Finding Keld and
indeed Sam in a remote, no signal location was more of a
challenge than I had hoped for but finally our paths
crossed and we went for a look at the river to see what
was possible.
Unfortunately the water wasn’t quite high enough, so it
looked like my fun would be kerbed this time, as the
risk of injury outweighed the opportunity to fuel my
ego that I was a natural at all things SUP – well at least
in my own mind anyway. I was also lacking the body
armour necessary to fling myself off a waterfall, so we
decided it was best to leave Sam to it and I’d snap in
the all too familiar Yorkshire drizzle.
In fairness to Sam he’d done very little SUP and at a vikingsized
100kg, I did worry he might struggle to even stand up
on our 10’ x 32’’ Amigo Air iSUP – despite it’s generous
220L. After some ‘test paddling’ at the foot of the first
waterfall, it was clear this lad knew his craft, as he was soon
paddling around like he’d been doing it six months.
Nerves
We both went for a look up at the top of the falls to see
where the water was flowing and to assess any hard
ouchy things that might take out Sam. He was a little
nervous and rightly so but after the obligatory jump in
the pool depth test, it was psych yourself time, while I
walked down to the bottom and negotiated the rocks,
over to the best vantage point to hopefully get the
money shot.
The tension was unbearable. Sam’s obvious anxiety had
made my mind race: what happens if he knocks himself
out? I have no phone signal, am I going to have jump in
and drag him out, is he going to sue Loco if he breaks
his neck? Talk about a full on fanny fit but this was
uncharted ground! Thankfully both of our concerns
were totally OTT and after some initial thinking and
probably a few choice words with himself, York’s own
Viking grew some stones and headed for the lip with a
determined look on his face – or the snake was half
out of the cage!
Boom he hit the sweet spot and nearly rode out of it,
cheeky bar steward! I was rightly impressed considering
the flow and the 90 degree angle. He popped up,
looking stoked and before I could even show him the
snaps, he was out and back off to the top for another
bash – some boy! This time he managed to get a full on
boof stroke in and his projection was much better but
sadly the side fins caught on a ledge on the way down,
which catapulted him over the bars. You could see his
confidence growing and like any seasoned pro, he was
back on it and we repeated the process until I was
happy we had a keeper.
ThePADDLER 159

ThePADDLER 160
I thought that was it but big Sam had a trump
card up his drysuit-clad sleeve and after a quick
refuel we jumped back in the vans and headed
back to Keld. After a very muddy and semi
treacherous walk (at least for me in my civvies),
which involved some abseiling, which is always
fun with an iSUP/paddle and fully laden camera
gear, we reached two larger waterfalls
downstream. Now this was the real deal, a tenfooter
and a 25-footer, which looked bloody
terrifying with a cliff wall you could easily smash
into and slide down Wile E. Coyote style!
https://vimeo.com/237439365
Zero room for any error
Again risk assessments were justified, so we went
and had a look at both. The big one presented zero
room for any error with a low flow, so it was
decided to leave that for me to first descent
another day, wearing a chainmail suit and with half a
bottle of Scotch in me, for the necessary kahunas!
So we concentrated on attacking the smaller tenfooter.
Sam did his usual checks while I scrambled
across the rocks to the mid-river outcrop to set
up with my camera. The rain had stopped for a
minute and the light was better than we could of
hoped for, so I gave Sam the nod after some more
deep breaths. He edged out from the eddy and
headed for the shallow, jagged lip.
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it’s Sam Ellis flying
forwards Superman style due to the fins getting
caught again. I was glad to see him breach the
surface, as it looked like he’d taken a proper slap
– belly flop style. Thankfully he’s an ex-rugby
league unit, so he just shook it off and was soon
getting out and wanting a look at the photos. I
sensed he was less keen to do this one again but
the cover shot we wanted hadn’t happened, so it
was a quick abseil back up to the top iSUP in
hand for round two. He deserved a medal just
for that in my book.
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it’s
Sam Ellis flying
forwards superman style due to the
fins getting caught again

ThePADDLER 161

ThePADDLER 162
The money
shot.
SUP Mag UK
cover for the
autumn issue.
Thankfully his second attempt was much more
successful and his exit into the water didn’t look
quite as painful, moreover we had a couple of
potential keepers! It was getting on, so it was
agreed he’d have one more attempt then we’d
call it a day as he wanted to get back to York for
some family time and I still had to get back to
South Shields. I couldn’t have asked for more on
the final attempt, all sponsors, which including
Kokatat, VE Paddles and or course Loco Surfing
would be kept VERY happy with these stills.
After a couple of obligatory lifestyle shots we
both scaled K2 and headed back to the car park
to de-mud before heading off to a little café in
Keld for a well-earned brew and caramel
shortbread, which is highly recommended if
you’re ever up in that neck of the woods.
Destruction testing at its finest for our standard
construction all-round iSUP, which looked as new
when it went back in the bag and a new contact
with a fellow water nut – so no complaints.
‘Falls cherry’
I’m told I’ll get to pop my ‘falls cherry’ next time
it rains, so I’m amped for that and I’m hoping
Sam will also introduce me to some standing
waves, where I can show him what I can do.
S t a n d U p P a d d l e M a g U K
CROATIAN CHRONICLES
Simon Winkley
FRESHWATER BAY & THE NEEDLES
Jason Swain
LADIES STEP UP!
OLYMPIC SUP
Will Satch
COTTAGE INDUSTRY
shaping
OPINIONS
Bryce Dyer, Dave Adams,
Joe Thwaites
TONY BAIN'S
SUP knowledge
SCOT SUP
wilderness
BEHIND THE BRAND
SBS
GEAR TESTS
APLENTY
ISSN 2397-8597 October 2017

AWARD W I N N I N G PORTA B LE M ARI N E S T E R EO
@FusionStereoActive

ThePADDLER 164

M A K I N G
HISTORY
Story: Paul Hyman Photos: Paul Hyman and Allistair Swinsco
The tide is high as first light comes up over the river Thames. The river is
already a bustle with the watermen of today, a hundred years of heritage can
be felt in the air as countless numbers of rowing club athletes set about
their Saturday morning ritual of training.
There’s a real feel of competitive sportsmanship about the place as boats and
skulls move up and down the river, coaches and cox-men calling out with
strict voices. The Thames is a river that has always bought life to the city of
London, ebbing and flowing, giving this great city its life blood to thrive. It has
many traditions and sports come and go, but Father Thames can now add to
its sporting history stand up paddling (SUP).
ThePADDLER 165

ThePADDLER 166
Walking on water
The sport of SUP has become more and
more popular and accessible over the
last few years, with many clubs springing
up around the country giving the
opportunity to anyone who takes
the challenge. Many have
described it like walking on
water and as a great form of
exercise, it’s understandable
that the growth has been
rapid. Keen competitors
unload their SUP boards,
integrating into an already
busy riverside sprawling
with rowing craft and
weekenders up early to soak
up the atmosphere of this
exciting place.
SUP’ers as they are
affectionately known, know
something special is happening
here. In only its 2nd year, having
originally piloted in 2016, the
London river
authorities have
given permission for the Big Ben Challenge to
paddle and race 10km and 20km from Putney
Bridge to Big Ben, returning back on their
challenge in front of the houses of parliament at
Westminster, and then heading back with the
turn of tide. This is something up until now that
was considered too dangerous to under take
due to the strong currents and busy river traffic.
The challenge has a competitive field of
paddlers ready to take on the fast pace, with
great kudos involved, coupled with a handsome
prize purse, many have travelled from far and
wide to participate. Above all, there’s an
underlying feel that all here are privileged and
excited about the experience.
London’s iconic bridges
On busy streets running along the Thames,
bystanders crowd around the start line, looking
on with intrigue at the spectacle of this new and
fast growing sport. The challenge starts with
great anticipation at the starting whistle as the
10km “challenge SUP’ers’’ command the power
of the Thames’ full flow aiding them on their
swift departure, a journey which will take in
many of the London’s iconic bridges and sights.

The 20km racers soon follow suit with an
explosive start showing the skill and stamina of
both male and female paddlers competing side
by side, quickly flying off out of view, soon
passing under Putney bridge.
The momentum of the water’s fast flow makes
for an exhilarating paddle as the SUP’ers seek out
its fastest current. Passing under bridge after
bridge, paddlers witness multiple vistas of this
cities vast and varied landscape, heritage and
modernism thriving side by side. Londoners going
about their business stop to cheer and encourage
the paddlers as they powerfully glide by.
UK’s seat of power
The paddlers soon come alongside the UK’s seat
of power, the magnificent Houses of Parliament.
With the ever watchful face of Big Ben signalling
to one and all the turning point barge, the
paddlers work harder than ever to compete
against the swirling waters as the Thames tide
starts to turn. The SUP’ers crossing the river
have to use all their skills to command the
balance of their boards.
Seeing the waters gradually rising lifts the spirits of
the now tiring competitors on he return paddle
back to the start. On their journey new sights
ThePADDLER 167

ThePADDLER 168
Glenn Eldridge and Paul Hyman
Bill Bailey and Paul Hyman
catch their attention, helping to combat the feeling
of fatigue, as parks, grand buildings, heliports and
boats slip by with every paddle stroke. Each
paddler concludes the journey passing under the
last bridge at Putney. Smiles radiate as they give
their last efforts to cross the finish line of their
personal journey with great gusto
Stories of the experience
Finishing paddlers wade out of the waters to
cheers and claps from bystanders, friends and
loved ones. Waiting on the water’s edge,
paddlers who have finished, encourage the
achievements of all who have partaken in this
epic journey. Many stories of the experience are
shared right there and then on the banks with
hearty laughing, closely followed by groans as stiff
and sore muscles carry boards off the shoreline
The festival feeling rose in the air as SUP’ers
joined the frivolities and music on the riverside
at the Foreshore Festival event. Crowds
gathered as the organisers took great pride in
announcing the achievements of the SUP
paddlers at the prize giving, with all involved
cheering and showing that they truly enjoyed the
privilege of taking part.
As the SUP’ers slowly started to disperse and
the tide fully returned, nobody was left in any
doubt that this event would be back too. Big Ben
had indeed seen all paddlers achieve their
individual goals. The clock will chime at midnight
on New Year’s Eve, signalling to all that 2018 will
bring a fresh challenge for all SUP’ers to
participate at, with friends new and old, once
again enjoying this epic paddle.

BillboardSup.com
INTRODUCING THE H4
THE HERON 4METER IS A FAST AND STABLE PADDLE BOARD BORN ON THE RIVER THAMES
MADE FOR THE URBAN EXPLORER, CAPABLE OF ADVENTURES FAR BEYOND THE CITY.
BILLBOARDSUP.COM