Thirsty kayaker in heat of July, yellow ants and fog... The 13m/sec, 26 knot western wind continued two days, but it was again supposed to wear itself down towards the evening of the third day. I left Kotka paddling against the wind at 5 pm on June 21st, hoping it would get easier before sunset, there was three crossings of about 4 to 5 kilometres (2 1/2 to 3 miles) waiting me before I could reach Longoren again. I had lucky cards: everything went as supposed, the weather turned nice after an hour of paddling and building my camp to a familiar place was very pleasant. Next day I did 42 kms/26 miles in almost nonexisting winds and was able to make safely long crossings via outer routes quite far from the coast. The Navy Engineers were stopping me onroute bacause they were blowing up some old mines underwater, but when I stayed for half an hour to see the spectacle nothing happened. I met the only fellow sea kayaker of this trip just after I had got onshore to my next camping place, Brokholmen, an island which has a sand-pit from the 20īs and a spring with really excellent tasting fresh water. We had almost similar routes and the guy had actually been following me the whole day, I had just not noticed his presence few kilometers behind me. His plans were to paddle the whole coast down to town of Hanko, to the most SW corner of the coast. He had a nice small teddy bear on deck - a gift from his daughter. I did make a camp but he continued, because the weather forecast was again promising unpleasant western winds for the next day when I was supposed to do a crossing of 8 kms/5 miles. I had to stay onshore. I became really anxious. I was hoping to get to home during the next two days and this lousy wind was keeping me bound to this island. A woodpecker was waking up early and staying up late in the woods nearby and it made me irritated. The giant blueberries started also tasting sour in my mouth.The wind was finally dying to the end of the day and the forecast was promising really good weather for the next day so finally I made a decision: I would cover the last 70 kilometres/44 miles in a day. It would be Friday, so my local pub "Double Moon" might be the last harbour of this expedition...sigh.. It was 24th of July. I woke up at 3.30 am and after drinking coffee packed my stuff in haste. The sun had risen shortly after me so there was no time to waste. Everything was calm and quiet and I paddled the first three hours pleasantly, doing the crossing an dmeeting only few boats, before fog surprised me at 8.20 am. I was watching the open sea on my left, when I did notice the odd yellowish colour in horizon and that the closest buoys were starting to vanish from sight. I had barely time to check my route to the nearest cape and get the correct direction using my compass, before everything around me was covered by the fog. It took 10 mins to paddle to the nearest buoy, one kilometer away to the north and I reached it in time - to the cape it took another 10 minutes and another kilometer. Keeping time with my wrist-watch helped checking my progress, there was no landmarks visible, though the sun was shining to the middle of the fog. Very odd situation. I cooked some coffee on some rocks, waiting the fog to leave, but in vain. Finally I decided to navigate to the west from the cape with the help of my charts and compass, even if there was a fairway and a crossing of 4kms (2 1/2 miles) waiting for me. I had to trust my ears: fortunately the waters were familiar to me because I had paddled there during the last summer expedition with my SO and I knew that there would be very little traffic - if at all. Only few tankers per day sailing to the oil refining area of Neste Company in the north, near the town of Porvoo. I did take the risk of crossing, because I did also knew that the fairway was there only less than kilometer wide before the first landmark, which was a tall buoy. I could reach the buoy very fast, in less than 10 minutes, trusting my ears and compass. The crossing went perfectly, I paddled from buoy to a small island and from there to the island of Onas, the place I camped in after the very first day of my trip. Navigating was actually great fun that time: there were only very modest one-footers and practically no wind at all, I was able to keep my direction easily. After the crossing I felt the nature calling so I decided to walk aroud a bit after reaching the coast-line of Onas. It became a very short walk: after spending few minutes onshore in an unfamiliar bay I was wondering about the funny, continuous rustling noise the leaves kept around me. It turned out that the place was full of blood-thirsty yellow ants - larger than I had ever seen before! I ran to the water near my kayak with my pants hanging in my knees, trying to brush the biting beasts away from my diverīs socks and legs. What an experience - you can never know what an expedition brings in front of you... I continued my paddling towards more civilized surroundings. It was turning out to become a really hot day, almost dead calm and no clouds in sight. the fog finally vanished somewhere between 10 and 11 am. It took me finally 15 hours to paddle to Helsinki. I was taking the outer route, avoiding the busier inner fairways because of the weekend traffic - people were going to visit their summer cottages and camp in the islands near the capital. Going back around the peninsula was now more painful, there was so awfully many boaters and also the Stockholm ferries leaving the city at 6 pm. A huge tourist boat passed me in a narrow passage like a coach, from a distance of 30 ft without slowing down. I entertained the tourists with starting to paddle at full speed, flashing my lunatic grin, beard, reflecting yellow mountain-climbers sunglasses and beating the 4 ft wakes with my kayak head high, splashing the bow over the crests. The last two kilometers were the most painful ones. Mentally I had already finished the trip and the last two bananas and candy bars were not helping me anymore. My back was aching. I started eating pain-killers which were packed in pockets of my PFD for such an occasion. I had feeling that all would have been much easier if there wouldnīt have been so many breaks during the trip - I would have got more familiar with my natural travelling rhythm and also had more time to develop my strenght to make reasonable and effective 40-50kms/25-31miles per each day. Finally, I reached the jetty of our club. All my strenght was gone, it seemed to take endlessly long time to go home the normal 10 mins walk with dirty clothes inside my backpack, take a shover and make some really tasty espresso. The fridge was empty, but the blue night was warm, sky was still full light, streets were looking like everyone had left the town for holidays and the basswood and the air smelled fresh, smooth, and nice. I walked out to a park where local restaurant kept itīs terrace. Needed a beer. Cheers, Ari Saarto "Home of the Traditional & Famous Scandinavian Skinny-dipping [TM]" Finland - Europe GSM +358 - 50 - 526 5892 fax. +358 - 3 - 828 2815 e-mail: asaarto_at_lpt.fi *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.gasp-seakayak.net/paddlewise/ ***************************************************************************
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