[Paddlewise] a Full Moon Trip Report

MOONLIGHT BUSINESS - a Full Moon Trip Report

A full moon happened on June 29th, just a few days before my 
trip to SW Archipelago National Park with one of the local 
clubs. We had a brief trip meeting that evening at 8 pm, and 
because I do consider myself a devoted sea kayaker, I naturally 
paddled to the meeting.

Week had been extremely hot and the forecast had promised 
nice weather with calm waters for next days so the temptation to 
add a longer trip to the meeting was overwhelming. Took my 
changes and packed my Nordkapp for an overnight trip - the 
destination was to be the island of Skorvo (see Paddlewise 
Photoalbum at). It would be a little bit dark around 1 am, but 
otherwise I would see and be seen easily - it is so goddamn light 
here at summer nights that I have to cover my eyes with a head 
scarf when sleeping in my tent!

My plan was to start at around 9 pm after the meeting and arrive 
the island after 25 kms/16 miles of paddling around 2 to 3 am. I 
would return at afternoon after sleeping the morning hours. To 
avoid unnecessary risks I was going to keep the coast at 
distance of few kilometers, avoid crossings more than 4 kms, 
and boat routes. This was my first night trip but the familiar 
waters were going to help navigation - if something like 
navigation was really needed. I bought some lightsticks, blue and 
yellow to avoid being mixed with the boats. Packed some extra 
batteries in the pockets of my PFD for the headlamp. Loaded 
the mobile phone. Put the compass and chart on deck and a 
thermos full of cafe au lait behind my back. I was ready to go.

It was the first time I was using the lightsticks - though I did not 
believe they would light my way I was sure they would help me 
to be seen. After paddling 4 kms in cloudless bright summer 
night with my diver´s headlamp on I decided to check the 
lightstick. I choose the blue one, twisted it once sharply and 
shook it to start the chemical process and put it to the headband 
of my lamp. It was sticking out like an antenna, with bright blue 
light. Ugh. Felt like a Teletubby. It was supposed to last around 
9 hrs. I was surely an interesting sight.

The headlamp had old batteries so I was happy with the extra 
ones. It was pointing to the bow of my Nordkapp and to the 
white peak of my cap, reflecting quite a lot white light from it so 
I was quite confident to be seen well. Water was warm in my 
hands. There was almost no wind. A lot of soft bluish light: the 
moon rose after 10 pm and tried shyly to stay behind some 
clouds which had risen from the horizon. The clouds were 
almost as blue and light as the night sky so I was able to see 
them only occasionally, when they were half covering the moon. 
The islands and coastline on route were black mass against the 
bright sky and sea. I felt confident: the waters were familiar.

The crossings went nicely. Saw some boats nightfishing or 
coming from a fishing trip. It was calm and only one small 
motorboat came to check what the heck I was: they stopped at 
the distance of 100 meters from me and slowed their speed to 
almost zero. I was just about to enter an island for a coffee 
break (my only one to stretch my feet) and could almost hear the 
mixed thoughts in the boaters´ mind, it seemed that they were 
not able to identify me. Maybe I was an UFO on water or 
something... I was really happy and enjoyed entertaining lonely 
boaters.

Hmm. Never has the coffee tasted so nice. Fresh water and 
sandwiches with cheese, salad leaves, mayonnaise, ham and 
capers were better than anything I could think of. I hopped on 
rocks around a small beach I had seen boaters use during my 
former trips, but there was no-one. I was completely alone. 
There was total silence, eerie and at the same time comfortable. 
Big ripped clouds moved towards north over my head with 
considerable speed, majestically in their darkness and I was 
getting a little bit worried about possible weather changes: there 
was surely some wind up there, possibly at the height of only 
one hundred meters. The clouds seemed to be very low.

No weather changes. The clouds disappeared as suddenly as 
they came, and I continued my trip. It was fun to light the shores 
with my headlamp and it lighted well also the rocks, algae and 
small fish under the surface. What a magical moment. What a 
magical world.

Someone asked from the shore, from the jetty of his summer 
cottage, how much there was left from my trip. What did I care: 
it had passed 1 am and the whole world and time had stopped, 
it was the coldest and darkest hour. I put a paddling jacket over 
my T-shirt.

My good old friend Osmo with his wife had a cottage onroute. I 
passed their island around 2 am to count the laundry they had 
drying. Seemed that quite a lot, they have two kids. Considered 
some practical joke, as tying the sleeves to tight knots... but 
suddenly I saw a whitish shape enter from the woods the 
footpath at the front of the cottage - it was Osmo who had 
visited the outhouse. I lighted him with my headlamp to get his 
attention and we had a peaceful talk, me floating on water, 
Osmo sitting at the rocks. To my sudden appearance he only 
commented that he could not even have been able to believe 
anyone else so lunatic to be paddling around there at that time!

Still, few kilometers to go. It was getting lighter, the sun was 
going to rise after 3 am. I entered the Skorvo precisely at 3 am 
and at the shore I sent my last text message to my SO, to inform 
her that I had finished the route OK. I did mention something 
about putting up the tent, watching the sunrise and drinking my 
only precious can of beer... After sending the message I put my 
right foot out of my kayak and tried stepping the sand and small 
rocks, taking balance from my wooden paddle. Now, what was 
there, half floating at the water - an other can of beer. A FULL 
can of beer. It had been there quite a while, the paint had a little 
bit faded and it had scratches, but it was still all right. I am not 
going to calculate the probability of finding it... 

Spent the last merry hour putting up my tent, enjoying my two 
beers, watching the sunrise in silence. 

Some conclusions: a) there is definitely someone up there b) he 
has sense of humour and c) among other things he likes seafarers 
and beer.

A true story.

Ari - Finland


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