Trip with Nigel Dennis (Anglesey Sea and Surf Center, http://www.assc.org.uk/) to the Scilly Isles and Wales May 8 to May 31, 2000 on the MV Boston Hornet Wales was great! I got to do quite a bit. Did the BCU safety course when I first got there, and left with a BCU Three Star Award and the Four Star Award, and a lot of good memories. The major objective of the journey is to paddle the Scilly Isles. Personally, I hoped to increase my rough water skills, my paddling strength and endurance as well as become more accomplished at utilizing tides and weather in tripping, as well as play in tidal races, overfalls and rock gardens. I had never heard of the Scillys before Nigel posted the trip on is web page. Well, I may have heard and read about them, since I had read the story behind the development of the ship's chronometer and the problems associated with determining longitude. But, it never really sunk in exactly where these islands were or their unique conditions that make this a challenging area for mariners. The Scilly Isles are 28 miles off the southwest coast of Great Britian in an area of confluence of the Atlantic, the Irish Sea and the English Channel. An area known for challenging conditions where weather and seas collide often in an impressive tempest. Our journey, which began during spring tides, promised to be "interesting." It is the site of the famous Fastnet race and home to many a ship wreck which has occurred throughout the centuries and continue to this day. The flight across "the pond" took me to Dublin from where I took a fast ferry over to Holyhead, Wales. I liked the looks of Dublin and would have like to have spent more time there. Especially since the Irish beer is so good. Moreover, the Irish seemed quite friendly, particularly for city dwellers. But, I was on a mission, and anxious to get to Wales. There were public internet terminals in the train and ferry station in Ireland, so I was able to send a message home when I got there, rather than use the phone. Great idea. While the fast ferry took only 1.5 hours to cross the Irish Sea, when I arrived at the terminal, lugging huge bulging bags of kayak and camping gear, I had just missed the ferry. That meant a 6 hour wait for another one. After about 9 hours of flying and a 6 hour layover in New Jersey... that was an ominous feeling. Tied down to the luggage, I had to stay put. So, another wait. Getting to the ferry terminal with all my bags was hell. I had two huge bags with all my gear, a back pack, a hand bag and of course, two sets of precious paddles! I did get on a bus from the airport which took me to the Dun Laoghaire (pronounced Dun Leery) terminal. I missed the first stop to the ferry, and went one more stop before I managed to get off the bus. I couldn't get to the terminal, and taxis didn't stop there. I had to get back on the bus and get dropped off near a taxi stand. So, making a couple of trips, I hauled all this luggage back on the bus. I managed to get a taxi back to the ferry terminal. I wanted a beer.... but, I was so tired, and with so much waiting yet ahead of me before the day would be over, I surely would have fallen to sleep and woken up with no luggage...no, they would have just stolen the precious paddles. right? Opting for the more prudent judgement, I just sat in the terminal waiting for the ferry. The ferry was huge. There were casinos, bars, shops, even a MacDonald's on the ship. I had come all this way for a Big Mac? I don't think so. It raced across the Irish Sea at around 30-40 knots. I thought... now, it's finally time for a beer. I got a half-pint of Guinnis. It went down so smoothely... I was buzzed! Hey.. I think I'll have another half pint. This is definately good! Finally... finally, I arrived in Holyhead. After struggling with all my baggage, that only another expedition kayaker could appreciate, I got to a phone and called the kayak center (ASSC). NO ONE ANSWERED! Geez! So, I got a taxi to the center hoping I would find someone around. The Symposium was over just a few days before that and there were still a few hangers-on staying there. Nigel was away, and no one was around but a couple of guests. They said everyone had gone home for the day, but they had left some food out for me and to grab a room. I ate dinner, walked around the center looking the place over and read all the kayak posters on the wall, but shortly, the beer, the many hours up and that last meal took its toll. I crashed. No paddling the first day. I took the time trying to set the bio-clock which was running amuk at this time. I must have walked around tired for days. I observed the kayak manufacturing process and learned a bit about kayak repairs. I then went into town, looked the town of Holyhead over. Of historic interest, there were the remains of a 4th century roman wall which surrounds a 12th century church and grave yard. For a Texan, it was COLD! I was bundled up most of the time, while the locals were wearing short-sleeve t-shirts I was freezing. Can you imagine? I was decked out in a dry suit, and the trip leader was often wearing a short sleeve shirt, a bib, and rubber boots! Like the water temp., the air temp. was in the 50's F. I was usually sweating like a hog all zipped up in my dry suit. I could withstand all the sweating, but at the end of the day, or when we stopped to eat or take a break, I was cold. The worst was my feet. They seemed to stay wet. My dry suit has latex-rubber feet. My feet would sweat, and never seem to dry. Lesson: After a day's paddle, be ready to change clothes ASAP. The first paddle in Wales was a day paddle of 6 miles or so following along the steep rocky cliffs that defined the island. "A warm up paddle." We paddled up to thousands of razorbills and guillemots. This was a marvelous site, watching these birds launch off the cliff walls.. Fat bodies that struggled to take flight, their wings beating fast they plunged almost to the sea as they fought to gain altitude. The birds on the water required long take-off runs, trapped in ground effect before they could build up enough speed to gain altitude. What a site. We paddled into sea caves. One kayaker would post as a guard outside the cave to warn of rogue waves, or the wash from the ferry or other large ship that might pass as the rest of us ventured inside the cave to explore. It was the first sea cave I had ever seen or explored. Each cave had its unique sound; a musical sound as the waves washed into the bowels of the cave. These caves were huge. Deep round holes carved into the rock. What if the cave collapsed? What, of metamorphic rock? They had been carved by the sea, why not now? Actually, the geology of the coast was quite interesting. I don't know much about rocks, but it was clear a lot had transpired to create these cliffs. Sandstones, metamorphic rocks with igneous intrusions, slates, granite, conglomerate... Next time I promised myself to take along a rock book! The next day, I took a canoe safety course from Peter Bray. Peter had participated in the Symposium which finished the day before and was waiting around for a window to begin his paddle from Novascotia to Ireland. Yes. Across the Atlantic Ocean. Peter is paddling now, as I write! He expects it will take him 90 days (http://www.outdoorchallenge.co.uk/nakc2000/). During the course, my camera had gotten dropped into the water. One of the fellows on the paddle, a Dutch man had some scuba gear. Peter volunteered to go search for it. After much ado getting equipment together, he suited up. As he walked out to deep water, he discovered, in ankle deep water, my camera. Another hour and the receding tide would have exposed it. We all had a big laugh. Peter changed clothes and we went to the pub to celebrate! The next day was spent on a walk to town looking for the items I needed for my trip, which included fuel for the camping stove. I came up empty handed. Nothing. I found nothing that I needed, not even the fuel.. Not to worry, Peter will bring some. As it turned out, I never got the fuel. Several of us needed fuel, (those of us who had flown in.) We managed to get by without it. Finally the day came to load the Boston Hornet and head for the Scilly Isles. I had never even heard of the Scillys. I later learned the story and fate of Admiral Cloudesley Shovel who lost several ships there and some 1,400 men...out of which only two survived, including him. He washed up on the shore only to be murdered on the beach for his rings and jewelry. But that's another story. The MV Boston Hornet is a 95 foot steel hulled vessel. We loaded the boats and provisions and by late afternoon, we all had located a bunk which was to be ours for the next couple of weeks and were off towards the Scillys.. On our way to the Scillys, the Irish sea got rough and there were lots of sea sick folks aboard. I got a little woozy at times, mostly from the smell of diesel, but nothing bad. It actually felt great to be at sea again. It had been so many years since I had been at sea on a boat this size. The Scillys are a long way from Wales. We were tying to reach the Scillys for a day approach. The approaches are difficult and anchorages generally poor. Fighting tides, rough weather and great distance, we were at the mercy of the diesel engines droning away. As the Scillys came into view, all but the most sea sick were in the wheel house watching the approach. We watched intently as the rocky coast came into view. We rounded the southern end of St. Mary's Is. at dusk. We found anchorage. We lowered the launch and went to town for our first of many pub crawls. The town was delightful. I had a beer and found a phone to call home. So nice to hear Debi's voice. What a shame she couldn't be with us. I wondered if she would have survived the rough boat ride. After a few more rounds and dinner, we got back to the ship and began thinking about our first paddle which would come in the morning. The first paddle was a 13 mile circumnavigation of St. Mary's Island. It was great fun paddling in the Atlantic swell, stretching on the island for lunch and for rest breaks. Most of the paddling was in Force 5 winds, through rock gardens and crashing waves. No rough stuff yet, and actually, a pretty easy paddle. The greatest challenge so far being lowering the boats off the deck of the Hornet and hauling them back aboard after the paddle. The weather prediction, which proved not to be, was for good weather for the next three days. During the night however, a dark low ceiling of stratiform clouds moved in accompanied by increasing winds to Force 7. The winds continued to increase with driving rain to Force 8. Not a good paddle day. When we awoke, we had to scramble to get the gear stowed away and the kayaks lashed down to the deck. Electing not to paddle this fine day, the expeditioners and the crew, except for the ship's cook, took the ship's launch to the island to explore and "get a little local culture" in the cozy pubs and out of the weather. In spite of the wind and rain, we hiked the island. The bluffs overlooking the sea was scattered with neolithic burrial grounds dug some 1000 to 2000 b.c. The ruins of Cromwells' castle built in the 16th century, and of King Charles' fort overlook the north entrance to the harbour to St. Marys. The south side of St. Mary's island is protected by a barricade where once rows of cannons threatened would be attackers from behind stone walls. Rain, wind and seas dominated our stay at the Scilly's. We had a few more paddles, but each was a hard paddle against the driving wind. Only once during our tour of the Scillys do I remember having the wind at my back as we paddled to catch the ship. And I do mean, catch the ship. We were careful to start our run towards the ship directly up wind so turniing towards the ship would be possible. What fun... as we were able to surf down to the ship over a a fetch of a couple of miles of waves. The only problem was turning upwind to disembark from the kayak. Turning upwind required a great deal of effort. The launch was in the water, tied up to the ships gunnel. Making headway toward the launch was an exciting maneuver. Once we could grab the launch, we popped our spray skirts and rolled out of our kayaks into the launch, while Peter, who was in the launch held onto the kayak and lifted it upward toward waiting hands of tenders on the deck. The paddler now timing the waves to grab ahold of the ship's ladder to scramble up the ladder at the wave's peak. After several days of this, the weather reported a gale approaching. We discussed options and decided to head for Newlyn, on the southern coast of Great Britian and paddle around Land's End. Off we steamed into the windy night. Several hours of riding wind and waves and several sea sick pills, we arrived in Newlyn about the time for supper. We clambored up the ladder to the docks and walked toward town looking for a pub and a place to grab a bite. As soon as the weather permitted, we loaded kayaks and disembarked for the trip around Lands End and on to St. Ives. The paddles had to be planned to correspond with the tidal currents, as the currents were strong enough to effect the distance paddled as well as taking consideration the direction of wind and possibly opposing currents. Along the british coastline, a 15 mile paddle might offer only two or possibly three beaches where one could duck in for some protection. The rest of the paddle, one was looking at perpedicular walls of rock which offered no repose or respite. We made it as far as Sennen. A great surfing beach which is quite steep by the standards i was used to. Surfing in was a thrilling and fast ride! Don't capsize! I thought to myself as I felt my heavily laden boat pick up speed and race towards the beach! I had a perfect landing, but was absolutely exhausted from a full day of paddling into force 6 winds. Socks...socks...socks... God, I wish I had brought more socks. I was soaked with sweat under my dry suit. My feet, which were enclosed with latex rubber from my dry would begin to soak after a couple of hours of paddling. I hated that. I felt my feet rotting.. But now to get the tent up and something in my stomach before I became too chilled by the wind and rain. I hurried into my tent. I prepared something to eat, not taking the time to get something warm in my stomach. I relished in the refuge of my tent out of the cold, I hung up my fetid socks hoping they would dry and fell asleep, exhausted. The next morning we awoke to force 6 and 7 winds and driving rain. Except for the cold the weather had brought us, I was actually glad. It meant another day to recover after that hard paddle. It gave me a chance to take note of the items I would take on the next expedition which included SOCKS. Dry socks! Another gale is approaching! We gathered our gear. We packed the kayaks and launched into the surf. I have made a habit of keeping my deck clear of gear, except for my pump, my spare paddle and my wet notes. Blasting through the surf, I later discovered two years of notes out of my wet notes were washed away; the pages simply ripped out and now gone forever. Peter Jones announced... there's a dolphin. I looked around and saw the fin cutting the water. I studied the fin and the swimming motion and announced: "Hey. That's not a dolphin. It's a shark.." The paddle pace picked up. I said... "Hey guys... It's a shark!" They paddled faster. I was thinking: "lets go look!" I sat and watched the shark and studied it's swimming motion as the others left me behind. I was not worried about the shark. What was the rush? The boat would wait. It turns out that it was an 8 ft. or so, basking shark. Probably the only one I'll ever see during my lifetime. How cool! Once back aboard the ship, we made for Fishguard to find shelter against the gale looming before us. Behind a wall of concrete, safe within a the harbour of Fishguard, we listened to the sound of thew wind and scattered whitecaps within the harbour. This fine, English spring day was more like one of the worst days of a Texas winter. Frankly, I was ready for another day of rest, as the next paddle promised to be a hard one. We were running out of days. We planned a 30 mile paddle from Fishbarth to St. Davids where the Hornet would pick us up. We were all looking forward to paddling "the bitches." "The bitches" is a narrow pass between two large bodies of water, that provides an impressive tidal race several miles long. Located near St. Davids, the bitches always promise some excitement and challenging conditions. Many go there in white water boats to catch "the action." Rested and ready to paddle, the wind was more subdued. Paddling against a mere Force 4 wind, the paddle seemed like an easy pace for a change. The gale had left behind a legacy of 6 to 10 foot swells which made the paddle a bit more fun. We made Porthgain about 1730 hrs. We set up camp and found ourselves in a pub which dated back to 1749. The walls of the pub were decorated with relicts from ancient ship wrecks... well, ancient by Texas standards: The fantail of a sailing ship which was wrecked there in 1849. I grew to like camping within walking distance to a pub. It's not what I expected, but certainly satisfactory. The English brew such good beer. Of course, I wouldn't want to miss the opportunity to cultivate my palate and search for "the perfect brew." Weather caught us again and delayed our trip to St. David's. We did make the trip which was another easy day of paddling. We had ample time to explore sea caves and play among the rock gardens along the way. Nigel built a fire along the beach at lunch time, providing some warmth during our respite. That turned out to be the last paddle. Weather and time prevented us from culminating our trip at "the bitches." Once back in Wales, I did get the chance to play in the tidal race and overfalls near Holyhead. The waves steep, my hull rising into the air, then slamming down the backside of the wave. "Turn when your bow catches air," Nigel instructed. "Lean forward on the backside to enhance your speed." "Do you want to go round again?" "Sure I said." What fun! I expected more of this on my journey to the Scillys, but the winds had whipped up the seas to more than fun. It would have been more than I could have paddled. Further exploration of the tidal races will have to wait for another day. Robert rccline_at_swbell.net *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List - All postings copyright the author and not to be reproduced outside PaddleWise without author's permission Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.paddlewise.net/ ***************************************************************************Received on Sat Jun 03 2000 - 11:11:05 PDT
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