[Paddlewise] Hundred Miler without Sleeping or Landing-Trip Report

Everyone,



Below is the text of the trip report from my 100 nautical mile paddle
without landing or sleeping. Photos can be seen with the text at
www.rollordrown.com/hm.html.



Enjoy the misery!



Duane Strosaker

Southern California





Hundred Miler



Somehow I had the desire to paddle 100 nautical miles without landing or
sleeping. With having no problems completing a 43 nautical mile paddle
without landing and a couple of overnight crossings in the past, I didn't
think the mileage and sleep depravation was going to be bad. I was so
confident that I didn't even change my fitness routine, which is to paddle
about 8 to 12 miles each weekend and do a weight, callisthenic, and yoga
circuit course for one hour, twice each week. Besides, I wanted to complete
the paddle using my brain, not muscles, because over the years I've learned
that proper stroke technique, hydration, fueling, temperature regulation and
pacing are more important when it comes to endurance.



I put a call out to my friends to join me, and only one, Steve "Hull
 Cracker" Wilson, answered. He is a good sea kayaker and friend, and I was
glad we were going to share this adventure together.



On Saturday, March 22, 2003, at 6:00 a.m., Steve and I launched from Channel
Islands Harbor. Except for 4 to 6 foot swells, the conditions were calm, and
we settled into our routine of paddling, drinking water as needed, and
taking a 5 minute break every hour to eat. The 25 miles to Point Dume were
uneventful, and we arrived there at 12:30 p.m., feeling good.



The next 25 miles were in Santa Monica Bay.  For about 12 miles shortly
after coming into the bay, a light wind created small waves that were
quartering us from the right rear, causing our kayaks to constantly turn in
that direction. Neither of us had a rudder on our kayaks, so we extended our
paddles to the right and did a lot of sweeping and edging on that side to
correct. When we reached Santa Monica Pier at 5:30 p.m., the wind and waves
stopped, and it felt good to paddle on both sides of the kayak again.



Shortly after it became dark at 6:30 p.m., we were surprised by a 4 foot
wave crashing about 25 yards in front of us. I looked over to the right to
see if another wave was going to hit us, and through the darkness I barely
saw a white buoy. We paddled over to it, and it said, "Danger," warning
about the reef. We went around it and were almost hit by another 4 footer. I
looked to the right again and barely saw a similar buoy. We went around that
buoy too and hoped there weren't anymore breaking waves to surprise us.



We arrived at the 50 mile point, King Harbor, at 9:30 p.m. and took a 30
minute floating break to eat and put warmer clothes on for the night. From
the harbor, we could see the lights on the Palos Verdes Peninsula, which we
were going to spend the night paddling around. I thought how it would be
much nicer to get a hotel room and go to sleep instead. At this point, we
were tired. The first 50 miles hadn't been bad, but we knew to paddle
another 50 was going to be tough. In addition, we would have to spend the
night avoiding the large surf that broke on the many reefs and rocks on the
peninsula.



Although we had to fight off sleepiness, the first half of the peninsula
went well. But when we reached Point Vicente at the tip of the peninsula, we
were enveloped in fog. The visibility in the darkness and fog varied from 25
to 200 yards. When the visibility was low, we navigated by listening to the
surf break, turning back and forth to keep the sound from becoming too loud
or faint. Twice we let the sound become too loud and were almost hit by 3 to
5 foot breaking waves. It was hard enough to just stay awake, much less
paddle and navigate. A few times I felt myself almost nod off and tip over.



It was still dark and foggy when we arrived at the breakwater of Los Angeles
Harbor. Our plan was to follow the breakwater around the harbor. However,
when we came to the first entrance of the harbor, the fog was so thick we
couldn't see where the breakwater continued a little over ¼ mile away. We
looked for a light and listened for a fog horn, but we couldn't see or hear
anything. We didn't have a chart, so we decided to go northeast, which would
take us generally in the right direction through the harbor.



With current security issues, we figured we'd be stopped and questioned by
the Coast Guard in the harbor. After all, why would two guys be sea kayaking
through the harbor in the middle of the night, unless they were going to
blow something up? I told Steve that if we were stopped and questioned, we
should tell them we're doing an over night paddle from King Harbor rather
than Channels Islands Harbor, because they would never believe the distance
we paddled and would want to search us. We were surprised that we didn't see
any patrol boats and questioned just how secure the harbor really is.



Inside the huge harbor, the darkness and fog, not to mention our sleep
deprived state, distorted our perceptions. Sometimes we thought ships were
moving when they weren't, and sometimes we thought ships weren't moving when
they were. We saw a flashing light that we thought was a mile away, and we
were surprised when we passed by it about 10 seconds later. I thought I saw
faded city lights in the distance, but a few seconds later those lights
became a flock of seagulls that woke up and flew away as we paddled through
them.



We didn't know where we were in the harbor, but we knew that our indirect
route was going to add a mile or so to the paddle, all of which was
demoralizing, especially in our fatigued state.



Not long before daylight, Steve announced that he had stomach cramps and had
to answer the call of nature. He decided against answering the call using a
paddle float or assisted method, because he was already cold and didn't want
to risk getting in the water, which was about 57 degrees Fahrenheit. He
wanted to complete the paddle without landing, but he felt he had no choice.
He landed on large rocks protecting an island and answered the call there.



Shortly before 6:00 a.m. on Sunday, as it became daylight and the fog slowly
faded, we rounded a corner and saw the Queen Mary, which helped us figure
out our location in the harbor. We then headed to the east end of the
harbor, where we could exit and get back on the coast.



Just past the harbor was the entrance to Alamitos Bay, which was the last
protected landing for the next 15 miles. At that point, Steve told me he was
pulling out. It was a hard decision for him, because he wanted to finish,
but his body told him to stop. It had been great for my morale having him as
a partner for the last 75 miles. I was especially grateful to have him with
me during the darkness and fog around the Palos Verdes Peninsula, which was
no place to be alone. He later told me that he wanted to pull out at King
Harbor, but he wasn't about to let me go around the peninsula alone
overnight. Before we parted, he gave me his last 2 bottles of water, which I
needed, because even though I brought 3 ½ gallons, I had less than one left.



Only 25 miles remained, but I knew they were going to be long. It was hard
to imagine paddling for what I estimated to be another 10 hours. Initially,
the daylight woke me up a bit, but soon afterwards, I felt the strong urge
to sleep again. More frequently now I caught myself almost nodding off and
tipping over. I tried to concentrate on staying awake, but it was a
struggle. To try to wake myself up, I sang songs and splashed myself with
water, but they helped for only a couple of minutes at a time. I didn't have
any sore joints, but my muscles were fatigued, especially in my abdomen.
Every stroke took more effort and became less productive. I went from taking
breaks every hour to having to take one about every 20 minutes.



Off Bolsa Chica State Beach, it was my turn to experience the call of
nature. The call wasn't loud, but it was distracting from the focus I needed
to finish the paddle. To facilitate things in the 5 foot swell, I rigged a
paddle float, lowered myself up to my waist in the water, and laid my upper
body across the cockpit to help keep dry and warm. It was my first time
doing it at sea, and it went rather well.



My motivation to get through the long stretch to the Balboa Pier at Newport
Beach was two friends, Dave O'Connor and Mike Brown, who were meeting me
there and finishing the paddle with me. I was glad to have them with me for
those last 14 miles. One reason was for safety. I felt like I could fall
asleep at any moment. Another reason was for morale. Every time there was a
beach that could be landed on, I felt a huge urge to land, collapse on the
sand, and sleep. At each of these beaches, I went through the whole decision
process. I kept tricking myself by thinking that I might land at the next
one instead. I am sure that if Dave and Mike weren't there with me, I would'
ve given up and landed on one of those beaches.



After reaching Dana Point, there were no more beaches left to temp me, but I
still had 2 ½ miles of paddling left. I thought that being so close to
finishing would give me a final burst of energy, but it didn't. Each stroke
was a struggle.



At 5:45 p.m., 35 hours and 45 minutes after launching, my bow hit the sand
in Dana Point Harbor, and I had paddled 100 nautical miles (102 to be exact)
without landing or sleeping. Unfortunately, I was too tired to be happy.



Will I ever do a hundred miler again? Hell no! As a friend said when I asked
him to join me, I would rather surf an 8 foot wave into a rock.



I have to give special thanks to Steve, Dave and Mike. They have no idea how
much them being there helped me complete this paddle. I don't think I would'
ve finished it without having these good friends along.


***************************************************************************
PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List - Any opinions or suggestions expressed
here are solely those of the writer(s). You must assume the entire
responsibility for reliance upon them. All postings copyright the author.
Submissions:     PaddleWise_at_PaddleWise.net
Subscriptions:   PaddleWise-request_at_PaddleWise.net
Website:         http://www.paddlewise.net/
***************************************************************************