Deja Vu 3 - Portland Weather Days

Day 12 / Day 13 –  West Bay - 1st/2nd June -- 0 nm + 0 nm

Yesterday we rolled into a campsite just outside West Bay. We were handed a map of the site, but then I was slightly bemused to have to follow a lad who drove a buggy around the site to show us to our pitch – ‘in case you struggle to find it’ apparently. 11 days on the water - Lundy, Devon and Cornwall in the fog, Land’s End and then the Lizard – it all paled in comparison to the risk of getting lost on a campsite. Jeez

Just when things were getting going the first Weather Day arrives, followed rather too closely by the second one. I can’t complain too much about getting to Day 12 before having to sit out for a day, but it seems a touch unreasonable to be handed two at once.

The first weather day is one of those stressful do I or don’t I days.

The forecast is not good at all, but then it’s not so bad that it is a clear cut decision either. Indecision rules. These kind of days wind me up rather, why can’t it either be 10mph or 35 mph, instead of nearly but (perhaps) not quite numbers? Ooh, life is so unfair.

   

We take a look out from West Bay at the conditions; the decision is tempered by the thoughts of paddling along the 13 nm of steep, dumping shingle that is Chesil Beach, followed by the Portland Bill tide races, and then still trying to find somewhere to land.

Looking at it from that perspective, the decision becomes a little more straightforward, we head for the cafe - a greasy, high calorie breakfast is ordered. I spend the rest of the day worrying that I missed a mileage opportunity, Pascale points out that by sitting out I might have missed a free lifeboat ride opportunity. Good point, Well presented.

Strong winds overnight make Weather Day 2 decision making a little easier. We start the day with the excitement that is a launderette visit – better than telly - round and round and round...

In 2012 I sat out Portland Bill for 2 days too, granted I was on the other side, but there does seem to be another dose of Deja Vue being handed out here - Deja Vue Deja Vue I suppose.

Deja Vu 2 - A New Team Member

 Day 11 – Budleigh Salterton to West Bay – 31st May – 22.7 nm

Another early start, but yesterday’s early stack meant I got some sleep last night so I'm feeling good this morning.

The weather was going to go bad for the next few days so we were trying to get whatever miles we could. The day’s forecast had a window for a few hours before lunch but then worsening, with swell and strong winds coming in early afternoon. 

Though the tide ran out around lunch time too it was less of a concern, it was neapish tides and bar a few cliffs there were no significant features on this stretch. I also was getting to feel that the book didn't tell the full story on the tides. 

If the forecast was correct I was not going to progress along Chesil Beach, so it looked like a return visit to West Bay.

Looking out from the beach at Bud it was choppy; to launch I was going to use my friend the stream, to dodge the dump on the beach once again.  The first hints of the swell were crossing in the far distance but thankfully they didn't look interested in reaching too far into Lyme Bay. We were going to push up close to the changing  weather so this was going to be another ‘options day’ – ticking off Sidmouth, Seaton, and Lyme Regis on the way. It could be West Bay or it could be a 5 mile day. Either way it would be 'close in' day.

I packed the boat in the muddy lagoon under dark skies and rain. Then it was a mini-log flume ride down the stream, followed by a sneaky gap through the rocks, and away to quickly get around the headland, nicely named ‘Danger Head’.

Once around the headland conditions were smoother, there was a different flow there and it held much of the swell out, nice. I made quick downwind progress, confident enough to skip Sidmouth and head straight for Seaton.

Seaton looked inviting in the grey distance but things were still ticking along nicely, so a quick call to the Team Manager and onwards once again, for another 5 miles of cliffs, leading to Lyme Regis.

Short of Lyme Regis the wind started to strengthen, the sky grew dark and the swell picked up, but I was on a roll. I surfed around the corner into perfectly tranquil Lyme Regis with a smile on my face and a little urgency from last night’s Biryani.

Time out to assess the conditions with the Team Manager, who arrived slightly stressed from big van – small roads syndrome. As we had a brief lunch, things looked not too bad out there, the swell was growing a little but the wind was not changing much.

Off I set again, now with a mascot, in the form of Lego Man Larry from Lyme Regis, who was waiting patiently on the beach. (Larry was to stay with me through thick and thin for the remainder of the trip, well, until he finally went overboard on the very last day.)

More cliffs, more downwind.

About a mile short of West Bay things changed, it got lumpy with a nasty rebound from the harbour wall. I didn't even consider the dumping beach. The Harbour Master wasn't answering the radio, but like it or not here I come! The swell followed and I watched it break on perhaps the world’s worst designed slipway -” hmm... pontoon looks good to me”.

Every day there is a sting in the tail.

Later we took a drive down to look at Chesil Beach. Pascale remarked that it was steep enough to ski down, which I reflected was not the best of criteria for a lumpy weather landing beach.

All things considered, better miles than expected.

Deja Vu 1 - Fat Wendy from Pomeroy

Day 10 Brixham to Budleigh Salterton – 30th May – 16.1 nm

In 2012 I had landed at Budleigh Salterton, it had not been part of the plan but the weather decided otherwise. I remember being not too upset, it had been an unpleasant day, I was intrigued to see ‘Bud’ and there was always the chance of running into Fat Wendy from Pomeroy. Alas the last one was not to be.

Today I didn’t plan on landing there either, funny how life pans out.

From the beach at Brixham, Torbay looked as flat as a pancake. There was a breeze blowing from the south, the forecast was for mid to high teens from the south - no great drama.

But the rule is not to take anything for granted. As I ran through the plan and the bang-out options with the Team Manager I could see that she thought I was being a touch cautious, it was flat out there. But something didn’t feel quite right and the landing options after Budleigh were limited, so let’s go through the plan anyway. I had a nagging suspicion that it could turn out to be a short day. I might get a chance to meet up with the lass from Pomeroy after all.

Once clear of Torquay it got lumpy and draughty. I had a couple of visits from motor cruisers asking if I was ok, the second one questioned how safe I was out there. I reflected on this as he stood there dressed in that classic British set of immersion clothing that is jeans and t-shirt. To be fair to him he may have been wearing wellies too, but I couldn't see.

I was in full winter gear (bar pogies – I was ‘down south‘after all) - I wondered if the definition of irony could stretch to the situation as we parted ways.

Soon lumpy got steep; it was too steep to run straight with any comfort, so that meant Exmouth was now an unpleasant, only if we have to, option. It dawned that the easier running cross-sea was going to take me to Budleigh Salterton, once again.

Not ideal.

Not only was it to be a short day, but Bud has a steep shingle beach. A rather steep, big shingle, dumping beach. I couldn't see a landing on the main beach would end in anything other than kit-strewn, boat scouring, it all ended in tears, sogginess.

On arrival it didn't look good. The beach was not going to factor in this man’s plan. There was a shallower, sandy spot at the west end, with less of a dump, but it was getting too close to the cliffs.

Time for a bit of sneakiness.

I like streams/rivers on crappy beaches, they give you options. I like options too.

On a closed out surf beach a river can scour a slightly deeper channel that gives you a little longer on the green wave, getting you closer in, before it all goes white.

On deep dumping beaches they work in reverse, making things shallower, leaving a small underwater ‘delta’ that lets you paddle in through a bit of friendlier surf, rather than the dodgy dumping stuff.

Bud had a nice little stream that emptied at the east end. On the map it drains a small lagoon from behind the shingle spit – an ideal haven. The only down side is that it empties onto a rocky ledge. 

Anyway, to finally get to the point –

surf in, looking for the gap, there it is – a boat length wide of calmness, rocky breakers on the right, the brown dump on the left, committed now, don’t f*** this up, straight as an arrow, phew, TFFT, up the stream and into peace and calm, kids in swimming cozzies and dinghies looking strangely at me - dressed for immersion.

Hanging Around...

Day 9 Salcombe to Brixham – 29th May – 20.3 nm

The forecast wasn't too good, a strong westerly wind along with yesterday’s swell still rolling through. Conditions were forecast to worsen as the morning progressed and then there was an easing late in the day.  I hadn't made it around Prawle Point yesterday, it was put to the back of my mind with a “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it” sort of thought.  The bridge was here now.

The plan was to hang in there for the first hour or so, the swell and wind would be hard work along the cliffs. But once I rounded Start Point and headed north, I would paddle in the shadow of the headland, hopefully the swell would drop and the fetch would be less there too.  The wind would rattle across Start Bay, but we would cross that bridge when we came to it... There were options in the off-shore wind, and I could scratch my way up the coastline if I had to.

That was the plan.

A quick look at the early morning conditions meant a revised plan came into place – back to bed.

Late in the morning we climbed along Start Point, dodging the squalls to take a look. Good decision, I was glad not to be out there.

 The rest of the day was spent hanging around, waiting for the change in the tide and the weather window to combine. Like the ‘options days’, this was something that would soon become routine on the trip.

Eventually the tide dictated that a decision was required, not that easy to make in the sheltered peace of Salcombe Bay. Of course I could paddle out, take a look and paddle back if things weren't too good – oh yes, that old chestnut.

One and quarter hours and 6 nm later I reached Start Point, surfed through a gap in the rocks and into the swell free Start Bay – a ‘Phew, glad that’s over’ moment. The swell had grown to like me, it curved round and headed north too, but thankfully it stayed out of the bay. The wind didn't seem too bad so I headed north, straight-line to Scabbacombe Head.  Mid-bay was pretty breezy though, I reflected that scratching along the coastline might have been the better option.

The wait for the wind meant that I ran out of tide just short of Scabbacombe, it was a bit of a slog for while but eventually I reached the cliffs. Sheltered from both the wind and the flow now, it was a pleasant paddle for the final miles to land, as the light faded, on the stony beach at Brixham.

'Always got an hour...

Day 8 – Seaton to Salcombe – 26.3 nm

I was reasonably happy with Week 1. The daily average was just over 26 nm, Lundy, Land’s End and The Lizard had all been ticked off and, while there had been a few lively moments, on the whole things had been fairly straightforward.

Today continued eastwards of course, but as we were hoping to sneak just ahead of the forecast of deteriorating weather, it meant that we would be working our first real ‘options day’ – working from one get-out to the next as we progressed

.

Off the beach and out across Whitsand Bay and 7 nm to Rame Head - the first go/no-go decision. As the headland pushed me out, the wind and swell became more significant, but I figured it was still ok and so another 5 nm to cross Plymouth Sound.

The next decision point was Wembury, or to go another 5 nm to Erme Mouth. Things were steadily building, matching the forecast, but it was ok – onwards.

By the time I was crossing Bigbury Bay hourly admin was getting a little tricky, I could eat and drink but taking a pee was getting a little fraught. Conditions were building behind and now there was some rebound from the rocks too. Time to wake up.

A further 5 nm onwards was the most significant option point, Bolt Tail.  The next stretch was an exposed headland of rocky cliffs stretching a further 5 nm to Bolt Head. The swell and following sea were going to make this leg challenging I figured. The increasing flow around the headland would make a turn-back difficult, but on the up-side the faster water may settle the conditions a little – well that was the theory - an optimistic theory perhaps.

A brief call to Team Manager to confirm I was going on, and then – “...you’re committed now”. It did get lumpy, the swell was growing ‘beyond happy’ now and the rebound was stretching things. No thought of food or drink, no thought of pretty much anything, just concentrate and paddle.

You know, the sort of day when the amount you open your fingers on each stroke steadily decreases.  Until you reach Evo-stik grip and need help to peel your fingers off at the end of the day.

Moving along the cliffs the flow increased and the effect of the swell did lessen a little, phew. But nearing the headland things started to grow again.

Off Bolt Head things had gone from ‘beyond happy’ to ‘decidedly unhappy’, the swell was pretty chunky now. Once again I was chasing shoulders and looking for gaps.

A lobster boat roared through it all, giving me a thumbs-up – ‘Sorry mate, but I ain’t taking my hands off these paddles for anything’. And then I was cursing the chaos I could see heading my way from his wash, until I realised that it was big enough to hold back the swell coming from behind.

Nice one, time for a burn, to bring the end closer via this unexpected oasis.  It sounded all white and nasty to the rear but if I didn't look it wasn't there.

And then I had rounded Bolt Head and paddled into the shelter of the outer bay off Salcombe. Suddenly I arrived into a land of sit-on tops and speed boats, dinghies and donuts. A marked contrast in a few metres, it was hard to reconcile for a moment.

That was enough for one day.

Uneventful

Day 7 – Porthoustock to Seaton – 32.5 nm

The start wasn't too early, being on the flood again meant that the tides were reasonable, with 08:00 on the water. The pigs were still taking it easy, snoring contentedly, as we left.

The forecast was for a good start, with a strengthening breeze later. Things didn't look so good for the upcoming days though, so it was time to get some miles in.  I paddled out of Porthoustock under blue skies, hardly a swell and a gentle off shore breeze – sea breeze conditions perhaps?

Again it was a bit of a geography day, with the beach at Seaton being the goal. Plymouth would be nice, but unlikely. Hopefully if the weather held it should be the first ‘mindless’ day, no tide races or significant headlands, no rebound or fog, just straightforward, boring miles hopefully.

A quick round of dodge the muppet, on his way into Falmouth, and then things resumed their uneventful progress for a while. Taking a break for a lunch I watched a yacht sneaking up, sniffing the chance for a bit of a wash I put the food away, on with the deck and a bit of a sprint to catch up.

We chatted about kayaks, yachts and general watery stuff as they drew me towards Plymouth. A few quick calculations and I had to accept that I wasn't going to make Plymouth with my new company, it was going to be too far against the tide, so I bid farewell and pointed left towards Seaton. The weather started to deteriorate as I landed, but by now I was on the beach – not my problem any more.

And that was it, a refreshingly stress free day – 7 and half hours to cover the 32 nm – nothing fantastic, but that will do nicely.

The Glexped

You’ve heard of ‘Glamping’? Well this trip was one better, the ‘Glexped’. Rather than dragging a loaded boat everywhere and slumming it in a soggy, flapping tent each evening, I was going to have a support ‘crew’ (actually my long suffering girlfriend, Pascale) along with a van for the 2015 trip.

So why go ‘supported’ this time? Well there were a number of reasons:

1.  I was getting old.
2. I was getting soft.
3.  I wanted to understand the advantages and disadvantages of supported versus unsupported expeds.
4. The main reason however was the state of my back. I’d suffered back problems for as long as I could remember. Man-handling a loaded boat each day during the 2012 trip had caused me serious trouble. After the trip was over it took 2 years before I could start to paddle hard again, it was 3 years before my back returned to the state it was before I set out. On the way I struggled with work, driving and seriously thought my paddling career would end. My 48^th birthday would (hopefully) pass during this trip, and I wasn't prepared to risk another 3 years out.

Carrying full exped kit every day was not a realistic option; I’d be taking the 'easy' way and going on a Glexped.

Fully dry when crusty

With Hind-Sight (dated 23^rd August 15) 

Going supported achieved the main aim; I completed the trip with no significant back problems. In fact I feel in a pretty good state as I write, perhaps they should put the UK Circ on prescription.

Support Advantages: 

•      Some daily admin was reduced for me; I didn't have to drag my loaded boat in a time-consuming, clumsy manner around seaside towns in order to buy food for example. 
•        A wider range of kit could be carried in the van which gave me more options and a better stock of dry clothing! 
•          Quality of sleep was much better - important. 
•        I had someone to discuss ideas, plans and strategies with or just to talk about the day – all significant too. 

However the advantage wasn't as clear cut as it may first seem. Much of the coastline was remote and road access limited. This meant that I still carried a reasonably heavy daily paddle load. Yes, I didn't need days of food or water, or a week worth of maps - but I still had to carry spare clothing, repair kit, shelter, first aid, trolley and so on.  On the remotest stretches when we were pushing the weather limits I carried overnight camping equipment too.

Support Disadvantages: 

•      Daily route planning was a little more complicated, at times daily distances were dictated by available road accessible get-outs.
•  The fact that more kit could be brought along was a double edged sword - bigger faffs could result.
• The van itself added some complications too – finding camp-sites, time on ‘van admin’ etc.
• You had to consider the needs of the support crew too – you couldn't always be entirely self-centred or focussed – compromises had to be made at times.
•  You could get too comfortable; there were a few late starts when a warm, dry(ish) van was more appealing than cold, crappy seas.
• Didn't get the full ‘exped experience’, or perhaps more correctly got a different exped outlook. 

On the whole the van worked well, it did make life more comfortable, life off the water was improved. But it didn't guarantee a greater daily mileage.

At the end of the day the weather was still the most significant factor - we still went 11 days slower than in 2012.