Escape from Withernsea

Day 34 – Withernsea to Hornsea – 23rd June – 13.6 nm

Strong winds rattled the van overnight. By morning things have eased a little but it is still draughty. A miserable grey drizzle is blowing on the NE wind.

The forecast is for the wind to drop a little mid-afternoon and then for things to brighten up later. The forecast also shows a bit of swell left over from last night’s wind, sneaking down from the north later on.

The tide starts running around lunchtime, so it’s a lazy start. This gives me a last chance to show Team Manager the sights of Withernsea. We walk across dog-poo field to take a look over the edge. It’s a mixture of choppy coffee coloured water and windy froth – yeah, there’s no hurry.

Kit is sorted, plans checked and cake eaten. We head down to seafront to wait for the weather. As we wait, I watch the Hi-viz clad, ‘Community Payback’ boys prodding the flowerbeds with their hoes. A prod, then have a fag, another prod, then check the phone, another prod, then another fag, and then it’s time to knock off. I wonder how long it will take to pay it back at that rate. It must work though, the flower beds are colourful.

Late starts are not too popular within the van; half the day has usually gone by the time I am faffed-out and the weather is good enough. This leaves a rushed afternoon of driving and food buying for Team Manager, with little time to do anything more exciting. There must be more to life is the consensus... Rightly so I admit.

For me the daily ‘should I or shouldn't I’ decisions are beginning to get a little wearing too. I'm starting to find it stressful to have to make fairly significant decisions every day. It is good to have Team Manager to discuss and debate options with - this takes some of the pressure off. But the buck stops here, and it is a lonely thing to have to make the final call each day. Confidence is a fragile concept. I worry about the day when I get it wrong. As for today, well, I won’t be too upset to get away from Withernsea.

The tide turns and the wind drops, but it is still a couple of hours before things settle enough to get on. I am tired and feeling a little sorry for myself, it’s cold, grey and miserable. I pull the dry-suit out as a little confidence booster, I zip myself into my own little warm and dry, danger-negating world.

The surf is a bit splashy but not a great problem, I get the timing right for a change and take a nice dry line out. I turn north now and start my slog into wind, a dozen miles or so of sad, muddy cliffs lie ahead.

The swell comes and goes; sometimes it’s enough to make you watch for the next one, in-between it’s no more than a bit of chop. Looking off-shore, I get the feeling that Flamborough Head is sheltering the coastline from the worst of it. The wind lessens as the afternoon progresses, it becomes the sort of paddling where there is enough to keep you awake, but not so much that it’s a hassle. Life could be worse.

Closing on Hornsea a decision needs to be made. The cliffs continue northwards, the next get-out at Skipsea is an hour or so away - a quick calculation and I guess this hour will save me 30-40 mins tomorrow.

Hmmm, another hour into wind today to save 40 mins tomorrow? The rule is always to take the miles.

I know I should.

I know I’ll regret it later if I don’t.

But – I – just - can’t – be - arsed.

The forecast is good for tomorrow anyway, I can paddle a bit further then...

And besides, I see a sign for a chip shop behind the high sea wall – Pie and Chips or another choppy hour? Tough one that...

From my perspective the surf looks quite lumpy between the groynes, I clear the deck, remove the lanyard and do a Major Tom (helmet on). Over the radio, Team Manager assures me it’s not all that bad – but I'm not convinced. What does she know?

She is right of course.

I paddle in through little more than large ripples.

The sun is out and I dry my kit in the wind as we eat our chips, they’re not bad, for Yorkshire. It’s going to be sunny tomorrow too they say...

Deja Vu 4 - Crossing the Humber + The Return to Withernsea

Day 33 – Mablethorpe to Withernsea – 22nd June – 24.7 nm

There were too many ‘4’s showing on the alarm clock this morning, it was an 06:30 on the water time, so the clock beeped at a time, when frankly, it just shouldn't.  It was even early enough to beat the daily early-morning pigeon wake-up call. Today was the day to cross the Humber, and it looked like we would need an early start once again.

Of course, going the wrong way around wasn't going to help. On the flood you can just point south along the coast, stay far enough out so you don’t get drawn into the mouth, dodge a few boats, then dodge the range and then 16 nm later Bob joins the family tree. Easy Peasy.

On the ebb it’s a little more complicated; if you cross mid-tide you can expect some lumpy conditions and an unpleasant eddy line running off Spurn Head. You also have to factor that geography dictates that you will be paddling against the flow coming out from the river for a time, and then you’ll work against the eddy for a while too. Throw in a wind with any form of east or north component and life could become unpleasant. You could avoid some of this by staying off-shore, but then this means you have to cross three shipping traffic separation schemes (TSS) rather than just the one – a total of 4 nm of shipping lanes rather than ¾ nm. A kayak is easily lost in that lot.

And just to add to the mix, when you factor in the Donna Nook Range, you have about 15-16 nm between get outs to consider too. Nothing is ever easy of course.

Today the forecast is for a steady NW breeze early on but then rising between 10:00 and 11:00, becoming progressively shitty throughout the day – and going north of course. I really didn't feel like combining the outflow from the Humber with a stiff headwind; that had all the makings of a testing time.

 

There was a recommended crossing point for the TSS and I fancied making use of that – figuring that high-water may bring a rush of deep draught boats into or out of the river. Slack water would be the time to cross and was around 10:00, so that should just get me across before the wind arrived. It would also mean that I should be able to sneak through the range before Biggles and his chums awoke and started missing targets on the beach.

The plan seemed to be fitting together nicely; however, the more perceptive amongst you will point out that this will mean paddling against the flood to get to the TSS crossing – that is 11 nm against the flow, with no beach to scratch along. C'est la vie, you can’t have everything.

So the figures were calculated; an 06:30 start to get to the edge of the TSS for the 10:00 slack. I hadn't got a reply from the range so I didn't know what they were up to, to be frank I wasn't feeling too obliging anyway after the earlier Range-Fatboy interaction. 

So, 6 minutes late, off the beach and heading North - farewell Mablethorpe.

 As I head north the shallow water becomes increasingly coffee coloured. Later I hear the range checking in with the Coastguard, so they are awake today, but I'm not too far from the northern edge by now – no worries.

I arrive at the TSS 15 mins early, not bad after 11 nm against the flow, I'm quite pleased with that. I call into Humber VTS, but the handheld isn't really up to the job, it is a bit of a Norman Collier conversation. The attitude here is in contrast to those helpful folks at Dover; I'm not made to feel too welcome just poncing about in my likkle toy canoe. I listen to the guy taking the piss over an open mike. No worries, I’ll just crack on then. 

I sit and float for a couple of Ferries to go by and then go to cross, the passing wind-farm boat joins the party with a patronising comment too. Big boat – little willy I guess.

But soon I'm across and heading on towards Kilnsea. The low-lying extent of Spurn Head lies to my left, it seems much further away than the map suggests.

I hadn't been completely convinced by my plan, but now as I paddle across I realise it was the right decision. I am pleased it all seemed to work ok. 

But as the tide turns and the ebb starts, the wind builds and soon it’s a slog north. The wind comes and goes as rain squalls roll in, the temperature drops. I paddled quite hard to get across the range earlier, the inside of my cag is quite soggy. After the short wait for the ferries and the change in weather, I'm now getting cold. I decide to land on the scruffy beach at Kilnsea to change my clothing.

Here it is all too obvious that the muddy cliffs are quickly eroding, the once-mighty gun emplacements are no match for the relentless march of the sea. The naked cliffs give a hint of what is to come. A little warmer now, I head out and move along the coast once again, with mud cliffs and leaden skies for company.

In 2012 I had an unpleasant day that came to a halt at Withernsea. I was stuck there for a further day, and to be frank it wasn't the most pleasant part of the trip. I really had no desire to return to Withernsea - life's not that bleak surely? But as I head up the coast a nagging voice is starting to make itself heard.

The map shows a long stretch of low cliffs north of the town, with no guaranteed get out until Hornsea – 12 nm hence. I could continue and take a chance of finding a gap somewhere, but I am cold and tired, it is 7 splashy hours since I set out. Hornsea is a long way away today, too much of a gamble. Rather grudgingly, I accept that there could be a return visit to Withernsea after all.

Off the beach and I drag Team Manager into the Shores Diner to warm-up and reminisce over a mug of tea and a bacon butty (I know how to show a girl a good time).

Later we end up on the same mildly depressing campsite that I visited in 2012, across the road from the fondly remembered dog-poo field - the day finishes off with rain and a trip to the launderette. We had to laugh.

Seeing Into The Future

After a few weeks on the water, you get a feeling for what the latter stages of life will bring. After all, you spend each day sitting down, with damp trousers, living off Complan, and smelling of wee.


Oh the glamour...

Mablethorpe Stats

Day 32 -- Mablethorpe - 21st June - 0 nm

It was too windy in the morning to cross the Humber. The day was spent waiting for the wind to drop, it did, but 2 hrs after the cut-off time for leaving the beach.

It was frustrating to have perfect conditions finally, it was so tempting to get on and go, but we had to accept that it was just too late. Reluctantly the day was written off.


We had been on the road for 32 days now, with:

• 653 nm paddled
• 5 weather days
• 148:22 hrs paddled
• 20.4 nm overall average per day - depressing
• 91 day forecast finish - even more depressing

C'est la vie

Daily miles (nm)