Paddleforhope

DAILY JOURNAL FROM THE MEN IN SKIRTS FEBRUARY '09

After 8 months of planning and logistics, there we were at 5.30am at Refuge Cove paddling out into a solid 3 metre ocean swell made worse by a 15 knot East NE. I'm not sure if it was nerves, latent fear or simply a healthy respect for the ocean but at that point of my life I was terrified.

Once we cleared the entrance to the Cove we soon found the challenge at hand sufficient to demand every ounce of our attention. The old heart slowed down a little and the sphincter began to relax.

Six of us had planned for, trained, researched and organised the logistics and support for our mid-life crisis challenge to paddle from mainland Australia across Bass Strait to Tasmania. Whilst this path has been trod before by a few, it did not diminish the magnitude of the journey before us. We were all, to some point, well seasoned in trekking, climbing, abseiling and bushwalking but our kayak experience until eight months ago was a little limited. Some had paddled the Abel Tasman Marine Park in New Zealand, others the Torre Del Payne in Patagonia, some the Whitsundays and some …….. the Brisbane River and Moreton Bay.

At this point I would like to make a special mention to one member of the paddle team who reached a monumental milestone birthday on this first day (Sunday 22nd February). Congratulations Paul. You are an inspiration and best wishes on turning 65 and taking another tremendous step in your adventures. It is a credit to someone of your age to have the strength, fortitude and spirit you possess. And we are still waiting for you to grow up!!!!!!!


DAY 2 REFUGE COVE TO HOGAN GROUP

We were most fortunate to have the difficult leg of the journey at the start of the paddle. As the day wore on the wind slowed off and the swell became more defined and less choppy. This bought about a broad smile to all members of the group as we slowly made our way across the blue black stretch of water.

Smoke from the bush fires on the Prom had spread for miles and had filled the sky. This had little effect on us as once we had cleared Refuge Cove the wind was blowing the smoke and soot away from us.

We stopped for lunch in the middle of the ocean and called in for an updated forecast for the following day. This gave us real cause for concern as it was to blow up a special Bass Strait treat for us with 40-50 knots of WSW. We discussed paddling through to the Deal Group well into the night but that meant a total journey of 95 kilometres and a paddle time of 14 hours.
"Deal or No Deal"!!!!!!!

It was loosely agreed that when we got to the Hogan Group and had a quick feed we would make a final decision from there.

After 8 hours of which four were a real challenge, the prospect of a further five and a half hours paddling did not seem like a great idea. We set up camp amongst the Fairy Penguins and Marsupial Rats, had a good clean up, a warm dinner of Laksa and rice and fell into our tents on the beach at Hogan Island.

Photos taken on Roydon Island just before heading south to Preservation Island.
Press the 'Play' button underneath the photo to view a slideshow!

DAY 3

The westerly change came through like a freight train at approximately 3am. Everything that was not tied down was blown away. We climbed out of bed at 4.45am, had Weet Bix with warm milk and lashings of honey and decided there would be no paddling today. So back to bed for another three hours of deep sleep. The camp started to come alive again at 8am and we called in for an updated weather forecast. The winds were supposed to slow through the evening however remained at gale force throughout the day.

After the first day's paddle the shoulders and lower back were tight but not distressed. Everyone was pacing like caged beasts hoping to get under way but one glance at the angry ocean bought reality crashing back home.
"No Deal Today".

DAY 4: HOGAN TO DEAL GROUP

We set out to explore the island and climbed to the lighthouse at the top of the hill. The wind had increased to gale force and you had trouble walking upright. On the hilltop we had contests leaning into the wind and we managed to get just past 45 degrees and still be held up by the wind. Whilst the island was barren, rocky and windswept, there was more than enough food to sustain 30 fat steers who seemed to be quite at home with a small colony of fairy penguins.

The wind was forecast to abate as the day wore on, however by 11am one would not think so as it was still blowing sideways.

Perhaps it was boredom, wishful thinking or confidence in the forecast but the call went up at 11.45am.
"Off to Deal".
We packed up our camp, cleaned up all evidence of our stay and at 12.15pm paddled off into 15-20 knots S SW. The waves were hard "beam on" and ranged from 2 - 3 metres with the occasional set of 5 metre monsters rolling through to test our balance and courage. We expected to set a fairly slow pace through the tough seas but our GPS records tell another tale.

It was probably the adrenalin driving us but our 44.7 kilometre paddle was averaging a speed of 7.2 km/hr. The last leg of this paddle had calmed a lot and perhaps that gave us a false sense of security. As we neared the huge rock face of South Bluff the waves were bouncing back from the rocks and confusing the seas with waves coming at you from all points of the compass.

Without warning two of our group were upside down in the chilly water and out of their kayaks. Driven by fear, cold and instinct they popped up, climbed in and pumped out the craft all inside of four minutes.

It is strange but once you can clearly see your final destination for the day some part of your brain begins to tell you that you are tired, you are sore, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" The last two kilometres seemed further than the previous 42km.

We paddled around the final corner and took in the beautiful sight of East Cove as the sun was setting low on the hills of Deal Island. The gestimate ETA was won by Jono who was correct to the minute 6.58pm arriving at Deal.

As we sat around eating a dinner of flathead fillets in beer batter with Greek salad and tomatoes, we called in for an update to the forecast. The news was not what we wanted to hear as a 15 knot SE was due by morning. (Exactly from the direction we were headed). The next leg was to be some 69 kilometres as the crow flies, so by the time you bob around like a cork and get carried by current and wind it will be more like 75 kilometres. To add 15 knots of wind "on the nose" it would soon feel like it was 100 kilometres. Though we had not planned another rest day til later in the journey, we decided to be kind to ourselves and spend tomorrow exploring Deal Island.

DAY 5

During the night I was woken by a continuing parade of possum, wallaby, rat and geese and any other animal within a 20 km radius. For the life of me I couldn't understand why every animal on Deal Island was outside my tent. It was soon discovered that Paul had raided the muesli bars and trail mix and had spread them all around my tent after I went to bed. "Such a treasure is the old fella". The island is truly beautiful with long sandy coves surrounded by emerald green waters. The museum is well worth a visit and tells the tale of the iron men in wooden boats who settled the island in the early 1800's. Several shipwrecks scatter the rocky points and stand as monuments to those who originally chartered these waters.

The caretakers on the island, Glen and Janet were extremely welcoming and I think a little grateful for a new face to talk to. They have an abundance of local knowledge and are happy to share that also.

Our journey is far richer and more enjoyable because of the things we've seen and the people we've met along the way. It seems that it becomes less about our destination and more about the adventure we share in getting there.

The forecast for tomorrow looks reasonably favourable but regardless we cannot afford another rest day so soon. So paddle we must. Tomorrow we are scheduled to be up at 4am paddling into the predawn at 5.30 headed for Flinders Island.

Images from the team at Deal Island international resort. Note the outstanding 'facilities'! Press the 'Play' button underneath the photo to view a slideshow!

DAY 6 - DEAL ISLAND TO FLINDERS ISLAND

Some days it is better to sit in your lounge room wishing you were out paddling rather than be out paddling wishing you were in your lounge room.
"Today was very nearly such a day".
It all started well as we awoke from a restful sleep. Our tummies were still full from the fabulous 5kg crayfish we had for dinner the previous night. We were all packing up the camp in the dark and going off for a morning clean and wash in the ocean. One of our group "who shall remain nameless" was down having a wash and when he returned all the tents were packed up and stowed away and we were off. Paul knew he had not packed his tent so assumed someone,"the tent fairy perhaps", had done him a favour whilst he was otherwise busy. As we paddled out of the pristine bay, one could not help but notice a bright orange and grey shape floating on the water. The wind had blown his tent away and sadly Paul no longer believes in the tent fairy.

The forecast was for moderate winds from the NW which would help push us across the widest stretch of water we would face on our journey. From our campsite you could not clearly tell the true wind direction and it was not until we paddled away from the island did we fully realize that the NW change had not come through. We were paddling into 10-15 knots SE with 1-2 metres of choppy seas. The weather patiently waited until we were about 2 hours out and then decided to unleash a little of its fury. The wind increased to 20-25 knots and whilst the waves stayed around 1.5 - 2 metres, they came at us every 8 seconds. We all now have a small insight into deep meditation or that of a long distance athlete when they enter what they call "the zone". All thought of yesterday disappeared, no sign of tomorrow was yet real, you only thought of this moment in time and getting through this wave. Our concentration was absolute, our senses honed. The minutes turned into hours.

After 11 hours of solid paddling we pulled up at Royden Island exhausted, sore and wondering just exactly why?? we decided to tackle this adventure in the first place. After a warm meal and a brew, feelings returned, as did our commitment to the adventure. We were all looking forward to an easy day tomorrow as now we were in the lee of the Flinders Group, we could paddle along at our leisure and stop whenever we chose to.

We decided to crash that night in an old fishing shack that had beds, showers and a toilet. We left behind $200 in cash for the owner as a token of our appreciation.

Our support craft had just received an updated forecast and whilst the next 48 hours looked ok, there was a big storm headed our way early next week. The ultimatum was given that we either stopped now and went home ----- or ----- paddled the next 4 day program in two days.

So much for our planned leisurely couple of days exploring the Flinders Group.

Some pictures that they managed to send via mobile from Hogan Island

DAY 7 ROYDEN ISLAND TO CAPE BARREN ISLAND

We were up at 4.45am and ready for a long day. The weather was kind to us though the tide and current movement was quite strong at times. For the first 4 hours the ocean was as flat and glassy as a millpond. There were many curious dolphins, lots of startled penguin and a few isolated sightings of fins on the horizon. It was a glorious morning and we made great headway. The only negative of the day was the sadness that we could not afford the time to truly appreciate and explore the beautiful spots we were hurrying past.

The treacherous paddle of the previous day was starting to take its toll. Legs were cramping, shoulders were sore, our sense of humour was wanning. As we stopped for lunch on the beach of "Big Green Island" you could almost reach out and touch the towering peak of Strezelecki. I would have been grand to climb the mountain on such a perfect day.

Enough dreaming - 20 minutes for lunch then off again.

As the tide turned, it was the signal for the current to pull, the wind to blow and the waves to reform and slap at us as we passed. It was no longer postcard perfect and by 6.30pm we had six grumpy old men getting crankier by the minute.

We set up camp on a sheltered beach on Cape Barren Island and watched a glorious sunset back over the water. Tomorrow would be our last day and one that would take us out past Preservation Island and into the fierce currents of "Banks Strait" over to Tasmania.

We planned to get moving at 4.30am, have a quick breaky and clean and pack up the camp. With a high tide at 3.35am we would still get great assistance from the outgoing tide until 9.35am.


DAY 8 CAPE BARREN ISLAND TO LITTLE MUSSLEROE BAY

We fell into our tents and quickly became unconscious. As everyone was physically exhausted, the snoring in the camp reached a deafening crescendo. Then late into the night Dan woke up and realised the tide was coming in a lot further than anticipated. He couldn't find his watch and as he felt like he had only just gone to bed, thought the camp would be flooded and the kayaks would float away.

He was running around like a madman calling out to all. It was like a scene from the cartoon about Chicken Little who said "The sky is falling, the sky is falling." He was fatigued, sleep deprived and clearly having a few screws and bolts loose upstairs. It was actually 3.15am (almost high tide) so there was no real threat anyway.

The camp was awake, anticipation was mounting and we faced our final paddle for the adventure.

The wind was but a gentle caress, the ocean calm and welcoming, the sky was clear and still bursting with stars.

After breakfast, a clean up and one final ritual of packing the tents and gear away, we paddled off into the predawn darkness, following a compass bearing and our GPS route.

The forecast was favourable but we had come to be cautious about trusting absolutely in the Bass Strait weather predictions.

The broad smiles had returned to the paddler's faces and a sense of contented optimism led us on toward Tassie.

Though the crossing is only 40 kilometres, we could not see our destination for many hours. By 9.00am the sun had risen high in the sky and burnt off the mist that concealed Tasmania. From the fog, a huge land mass loomed close on the horizon.

We had made great progress and everything seemed to be going well. The tide turned at 9.35am and we were soon to discover that Bass Strait still had a few tricks left for us to conquer.

We were paddling fast at 8.5 km/hr but seemed not to be making much progress. When we checked the route trail on the GPS we were indeed moving at 8.5 km/hr - 5.8 km/hr sideways with the strong currents and only 2.7 km/hr toward our destination.

This gave us a renewed determination and we knuckled down and paddled harder and faster. As the hours wore on, the flow of the tide increased and our progress was hard fought. After just over seven and a half hours we fell ashore at Tassie and shared a moment of extreme pride and privilege to have completed such a wonderful adventure, through such an extreme environment, with six people I will always know are tried and true mates.

Mitch Palm, Paul White, Jonathan Cook, Michael McVeigh, Dene Crocker, Dan Williams.

Special Thanks to our support crew:
Wynne Hobson and his crew.
Guy Andrews and Glen Kirby (Elg)
Roscoe Canoes and all the long suffering wives and partners.

The paddle team from left to right is:

Guy Andrews
Jonathan Cook
Paul White
Mitchell Palm
Dene Crocker
Michael McVeigh
Dan Williams
Glenn Kirby

On February 23rd, after almost a year of training, a flotilla of kayaks will depart the safe haven of Victoria's south coast and head out into the dangerous waters of Bass Strait en route to Tasmania. Crossing Bass Strait is widely regarded as one of the greatest challenges in sea kayaking in Australian Waters.

The team of 6 ranging from 40 to 65 years, headed by Dan Williams, with back-up crew comprising Iron Man, Guy Andrews will commence the 368km trip from Welshpool and begin a series of island hops with the longest paddle being approx. 70 kms. The team expect to make an island landfall each evening in a south east direction; travelling via Flinders Island to Little Mussell-Roe Bay on the north east coast of Tasmania. Skirts, the kayak version, are used to prevent water entering the kayak.

The team comprising, Dan Williams, Paul White, Jonathan Cook, Michael McVeigh, Mitchell Palm and Dene Crocker is entirely self funded. Team member Paul White, Joint Chairman of Ray White Real Estate, is dedicating the paddle to raise awareness and funds for Rett Syndrome, caused by mutations in the gene MECP2. Paul's much loved granddaughter, Abbey, suffers from Rett; a unique development disorder which begins in early infancy and seen almost exclusively in girls.

A child with Rett is usually born healthy with an early period of normal development followed by a slowing down or stagnation of skills. Abbey (4 yrs) cannot talk and walks with great difficulty, and requires assistance for even the simplest of day-to-day activities such as feeding, dressing and toileting.

There is no known cure for Rett Syndrome, however, researches have been able to totally reverse the syndrome in mice and there is great hope that this will one day be replicated in humans.
Donations to the Rett Society can be made by pledging an amount per kilometre covered or a total amount and will be greatly received and acknowledged. Also donations can be made directly to the fund at rettsyndromeaust.org.au.

This web site "Paddle for Hope" is setup to advise visitors of the progress of the fleet, click here to see an interactive map.

The team are looking forward to lifting Abbey to the sky on the beach in Tasmania when they finish their epic journey.