Paddling Update: Day 36–45

Day 36 – Knysna to Plettenberg Bay, 44km (3hrs 45min)

After a wonderful day in Knysna I was on the go again. Leaving the lagoon and heading out through the heads I was accompanied by Alastair and Judy in a double, and Paul Dugmore and Trevor Niksch in singles. The wind had already started to puff from the south-west, a downwind. I stayed within 1–1.5km of the shore for the rest of the leg. It was a bumpy ride, swell coming from the front, a swell from the south-west and their reflection waves off the cliffs, but I started slipping down some swells at peak speeds around 30km/h, lifting my average to almost 11.5km/h until reaching Robberg. Around the point and into the bay, the wind and sea flattened out and I could have been paddling on a pond. I paddled in at central beach next to the Beacon Isle hotel.

A good friend, Wayne Craig, had arranged for the local NSRI and paddlers to come out and greet me, though I arrived almost an hour sooner than anticipated. It was still great to see everyone at the beach a little while later. After a quick shower at the NSRI base we were whisked off to Off the Hook restaurant for a fabulous breakfast, then to the local radio station, MC 90.3 FM, for an interview.

That evening we were treated by Owen Johnston from Tamodi Lodge and Stables, a stunning place. Would have loved to chill out for a whole day there, but the plan was to march on toward Storms River mouth, 53km away.

Day 37 – Plettenberg Bay to Storms River, 50km (5hrs)

We had delicious pizzas for supper the evening before, courtesy of Wayne and Louise Craig at Tamodi Lodge, and Thursday was one of the mornings I really battled to get out of bed. While setting up the electronics for the paddle I tweaked something in my lower back, but decided to paddle anyway and see if I could “paddle through it.” An hour and 45 minutes in, approaching Nature’s Valley, I was in enough pain that I paddled toward the beach and had a serious debate with myself, then decided to HTFU and push on to the end of the planned day.

I passed fishing boats with punters looking unhappy at the lack of “stywe lyne,” and moved closer to the coast to see the Otter Trail huts and the view of the Bloukrans gorge and bridge from that end, which was spectacular. My speed over the ground improved and by the time I reached Storms River I was averaging 10km/h again. Paddling into Storms River itself was very special, there cannot be many people who have done that, though a group of twenty tourists came paddling across the river while I was having a coffee on the deck, so much for having the moment to myself.

We battled to find accommodation, and eventually the head park ranger helped us out with a beautiful camp site. Tomorrow was going to be another challenge, with my back uncertain to hold up and the wind expected in my face, paddling toward Skuitbaai with no confirmed spot to rest for the night.

Day 38 – Storms River to Eersterivier, 31km (3hrs 30min)

The rest day at Storms River gave my back a well-deserved break, and a little massage from Judy helped. While preparing supper I got a phone call: Frans Loots had read my blog on Facebook and offered us accommodation right next to Eersterivier, my next stop. I am still amazed at the compassion and kindness people have shown on this trip, from total strangers to good friends.

I woke to a still, calm morning and was on the water by 4:40am. The first two hours were a normal day at the office save for a slight head current from the previous night’s wind. The last hour and a half was into an increasing headwind, making progress painfully slow, but I eventually made it to the end. I almost overshot my exit point until my shore crew guided me behind the reef and safely to the beach. There I discovered the paddler I’d spotted out on the water earlier was Heinrich Schloms, whose wife had briefly lost sight of him too.

We sneaked inland for lunch with our hostess, Tanya Loots, before braaiing with the “Loots of Trouble” clan ahead of Day 39 to Oyster Bay.

Day 39 – Eersterivier to Oyster Bay, 43km (4hrs 20min)

It was tough to leave the Loots family after such a lekker stay, but the swells were small off the beach launch. I stayed close to shore across the main bay, then paddled up to a chokka fishing boat whose crew got quite a fright as I came around it, some fun colourful words followed. In the middle of the bay I counted 35 boats anchored in a group, using massive light bulbs above deck to attract the chokka, bright enough that the holiday houses along the shore have to draw their curtains at night.

Coming into Oyster Bay, normally a big tricky surf line, was straightforward with a well-chosen exit point. We camped on the balcony of the Oyster Bay Beach Lodge (the lawn was full), hosted by Nic and Stephanie, who looked after our every need from breakfast to dinner. One of the most relaxing atmospheres of the whole trip.

Day 40 – Oyster Bay to St Francis, 34km (3hrs 20min)

Paddlers from St Francis came to Oyster Bay to keep me company, and with no wind or swell to worry about we paddled right along the shore, passing the spot where Eskom once planned to build another nuclear power station. A school of dolphins joined us on their way to St Francis Bay, the third day running I’d seen them make that same run. Rounding Cape St Francis lighthouse the NSRI came out to greet us, and we picked up another bunch of paddlers at the main beach, swelling our numbers to almost twenty.

Around Shark Point we caught a wave or two for fun near Bruce’s Beauties, where our host for the next few days, Etienne Buys, arrived by ski boat, and I hopped on the wash for the rest of the way to the Krom River mouth. Paddling into the St Francis canals, past the impressive homes along the banks, you then see the devastation caused by a recent fire, a very sad sight.

Day 41 – St Francis to Sardinia Bay, 63km (5hrs 43min)

The forecast for Christmas Day looked good for a big paddle, originally planned as a short hop to Jeffreys Bay, but with my old paddling mate Ralph “Tulips” Teulings talked into joining me, we decided to cross the bay in one go instead, at some points as far as 15km from land. What a great downwind paddle, though it got tricky where wind swell ran against the current, throwing up steep waves that swamped us more than once. Twelve years of paddling together meant we knew how to keep an eye on each other out there.

Coming into Sardinia Bay I was apprehensive, remembering huge surf on my last visit, but after rounding the reef the surf turned out to be no issue at all. We got back to our hosts around 2pm to find they had waited for us before starting their Christmas lunch, treating us like family for every meal, a fishing trip on the boat, and even Christmas gifts for two total strangers who’d turned up mid-expedition.

Day 42 – Sardinia Bay to Summer Strand (PE), 28km (2hrs and change)

Three more paddlers joined for the leg into Port Elizabeth, on the water at 8am. The westerly held as forecast for a pleasant downwind all the way to Cape Recife, where more locals joined for the last leg into Summer Strand. We had some fun sneaking inside the reef at the point, then surfed the waves down the coast, good video footage came out of that stretch. The plan for the next day was to cut straight across the bay to the Sundays River.

Day 43 – Summer Strand to Sundays River, 34km (3hrs 20min)

A straightforward paddle, holding the GPS heading straight across Nelson Mandela Bay with little happening out in the middle beyond a few dolphins playing near St Croix Island, and two ships at anchor waiting their turn at the harbour. Coming ashore at the river mouth could have been tricky at spring low tide, but staying clear of the fast-flowing river mouth itself made it work out fine. The only real cost was a 400m portage of the boat to the vehicle, counted as Dusi training.

Day 44 – Sundays River to Cannon Rocks (Boknes), 69km (6hrs 30min)

The first paddling day that didn’t start with a cup of coffee, which may explain the grumpiness. Leaving the river mouth was tricky, taking a few foamies on the chest before finding the gap in the waves. This stretch of coast is all sand dunes, the most spectacular in the country but giving little sense of progress since they all look the same, until a 5km run of cliffs near Woody Cape that paddlers on the PE to East London Surfski Challenge both love and hate for never seeming to get closer.

Visibility was good enough to see Bird Island clearly, and rounding the northern point of the bay brought my first real shark sighting, a small hammerhead, and something bigger heading the other way. Coming into Cannon Rocks was tricky with the tide low and swell running at 2.7m, but the shore crew found the best line and we avoided any drama, though one of the trackers had stopped working along the way.

Day 45 – Cannon Rocks to Port Alfred, 38km (3hrs 20min)

Rain overnight proved our tents offered less protection than an upturned colander. The forecast promised a good downwind similar to the day before, but the swell at Cannon Rocks was pretty big, bigger still from the water’s edge than it looked from the dune above. Entering with Fred Cresswell and two other paddlers, we mistimed the set, the first wave broke a foot in front of us, and the foamie swallowed us whole. Fred lost his boat to the rocks; I held onto mine through the next four waves with all my accessories dangling loose from their safety lines.

Eventually clear of the surf, word came over the radio that Fred’s ski was damaged and he was out. The three of us pushed on toward Port Alfred riding wind chop and swell, the last great downwind of 2012. With the swell and wind still building by the time we neared Port Alfred, I chose to enter via the river mouth rather than risk the beach, radioing ahead to check nothing was breaking across the entrance. Told it was clear, I backed off a monster set looming behind me just in time as it crashed across the entrance, then sprinted for the breakwater as the next wave caught me from behind, managing to stay upright and duck behind cover before the one after that.

The others had hung back and let the set pass, certain I’d been swallowed by it. When we were all back together on the beach there was a lot of nervous laughter to go around. That was enough excitement for 2012.