Pretrip:
I was going to launch on the 4th, despite a gale force warning, I felt sure it's safe enough within the Sound. The idea was to camp within the Sound to make sure I had all the gears I needed, if I've left something behind, I wouldn't be too far out for Grahame to bring them for me.
But that is not to be, too much packing to do, cutting up the NZ Pilot and the Nautical Almanac, sorting out the mailing packages, last but not least, meeting up with Peter - that took more time than I expected, and Grahame said it wouldn't be safe to paddle in the dark in the sounds.
Had a fretful night of sleep, been losing sleep for a few days, I don't remember ever being so nervous in my life! I've been sleeping well until Grahame, Linda and I talked about Paul's reaction to my trip on the phone. To be honest I haven't really paid anything attentions to what Paul said until Grahame brought it up, Paul was not impressed that I've decided to train in Hong Kong and came down to NZ just days before the trip begins. He thought I should have came down here to train, there is no way I can be ready for the NZ dumper surfs by training in Hong Kong.
Of course he is right, I fully agree with him in everything he said, but there is nothing he said that I haven't thought of. I've been kicking myself for not coming to NZ sooner. Even if I couldn't paddle with my knee injury, I could still be researching, getting my radio license, making connections, etc.
I was really touched when Grahame said he has been talking to Linda and Richard about my conversation with Paul; I've only just met them on New Years eve, but they are already like a family to me. I said I get cold, they discussed that and suggested I get some wool and polyprop, and took me to Blenhime to shop for that. Paul suggested I should drive up to the west coast to see the breaking surfs before I decide if I still want to do this trip, Grahame took me to Rarangi to look at the water under gale force wind. I came in as a difficult client, with a lot of demands for a robust, custom made kayak that will help me survive the South Island and other imaginary difficulties that I may or may not face, but from the moment we've met, they went far out of their way to look out for my best interests. I think they are quite worried that Paul's reaction would put a dint in my determination for this trip, it's funny that I haven't give any thought to what he said at all, with the exception that I've decided to do some surf practices in Kaikoura before I push on.
And yes, of course, I'm still going to do it. I won't know if I'm ready for it until I've tried. But if it gets too big for me, I'm not afraid to turn back.
Day 1 Anakiwa to White's Bay
5th Jan 2010
Launched at 0740, the kayak was SO heavy, I couldn't believe it. I had trouble lifting it onto the wheels! I got exhausted before I even managed to get it into the water. To get through Tori Channel with a slack tide, I had to launch at low tide, which means carrying a fully loaded kayak through muds and wet sand. Good thing Grahame and Linda know the area well and we found a ramp where I could push the kayak on its trolly all the way down to the water.
On the 1st, I paddled an empty Nordkapp (which I have christened "Curiosity"... the question is, who is the cat?) to Picton at a speed of appr. 8.6km per hour, and that includes stopping to take photos, fiddling with hatche cover, seat pad, etc. But with a fully loaded kayak, I couldn't make it to Tori Channel until 1:30, I was well over an hour behind schedule.
As Grahame and Richard had predicted, the only real difficulties in Queen Charlotte Sound was -- idiot boaters. One jet boat was zic zagging in a rather unpredictable manner, and somehow made a full circle around my Nordkapp -- with a line towing something behind it in the water! I tried again and again to dodge out of its way, and in the end, have decided to stay put and stop paddling until it gets out of my way.
I would have missed my exit to Tori Channel, but for an Interislander sailing right ahead of me! At Dieffenbach, I saw a seal! It was gone by the time I got my camera out, but I was sure I'll see more seals in the very near future.
Out of Tori Channel, I saw some overfalls and a bit of swells, but so far, there is nothing that I haven't seen in Hong Kong (except for the seal!) I was starting to think I was simply being silly to get so frightened about NZ water, I thought it was benigh enough and behaved much the same as the sea in Hong Kong.
The one thing I wasn't prepared for is the cold climate. Paddling in the Sound, I was well sheltered and there was very little wind, so I got very warm wearing just a thin shell and shorts. But once out of the Sound, the wind started to pick up, and I got so cold I was covered in goosebumps. I soon felt sick with the chill, by 4pm, I desperately needed to land somewhere to use the loo, and to look for more clothes in the hatches.
So I found a quiet little bay (the one south of Fighting Bay), saw that there was no pounding surfs, and made a beeline for what I thought was a sandy patch.
Turns out it wasn't sandy, it's full of small pabbles. It's not surf-free -- it just has a long lull. It was Tung Peng Chau all over again, I got caught in the first of a series of breaking surfs. I landed alright, but by the time I got the stuff out of my cockpit so that I can extract my legs out of the cockpit, the second surf pounded on Curiosty, she bounced up violently and rolled over -- with my ankle still attached to the foot rest! Not keen to have a fully loaded "indestructable" kayak banging into me, I jumped across Curiosity into the cold water as the surf pushes her further ashore, as the water retreats, it sucked Curiosity with it, so I bounced back onto the land side again. But before I could undo the footstrap, the next breaker pounded on us. We danced around for a few more cycles until I ended up on my butt, with Curiosity sitting affectionately on my ankle. I heard a sickening crunch, and thought, "oh crap, I broke my ankle right on my first landing. This has to be a world record."
Turns out it wasn't my ankle that made the crunchy noise, it's the glass of my GPS, which was tied to the top of my foredeck. Well now we know, between a Nordkapp and a Garmin GPS, which one is more robust.
I finally undid the strap around my ankle, swore "never again," and dragged Curiosity heavily up the beach. Day one wasn't even over, and I was already feeling disappointed and dispirited.
After a change into warmer clothes, an hour of rest, and a sugary hot drink with which to wash down the shock, I pushed Curiosity out to sea again. Expecting the dumper this time, I launched carefully and without any trouble this time.
I didn't thought I needed a GPS, but now that I know how good it is to have one, I miss having one. I didn't know my exact location anymore, and I didn't know at what speed I was traveling at. Not that you can get lost circumnavigating an Island -- you just have to keep it on your right hand side -- but I felt crippled all the same.
The wind picked up as I paddled across the opening of Port Underwood. I thought it was supposed to be a good shelter in all weather! White caps started appearing out of no where, and I suddenly noticed how very alone I was. Not one fish boat in sight, there is no way to get help should I get into troubles. I've always paddled solo, but I'm used to seeing other boats on the water all the time. There I was, not a soul in sight, no signals to my cell phone, and no longer certain where exactly I was. I felt so acutely lonely and helpless, I almost wanted to cry. I couldn't believe it was only hours ago that I was in the safety of Grahame's luxurious home, being pampered like a favorite child. What do I do this to myself for?
It was close to 6, the sun was setting, as I was heading west, it burned straight into my eyes. Not only was I still cold, I also started getting a headache from the glare of the setting sun. What with the white caps kicking up all over the places, I decided to call it a day and head for Robin Hood Bay.
But as I got closer to the Bay, the mountains shielded the sun from my eyes, and the wind also died down a little. With the glare blocked, I could see I wasn't too far from White's Bay, which is my goal for Day 1. With hot shower and a serviced camp site in mind, I changed course and paddled into White's Bay instead.
Landing there was no problem this time, it's well protected and there was no surf to speak of. But after my disatrous landing hours earlier, I wasn't taking any more chance. I will no longer trust any NZ beach. I put on my helmet, my PFD, and approached cautiously, watching for a long long time before I decided there might be a chance that it is actually a quiet beach with no surfs.
Landing was not difficult, but dragging the boat up proves to be impossible. I talked to a few girls to confirm that I was in White's Bay, to my dismay, they told me there is no hot shower, but one of the girls said, I think they saw the shock in my face and decided to rub it in, because one of them said, "oh don't worry, you will be numb in no time." With my last hope for a comfy night shattered, I dragged my feet back to Curiosity to take all the stuff out of the cockpit so that I could drag curiosity away from the waterline.
With all urgent matters out of the way, I called Linda to pour my heart out. She needs to know how much I missed her cooking, and how mean it was for them to pamper me so thoroughly. Their warm, peaceful home just made my first colorful day seem absolutely unbearable.
I then called Paul to check the weather, and for a much needed debriefing. There is no way to undo the mistakes I've already made, the only thing left to do is to talk it out and try to learn from it. He reckons I need to reduce the gears to the point where I can lift the kayak onto my shoulder, and to have absolutely nothing in my cockpit ... I don't think he quite realizes that I am but a petite, fragile asian wall flower.
All safe calls made, I started to drag my gears towards the grassy campsite. There, I met two angels: Charlie and Mary. They caught me when I stopped for a break from the toil, and asked me if I have read "Southern Exposure." The mentioning of the title nearly made me jump. Paul has recommanded the book months ago, and I tried and tried to look for it, but it's out of print, and none of the second hand bookshop I visited had it. With the amount of gears I had, I suppose it's not difficult to guess what I was trying to do, but still, c'mon, the first person to talk to me since I launched asked me have I read about circumnavigating the South Island ... ?
Turns out they are Seattlites, that's why I can understand their English :) They've read the book, they do some paddlings as well, so they are very sympathetic to my plight (?) They carried the rest of my gears to the camp ground, helped me move Curiosity up away from the beach, and invited me over to their camp site for a hot meal and some hot drinks. Ham... sunny-side-up... hot toast ... I was in cloud nine.
We had a very pleasant, long conversation, until I got too cold, and decided to call it a night. Fed up with my long hair which gets blown this and that way by the sea breeze and matting with cakes of salt in them, I took a pair of scissors and hagged it off before I curled up in my sleeping bag to sleep.
Day 2: Resting on Cloudy Bay
Jan 6th
Taking full advantage of the gale force warning, the blazen sun, and my need to sort out my gears, I took a day off from paddling and hung around lazily on the beach. Mary made me breakfast, I then borrowed their shower gel and dived into the cold shower. Believe it or not, the water is frigid, but it's still pleasant after the initial shock.
While I was in the shower, Mary noticed I left behind a lot of hair, she thought I was so stressed out about the trip I was losing hair! Turns out she has been a professional hair dresser for 28 years, so I gratefully accepted her offer to straighten out my messy hair cut. She found me a shaded spot and gave me a haircut right on the beach! Will you believe this, I got a professional hair cut on the beach!
The rest of the day, I took my time to dry out my gears, hand washed some of my clothes, repack my stuff, try to fit them all in the hatches so I won't have so much stuff in my cockpit, etc. Quite a few people walked by, saw all my gears and my "vehicle," and asked me if I was paddling around all of NZ. "Just the south island," I replied :) A small child walked past my tent and pointed at me, "mom, mom, I want to do that too," and his mom replied, "yeah, that's so cool." That made me smile, I'm sure sometimes in my mispent youth, I've seen some actions that stoked my curiosity too. Maybe I'm inspiring another generation of trouble-seekers.
Mary and Charlie invited me over for lunch and dinner, they even shared their precious wine collection, and their huge jar of juicy new zealand grown olives. I felt like I was on vacation.
Having said that, I was pulling half of my hair out trying to decide which item I don't need and won't need. I really need to reduce my load, there is simply no way I could go on like that.
Mary and Charlie came to my rescue again, turns out they were heading down south to Kaikoura and offered to carry some gears for me. I jumped at their offer and gave up 95% of my possessions, and was ready to paddle out with a sleeping bag, a tent, a grab bag, a change of clothes, some food, and a few liters of water.
A night chat with Paul Caffyn the weather and trip advisor, and I was ready for a good night sleep. I've been adviced there will be gale force NW wind, 35 knots in the morning, easing to 20 knots later in the afternoon. We both concluded that would be the best weather to travel down to Kaikoura...
Day 3 White's Bay to Ward's Beach (?)
Jan 7th
Woke up quite early in the morning, poked my nose out of my tent to admire the very red morning sky -- I groaned, and crawled sadly back into my sleeping bag. Red sky at dawn usually means bad weather ahead, red sky at dusk usually precedes fine weather for the next day.
But I did get the forecast from Paul, Fred also texted me the updated forecast in the morning, so it's not like I have not been advised. Mary came back from the beach cheerfully to tell me that the water looked nice and peaceful, I tried to smile, but I think I merely produced a grimace as I explained to her the red sky omen.
I ate like there is no tomorrow, felt stuffed to my eyebrows, changed into my watergears, and headed down to the water. Without the gears, Curiosity felt a lot more unstable, embarrasingly, she tossed me out of her cockpit first thing in the morning right in front of watchful well wishers and cameras!
The paddle out to the south end of Cloudy Bay was awesome. The Nor'westerly pushed steadily and firmly behind me, so that I was skating along with a very good speed, with very little effort to propel it forward. My only complain is that the rudder seemed rather unresponsive, the swells lifted the stern too far out of the water for the rudder to be of any use. It's a confusing thing -- to control course in a kayak without a rudder, you push with your left foot to stear it to starboard, but with a rudder, you kick the footrest on your right to steer to starboard. In gale force wind, you need to use every tool you have to control course, and I tried -- leaning, tilting, pushing with the left thigh, kicking the footrest with the right foot, but at the same time keeping the rudder lever pressed on the left ... it's an impossible task, and I struggled.
Paul advised to stay close to the shore if I were to paddle in gale force Nor'westerly, which I think was a good piece of advise, except I got much too close. As I left Cloudy Bay, tall swells kept breaking over my head and my stern. At some point I got creamed by a wave so violent it took my sunglasses out -- lanyard and all. I also kept getting hammered from the port side, at times it was a struggle to stay upright, which is all that I was focusing on.
Things got really out of control as I approached Cape Campbell. Somehow I failed to notice the breakers were getting more and more violent, frequent, and regular. When I finally did notice it, I just assumed that's the product of the landscapes -- capes and headlands tend to get stronger winds and waves. I was terrified when I finally realize, I was actually getting too close to the cape, and the water is getting too shallow, and I was being swept violently into the cape. I didn't want to land there, at least I didn't want to land on the windward side of the cape, the surfs were really something!
So I spun around and tried to paddle into the wind to escape the unplanned crash landing. I wasn't getting anywhere in the gusts though, and had to look for other solutions. So I spun 90 degrees and paddled parallel to the waves, but soon caught out of the coner of my eyes, hundreds of dark shadows lurking in the water, extending very far out from the cape downwind.
I thought, "this is great. I now have to choose to either crash land into the windward side of Cape Campbell, or get blown downwind into these reefs." I paddled as hard as I could to try to steer away from these dark shadows, I even caught myself saying, "dear god, if you exist, help me. I don't want to die just yet!"
I soon conceded I was fighting a losing battle, and my only option left was to focus on steering Curiosity as we get blown downwind into these shallow rocks and reefs. Once resigned to my fate, I felt surprisingly calm, I turned her bow downwind again, and got ready to do what I had to do. I didn't feel very confident, Curiosity's been broaching out of control all morning since we left the shelter of Cloudy Bay. But that's our last chance and hope.
I felt right like a fool as we got close to these "rocks." Turns out they weren't rocks! They were kelps!! THEN I remembered I've read about them in the NZ pilot, duh!
Feeling certain that my life's been spared, I let out a sigh of relief, and decided to celebrate with a cookie. So I pulled up my spray deck, opened my cookie jar in the cockpit ... and boom! a wave broke on my port side and flooded my cockpit and cookie jar with frigid sea water. Only *I* would risk flooding my boat for the sake of a cookie...
The sea begun to settle down a little by 6pm, it was still full of white caps, and I was still broaching all over the places, but at least it wasn't roaring and breaking all over me.
I knew I still had hours of daylight ahead, I knew should take advantage of a following sea while I could, because Friday was supposed to change into a Southerly, but I felt lucky just to be alive. Not entirely pleased with my decision to launch into a gale force situation alone, I decided to find a place to land while I still have a chance.
The tide was very low, the shore was mostly guarded by a lot of exposed rocks, so I paddled for another half hour before I finally found a suitable place to land. At 6:40pm, I rode the surf onto the black vocanic sands, climbed out, and dragged Curiosity up the beach without incidence. I ate a few drowned cookies, had some hot rice in my thermo, and texted Mary and Charlie to tell them I had landed and was safe -- I needed to hear myself say that, a part of me still wondered if I was off the hook yet.
Day 4: Ward's Beach to Igles Bay, Kaikoura
Jan 8th
I got up early enough, but it took me a long time to drag my kayak back to the water, and even longer time to launch ... successfully. I could hear the surfs rising through the night, the crashes sounded more and more violent, and sure enough, it looked rather formidable in the morning.
Eager to try my luck in the surfs, I downed the rest of the rice and quickly got ready to start. It took me half an hour to get it right. I moved Curiosity to the waterline, she got creamed and flooded, I had to drag her back up the beach, drain the water, and move her back to the water line again. Then I got in, but we got creamed before I had a chance to put my spray deck on, so I scrambled out of the cockpit, dragged her up the beach, drained her, and went back to the water line. When I finally got onto the water, it was 8:40. It took me well over 40 minutes to get out of the surfs, I felt hungry and exhausted before I even start the day's paddle!
I didn't know at what speed I was traveling at, but I felt slow and sluggish. I couldn't figure out why for a while, my muscle wasn't even sore! Eventually, I decided I was just too hungry.
God knows I tried to look for The Store. I was so hungry I could have ate a dolphin! But I couldn't find it, so I paddled on and on.
The sea was rather calm and flat in the morning, but the 20 knots southerly picked up abruptly at 2:30pm, let me tell you this: there is nothing warm or gentle or breezy about south winds in NZ! I got rather cold, but I lowered my head and tried to paddle hard, but still, at times I felt sure I wasn't making any forward progress.
After an hour or so, the swells started to really build up. North of Kaikoura, there are a lot of shallow rocks extending quite far off shore. The ones you can see, you can navigate around. But most of them were under water, and the huge swells tripped all over them. It's a bit like hitting every red light when you drive; tall swells kept tumbling over these rocks as I get near them, occasionally you get a really violent surge, and they all seem to explode right in front of me. I guess I was lucky, I only had to stop to let the surge break before I paddle past it, imagine being bombed by one of these monsters, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind, they were big enough to loop a sea kayak. They were coming from my port side though, so I guess I will just have a good old fashioned capsize.
Mary and Charlie told me they have steak and champaign waiting for me in Kaikoura, and I really, really wanted to make it there that night, I was getting so hungry. But the reefs and the southerly weren't helping, it was 9 by the time I got to Ingles Bay.
I would have tried to keep paddling into the wharf of Kaikoura despite the impending darkness, but for a very scary, nasty looking weather front looming over our heads. It's not supposed to get dark until 9:30, but it suddenly did got very dark ... and rain started to pour.
It got so bad, I couldn't tell if the booming sounds were of the surfs crashing onto the beaches, or if they were thunders. I've promised myself to be sensible for this trip, so I finally decided I would not risk my neck just for a bit of steak and champagne ... ;__;
But it took me a long long time to find a "good spot" to land. The wind was coming from the south, so I thought, if I just paddle to the south end of the bay, I will have offshore wind, and the surfs wouldn't be as bad. But there really is no quiet spot. I started making mental notes of the surf patterns, you have one or two booming, violent ones, then a series of moderate ones. I started counting the intervals between the sets, at some spots you get 30 seconds between the violent sets, other spots you only get 10 seconds. But I was indecisive, the pain of crushing my GPS still not forgotten, I hesitated for a good long time, watching the surfs roll and roar.
It was when the rain got heavier that I decided to "just do it." I didn't even bother to count the sets, I saw a big one booming, right away I turned into the beach, and paddled in with the next swell. I got washed up onto the beach, I tossed aside my paddle and ripped the spray deck off the cockpit, and boom, another powerful one crashes over my head and pushed Curiosity further onto the beach. The cockpit got flooded, but otherwise I managed to take Curiosity up the beach without any further damages.
Mary and Charlie tried to look for me that night, but without a GPS to pinpoint my exact location, it was an impossible task. With bitter thoughts of steak and champaign that I could have been having in my mind, I pitched a tent in the pouring rain in record time. With absolute confidence in the hatches, I no longer bother with dry bags. The trouble is, in pouring rain, everything still get very wet.
Went to bed with wet clothes, wet tent, wet mat, and wet down sleeping bag that night, my muscle's trembling rocked me to sleep. I briefly thought about dialing 111 to get help, my blood sugar was so low, and I was so cold, I thought I would never be warm again in my life.
Day 5: Ingles Bay to South Bay, Kaikoura
Jan 9th
Got up well before sunrise, but was too cold to crawl out of my sleeping bag. Finally got out of my tent around 8, tried to dry my stuff in the sun, and didn't get to launch until nearly 11am. By early morning, the surfs got so small they were almost cute. I launched Curiosity successfully on my first attempt.
The bitter thoughts of the cold night was soon forgotten as pods after pods of very naughty dusky dolphins swam and danced around me. They zig zag under Curiosity, jumped just in front of her pointy bow, I then saw another pod of them jumping and swimming at full speed towards me from outside of the bay, I was worried for a moment that they were going to jump right onto me and knock me out of the cockpit!
As I got near the reefs of Kaikoura Peninsula, the dolphins abandoned me, I was instead accompanied by a lot of tourist boats, taking tourists out to see seals, to dive, to swim with dolphins ... I got so startled that I was actually seen by humans, I had to pull my balaclava off.
On Friday, with the strong southerly, I had to give the reefs a very wide berth. But Saturday morning was calm, I had a lot of fun cruising between the reefs and overfalls. For once I felt glad that I was paddling without a companion, it would be so easy to just follow your friends ahead without thinking, and it would have been a dangerous thing to do despite the calm sea. Occasionally a huge surge washes over the reefs, and you can generally see them coming, but you do have to be careful and watch out for them before you get onto the wrong side of a rock.
When I got to South Bay, I gave Mary and Charlie a call, turns out they expected me on the north side of the peninsula! And I wasted two and a half hours paddling to get around it! But it was a good morning warm up. We met, they hugged me despite my very wet clothes, Mary then gave me a well desired hot chocolate -- turns out they secretly christened me "Coco," my name is just too hard to say =_=;;
They lifted my kayak onto their van, and took me into Peketa Beach camp ground. There, I was watered, fed, and showered. We had a light lunch of cheese, crackers and wine, I did my laundries, they then fed me some REALLY yummy abalone (paua), lightly battered and fried, which was followed by steak dinner, and pavlova with fresh strawberries. I went to bed feeling very content with the world.
Day 5: Peketa Beach, Kaikoura
Jan 10th
I was suppose to practice surf launching/ landing with Nat in the morning, but the sea was flat despite a gale force warning. So instead, Charlie, Mary and I went out to look for paua instead.
The water was coooold, I had my wet suit and dry suit on, but I was still freezing. I found quite a few under the rocks, but they were all too small to take. Charlie found a few bigger ones, but the fisheries and games department guys came up to measure them, and it turns out they were still too small to be taken. We could have been slapped with a $250 fines, but they let us go and gave us a knife to measure the sizes of the paua.
So we went home with one big paua. After 20 minutes of luke warm shower, I was still cold. Back at the campsite, Mary had potato and sausage fried up for us, the sun also came out as we started having our early lunch, so that warmed me up nicely.
Then it started raininig again, Mary and I decided to have a nap, at 2pm, I was rudely awaken by wind so strong it lifted up my tent -- with me inside! Shaken but not stirred, I scrambled out to peg it down right away.
Charlie and Mary took me down to downtown Kaikoura for the afternoon, we bought some fruits and groceries, doughnuts, cookies, Charlie also got a pair of neoprene booties, all eager to go into the water to hunt for paua again. When we got back, Mary made a really delicious dish called the "haystack" -- it has totilla chips in the bottom, with chilli and cheese on top, then lettuce, tomato, onions, to be topped with delicious gracamoli, sour cream, and sausa. I got so gluttonous I could hardly move after dinner. I was worried I wouldn't have room to eat the remaining pavlova!
The forecast looks rather ugly for the next few days. Not that I'm complaining, I do appreciate a break, and to be well fed and pampered for once, I also need to run some errands in town, but I'm also eager to make it down to the south coast before it gets too cold.
[blogged using Charlie and Mary's computer. Thanks again mates!]
