Coming back to life

Circumnavigating Lantau with two fire service officers today.  Both of them are fit as fiddles so I'm a little apprehensive, especially since this is my first long trip (70km) after my surgery/ physio.

Hello ocean, ready or not here I come!

Island Hopping route

Attempted the Is. hopping route today, attempted and failed, more or less.

I've been reading Vic McAuley's book "Solo," as I was already familiar with the outcome of the expedition, every moment of humor and triumph detailed in the book was marred by a pang of sadness and loss. Seeing the picture of Andrew's little boy crying did me in, I started sobbing too.

I quite agree with everyone else that what Andrew did was selfish, but coming down to it, I don't think I could have resisted either if I were in his shoes. Sea kayaking is a funny thing, it plants the seeds of endless possibilities, and someone like Andrew is bound to test out his beliefs, his limits, and his inventions.

Which is a long way to say, it's impossible for me not to sympathize with Andrew. It also rekindled my enthusiasm, I'm not ready to come out right to say I'm going to commit to a second attempt yet, but the wheel is already rolling.

So I've been reading that in the last two days, and it brings back so much memories of testing situations in trips, and so many what-ifs, I actually felt sick to my stomach, so much so that I could not eat anything. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast on Tuesday, I did have a can of instant coffee yesterday, but had absolutely no food nor fluid since, and I decided to ... yeah, go paddle.

So I was going to do the Is. hopping route: DB-> Peng Chau -> Kau Yi -> Chau Kung -> Hei Ling -> Mui Wo -> DB. That was the plan.

I was feeling a little weak as I lifted my kayak to the water. No problem, I was so excited about paddling again, I didn't think to grab some food before I go. So I paddled out in high spirit, even made it to the rock garden that guards the DB pincher in 8 minutes, which is actually faster than my pre-NZ speed.

But my stomach was already growling at that point!

No problem, I'm no stranger to paddling in hunger. So I pushed on, mucked around with my painter line and paddle leash (one of them snapped and I had to use a spare.) By the time I made it to Tung Wan of Peng Chau I was already having doubts in my ability to do 25K in my condition. I drank half of my water hoping it will settle the stomach, but it did not. I decided to skip Kau Yi, paddled straight to Chau Kung Is., was tempted to just round CKIs., but thought that would definitely be cheating, so I pressed onto Hei Ling.

I was still doing okay at the HLIs. storm shelter, but then as I crossed the channel over towards the ammunition storage facility, I noticed a Kaito heading straight for me ... so I sprinted as hard and fast as I could. The Kaito missed me by a meter or two, which might sound like decent distance, but it's actually hair-raisingly close. I was banging on keeping my clothes dry and head straight to a restaurant after my paddle, but the boat wake had me drenched through and through. I started to get chilled (from being wet,) and I took on an inch of water in my cockpit (no spray deck because of fair weather condition,) and I didn't have a sponge (because of poor planning.)

When I finally glided back into flat water free of looming threats of rogue kaitos, I actually doubled over holding my stomach. I didn't realize how incapacitating hunger can be. I also started to get a little dizzy from the rock bottom blood sugar level. I paddled, stopped, doubled over for a while, paddled again, stopped again, my stomach refused resolutely to settle.

So I gave Mui Wo a miss too, and headed straight back to DB. Unfortunately I was too drenched to be served in any restaurant, so I went to the freezing supermarket to pick up some take out. Every step towards home was a challenge, I was tempted to just find a bench and devour my take out dinner right there and then. Self-denial is definitely not my strong point.

DB> 1:56

"rock garden">2:04

(departing) Peng Chau> 2:40

(departing) Chau Kung Is> 3:12

(rounding NE tip) Hei Ling Is.> 3:30

Storm shelter entrance> 3:45

I was fading at this point and could not concentrate on anything other than my hunger, was also starting to get dizzy.

(landing) DB> 5:03

Got home and ate like there is no tomorrow. For about an hour after I finished my take out meal, I still felt ravenous. I'm only beginning to feel stuffed now, like any good thanks giving turkey should be.

I think I'm going to have a soak in the tub, and then call it a night.

The bird escaped its cage :)

It has been a long time since I blogged. It has been a long time since I felt like I'm being myself. I can't even make myself pick up the phone when my friends called, it's like, if I'm not paddling, I'm not worthy of their friendship. I am ... nobody.

So it is no coincidence that I blog again when I paddle again :-)

21-Nov-2010 (Sun)

DB -> Kwai Shek -DB (about 20km)

Launch: 1535

Land: 1855

Paddled Martlet with a plastic/alloy paddle from the boat club.

Weather was "fine," if smoggy can be called fine. The sea breeze was gentle, the sun was warm on my skin. The water undulated gently, I sat high up on the thick foam padding with my knees together, not a worry of capsize. But I was sort of worried -- NZ has changed me. I have had my first, second, third, fourth and countless involuntary capsizes there. The certainty that it can't happen, has left me.

Should I berate myself for being unprepared? I had a T-shirt and a pair of shorts on, no sun screen, no sun hat, no sun glasses. Didn't bring a sponge or bilge pump, didn't even bring my PFD, paddle float or spraydeck. Yet I felt fine -- paddling should be a simple pleasure. I am sick of nagging myself.

I fought and argued with Paul my mentor, I thought he was too critical of me, too harsh, too unreasonable. Yet his sentiment has rubbed off. The paddle was uneventful, you can hardly call it an "adventure," which I am grateful -- Paul disapproves of the entire concept of an "adventure," and I'm starting to appreciate where he is coming from.

I was listening to Pink Floyd's "Time" when I suddenly decided I have had enough inactions. I'm sick of killing time and not living. So I just grabbed my C-strobe and walked down to the boat club. In 10 minutes I was on the water. I love the spontaneity of it. I owe Pink Floyd one.

I wasn't sure how far I would go, the last time I paddled, I was still under the impression that I am "crippled," that I have to "take it easy." The sport med doctor says my shoulder is strong but has signs of inflammation indicating overuse. So naturally, after 3 or 4 km of paddling, I tell myself I have had enough, my shoulder is sore, I have to go back.

The mind is a funny thing, I went back to physio, my therapist says "your shoulder is good as new and there is no point continuing physio anymore. You should just head back to the water." That's all it takes to unlock the mind. When I launched yesterday, I wasn't planning on going very far, but then I kept going and going. I paddled past Disney, past Tsing Chau Jai ... once I rounded the corner I realized I was on the familiar old route that I used to paddle almost every night before NZ. It just seems so obvious that I have to complete that route, no more 10k baby paddles.

So I kept paddling, I grinned like an idiot the whole time, it's like being reunited to your long lost lover. When I saw West Lamma Channel, I felt a pang of guilt. It used to look so familiar to me, I know exactly which boat is anchored and stays there long term, which boat is sneaking up slowly on you. But I found I was completely unfamiliar with the scene yesterday. I don't recognize any of the boats anchored there. Disney also finished building their reclaimed land, the three boat docks, the flood lights, along with the busy traffic were all gone.

Instead, my water was littered with garbage and recreational boaters. I don't know why I should feel so surprised, hasn't it always been that way? Wasn't I shocked to find nobody else on the water in NZ? It's a shame though, the sun felt so warm and gentle on my skin, I really wanted to strip and paddle in my birthday suit, something I could never do in the south island chill.

I was a little worried about paddling against the tidal race at Kap Shui Mun, but turns out the tide was gentle (will you believe I launched without even checking the tide chart and the weather forecast?) I even managed to catch a few boat wakes and was ecstatic -- my boat is unloaded and light, despite my bad shoulder and weak muscle I managed to pick up the speed and surfed along. Whoever says sea kayak isn't an adrenaline sport?

But for most part, the journey was uneventful. My shoulder started to burn a little after I turned around at Kwai Shek. So I leaned back and laid myself flat on the aft deck, and instantly I started to giggle. The last time I was in that position, I was paddling Curiosity, about 4 km from Caroline Bay, thirsty as, full of blisters, chilled, could hardly keep my eyelids open, it took me 2 hours to cover that 4 km!!! The kind of stupid things we put ourselves through... yet that 26 hours of paddle has been the best memory of my lifetime. I can't think about it without putting a smile on my face. It defines light and darkness for me, it also seems to define my life.

After a short break on my aft deck, I paddled back towards DB, by the time I got close to Tsing Chau Jai, it was getting dark. All the pleasure boats around me had their white lights on, so I decided to dig out my C-strobe. I berated myself for putting it in the day hatch, my shoulder is still not perfect, and it's a major struggle to twist my arm back and try to pry the hatch open. But I did get it out. Grahame's criticism came back to me and made me blush in shame, he said a few strong words about my paddling in the dark without light -- well I did have light, it just probably wasn't visible. I think, I'm going to have to work on a way to hoist my C-Strobe higher up.

After I landed, I hosed myself down with the boat wash line at the boat club -- and I thought I was such a wimp. Turns out the Tasman Sea might have toughened me afterall.

This is how paddling should be, it shouldn't feel like training, it shouldn't feel like work, it shouldn't even feel like routine. It should be pleasure, solitude, personal enjoyments. I look forward to another paddle again, hopefully soon, hopefully tonight. I can't decide whether my back or my shoulder is sorer, but I'm no stranger to pain, and I don't dislike it.

trip prep musing

For someone my age, I've certainly done a fair bit of traveling, and I tend to stay in countries I visit for at least 6 months, so you'd think I must be getting good at it by now.

Kids are counting down for Christmas, I'm counting down to fly.  I remember being stressed before I flew to Japan, and I remember being stressed before I flew to Indonesia, but I most certainly haven't felt as stressed as I am right now.

This is ridiculous, I worked darn hard for this trip, and I still can't shake the feeling that I haven't done enough preparations.  Will I find enough fresh water? (I don't have a desalinator)  Will I get lost? (my garmin etrex is broken) How will I keep in touch? (still can't find a charger for my iridium handset so I'm not even going to bring it)  Will I bump into killer whales?  Will I be able to hold my bladder long enough? (I'll be wearing long john wet suit pants and dry suit tops so good luck taking that off while perching precariously on deck.  For the first time in my life, I have to concede Freud has a point when he says girls envy boys for having penises.) 

And all these are supposed to be fun.  Didn't I airily tell Dennis that this whole trip is 90% preparation and only 10 percent on-water performance?  It's just like me to open up a can of worms and have to eat it too.

Ok, that's enough.  Back to do some more packing now.

NZ South Island preparation and musing

For Freya, launching into a journey around a continent is "not an effort," it's just a walk in the park for her.

Yet here I am, scared out of my wits about paddling around an absolutely miniscule island. (And I won't even have to deal with crocodiles.) 

It's silly to compare what I'm doing with her accomplishments, but still, reading her blog refilled me with motivations that I've lost since around August.

All morning, I've been on googleearth drafting my route and escape plans for my NZ South Island trip.  

I conceded long ago that my greatest fear is not knowing what I don't know; playing GE helps me alleviate that fear.  When I see a town near shore on GE, I look it up on google, I wonder if I will get cell phone coverage in the area, whether I can find fresh water, or a sea side town with restaurant and a B&B.  The process is a lot of fun, which I enjoy immensely.  

And it feels strangely familiar.  There was a time when I was naive and didn't know the sea can be wrathy, I imagined my endurance was limitless.  I would consult no one but googleearth, and I would take Indian Summer wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

I've since taken many lessons from the sea, some of which frightened me so much that I was forced to grow up against my wish.   I took a 2 years break from kayaking and went to Japan.  To be honest, when I left Hong Kong, I thought I would never paddle again, the close encounter with a sealiner on East Lamma Channel was the last straw, I thought for sure that I have had enough.

The two years sabbatical was good for me in many ways, I wasn't physically on the water, but I had a lot of time to digest what I've done, what I did wrong, and more importantly, what I did right, because I'm still alive, and I still can't stop loving the sea.

After I flew back to Hong Kong in March 2009, as the MTR took me out of Lantau, I got stung with a pang of pride and guilt.  Some foreigners were exclaiming, "oh look at the sea, it's so beautiful."  The remark made me smile, yes, it's beautiful, it's MY sea, the sea Dennis and I used to paddle in, where my home is a few hours paddle away.  I looked longingly at Siu Ho Wan, at the Brothers Islands, I wished I was on the water in the sun, instead of the air-conditioned train compartment.  I couldn't believe I had consented to leave Hong Kong, I couldn't believe I had stopped paddling.  I missed the sea so so much.

I paddled avidly since I came back in March; Dennis and I managed to sink Indian Summer by late April.  But I stand by the old wisdom, what didn't kill you makes you stronger.  I had the confidence that my kayak can take me anywhere within Hong Kong, nothing is out of my comfort zone.  (Then again, I really shouldn't speak too soon :))

But I do wonder at my arrogance.  I'm not a strong paddler, I'm not fast, I haven't got power or speed.  I have decent endurance, but I'm definitely not top notch.  My skill level is only so-so, and I wouldn't say my rolling is bomb proof.  My only "advantage," if you can call it that, is that I've already made many mistakes, and thank goodness I don't usually make the same mistake twice.  I know the local water well, I know the local weather pattern, the local geography.  I know what's within my comfort zone, and I know not to tread too far out of it.

New Zealand is going to be completely foreign though.  There is no way for me to predict when I'll be taken out of my comfort zone.  And when that happens,  I'll break down and announce, "this is it, I have had enough, I want out."  

Right now, in my comfortable room, in front of my computer, a domestic long hair asian wall flower is writing this with a smile, wondering when that time comes, whether she will pick herself up and push on, or is she going to be "sensible" and go home.

Head trainer on DB

Finally ran into the head trainer in the DB gym today, apparently he thinks I'm not trying hard enough on the set.  He said the weights I'm using are too light for me, and when I told him I was going for endurance not power, he told me plainly, "rubbish!"

Haha, I never thought a trainer would ever tell me I'm not working hard enough.  Then again, I didn't tell him I'm paddling my kayak 6:45 tomorrow morning, this is just my night time wound-down~

In all honesty I really enjoyed him.  Turns out he used to do a lot of karate and he wrote a book on the subject.  He gave me a signed copy as I was about to leave the gym, the photos and the discussion on zen and bushido brings back a lot fond memories.  I wonder what happened to me?

Right, paddling early tomorrow, off to bed now.

Back to Normal

I'm finally coming out of seclusion. Grahame e-mailed me urgently for some of my measurements for the cockpit fitting, I think he got a little pissed off that I stopped communicating.

Paul called on Monday night, he is still very polite and measured when he talks to me, possibly because I told him I was disappointed and angry about our team performance, but he did finally say what I expected him to say -- that I have not communicated with my teammates enough.

I was going to blame Yuki again, and I am not just saying this after the fact, even before the race, I have been telling Carol and Dennis, and also hinted to Paul and some of his friends, that I am getting very sick of listening to Yuki's verbal assaults and tantrums. They are mostly directed at Paul, Paul's friends said if Paul is happy to put up with it, it is not in my position to worry about it. But it does bother me, anybody can lose self control when physically exhausted; but it appears Yuki makes no effort to even be civil; and Paul makes no effort to stand up for himself. Listening to Yuki snap at Paul makes me want to snap at Yuki, which I refuse to do, so I chose to walk away.

But that's not strictly true; I do have a habit of running off on my own, on kayaks or on my feet.

And even before Paul said so, I have written in my blog that I didn't pay enough attention to the team aspects. I think I lack the social maturity to take up the responsibility and try to influence my teammates.

In early October, I was suffering from over-training (I did moon trekker + MCH 9-10, then MCH 1-5, then Jardin's Lookout + Mt. Buttler + Mt. Violet + the Twins + Pat Sin + Cloudy Hill + MCH 4-6,) my lactic acid never got a chance to clear, my speed begun to drop, and I told Paul I was considering resigning from the team, because I didn't think I will be fast enough to make it in 30 hours and I didn't want to hold other teammates back. At that time, Paul told me that during the race, everybody walks on his own, the faster members will just have to wait at the checkpoint, so I shouldn't feel pressured to be as fast as everybody else in the team.

I took his words as permissions to go at my own pace. I sort of knew that wasn't his intension, he didn't want me to feel pressured, but he wasn't exactly giving me permission to go through the entire course on my own without my team. It wasn't nice of me to take his words out of context, but I have to say, it's very ... typical.

After talking to Paul, I felt I have kept silent long enough, it's about time I started talking to Yuki. So I wrote on her FB wall, expressing my disappointments. Her LP "seniors" jumped on me and missed no chance to tell me what an over ambitious, inconsiderate git I am, it's rather amusing that none of them were on the trail with us, none of them had trained for the event or attempted the event, none of them knew how Yuki behaved during training (or lack of training) and also during the race, yet they felt they were in a position to lecture me on the "true value of trailwalker."

Yuki blocked me from her wall and deleted me from her friend list, which didn't surprise me. So I wrote her a private message directed at our entire team instead. I didn't expect her to listen to what I have to say, she is so full of herself right now, any criticism simply bounces off her. But I did what I could and I can honestly say that I did it for her sake. It would be so much easier for me to keep quiet and forget her like a bad dream.

Then Dennis called last night, I was so happy to hear from him. He actually read my entire blog entry! (and it's ridiculously long!) It's almost as good as having him on the trail with me. At least we get to debrief together, which brings back fond memories. Dennis seemed entirely too happy to see me suffer. He still hasn't forgive me for what I put him through on the water. I'm too glad to have his moral support. I did second guess my decision to write to Yuki. She did react poorly, no more than I expect, but I had to wonder if I am creating more problems for my team by writing to her with honesty when I knew she isn't ready to listen.

Called Carol this morning, life is going to go back to "normal," if my life ever was normal :)