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.