The idea has been lurking in the back of my mind as something to do 'one day' especially at the end of a few SW trips when having been paddling for a couple of weeks or more we would be well and truly fit enough.
The first time we were in the area and fit enough was on our circumnavigation in 2010 but at that stage after the best part of two months paddling when only a couple of days from home it was not even contemplated.
In 2011 we paddled from Cockle Creek to Port Davey and back and it was definitely on my mind but the weather was unsurprisingly not very cooperative.
The same again when in 2012 we spent three weeks paddling from Strahan to Cockle Creek, in fact we had such consistent and strong Easterlies along the South Coast that we had almost run out of food by the time we battled the NE headwinds around SE Cape and arrived a Cockle Creek.
Somehow the idea grew to the extent that this summer we were keeping a very close eye on the weather and were serious about making an attempt if life's busy schedule didn't clash with a perfect weather day.
We have been using WindGuru for some years for our long term forecasts and we have found it pretty accurate. By opening a free account WindGuru enables email alerts for designated spots and wind conditions.
So when the forecast average wind speed during daylight hours was less than 10kn at Pedra Branca I would receive an email like this.
Australia - Pedra Branca:
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Day 1 (Fri 4.4.2014):
7.3 knots (Average wind speed during daylight)
Day 2 (Sat 5.4.2014):
7.5 knots (Average wind speed during daylight)
Day 5 (Tue 8.4.2014):
5.9 knots (Average wind speed during daylight)
Day 6 (Wed 9.4.2014):
9.2 knots (Average wind speed during daylight)
We'd then refer to the BOM Met Eye for a much more detailed outlook for the days that were looking possible.
About a month ago we missed a perfect day as can be seen from the screenshots of the Met Eye page.
A perfect day as tail winds all day particularly on the way home!
As the summer crept on and the daylight hours shortened it was beginning to look as though we would miss our chance this season. That is until Saturday April 5th appeared as a possible. As usual we got into the habit of checking Met Eye at least once a day to see how things were looking as the day got closer and the forecasts more accurate.
We weren't paddling fit but we sort knew that we could do the distance even though Saturday's forecast didn't offer much, if any, sailing breezes.
So it was on. We stocked up with tins of ricecream, baked beans, fruit and muesli bars for an anticipated 10-11hours in the kayak and drove down to Cockle Creek.
I really didn't hold out any hope that this would be any more than an attempt, we weren't super paddling fit and nothing like this happens first time but I didn't say anything to Lynne. One last check of Met Eye just before bed on Friday night and the alarm was set for 5.30am to be on the water by 7am.
As we rounded Fisher Point the sun showed briefly on the horizon before disappearing behind the cloud but the day looked just perfect. From Second Lookout Point we headed out to sea on what turned out to be the wrong bearing, after all that planing too hah! We should have bothered to switch the GPS on to check but also we could see Pedra long before we expected to so once we were heading in right direction navigation was very simple.
He we go I thought, the long boring plod for a few hours until we get there, surprisingly though it went very quickly as we settled into the long established paddling rhythm that enables the mind to wander and dream far away from the task in hand. A couple of stops for something to eat and just enough SSW breeze to have the sails up but we weren't getting much help from the wind apart from when taking a break. At least then we were moving in the direction we wanted to go at a knot or so. Whenever I was conscious of my paddling it was to keep a relaxed and effortless stroke, the ever increasing distance from a safe landing looming in the back of my mind warning of any wasted effort and early fatigue that could spell serious trouble.
Slowly it dawned on us that Pedra Branca was actually quite big on the horizon in front of us and well this wasn't just an attempt we were nearly there, but bloody hell it's a long way back.
As we approached I counted three recreational fishing boats and groaned as inevitably we would be spotted and become the centre of attention. Attention that is usually negative with derisory comments such as "have you got rocks in your head?" Sure enough one of the tinnys was headed our way and surprisingly the four blokes on board were encouraging and supportive though we were asked if we had an EPIRB and then they checked we had a VHF but that was an invitation to call them if we needed help rather them checking we were properly equipped. One of them did shout "Are you still drunk?"but they were friendly and even proudly showed us some of the fish they had caught.
I was hungry but the pressure to keep moving was so much I thought I'll paddle for an hour before eating. An hour less from the three necessary to get us within cooee of the coast. When we did stop it was a quick guzzle of easily digestible energy rich rice cream, baked beans and tinned fruit though Lynne did have a slice of quiche which didn't settle well in her stomach and she felt slightly sick for a couple of hours.
By now into our second of hour on the return weariness had well and truly settled in so we started having short rest and a bite to eat every hour. This was sort of good but I felt it took me ages to get back into an effortless paddling rhythm but I couldn't wait to stop at the next hourly break. The third hour was nearly up, I was watching South Cape slowly being hidden by South East Cape not only was it going to disappear from view at just about the same time as our next hourly stop but that was three hours from Pedra Branca. We'd cracked it, not home, but within a distance we knew that little if anything could stop us.
By now both of us were suffering back ache from sitting in the boat for so long, my mind wandered to thoughts of Andrew MaCauley, a mere 9 hours in a kayak pah, what wimps we are! I found that if I forced myself to sit very very upright the ache went away but it couldn't stop me dreaming, as I had been for a couple hours of lying out flat on a lovely piece of grass near were we had launched that morning.
Crossing to our launching spot from Fischer Point had the potential to seem like it would take forever if you looked ahead at the beach so I looked to one side or the other, watching the trees and rocks on coast wizz by, it seemed like we were flying. A quick look ahead, out landing point looked even further away. Avert your eyes, watch those trees and rocks disappear behind us, we're flying. Suddenly I'm watching the rocks and trees just metres to our right. Both of us stop paddling without a word about 30m from the sand with just enough way on to get us to the beach without another paddle stroke. I surprised myself by actually remembering to pull the rudder up and the bow scrunched into the sand.
There finished the longest distance we ever paddled in a day ~74km and the longest time ever 9hrs45mins we've sat in our double. Surprisingly, there was only about five minutes difference between the outward leg and the return leg.
Postscript - We were by no means the first to paddle out to Pedra Branca.
Aboriginal leader Worrady recounted in 1831 that they would embark on long and dangerous voyages to islands as far as Eddystone Rock and Pedra Blanca, up to 25km off shore, stating that "their catamarans was large, the size of a whaleboat, carrying seven or eight people, their dogs and spears. The men sit in front and the women behind" (Worrady, as told to GA Robinson, 1831).
