Narcissism

Paddling enthusiast Dean

I read or heard one time that bloggers are narcissists because blogging is a bit egoistic. If that's so then anyone that writes a letter to the Editor of a newspaper, writes a book about climbing Everest, for example, or performs in public is a narcissist, or not?

I disagree with that view. I enjoy blogging for a number of reasons. I enjoy sharing my paddling environment with people who also paddle but are far removed from the sea or paddle in a totally different seascape. I enjoy sharing pictures with my paddling buddies. I like to reflect on the days paddle as I compose my blog entry. I like to share insights as I develop as a kayaker and sometimes its just about thinking out loud.

Blogging not only allows me to share my experience but its also an avenue to connect with other bloggers all over the globe. That makes my kayaking world a richer place.

New hip pads

Snug as a bug in a rug

For the quality of kayak and the money I spent to buy it, the Nordkapp sure came with a crappy cockpit set-up. They provide an adjustable system that accepts foam (not supplied) to fair out the seat to the owners hip width which is what I did.

Last Wednesday after Malcolm and I were out to the Cape I could barley hobble when I got back to the put-in. One piece of foam I installed had slipped down and ended up under my butt. In the rocking sea it gradually caused my hip to seize up.

Foolishly, I had a perfectly good set of hip pads in my old Necky Looksha IV that hadn't been used in almost two years. I should have put them in right from the get-go but never took the time. I purchased them from our local kayak store, The Outfitters, and they are the cats meow. The zippered pouch holds the mini-cell foam wedges secure and comes with an assortment of wedge sizes to get just the right fit.

Now the boat just caresses my hips (it is after all a "she") and I'm as snug as a bug in a rug.

On the eve of winter (2)

Inside Brigus

Having paddled up from Colliers we arrived at Brigus where we weighted the options for lunch as cormorants waited on the rocks above our heads. As there was nowhere close to get out of the boats, we retraced our steps to Marysvale where we stopped earlier to answer the call of nature.

Picnic time

We arrived back at Marysvale to have lunch around 1:30 at this site nestled between the hills. Even though the light gave a warm glow to the surroundings, it was cool but pleasant. A quick visit to a monument commemorating war dead and we were on our way again to do a short crossing of Colliers Bay.

Homeward bound

Having crossed over to the other side of Colliers Bay we handrailed for a while and did a bit of rockhopping.

In failing light

We'd lolly-gagged a bit all day without realizing it gets dark earlier these days. Still some 5 kms from the put-in I suggested to Dean we should probably step on it.

Under the Blue Hills of Avondale

Dean set the pace as we scurried back to the put-in trying to avoid having to drive home in darkness. The danger of moose accidents increases in darkness and while I don't mind writing off my car, the loss of my kayak would be too much to bear.

The tally for the day was 26.5 kms. A straight line, as the crow flies, paddle of 20 kms became 26.5 just by meandering along the shore. And, we're ready for winter.

On the eve of winter (1)

The bottom of Colliers Bay

Clyde, Dean, Hazen and I had an eve of winter paddle on Sunday from Colliers to Brigus and back. While its not officially winter until next weekend, it felt winter-like as the temperature at put-in was abut-5C. In the absence of wind it wasn't uncomfortable dressing and we were soon on our way generating heat with the paddles.

Cruising along massive cliffs

Leaving Colliers the east side is dominated by cliffs of the Harbour Main volcanic rocks. The Harbour Main group are the oldest rocks on the Avalon Peninsula upon which all the other formations are deposited.

Clyde wore his helmet

This weekend Clyde wore his helmet, not so much to protect his noggin' but for warmth (I think!) because that's why I wore mine today. I wear my neoprene skullcap on cold days and the helmet over it because the skullcap is not very fashionable.

A gentle swell

Proceeding up the shoreline we had just the gentlest of swells that added interest to paddling around rocks and along the cliffs.

It was cool but comfortable

The last couple of days a short cold snap has descended on the Avalon Peninsula where we've been having an unusually warm December. We should be in the throes of winter proper but its forecasted to warm up above zero again.

Pot of gold

The cold made this small waterfall cascading over the rocks turn partly to icicles made a small rainbow when viewed at the right angle to he sun. Here Hazen is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Hole in the wall

What makes a scenic day paddle? How about rocks and passages, sea stacks, caves and arches? Someone to share them with on a cool, sunny almost winter day? The answer is all of the above.

Layered rocks

Paddling on up the coast we came upon a narrow slot between the cliff and some rocks. Taking time to gauge the rhythm of the sea we pushed through and this amazing vista opened up. It was like hide your eyes - surprise.

The alternating red and gray sedimentary rocks indicate changes in depositional environment. The red being deposited in shallower, oxidizing waters and gray in deeper waters without oxygen to oxidize (i.e. rust) the iron hematite in the sediment.

Arriving at Brigus

So, we arrived at our outward destination for the day, Brigus. We paddled around the headland and into Brigus harbour where we discussed options for lunch. It was a bit after 12:30 and some of us were ready to eat but it would have to wait until we returned to Marysvale where we dined in style on a picnic table.

Heads or tails?

"The" Cape

This is a map of the area between St. John's and Cape Spear. On Wednesday Malcolm and I did a paddle directly from the harbour at St. John's to Cape Spear. Its the second time I've done this paddle with Malcolm.

I've also done it one time with Stan but we paddled down into Freshwater Bay and followed the shoreline.

They are different paddles to the same destination, something like both sides of a coin.

Far from shore

Setting a straight line course for the Cape means open ocean paddling. For me it becomes an inward paddle in the sense that once I'm in tune with the ocean I can establish a rhythm and become lost within myself.

The land is to starboard, as always is the sun (this time of year especially low in the sky) and therefore the light tends to overwhelm the camera. Not ideal for photography.

Spriggs Point

Paddling along the shoreline the route to the Cape has lots of stunning rock formations and cliffs. In this case the paddle is more of an interaction with the environment; a chance to observe and drink it all in.

The Cape in more common big seas

It is better to stand off the Cape in bigger swells because hidden shoals throw up steep seas near the Cape. Sitting out at the Cape in the undulating ocean is a peaceful, tranquil feeling. Part of that feeling may be due to reaching a goal at the end of a paddle in big seas. Its not a destination a lot of people make.

The Cape on a sunny, calm day

There are two ways to get out to the Cape, handrailing along the shoreline or a straight crossing. Its a matter of heads or tails. For me, I'd like to have both options and just keep that coin in my pocket.

Centenary paddle

Leaving for Cape Spear

Yes ladies and gents, today was my 100th time in the boat this year. Malcolm called me yesterday with a proposal to paddle to the exposed Cape Spear, the most easterly point in North America. I thought what a coincidence and what an exclamation mark to put on number 100.

We sized up the ocean from Fort Amherst concluding there was no reason why we shouldn't proceed. We put-in at Prosser's Rock Boat Basin paddling between the fishing boats tie up there just inside the entrance to the main harbour.

This would be my last opportunity to take a picture without being bounced around.

Making our way across St. John's Bay

We got out of the harbour without incident as the swell was running almost straight in and there was a bit of rebound from each side of the Narrows. We conferred and agreed we'd just as well make a direct crossing to Cape Spear.

The larger swells were about two metres directly into us with no wind to speak of. It was fantastic paddling. Oddly, I found I could get mini surf rides on the back of the swells as they passed under me.

Fog threatened to roll in

We made super time reaching Blackhead when the wind picked up at 12 knots from the SE and fog rolled in around the Head. Our bright sunny day ended early. That wasn't in the forecast but we were undeterred as we set a course for just inside the Cape in case the fog crept over us.

What started as a sunny, wind free day had changed but it was still an awesome paddle in swell that averaged between 2 and 3 metres.

Objective reached

We reached the Cape after paddling an hour and 5 minutes. Not bad at almost 4 knots an hour.

The sun was partly obscured by the low hanging clouds and the threat of fog hanging around the Cape. We paddled out past the Cape to a point where we could faintly see North Head in the distance but stopped before the point where passage to Ireland begins. We hung out for a while before we turned for home.

Within sight of Cabot Tower

We left the Cape under threat of fog rolling in so we took a bearing for Blackhead and if it stayed out we'd cross directly to the entrance to St. John's Harbour. At Blackhead we agreed it was a go for a direct crossing. Malcolm makes good time in the following sea as Cabot Tower sits on the hill overlooking our destination.

Every now and then we'd look over our shoulder in case a ship was entering the harbour at the same time. Looking back I was struck by the seas rearing up behind us that were driving us towards our goal.

Back inside the Narrows

As we arrived near the entrance to St. John' Harbour, known locally as "the Narrows" the Coast Guard ship Sir Wilfred Grenfell was leaving port. We kept to port of the channel for larger ships and kept paddling until we were in. Malcolm stopped in front of the Battery for a quick word before we re-entered Prosser's Rock Boat Basin where we took out amidst the heavy smell of diesel fuel on the water.

I hobbled about stowing my boat and gear because for some reason my wonky hip decided to act up. No matter. We shook hands as I departed feeling very content with what was a great centenary paddle - thanks Malcolm.

Paddling buddies

Small rock garden

I remember my first KNL event in 2004, it was the clubs AGM. I knew one person. Everyone else seemed to know each other; there was a sociable feel to the gathering before the start of business.

The next year I paddled with a few of the members and attended presentations at winter events. I gradually got to know more club members. Then, I offered myself for a position on the Board and really got involved.

This past Saturday we had our annual Christmas party. It was very well attended by about 45 people, most of whom I managed to share a few words with. I felt comfortable, as though I was among friends. That's probably not unusual because I see some once or twice a week over long stretches.

I made a wise choice to join the club because I've met not only some great paddling buddies but a great bunch of people that I consider friends.