Buenos días! (or good morning in Spanish)
Monday, 1 October 2007Have just returned from two weeks in Ibiza, in which time I spent scouring the island for a kayak to use.
Managed to track down this water sports centre close to where I was staying, but because he had no licence he could not rent me a kayak. But because Spain is in the European union like us they choose to not follow the rules so strictly so a compromise was reached in which I was a nemployees friend. This was in exchange for 4 cans of San Miugel and I was lent a boat. The bad news was it was a flat top ( like a hollowed surf board what you use paddles for) not a kayak, but it gave me a feel for the sea.
As a zipped around the bay with the sun on my back all was well with the world until I spotted a motor cruiser boat in the distance. I was some way out to sea by this point so I carried on with my course. He(the boat) is bound to change course around me(no restrictions on navigational channels for him).
When you are a little bit of a plastic sat on the sea you don’t half feel vulnerable to any vessel. As we both carried on the same course, which I had now decided was collision course, i still felt sure this guy would pass behind me but no, on he came.
I them took evasive action and changed my course, and he passed some 10 feet in front of me at speed, churning the water up so I had to turn the boat swiftly and frantically to hit the waves correctly so as not to take a dip into the sea. As he passed I noticed the German flag flying on the back, say no more.
Further looking through the internet found a guy who specialised in sea kayaks, and he would drop me one off at a stated location and pick it back up some hours later. So at 11am we met and I signed a declaration which I could not read as it was, I think, in Spanish, which may have said I am responsible for my own safety or I have now joined the French foreign legion.
But I was quickly kit out with sea faring vessel, spray deck, dry sack etc.
A brief discussion on the very calm breeze, and how I would use it to push me back when tied if I paddled into it on my out bound leg.
I had explained to the wife where I was going, drawing her a map as she had stayed at the pool. If I didn’t return by 7 pm she would alert anybody that would listen as I would have been blown into Libyan state waters by then.
So back on the beach I set off going like a train across the sea, along the coast sometimes about a mile out where the coast formed a bay, the wind had shifted and was behind me.
Thing I learnt is to keep a pee bottle with me. As I had to keep putting fluid in (hot sun and all that) it had to come out. Well I could not get out of my boat as on your own you cant get back in. I took a ribena bottle. Memo to me - need a bigger rim bottle(big boy and larger contents) hey ho. I now know my prostrate still works ok as I had to stop, empty, and refill my bottle in one go shall we say..
Some two hours later and 5 and half miles away reach Port de Lleo, which may sound grand but amounted to 6 german tourists, one bar and a few boats.
Time for a spot of lunch (3 bananas and some fluid and sun cream (applied not drunk)
Things seen on outward leg - few Heron’s or similar and a few startled nudists when I went passed rocky enclaves what no one normally sees.
And then there was troubles as they say on Thomas the tank engine(so I am told). Rule number one, never canoe alone, well I was on my own.
Return leg , into the wind which had now got up and I battled up against some heavy swell ( first time on the sea in a canoe), waves braking under me , spray in my eyes couldn’t see. Usual what if a tipped over now going through my head, I would have been in a spot of bother. But I concentrated, and paddled and paddled as the sea broke over the front of the kayak time and time again. It was like a scene from TRAWLER MEN
I recalled the story that the guy who lent me the boat told me about 4 Germans who lent his crafts. Basically one tipped out and the other 3 then got out and swam to shore leaving the boats to float away.
I scanned the coast to see if I was moving forward as things were getting bad and sure enough I was. Blisters now formed on hands and I was dripping wet, but far from miserable, I was loving it , why have I waited all this time to do somat as daft as this.
Well I made it back, and docked waiting for the guy to pick his boat up.
Shortly he turned up in his van and said, 'God when I got to the coast and saw the wind I was worried about you, but your back and all is well'.
Hmmmm a little idea came into my head for another day , its 3 paddling days round the coast of Ibiza !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 75 miles.
Dave