It certainly got me hooked, and when I saw a forecast this year closely matching conditions from last year I signed up for another go, despite the physical rigours of moving warehouses over the past month leaving me feeling a bit ragged.
|The amended course|
Paddling mate Gavin from the Gold Coast had flown in with his wife Cath for the race, and was paddling our demo V10 Sport, and we lined up with the other 300 paddlers on the start.
Lacking any credible training for the race & nursing a jammed up hip flexor and a torn rib cartilage, I figured I'd just put my head down & aim to finish, hoping for some joy in the short downwind run from the outside can to Lion Island. And so it went, a brisk start off the line which I for once ignored in favour of setting my own sustainable pace, and then a turn east at the imposing Barrenjoey headland. As we cleared the lee of the cliff the sea jacked up against what must have been an ebb tide, and several sets were as big an anything I've seen, certainly from the seat of my V10. Contending with the headwind blowing the bow off the crests was making me concentrate enough, without also adjusting to the swell rebounding off Barrenjoey, all in all some very unfriendly surfski conditions!
|The mayhem around the turning can (thanks to Surfski Australia)|
Rounding the can there were more swimmers, and the SLSA rescue boat was busy helping out those who weren't nailing their remounts.
|Me going past the ocean can (white visor, thanks to Surfski Australia)|
|Gary finishes, a gutsy effort.|
The first lap took me about 1.10, but the second was a painful grind with only the brief downwind spurt to bring a forced smile. I stopped again near the ocean can to help a double who had gone in for the 20th time, but instead had a dip myself. To say I was relieved to nail my remount first go and paddle on would be an understatement.
|Me done, but a bit bent & busted.|
Finally the pink can marking the turn to the sand appeared & I eased over the line to finish. I asked the bloke who grabbed my ski to pull all the &*%@ weed off my rudder, but guess what? No frigging weed, again...! The second lap had taken me nearly 90 minutes, and it felt like longer.... Gavin was there to help me with the boat having done a fantastic time of 2 hours, not that he was feeling too cheery either; I think the contrary conditions had taken their toll on all who took part.
I learned a lesson from the race, mostly to do with a lack of proper preparation not just from a training perspective, but also physically. I can usually get away with turning up to these things without any specific training, finish them & have some fun along the way, just by virtue of all the time I spend paddling. Like 80% of people who paddle in these races, I'm in it for the experience, to participate and hopefully to crack a few decent runs, and I love the atmosphere of these big events, they're awesome. What was inexcusable on my part though was going into what is a seriously committing ocean race without being 100% right, yet carrying that same 'I'll be right' attitude about something that could have brought me undone. There is no way I would have done the second lap if it wasn't for the myriad support boats on the course, and that's a very bad reason to carry on in an ocean race or paddle. If I was leading a sea paddle & someone had done the same thing and started to struggle, I wouldn't be happy with them. It won't happen again!
The organisers did well to get us a race considering the extreme ocean conditions, and really are to be congratulated on running an event where everyone came back in one piece. Unlike last year where there were smiles & back slaps all round at the great day we'd all had on the sea, this time there were war stories and weary bones, but a great experience regardless. Thanks to Gav's lovely wife Cath for taking all the pics.