NüfNüf Go Round

Straight across from the beach at Adele Island, there was a beach with archways and coves on the mainland we wanted to see. Another 20 minutes of exploration and we went on to make it to our campsite, Anchorage. We didn’t. Suddenly, the weather changed without warning. A wall of dark clouds was hanging above us and broke shortly after. The wind picked up and the waves were getting higher. Soaked and slightly cold, we paddled to the next best shore, Watering Cove, for a short reprieve and to wait for the rain to pass. It didn’t. Watering Cove was the last beach on the mainland before a very exposed area called “The Mad Mile” – with a rough and rocky coastline that stretched on for longer than we thought. We decided to go for it and tried to set off. That’s when we realised this was gonna be difficult. As soon as we pushed the kayak into the water to get in, the waves crashed into it and left water in our cockpits before we could attach our spray skirts. We tried to pump it out, but at one point, we’d just have to live with a little water if we actually wanted to get a move on. If we managed to get through this, we would arrive at our campsite just beyond this rough patch, Anchorage. The aptly named “Mad Mile” made me question the decision to go on a kayaking tour and a few more things. :D

The weather got worse: the rain was heavier; the wind grew even stronger; the waves were getting scarily high. It took us 1.5 hours to get through this stretch (in good weather the next day it was less than 40 minutes) and at this point, we were kind of paddling for our lives. A lot of the waves towered over us and soaked us (just in case the rain didn’t do a good enough job) and not only made our kayak shake violently but made the fear of capsizing all too real. All of that for 90 minutes. My body was in survival mode, and I even forgot to feel seasick. I was both surprised and encouraged to power through when I heard Maddie go “Whoo!” from the back seat every now and then. As she put it – even when things go bad, it’s important to keep morale high. (After our ordeal we compared notes: From what I gather, Maddie was just as scared as I was.)

Suddenly, amidst the forever on-stretching rocks, we saw a faint beach in the distance, and when we found out that it indeed had a campsite – even though not the one we were supposed to go to – we set for it. Now the waves were behind us and made it a little easier to move forwards. However, that comes with a fair amount of danger as well. When kayaking, the most dangerous parts are the takeoff and landing. When you get close enough to the shore and high waves are breaking behind you, there is a decent chance you’ll not only get submerged by the waves in the kayak, but also spin around and land upside down. With the aforementioned spray skirts that are tightly attached to you and the kayak, this makes things more complicated. When bellying up, you need to keep your wits about you, fully submerged, to feel around the lines of the skirt, find the strap, pull it forth, and then back to get out of the kayak.

We were in absolute luck, however. As soon as we got close enough to the shore, first two, then six people were sprinting towards us to hold the kayak steady so we could get out unscathed. We were incredibly grateful to them. We got out of our wet clothes and tried to get warm, yearning for a hot chocolate or any other hot drink. Unfortunately, there was no Woolworths in the wilderness… Our saviours, however, lent us their camping stove, so we were able to turn our cold salad into a hot stew. Yummy.

Forgive me for not taking the time in the storm to take pictures to show you just how awful things were. :DLæs mere