Tower Hamlets Canoe Club

Sean, Saturday morning: Jon, Pete, Dimitris, Liz, Gavin, Steve and Nick.

This visit to a tide race was perhaps a milestone in the club’s sea kayaking journey.  Despite two paddlers dropping out it was our second trip in a row with 8 paddlers.  I think this is a measure not only of the growing number of sea paddlers but also of our increasing ability and confidence.

The seed for this trip was planted in miserable mid August, ignored for a month then nurtured to fruition in unexpected, October glory.  The forecast looked good and stayed good.  We had light winds, a little swell and abundant sunshine.

Jon volunteered to tow the trailer with his van, so on Friday evening 7 of us loaded up and drove to Tom’s Field (camp site) in Langton Matravers, 3 in his van and 4 in Sean’s Achtungwagen.  At the local pub several of the group contracted a mild bout of Whitewateritis, thus delaying the next morning’s early start.  No matter; it gave Liz time to arrive, fresh from Portsmouth and the Brittany ferry (but still with he usual two surfboards and bicycle).  Steve helped put up her tent badly (Whitewateritis again?) then we drove to Swanage and parked conveniently beside the beach.

My original aim for this weekend was to concentrate on working in a tide race, doing all the things we’ve practiced on the basin and elsewhere, but in rougher, moving water, with the opportunity for surfing and play.  For variety we’d try to add a short coastal tour with the chance for exploration and maybe some rock-hopping.

I should stress that whatever our plans, we took liaison with the Coastguard (at Portland) and with the local coast Watch station very seriously.  It only takes one member of the public, or a dutiful but uninformed lookout to raise the alarm when they see a kayaker out of his boat...

SATURDAY

My Saturday plan was to launch soon after the beginning of the ebb (about 09:00), and  play in the race as it grew in strength, and hopefully as we grew in confidence.  After two or three hours and a break for lunch, we could make a short coastal tour west, using the last of the ebb, then the start of the flood to return to Swanage.  But because of our slow start the race would have been running for 2 hours when we reached it, i.e. 90% full strength; maybe a bit of a shock for those new to tide races!  It would also leave us little time for a tour, so we planned a longer trip along the coast with a relaxed lunch at Chapman’s Pool, (waiting for the tide to turn); about 15 miles in all.  Race play would have to wait.

In Swanage Bay the water was smooth and from the beach we could see a textural change off Peveril Point, a mile away.  So something was going on…and when we got there (10:50) it looked moderately big and bouncy, no doubt helped by the F3 wind over tide and the forecast 1.3m swell.  As we headed uptide before turning to run down through the race, a small group of sea kaykers approached from the north.  I headed over to compare plans.  They were a local group (led by Mark Rainsley of ukriversguide.co.uk and recent book http://southwestseakayaking.co.uk/promotional-bumf/) heading west from Studland.  As they had the luxury of a ‘shuttlebunny’ their destination was as far as they could comfortably paddle.  We followed them into the race, perhaps too closely because they stopped to play and our two groups merged in a confusion of bobbing heads and flashing boats.  Under less favourable conditions this could have been a problem but soon the groups separated, the locals moving ahead in the main stream and our group moving inshore, seeking the edge of the eddy (for use the next day) on our way to Durlston Head.

The race had been anything but a neat row of clean waves.  Other sets were coming in at an angle, so it was classic rough water, sudden peaks and sudden troughs.  Mark later said the race is ‘in a big swirling, surging eddy’; sounds about right!

At Durlston Head the coast rises to sheer cliffs and turns a sharp corner where there’s another race.  The cliffs then run to Chapman’s Pool and on to Kimmeridge.  The race was not really working, just swirly and bumpy and not on a par with Peveril.  

We followed the cliffs close in and Gavin spotted a pergrine falcon perched low on the cliff.  It took off, flying within thirty feet of us, smooth grey back, black ‘moustache’ and bright yellow feet, beautiful, unless you’re a smaller seabird.  In the summer the sea is busy with guillemots, razorbills and even puffins, nesting on the cliffs, but now they were gone, replaced by climbers clustered on the cliffs’ cracks and ledges.

Along the way some of us expored a cave or two and for relief from the heat (overdressed!) I tipped into the water and waited comfortably while someone practiced emptying my boat.

Dancing Ledge (11:53) was busy with climbers, anglers and spectators.  As we passed I saw a couple of mackerel landed as well as the long silvery eel-like form of a garfish (feeds on the same small fish as the mackerel, has a long, sharp ‘beak’ and bones go green when you cook it).

St Alban’s Head creates a tide race and overfall, locally second only to that at Portland Bill.  As we would be approaching it at ebb + 4hrs I expected it to be ‘interesting’; but it wasn’t.  Just the merest swirl to suggested what goes on there.  Mark said the waves were 1.5m high when his group passed (at ebb +3ish?) and that on big tides they reach 2.5m.  Hmmm.

The semi-naked lunch.

Our lunch stop was a sheltered bay backed by crumbly cliffs, the water flat and clear and full of weed.  At one point someone cried out and we looked up to see Liz’s new Avocet heading out into the bay; the peculiar local tide having rerisen and floated it. 

Liz and Pete quickly reclaimed it, but apart from that excitement we happily did nothing but eat and drink and laze in the sun until it was time to return on the flooding tide (1505).

From St Alban’s Head, beneath the gaze of the perched Coastwatch lookout, we paddled out to sea (120 deg) for ten minutes, instead of following the coast; partly to see if the race was more evident further out (too early, it wasn’t) and partly to catch a stronger tidal flow back to Anvil Point.   Further out the swell was more evident; the sea was slight and we made good time, landing at the beach by our transport at about 1650. (If our return route was 7.5NM our average speed was 4.3knots, suggesting tidal help of about 1.3kts)

SUNDAY

We woke to dense fog, we ate breakfast in dense fog. 

The lady in the shop said it would clear in an hour so, armed with this invaluable local knowledge, we drove to the beach.  Visibility was at most 1NM.  It was enough.  We launched at about 1050 and after what some thought to be an overly cautious approach were playing by 1130 (ebb +2).  The race seemed quieter than on Saturday – less swell and almost no wind.  We were all buddied up and four of us acted as catchers, two in the eddy and two downstream as back-stops.  The remaining four played; then we swaped around; we had 4 VHF radios between us that proved invaluable but not infallible.  Although everyone had a buddy it didn’t stop paddlers becoming spread out (who’s that over there?).  Understandably some players just wanted to concentrate on themselves and the water so a buddy was undoubtedly an encumberance.  On the other hand, constantly having to be aware of another paddler is good training in itself.

An alternative arrangement was later suggested, where the players would be ‘contained’ by two catchers as side markers and two more as back-stops…

In planning I had cautiously allowed for two spotters on the cliff but conditions made this unecessary.

After a few minutes we had our first capsize and rescue following some exhilarating surfing up on the front of the race…exactly what we wanted!  The race was acting at a level that made attention essential and play lively but not intimidating.  We were lucky to have these benign conditions as well as the sunshine.  The water wasn’t cold.  That we were sharing it with fish was evident when various motor boats drifted down the race or sat in the eddy with anglers cathing mackerel and small bass. 

After an hour or so people began to tire and by 13:00 several of us were ready for lunch – but if we took a break the race would be flat when we returned, so those with the energy played on.  We’d done enough rescues so concentrated on rolling, self-rescue and of course more surfing and as we worked the race diminished. 

We were off the water by about 15:00, the end of an interesting but all too brief weekend.

We need to get to know this race far better, how it changes with different winds and swell.  Whilst it could certainly have its dangers it seems dependable and offers great opportunities for development, and FUN!

More work is needed to taking good action photos...so we’ll be back!

West going ebb begins HW Dover -0:30

East-going flood begins HW Dover +5:30 (might be 6:00)

SATURDAY 11 OCTOBER                       SUNDAY 12 OCTOBER

HW Dover: 0921  BST                               HW Dover: 1002  BST
West-going Ebb begins       0851               0932                                      
                                    +1        0951               1032
                                    +2        1051               1132
                                    +3        1151               1232  bold = peak flows
                                    +4        1251               1332
                                    +5        1351               1432
East-going Flood begins     1451               1532