Gone Paddling Sea Kayak Circumnavigation of Britain 2010

Meeting some of the staff at Falmouth Coastguard, a few hours after finishing.

A week back into work at Inbuilt, and normality is returning, slowly. 

In the last few weeks since finishing the 138 day trip, getting in touch with just some of the many people who have helped at various stages along the way has made me realise just how much I have to be thankful for – and how indebted I am to those who offered support.  It’s now starting to sink in!

Thank you:

…to Mum, Grandad and Kim, for daily support and continual encouragement, from long before the launch, to way after the finish…

…to the guy whose name I never caught, who helped carry my kayak and then returned with home-made biscuits on the beach at Mellon Udrigle…

…and to everyone else in between.

This isn’t meant to be a cop-out – I’ve tried to write a list, on here, of everyone who has helped throughout the last few months, from daily support with weather forecasting, to short but memorable conversations with complete strangers on beaches hundreds of miles away– but, put simply, it’s too a dangerous game!  No matter how hard I try, there will undoubtedly be those I neglect to mention, simply because there are so many people who contributed to the overall effort over the last few months. The danger with attempting to name everyone individually is that people will always be missed out.   Always!

So, what now?

Well one of the most interesting and intriguing aspects of the circumnavigation was – as I’d expected it to be – seeing places from new perspectives: the south coast of Cornwall, having walked it a couple of years ago; the NE corner of Scotland, having cycled down the A9 during the John O’Groats to Land’s End trip in 2003; and the Solent, having lived on the Isle of White for a few years during the 90’s – to name but three.

Therefore, circumnavigating an island by land and then by water seems a great way to evolve this idea – whether it ends up being Ireland, the Isle of Man or the Isles of Scilly (or even Australia?!) remains to be seen, but I believe it’s an idea worth pursuing.  Seeing the same coastline from different perspectives is a fascinating experience, constantly changing and never the same twice, and time will tell which island finds itself at the top of the list in a few months’ time.

Thank you to everyone who has been in touch this year with kind words, emails, phone calls and comments on the blog, as well as the thousands of people who have supported with donations for the charities.  For me personally it has been a wonderful and absolutely unforgettable experience, and – especially in the middle of a huge recession – one of my stand-out memories has been the generosity of complete strangers: both directly towards me, and also in terms of the fundraising – well over £10,000 raised at a time of such deep economic problems goes to show how generous so many people really are. 

For now though, it’s time to get on with the talks and presentations (the first of which is only 2 weeks away) and to start piecing together the beginnings of a book.  The trouble is, of course, finding a way to get it going…

But then, in the words of my friend Bill Stableforth – who played such a key role in planning the trip itself – “the hardest part is getting to the starting line.”

“Sea Kayak Gone Paddling, out”

It’s about a week since the grand finale back in Falmouth, and to say it’s been a shock to the system is something of an understatement.  

I’ve not quite adjusted to normal life again yet – often waking up from a dream involving being on the sea, momentarily wondering where I am, where the bathroom is, what the weather’s doing and how long it is until I need to be back on the water!  I’ve managed to catch up with a few friends, been interviewed for ITV news with the boat in the museum, emptied the (pretty smelly) van, washed the clothes and rinsed the salt off all the paddling kit and packed away most of the gear, and yet it still hasn’t sunk in that it’s over.  I imagine it’ll help when I sit down and go through – in one sitting – the photos from the last few months, re-doing the whole trip in a time-frame which is easier to digest; at the moment there are hundreds of segmented memories which appear disjointed and difficult to follow.  The trouble is, there’s over 2000 of them – in fact, it’s more than one photo per mile to sort through, which will take some time.

A few thoughts from the last week:

The 2233 miles paddled is further than Falmouth to Moscow,

which is over 600,000 times the length of the kayak,

or roughly 2,000,000 paddle strokes.

Over £10,000 has now been raised, with more expected over coming weeks.

Funds are low: in order to buy the kayak, I need to sell the van - which means once I’ve bought the kayak, I won’t have a means of transporting it.

Where are my work clothes, shoes, and razor?!   (and is there still muesli in the beard?)

There are an awful lot of people to whom I owe an awful lot; finding a way to express sufficienty my gratitude to so many people is proving difficult.

I’ve lost the ability to run for more than a few seconds.

The best ice-cream was Christmas Pudding flavour, in Aldeburgh; followed closely by Honey and Ginger flavour, from Aldeburgh, with third place going to Chocolate Orange flavour, again from Aldeburgh.

The best fish and chips were in Aldeburgh.

I’m heavier now than I was at the start.

I’d like to go back to Aldeburgh.

The photos have finally been extracted from the broken camera, and the camera replaced: here are a few, more to follow in a few days time.

Big swell, a few miles offshore.

The calm before the storm – Christchurch

Sunset over the Solent

A stiff headwind in the Solent, when a squall comes in.

Strong eddy lines around Portland Bill, sheltered by the land before turning the corner into a F3-4 NW headwind.

Calm seas along a stretch of the Jurassic Coast.

Falmouth, finally back on the map.

Early morning mist at Wembury, before crossing the last county border back into Cornwall.

Perfect evening conditions approaching Zone Point – the last headland of the whole trip.

Falmouth, finally back in sight.

10 more metres to go!

The kayak going on display in the National Maritime Museum Cornwall, with Ben Lumby, Exhibitions Manager.

A long awaited pasty and pint: 3 days for the former, 3 years for the latter!

James

So today was the day, the finish of the circumnavigation, with the short crossing from back St Mawes to Falmouth.  We had parked up in St Mawes by the harbour overnight in order to be ready for the early start in the morning – though for once it wasn’t me needing the early start!

It’s less than three miles to paddle across Carrick Roads, and 30 miles to drive up to Truro through the narrow roads of the Roseland Peninsula and then back down to Falmouth; even if taking the shortcut on the King Harry Ferry, it’s still an hour’s journey – especially in the morning traffic at the end of the summer holidays – so in a straight race the kayak would probably win!  With the van needing to get to the museum half an hour before me in the kayak in order to help set up the fundraising stuff, Emma and Ben had to set off before 8 in order to make sure they had enough time.  This meant a bit of a wait in St Mawes harbour for me, during which a call from BBC Radio Cornwall live on air took up a few minutes of waiting.

Neil, a friend from home, had motored across from Falmouth in order to accompany me back to the Museum, so we set out from the harbour together. Wind SE F3, sea state slight, tide flooding: we raced across the bay so quickly that we actually arrived at the entrance to Falmouth Docks at just after 9am!   I’d much rather have arrived early than be struggling to get across on time, but half an hour was quite a long time to be sitting and waiting, without sticking the bow of the kayak into view of the museum!  The Crown Princess, with over 3000 passengers, was moored up in the Fal, and the small ferries shuttled back and forth carrying a tiny percentage of the passengers into Falmouth for the day.

9.30 came, and the tide sped me straight into the museum where family, friends, museum staff, a few people I’d met recently on the trip as well as people who happened to be around at the time – all waiting on the pontoon and along the museum’s balcony – just like at the launch on 20th April.

The museum had a display made especially for the kayak, adding to an existing display which I remember seeing in April – and the display even included a couple of collection tins to add to the fundraising effort for the two charities over the next couple of months.  I felt extremely honoured to have had something made specifically for the trip – many thanks indeed to Ben, Michael and the other museum staff for taking such an active interest in supporting the expedition, right from the first conversation in the museum cafe just after Christmas.

A buffet lunch was followed by a walk around Pendennis headland back into Falmouth for dinner and one last fundraising stint through the pubs in the evening made for another full day.

Fundraising total is now at just about £10,000, with quite a raised offline yet to be added to the account.

Over the next few days I’ll have a chance to sort through a few things including photos and hopefully I’ll be able to back-date a load of photos from the last few weeks – I realise my damaged camera has made things difficult to add anything other than plain text to the blog.

James

After leaving the north coast behind today, feeling much more relaxed than when arriving there a coupe of days ago, it’s now time to head back to St Mawes for the paddle across to Falmouth first thing tomorrow morning.  Wind forecast still looks fine, with the high pressure lingering.

A few people have expressed an interest in joining in for the last 3 miles – so who knows, there may be some other boats making the same journey into Falmouth at 8.30 tomorrow.

James

Another day up at Polzeath, climbing over rocks to explore rockpools and thinking “it would be very silly to slip over/fall off the rock and twist/break something, now of all times!”

Surf looked pretty good, 2-4 foot clean and almost glassy: if only I’d picked up my wetsuit and board…

Wind forecast looks ideal for Saturday – F3-4 SE, blowing from St Mawes straight over to Falmouth!

James

A high pressure system settles over Cornwall, which means decent weather for chilling out and relaxing by the sea.

Press Releases have gone out, arrangements for Saturday have (thankfully) been taken out of my hands, so finally, after well over 135 consecutive  days of uncertainty and worry about weather, kit and everything else, it’s possible to switch off for a few hours.

James

The landing will be at 9.30 on Saturday morning – at the weekend so family can make it down, and early because that’s what the museum said was best for them!

All are welcome on Discovery Quay, Falmouth – there’ll be tea and cakes etc available in the museum cafe too.

James

Having reached St Mawes, it’s just a case of waiting for Saturday now, and keeping one eye on the weather to watch out for strong westerly winds which might make for a difficult last 3 miles to Falmouth.  At the moment it’s all southerly and easterly, which is idea.

James

Knowing that today would be the last full day’s paddle (assuming all went to plan!) I didn’t mind getting up early.  For the last few days, to be honest I’d been quite lazy in terms of waking up on time and getting on the water – but today, paddling along the coastline which is by far the most familiar stretch of coastline I know, I was happy to get up and get on with it.

I set out around Looe Island, just because.  With the clear skies and calm weather, there seemed no good reason to avoid seeing the “other side” of the island.  I remembered a school trip planned when I was 6 to go on a boat trip around the island, but bad weather on the day meant we couldn’t go – 19 years later, finally a good chance to see the island had presented itself.  With the tide starting to head west, the further offshore I paddled, the more assistance I’d get – so off I paddled due south for the first few minutes.  (Although I realise the tracker shows a route through the channel – it all depends when the GPS position is recorded!)

After passing Gribbin Head I was into the last coastguard region – Falmouth – which other than the three physical headlands of the Roseland Peninsula was the last “border” to cross.  A large fleet of sailing yachts departed from Fowey at about the time I passed Polruan, and we met a short distance offshore.  One couple requested a tow (!!) as I was travelling quite a lot faster than them – to say there was no wind was a bit of an overstatement!  Unfortunately the camera was still playing up, so the photo I took was lost, again.

A quick lunch stop at Gorran Haven caught a large crowd on the beach – a big organised fun day with BBQs and beach games meant loads of people – and a megaphone (though by the time the man with the megaphone had been found, I had already set off again)!

After rounding Dodman, I took a straight line across Veryan Bay, hoping to meet up with Bill and Nat (Atlantic rowers) for a cup of tea somewhere in the middle.  I hadn’t seen Nat since he paddled for a few days up in Scotland, and Bill since April.  Around Nare Head there was a bit of confusion as to exactly where we were in relation to each other – mobile signal was dodgy and my VHF battery seems to be on its last legs – again.  Eventually I saw their red sails and we met for a quick brew and a piece of cake on their boat – given the tide was flooding east again, I then had to re-paddle about a mile after drifting back towards Nare Head!

Running mainly on adrenaline, in the bright early evening light and with a calm sea and no wind, I sprinted off for the last hour or so, and ended up racing a couple of yachts motoring back toward Falmouth.  Needless to say, despite all the adrenaline, they were going slightly faster than me!

Rounding Zone Point was an incredibly surreal experience – obviously, going all the way around an island, when you go around the last corner, you’re going to see the same place you started from.  Obviously, right?  I mean, you know it’s going to happen, surely?  Well, as I paddled the last few stokes before Pendennis Castle came into view, it’s almost like I lost my memory – the shock of seeing Falmouth, actually there in front of me after four and half months of it being behind me, was a totally strange experience.

I remember turning right at various points – the Lizard, and again at Land’s End, at St David’s Head and in Bardsey Sound, at the Mulls of Galloway and Kintyre, at Cape Wrath and Duncansby Head, at Flamborough Head and North and South Forelands, and I recall seeing whole new sections of coastline appear suddenly before me – long anticipated moments of revelation as the mind focussed on new and wide horizons.  But essentially these were mere fleeting moments in what was primarily a period of four and half months paddling forwards, plus or minus a few degrees to the left or right.  The notable corners are few and far apart, and their memories are quickly swamped by the more dominant view of the land being away to the right, extending out indefinitely into the future.  So seeing Falmouth in front of me, despite knowing it would be there on the other side of Zone Point, was quite surreal.

Landing in St Mawes harbour on a beautifully calm summer evening, Emma opened a homemade apple and cinnamon cake which went down a treat.  As soon as we sat down in the pub for a pre-celebratory meal, the tiredness kicked in, so rather than camp we headed back up the road to home.

A few friends and family have said they’d like to come down to the landing party, and given their tireless support over the last few months, holding off the landing until they’re able to make it along seems fair – especially those friends who I’ve been lucky enough to have had support in person by driving the support van.  I could not have done this without the support of a great many people, especially those friends at RES and Inbuilt – because having the security of a job to go back to after the trip has meant I could focus properly on the task in hand, without needing to worry excessively about finding new employment in the autumn.

So for now, a couple more days off, and a chance to begin winding down after what’s been an amazing few months.  If you’re around at the weekend and fancy popping down to the museum in Falmouth, feel free to pop by.

James

Today was bit windy so I decided to sit it out and enjoy the sun at Looe.  30 miles from St Mawes (so 33 miles from Falmouth) and with a calm day tomorrow and easterly winds forecast for the few days following, it seemed pointless battling into F4 NW winds when I won’t be finishing until next weekend anyway…  may as well do it in calmer conditions.

It’s a bit strange being back in Looe – spent some early years living up the road on Bodmin Moor, this was the closest beach – obviously some things have changed, but many of the early memories still match!

We stayed at a friend’s house near Looe last night, and Mum and Martin came to visit for a few hours today, along with Barney the dog – hobbling along at nearly 16 years old.  My sister Emma arrived as well, along with her boyfriend Ben, so in a way it’s great that the bad weather last week held things up a bit – having chosen the NACC because of Emma’s Crohn’s Disease, it’s fitting that she should drive the last few miles towards Falmouth.

Feeling very excited now!  Only a day’s paddling from the end, in decent weather and with great company – the body feels tired and is running on adrenaline, but having made it back into Cornwall, I’ve started, at last, to relax a bit in terms of getting to the finish.

James