Re: Big sea paddling

Autumn in Cape Town is a time when the winds become fluky and hard to predict. Forecasts more than a day in advance usually aren?t worth reading?

Yesterday, however, the SE blew hard working itself up to 30kts average gusting to 39kts, accompanied by a deep sea swell forecast of SW 16-20ft at 13 seconds. In the morning I had a call from a friend who lives in Fish Hoek, saying that the bay already looked good. I?d arranged for a small group of us (Rudder Boy & Spanner) to meet at Fish Hoek at 4:30pm to do the run. I had a conference call at the office 3pm and was hoping to be done by 4pm ? but? the call only finished at 4 and the ensuing discussion dragged on and on? at 4:15 I sent a text to say that I wasn?t coming. And immediately felt a toxic, ?ice-cream? headache start to flood forward behind my eyes ? jeez, endorphin addiction can be powerful.

But we?d finished our meeting by 4:30 and I called the guys. ?Don?t worry,? they said, ?we?ll wait for you!? Thanks guys!

We drove along the shorefront past Simons town and passed the little beach at Froggy Pond. Looking down, we saw a massive dumper smash onto the beach. ?Hey, look at that!? The car became a little quieter. ?And that!? as we saw another cruncher hit the beach just before Millers Point itself.

Now Spanner is a Durban paddler, well used to going out through surf. He fears NOTHING. Rudder Boy is an ex-Durbanite whose skills have apparently diminished but to me he?s still a wave pro ? the guy was a professional life saver for a few years in his youth and he?s a huge strong fellow.

As we drew up at the top of the launching ramp, we could see that the tide was at its peak spring high. We could also see boulders (and sea urchins) scattered over the ramp. The heaving sea was covered with foam and, while we watched, an impressive wall of water collapsed onto the ramp. ?I?ve got to say, I?m not sure about this,? grumbled Rudder Boy. ?Ah, it?s fine,? rejoined Spanner, ?very doable!? I rushed off behind the bushes to attend to an urgent call of nature.

We were unpacking the skis & setting up when Spanner?s said, ?What?s that rumbling noise?? The answer? The boulders on the rock strewn shore were being thrown around like pebbles by the surf?

Spanner strolled down the ramp, waited for a gap between crunchers, launched and was off. When it?s high tide, the waves don?t break anywhere except on the shore, so thirty metres out and you?re safe. Encouraged by his easy launch, but still with heart in mouth, I followed. A wave broke ? I looked behind and over it to see a lull ? I ran down, threw the ski onto the water, leaped in and sprinted out. Easy! Except that I scraped my rudder down the ramp as the sea was sucked out ? damaging the slim carbon quite badly.

Spanner & I waited for Rudder Boy to come out ? he had a slightly more frenetic time but also managed to pick a lull between the dumpers and we all set out towards Bakoven Rock. The wind wasn?t as strong here as in the middle of the bay and although we were flying over the tops of the waves, we weren?t being thrown to one side as is often the case.

We lined up alongside the rock, started the GPS?s and set off. I usually start by missing my first wave and wallow disgracefully down the back of it while the rest of the crew take off at high speed, but this time Spanner & I caught a huge run immediately and swooped down the face, leaving Rudder Boy bleating in our wakes.

When the waves are big in the bay I usually struggle ? fast, big waves are difficult to catch and, more often than not, cross chop whacks you from either side making it difficult to extend the runs. But this was different ? the huge waves were regular, there was little cross chop and for some reason the swell didn?t seem to be running as fast as usual, making the runs easier to catch.

Spanner immediately put together a sequence that took him about 200m ahead. I took a line closer inshore and looked up to find that Rudder Boy was even further to my left.

I stuck with the middle line, and focussed on trying to connect runs together. Although I mostly found myself running up the back of the swell in front, occasionally there would be a slight hollow to one side that I could head for, and by sprinting as fast as I could I?d shoot over the crest and down the face of the next wave. A few of these and I was making ground on Spanner?

Eventually I lost sight of both the other guys and, realising I was heading too far towards Simonstown, I altered course, working my way to the right passed the lighthouse to Fish Hoek. I caught a glimpse of the other two, more or less level with me but close to Roman Rock and I realised I?d better get across onto the same line. Happily there was now a diagonal swell running as well which made it easier to put sequences together and I found myself surfing down waves that heading to the right of Fish Hoek, then turning onto others heading to the left of Fish Hoek bay, and by switching between them I worked my way back to a better line into the bay. There is nothing more satisfying than staying on a run for wave after wave.

As we reached Fish Hoek the sun had gone down behind the mountains and the dim light of dusk made the sea look harder and colder? and, approaching the beach, I let three or four waves roll under me before I sprinted across the break zone.

What a run ? the Millers run has to be one of the most exciting stretches of paddling in the world. Later in the evening when I got home, I said to my wife, ?that was one of the best Millers Runs I?ve ever had??

?That?s what you always say,? was the reply!