The Crossing - False Bay, Cape Town – Solo

[Editor: I've paddled across False Bay twice.   Both times it was with a group, yet we all agreed how lonely and far from shore we felt in the middle of the bay...  As far as anyone I've spoken to knows, this was the first ever solo crossing of False Bay by a surfski paddler.]

Murray Williams contemplates the sea at the beginning of the 40km crossing.

Tuesday October 21, 2008

Route:

• Rooi Els - Simonstown (Miller's Point, then right to Seaforth), crossing through the centre of the Bay en route
• Distance 38.19km

Conditions:

• Wind: 8-9-knot South-Westerly (side-on/head-on), later strengthening
• Swell: 3.2-3.5m South-Westerly (side-on/head-on)
• Time: 4h30
• Status: solo - i.e.: alone, unaccompanied, unassisted and with no back-up, etc.

Report:

I'd done just one crossing, with Dawid and Pete and a gang of four, from Maanskynbaai at Hangklip (Eastern side of False Bay) to Fish Hoek (Western side), earlier this year, so knew the deal about being out there.

I'd sailed from Cape Town to Rio in 2003 - crossing one mighty big ditch, the Atlantic, x-number of thousands of nautical miles over 28 days. And my cousin, Dugald Macdonald, had rowed the Ward Evans Challenge a few years back, rowing a two-man boat from the Canary Islands to Barbados in 72 days.

Then, while on leave this week, started reading the autobiography of the world's greatest living explorer, Sir Ranulph Fiennes, perfectly titled "Mad, bad and dangerous to know". After just two chapters detailing his crossing the Antarctic continent in wind-chill of -110 degrees on the way to the South Pole, and camping on mind-bogglingly dangerous Arctic floes on the way to the North Pole, the prospect of crossing a mere 30-40km stretch of water on our doorstep - bit of a puddle, really - seemed embarrassing to be fearful of by comparison.

So put down the book on Tuesday morning, took the kids to school and headed straight to Rooi Els. "Just do it", etc.

Still, it's a big mental shift - heading off entirely man alone, with no-one else in the water with you. The only step I took was to call the NSRI in Gordon's Bay and Simonstown and tell them I was on my way.

False Bay Crossing - Solo

Boat:

I chose a Fenn XT partly because my own boat is in for repairs. It's well-known that the XT is hopeless in downwind conditions, for various reasons. I'd paddled the same boat on a solo downwind in that famous South-Easter last summer, in winds of more than 100km/h, and it was a nightmare.  [Editor's note: the new edition XT has the rudder moved forward for this reason. Some owners of the older XT have put a small skeg in front of the rudder to help prevent broaching in downwind conditions.]

But, this time, I knew I'd be doing a mild head-bang across the Bay instead. And, most importantly, the XT boasts truly exceptional build quality (or this particular boat does, anyway). It's stable, predictable and entirely rock-solid - not taking a single drop of water in over a year - just the type of craft you want to be on when you're alone in the middle and 16kms from the nearest land.

Other equipment:

• mobile phone in pouch
• numerous flares - pencil and smoke
• roofrack strap (as leash - although not used)
• juice and a Kitkat choc
• Garmin Forerunner 305

The risks.

Wind

Sure, the local breezes can do strange things very suddenly. But windguru suggested that the Southwester might switch to a 14-knot Southerly at worst, and the swell was at around 3-2-3.5m from the South-West. So although it was always going to be side-on or head-on, it was never likely to develop into a hurricane. If the Southerly had picked up to unmanageable proportions, would have had to turn north and just run for around 19kms to wherever the wind and swell took me on False Bay's Northern coastline, which wouldn't have been a train smash.

Sharks

the obvious concern: Sure, boats have occasionally been nibbled along the Peninsula. But they've almost always been one-hit wonders - the result of curiosity, the shark guys tell us, rather than "attacks" perse. So, worst scenario? A bad crunch, resulting in the boat taking in water fast. Who knows how much buoyancy is inside these skis. I could have called the NSRI immediately. But I would still have had to try to stay out of the water for perhaps half an hour, perhaps an hour, or even longer? So, and this may sound ridiculous, I'd bought a lilo at Sportsman's Warehouse (R119.00), figuring that I could blow this up and it would at least keep me on top of the water for a while. It was manageable to carry, even if it added 3-4kg on board, folded up in the footwell in front of the pedals.

Lastly, if all else had failed and I'd ended up swimming in the water, shark expert Chris Fallows of Apex Predators had recommended a simple necessity: goggles. Why? Well, if you're in the water, and there are sharks around, he said it was critical for you to be able to look around you underwater and see clearly so you could use your paddle to defend yourself if necessary. Nice.

Putting it in Perspective

Anyway, all said, as above, the chances of getting into serious trouble were always going to be far less than the danger of the drive back home along the coast-road and the N2. That's the reality - good perspective.

The paddle:

Left Rooi Els at about 10.20am, rounded the breakers on the Rooi Els main reef and almost immediately hit a half-side-on, half-head-on, South-Westerly breeze - nothing serious, about 6-8 knots, perhaps. Visibility was good and headed for the South side of the Simonstown mountains, roughly in the direction of Smitswinkel Bay - suspecting that the SW swell would constantly drift me northwards, so I'd end up doing a slight clockwise curve, ultimately towards Simonstown.

As it happened, the SW wind picked up after about 5kms, as did the swell, making for some small whitewater breaking over the boat into the cockpit and some bow-slapping into the troughs, but nothing serious. The wind dropped at about 18kms out, but then picked up a few km later, this time a fresh head-on, requiring a bit of a grind.

Marine life:

Hit three pods of seals - at 15kms, 20kms and 23kms - all swimming towards Seal Island, which was about 15kms away. Did this mean that they were most likely being stalked by the Men in Grey Suits? Not sure, but was glad that they'd hopefully be the primary bait and that they'd keep the Rotweilers from getting too curious. On the second occasion, saw a shark half-leap out of the water and nail a seal from behind, about 20m ahead.

Also saw one whale and had loads of curious birds swoop very low overhead, out of the blue, metres over my shoulders from behind, which I got used to after the first skrik.

About 3km off Millers, turned right towards Simonstown and hit a squalling North-Wester (what is it with Simonstown's weird micro-climate??). And after a 6km head-bang, passed the penguins at Boulders and into Seaforth. Cold Heineken on the restaurant deck.

End note:

An excellent paddle.

Many thanks to Dr Johan van Rooyen, my partner from the PE-EL of 2006, the ARB World Cup of 2007, the Cape Point Challenge of 2007 and Dusi of 2008, for the use of his XT.

Thanks to Kyle Mahood of Southern Swells for the last-minute shopping for flares on Tuesday morning in Gordon's Bay.

And, mostly, to Margaret and Derek of Paddlers in Simonstown. I'd not made any plans for the other side, so many thanks for the hot shower and change of clothes at their excellent shop on Main Road, while I waited for my lift to arrive.

Advice:

• Next time I'll take a waterproof mobile phone. The prospect of dropping my phone into the water in an emergency would have been dire.
• I'll take a waterproof two-way radio too, plus a waterproof camera
• And I'll take a different Garmin. The 305 doesn't easily display you your GPS position, which I would have needed if the weather had turned on its head and I'd had to try to call the Men in Red. You can get your position, but have to mark it, save it, and could relayed that to a rescue party, but you could well have moved by then, etc.
• And a last note on sharks: Chris Fallows also told me, by the way, that surfskis' typical red tips aren't a great idea - they're seen as black from underwater and can resemble seals' flippers or tails, potentially attracting big-toothed curiosity ...