Scribe Laurie Ford
Yes, I know - the Maatsuyker Canoe Club prides itself on not doing day trips. Well, we normally don’t.

Because our members live all over the state, it is hardly worthwhile having a 4 hour drive each way just for a day trip - so we only ever plan trips of two or more days  - to make the drive worthwhile. And the other main reason for two-day trips is that there is every chance that the weather will change overnight and produce a bit of a challenge to get home. I’m sure that a lot of clubs don’t have two-day trips for that very reason - they are too concerned about being caught out, and maybe a day late getting back to work. By forcing paddlers to paddle two-day trips they build up experience in conditions they may not otherwise choose to go out in. And anyway - camping on some island, or remote beach, is one of the joys of sea canoeing.

Anyway, this was a private trip, not a club trip.

This trip started out because Jeff and I had been in contact with 4 Victorian paddlers who were going to nip across Bass Strait, and we thought we might paddle up to Whitemark on Flinders Island and join them for the rest of the paddle back to Tasmania.

We weren’t sure how much progress they would make, and what sort of conditions they would choose to paddle in - but thought we’d try and get to Whitemark about a week after they left Welshpool. Bob Bush was informed of the trip and was keen to go as well.

Jeff and I camped at Little Musselroe Bay on Tuesday night (22nd Feb’00), and found that Bob had pulled out due to a car breakdown. I had a really good fire going well before Jeff arrived - previous campers had left an abundant supply of sawn dry firewood, and Jeff and I talked till after 11.00pm. The forecast for the next day was a gale warning for our area, northerlies. Not at all promising as north was exactly the direction we had to go in to get from Little Musselroe Bay to Clarke Island. The tides would be right for a 7.45am start.

I rose at 6.00am to check out the conditions and decided it wasn’t on - it was too windy for a 4 to 5 hour slog across Banks Strait - the sea was full of angry whitecaps. However, an hour later the wind seemed to have eased somewhat, and we rapidly unloaded our kayaks and started to pack. The whitecaps all but disappeared by the time we were on the water at 8.15am, watched by Mrs Ponting - who very kindly lets us park our vehicles on her property for weeks at a time.

The forecast was for strengthening northerlies, going NW, and then SW later in the day and easing. It was quite easy paddling into the 15knot headwind, and we stopped every hour for a spot of chocolate or a drink. At the second stop Jeff mentioned that his right shoulder was a bit stiff, but OK. It was about here that the wind veered round to about NW, so letting us use our sails. The day was very overcast, and at times there was not a thing to be seen as all land disappeared from sight in the low cloud. Clarke Island was quite close after 3 hours, but disappeared again at our third chocolate stop. It was here that Jeff called out that he had to raft up with me as his shoulder had seized up, and he was in some pain.

We were somewhere between South Head and Lookout Head, but a km or two still out to sea - but no land was in sight in any direction. We discussed the options.
1. We could paddle on to Rebecca Bay, into the freshening wind but with the current - probably another hour to get ashore.
2. We could run off round South Head, with the wind but against the current - probably another hour to get ashore.
3. We could turn around and use the wind to sail back to Little Musselroe Bay.

Jeff wanted to get ashore as soon as possible and thought that a rest ashore may ease his problem. It was about now, while rafted up, that he got seasick and brought up all his breakfast “Oh damn”, I thought, “this is a nice kettle of fish”.

We’d just been paddling for over 3 hours, and I wasn’t all that keen to tow him towards Rebecca Bay, particularly if the wind freshened any more. I also wasn’t keen to go round South Head against the full current - I figured the waves could be standing vertically as the wind was against the tide, and the thought of Jeff not being able to support, and capsizing in those conditions wasn’t very comforting.

This left the return option - the longest one. I also felt that even if we did get ashore there was every chance that overnight the shoulder could seize up completely. While Jeff was still in his kayak I felt that a return to civilisation was the better choice.

We rafted up with sails up for a while but it was very slow, and would have taken hours and hours to get across Banks Strait by this means alone. The best thing to do was to put both my sails up and tow Jeff, hoping he wouldn’t capsize. He mentioned that while he had been paddling his shoulder wasn’t too bad, but got rapidly worse when sailing, and just using the paddle for support strokes - up/down movements, rather than push/pull movements.

So away we went, the Longboat in full flight down the waves - only to be jerked to a rapid halt every now and then as the towrope snapped tight. Thank goodness the towrope has a decent piece of shockcord built into it, otherwise you could end up with serious back injury and whiplash with the sudden deceleration. There were some decent swells running, and quite often Jeff would surge alongside as he caught one, then drop off it just as I caught it. Tasmania was lost in the low cloud still, but I kept on a compass course that would put me well to the west, somewhere near the tip of Cape Portland. I was worried that we may have to raft up and sail all the way like that if Jeff got any worse - and was concerned about the predicted fresh SW change that was expected later in the day. This would make our predicament worse - but by getting to the west as far as possible I was leaving room to still be able to sail in the direction of Swan Island if necessary. The tide was also from east to west at the moment, helping our westerly progress, but was due to change about when I thought we’d get ashore on Cape Portland - 3 hours after starting back.

At one time I heard a yell from Jeff and half turned my head to ask if he was OK. “I’ve lost my paddle,” was the reply. Apparently it had got caught by the slack in the towrope as he surged forward, and snapped out of his hand. I dropped both sails, threw off the towrope, and paddled back upwind to retrieve it, while Jeff pulled his breakdown paddle off the rear deck and used that. I returned his paddle to him, and put his breakdown one back under the shockcord, and took up towing again - this time with only one sail as my old 18 year old favourite sail suffered some damage in its hurried take-down.

We continued like this for about an hour or an hour and a half, till the cloud cleared and we could see the sunlight on Cape Portland, and the hills in the background. The wind was from the west by now, and eased very slightly, and Jeff decided he would try sailing again - which he did successfully.

Near Cape Portland we were a km or two to the west of Foster Islands, and could easily run dead before the wind, and with the current, to get to them, and then run ashore on the nearest beach. I suggested I could bring a vehicle down to here but Jeff said he could easily manage the short downwind trip to Little Musselroe Bay - which only took a matter of minutes with the river-like current and the freshening wind. In fact the wind was strong enough to pull the cord of my sail out of the jam cleat on a couple of occasions.

I recently went on another day trip a few weeks ago (to test out some sea-sickness tablets) and was telling the other paddler that even on a day trip you should always carry a sleeping bag, space blanket and other emergency gear - including towropes. Never paddle an empty kayak. Emergency gear takes up little room, and could just save a life one of these days. Jeff and I have been paddling together for over 16 years, and it would have been very easy not to bother putting a towrope in - with serious consequences. But then, I would no more think of going out in a sea kayak without a towrope, than I would without a paddle.

As for meeting the Victorians at Whitemark, I did consider doing the trip on my own - as the forecast for the next day was for light winds, but the call of my house building got the better of me. The trip wasn’t a dead loss - I got to have a couple of Cheeseburgers at St Helens on the way up, and another couple on the way back - these have to be the best cheeseburgers in the state.