Scribe Peter Carter
“A Strong Wind Warning continues for Gulf Water and South Central Coasts ......”

So went the forecasts, day after day. Still, as the Pilot says, “There is a tendency along the coast for winds between S and E to predominate in Summer”, (Australian Pilot Vol. 1, p 12). Adelaide had its hottest summer for some thirty years, but to us it seemed the windiest as we waited for the south-easterlies to abate.

Expeditions like a circumnavigation of Kangaroo Island, after Tasmania the largest island off the coast of Australia, and a crossing of the gulfs from Port Lincoln to Adelaide are the sort of thing one imagines when sea canoeing begins to develop, and though they were
thought of some years ago, it was not until this season that some of us were prepared to try them.

Most visitors to Kangaroo Island stay on shore, or if they venture onto the water, do so along the north coast. With good reason, only the professional fisherman work the west and south coasts. They were to prove valuable allies.

We left Kingscote on Sunday, December 21 at about 2.00pm. Before long, we were walking. At low tide the Bay of Shoals is shallow. We had trouble with the tide that night, too. It was higher than the previous one.

The north coast was a straight forward trip, with easy stages, good weather, a journalistic helicopter visit, gift of wine, spectacular cliff scenery, an eagle’s nest on a pinnacle, porpoises, etc. Christmas Day we spent on the rocky beach at Harvey’s Return.

Then it was around Cape Borda to West Bay. Now we met the real ocean swells, with a chop blown up on top by a gusty south-easterly. None of us were sorry to arrive at West Bay through dumping surf.

There was plenty of time there, four days in fact, to dig up the supplies that John, Mike and David had buried there, and for some fishing.

We were glad to leave West Bay, but even more glad to arrive at South West River that evening. Mike’s forward compartment flooded on the run towards Cape du Couedic, presumably through a tightly, but incorrectly closed hatch. There was no option but to open it and pump out. We rafted up and I proceeded to give it some progressively heavier thumps with a flare container. The retaining ring broke with this treatment, and after pumping out the boat, we retained the hatch by winding tape round and round the boat.

The nearest landing was still some distance away, but we arrived by Remarkable Rock with the temporary repair holding well. We retaped it and headed on, to a most hospitable welcome at South West River - drinks on the beach and a superb fish dinner. Meanwhile, a fishing boat we had passed at C. du Couedic had radioed details of the problem, and the network set about obtaining a replacement.

Next day was sunny and calm, and with a new hatch delivered by journalist carrying helicopter, we paddled onto Vivonne Bay, the largest settlement on the south coast. The days following were not calm, and we waited for a week, noting that on a couple of days not even the fishing crews ventured out. One passing wag asked when we would be paying our council rates.

Eventually we were on our way again, past Nobby Islet, Seal Bay and the most southerly and remote point of the island, Cape Gantheaume, to D’Estrees Bay where we flopped onto the seaweed. A week’s inactivity has its repercussions.

The next day also became a long one, 58 km to Pink Bay, where we arrived in gathering darkness, rain and a large thunderstorm over the mainland to the north, but helped on our way by following winds and cold orange cordial thrown to us by a passing fisherman.

From Pink Bay it was easy going, but after the times of solitude the after-cricket crowd in the Penneshaw Hotel, was hard to take. We spent the night with some diving acquaintances before the final leg into Kingscote.

There we were met by a crowd, the Mayor, some inept journalists, and the police sergeant.

It was odd to look down on the sea as we travelled to Adelaide on the vehicle ferry, the Troubridge, which was to carry our boats, John and me to Port Lincoln some days later for the next expedition.

On the way to Port Lincoln we were woken in the early hours by the Troubridge captain, who, with his crew, pointed out features we were to see on our return. The view at 0300 from the bridge of a ship is interesting, but rather different from the one we were to have in daylight from the cockpit of a Nordkapp.

Ray, who travelled by road, was waiting for us in Port Lincoln, and we spent a day running around doing all the usual things. In this, we were helped by the loan of Mal Wiseman’s Moke, and Grant Cawthorne’s hospitality.

Next morning, January 23rd, we left Port Lincoln’s Boston Bay and headed for Thistle Island, the largest of the islands named by Flinders after members of his crew were lost nearby. Again, we were greeted with great hospitality, and were given fish, with all the trimmings, to cook for tea. There was a visitor in the night, a seal, who obviously thought we had the best spot on the beach and decided to join us.

Wedge Island is so named because of its shape, and is 15km from Thistle. It, too, is an exclusive tourist resort. On the way, we were surrounded at one stage by playful porpoises. The ‘thin end’ of Wedge is a fine sandy beach stretching almost the entire length of the north coast, and we camped somewhere near the middle.
The crossing to Yorke Peninsula involved heading on a compass bearing, and Ray and I took turns of fifteen minutes until we could navigate visually to a landing near East Cape. After lunch we headed on round to Stenhouse Bay, past the wreck of the Ethel, Cape Spencer and the Althorpe Islands. Rugged limestone cliffs, well worth another look, but only in good weather.

From Stenhouse Bay we headed east, but the weather was ominous. In the early evening we landed at Point Gilbert, and the weather struck, with gusting winds and driving rain. After a miserable tea, I retreated to the shelter of some bushes in the sandhills. John and Ray baled a leaking tent on the
beach. Point Gilbert had nothing to recommend it, we decided, and after three days, with winds still strong, we plodded around to Edithburgh, past the new Troubridge Hill lighthouse.

At Edithburgh we stayed two nights in a caravan, and were again treated most cordially. Ahead of us was a crossing of 38nm.

Stars and carefully shielded ‘Cyalume’ compass lights were our only illumination as we set out at 0340. After a while a thin sliver of moon rose, followed by Venus and then the sun into an almost cloudless sky. We paddled on in almost calm conditions, stopping hourly for a drink and a nibble.

Eleven-and-a-half hours after launch, we landed at Glenelg, to find the temperature was 40⁰ on shore. The media descended on us again, to ask the usual inane questions. Then it was off home.

THE TEAM:
Peter Carter - Secretary-General of S. Aust. Canoeing Association. Organiser of several earlier important sea expeditions in South Australia. (Kangaroo Is. & Port Lincoln)

John Hicks - Widely experienced in Orienteering and other outdoor activities. (Kangaroo Island & Port Lincoln)

Mike Higgins: - Instructor at Outward Bound, Clayton. Very experienced whitewater and surf canoeist, member of River Nile expedition, 1978. (Kangaroo Island)

David Nicholson: - Experienced climber, skier, working for an outdoor equipment supplier. (Kangaroo Island)

Ray Rowe: - Instructor at National Centre for Mountain Activity, Plas y Brenin (Wales). One of the most experienced British sea canoeists. (Port Lincoln)

THE CRAFT
All of us used Nordkapp sea kayaks, fitted with bulkheads and hatches, deck pumps, etc.