Subject: Yakking today -- 08Jan09
Date: Thursday, 8 January 2009 3:46 PM
First trip for 2009.
The weather has been pretty hairy for the first week of 2009 and today was the first of this year which showed the potential for an offshore trip. With a swell of just over 2m, straight from the east, I was a little dubious last night about our ability to safely get out and back but agreed to at least go and take a look.
I found myself looking at a sullen sea at 0445 today at MG. Jaro, champing at the bit as usual, joined me on the beach just after I'd examined and personally dismissed any usage of the beach to the east. The 0530 high tide of 1.92m had dampened the wave effect a little but even so the crashing dumpers which seemed to rear up out of nowhere were arriving far too often and were far too unpredictable for my liking -- they promised to gobble up any kayaker who mistimed a departure from that area. We hadn't unloaded our yaks yet so the option to go back to bed was still there, but we turned our joint attention to the western (rivermouth) side. Here the larger waves on arrival sent spray way higher than the end of the rock groyne, accompanied by a deep "cruuump" which I, for one, felt in the pit of my stomach. We watched for three or four minutes and noticed that there were windows from time to time which would allow a suitably-motivated (and perhaps lucky) kayaker an opportunity to get through. Jaro broke the ice with a "Well, I'm game!". What could I say. within a minute or so we were back at the cars unloading our gear.
The adrenalin was building ten minutes later as we faced the waves, standing on the beach with our yaks at our sides. We must have stood there fully five minutes just watching and waiting. Meanwhile, another kayak fisher, Paul, whom we'd just met in the car park, joined us and immediately punched out in his Prowler Elite, making the launch look like a piece of cake. I wondered to myself whether perhaps he was new to the game or whether he was just showing these old farts how it should be done. So there we were, Jaro and I, still standing there while Paul nonchalantly and gradually worked his yak through the sets. Just getting aboard the yak was looking difficult to me as the spent waves had sufficient energy to get right through to the steep slope on the beach, finishing their long ocean transit with a spirited flourish right at our launch point. Eventually I could bear the adrenalin load no longer, and judging that the time had come, boarded cleanly and headed for the pool of deeper water just north of the end of the groyne, about 50m away. My plan was to hold in this deeper section and then make a transit of the wavebreak zone, another 20 or so metres away, as soon as I saw my way clear. Phase one of the plan went fine and I very quickly found myself in the safe deep water, paddling and back paddling a little to arrest my drift out of the deeper section. Soon an apparent lull in wave activity appeared so I dug deep with the paddle and went straight for the centre of the break zone. Just as I got to the critical point my attention was focussed by a large wave which had come from nowhere and was heading straight for me, steepening as it arrived, as they do, and seeming to tower over me. SHIT! SHIT! To slow down in such a situation is to invite a big swim so I reached for my reserves of energy, switched to Panic gear and went straight for the oncoming face to take it at right angles as fast as I could. It seems to take a long time to close the distance, but in fact it's all over very quickly, either the collision occurs (1) after or when the wave breaks, in which case you'll find yourself going backwards or taking an impromptu swim, or (2) you hit the wave in a 45 degree climb up the face just before it breaks, drop off the top at the back and find yourself in a 45 degree descent, but still the right way up and looking anxiously for the following wave to do it again should that be necessary. I understand that Steve (Turtle Boy) is aware of a third option.
It was all over very quickly (I drew option 2) -- I was out the back and preparing to set up my gear. Meanwhile, Jaro had watched my launch from his beach standpoint, held his breath as he saw the contest between ancient yakker and youthful wave, and decided to get some of this for himself. As he has done on many occasions, he picked the sets beautifully and shortly joined me out the back where he mopped the early morning sweat from his brow and called me on the radio to check whether I still had enough breath to speak. No worries, mate.
The closer we got to Jew Shoal, the stronger the breeze (easterly, exactly as forecast) and the larger the swell. The trip out there was easy but boy was it sloppy, with occasional whitecaps as the breeze whipped the tops off the larger swells. I'd opted to head for the SE corner of JS on the basis that the drift was likely to be from east to west and was about 500m from my target location when the ratchet of my ABU 10000C growled briefly. I was trolling a 180mm Berkely Killer on this outfit and immediately picked up the rod and confirmed that there was indeed something on the end of the line. I knew it wasn't huge and shortly afterward a striped tuna about 70cm long was boated after a short but lively fight. The last time I'd caught one of these was in Tasmanian waters a couple of years ago, from a 40-foot sloop and I was quite surprised to see one so far north. In preparation for a photo I decided to wash some of the blood off the fish which was still quite lively and held it over the side by the tail to do just that. You guessed it -- I accidentally released it. I hadn't intended keeping it but would have liked a photo for my records.
Once I started my drift the GPS very soon showed that the drift direction was toward the SW and quite quick -- not surprising, really. Jaro had headed for his favourite spot, at the western edge of the reef and so we were initially some 600m apart and invisible to each other because of the low light levels and intervening swells. However, we could still talk to each other by radio. I fished with only one outfit and was trying for a snapper but very quickly concluded that fishing today would be difficult, to say the least, with the drift speed and disorientation due to sloppy conditions, and the rain -- did I mention the rain? which came on the heels of a NE squall about 20 minutes after arrival. Anyway it was pissing down, but nice warm tropical rain. After some time, Jaro called me up. I had difficulty hearing what he was saying as the radio was transmitting "pop" noises along with his voice. It took me only a few seconds to realise that Jaro's microphone was being splattered with raindrops, thus masking his voice so I took care to speak right into the mike (bottom left corner of the speaker) with the whole radio sheltered under the brim of my hat to explain this. With clear voice communication reestablished we agreed to rendezvous (RV) at Jaro's favourite spot, which is known to me and is very close to one of my marks, and then head home. Our GPS devices showed their value here as Jaro and I could not see each other until we got close to the RV, and we could only vaguely see the land, so establishing position without such an aid would have been practically impossible. Here are a couple of pics taken shortly after we made the RV.
0732hrs. Near the agreed RV, just before heading for home. The white dots are rain specs highlighted by the camera's flash. The wind dropped a little while it was raining.
The trip back to MG was easy and uneventful and we just loped along, a few metres apart, travelling on a GPS arrow pointer set for Middle Groyne, which became visible, right on the nose, when we were about 2km out. There being no fishy action evident we opted to recover our yaks and so prepared to run the surf gauntlet once more.
The wave situation hadn't improved in the time we'd been out at sea, not that I thought it would have. The bigger waves were still belting the groyne and now there were about seven or eight boardriders competing for the space we wanted to use. I was tidied up and ready to run first. Time spent on reconnaissance is NEVER wasted (an Army adage) and so I paddled over to a safe vantage point to take a look. Breaking surf looks quite different from "out the back" as the height of the breaking waves can't be judged easily. Nevertheless I quickly concluded that the beach to the east of the groyne was still hairy (even I, partly deaf, could here the crump of the dumping waves as they suddenly encountered shallow water). So I went back to the other side and took a long hard look at that, trying to deduce a pattern in the arrival of the sets, the larger of which were heralded by growing excitement and preparation among the board riders not 30m inshore from me. I could see that Jaro was now ready to run also so thought I'd better set an example and reach a decision soon. I counted off the large waves as they came through, allowed for a set of four biggies to roll under me, and then went for it, with Jaro yelling what I hoped was encouragement, as it was too late to turn back. It seems I picked it pretty well for half way in I'm still upright and then a mid-size wave caught up with me and turned my yak into a temporary surf machine. In situations like this, all is well as long as you can keep the yak straight (paddle whichever side is necessary) and keep the nose from being buried (lean back as much as possible). As soon as the wave breaks, different techniques are required, as I've learned from previous surf transits, many of which finished ignominiously. We covered 30 metres at exhilarating speed, then the wave broke, forcing the bow to the right despite my attempts to keep it straight. As the yak yawed, I leaned out as far as I could on the right side and pushed down hard on the blade, which is face down in the water. While this technique doesn't always work, depending on the power of the wave you're dealing with, if you don't do this, as the yak encounters the sloped face of the broken wave, your CofG is altered to the side nearest the beach and you tip in that direction. When the spray cleared I was relieved to find that I was riding the wave sideways with paddle extended, exactly what I was hoping for; and soon the wave started to run out of energy and I was able to once more straighten the yak and cruise into the beach with dignity intact. Jaro also had a clean and successful ride to the beach. Once on the beach together we acknowledged our adrenalin rush with a high five and dragged the yaks up the beach where we were subjected to a great pile of questions from some young beachgoers intrigued by our wonderful little boats.
So, no fish this trip. If the weather doesn't improve soon I'll be forced to fish in the river -- come to think of it a feed of whiting would just hit the spot.
Thanks for organizing and coming along, Jaro.
Kev
Red & Yellow Espri, black paddle
VHF channel 09 or 22 (if alone), Call Sign: sunshiner
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