Swimmers in Venice

Windy Vogalonga.

In all the 35 years of the "Vogalonga" (the "Long Row"… of 30 kilometers) festival in Venice, they say 2009 was the windiest yet! That's the word on the streets… many of which in Venice are under water! Numerous boats capsized and there were dozens of swimmers (it's warm water). But drama aside, it was a very fun event! We all met up the day before at Capalonga, a camp-ground about an hour's drive from Venice, to fit out and load our kayaks onto a trailer in readiness for the early morning ride to town. Capalonga has classy rental kayaks. Giorgio showed us the route on the map, which loops around the Venice lagoon, and explained the timetable.

Next morning in Venice we threaded our adventurous friend Karen Darke from her wheelchair into her kayak, and Kate and Alex into their double, feeding the kayaks beneath and between long rowing shells and thrashing oars down a steep drop to the water. It’s the hardest part of the day, when everyone tries to launch at the same time, leaving just enough time to paddle through the canals to the start at the entrance to the Grand Canal by St Mark's Square.

A cannon booms, signaling the start, and the excitement carries through the air as everyone pulls away toward the north. The big flags on the boats and the skirts of the women standing rowers pull and flap in the wind. There are so many boats it looks as if you could walk from deck to deck from Venice to Lido. And some people do look as if they are walking… Venice is noted for stand-up rowing and there are a lot of gondolas. It's a natural development when the canals are so narrow; the oars angle steeply into the water instead of reaching low and wide. And of course it's an advantage to be facing forward, rather than looking behind like these rowers in rowing shells that almost run me over when I pause to take a photo. But today the gondolas are having a difficult time. They are flat-bottomed with shallow draught and offer a lot of windage.

Our course loops out past muddy banks to the town of Burano where all the houses are brightly painted in different colors. I hear every household uses a different color scheme. It's a town renowned for hand-made lace. We've been plugging away against the wind all the way so far, maybe for 15 kilometers, but as this is the turning point we’ll soon have the wind at our backs. We pause for a snack in the shelter of a narrow canal. It's not relaxing; the wind catches us, and local boats are constantly squeezing past. Although the festival has attracted participants (6,000 this year!) of every nationality, right now we have a just a mixture of English (Kate and Alex) and Swedish (Roland and Britta, who we have fun paddling with all over the world, and Elizabeth), with scarcely a word of Italian between us to offer in apology.

Back in the procession, we pass a barge handing out bottled water and bananas and cruise through sheltered waterways past abandoned islands. The lagoon has a history of man-made islands claimed from mud-banks that goes back for more than 2,000 years! But the walls that circle an island are only permanent while the islanders are there to maintain them. When an island is abandoned, the walls are eventually breached by the sea, and the lapping waves gradually wash the island away until all that is left is a mud bank.

We run into more open water, following a "road" bordered by lines of stakes that show the position of the shallows. The strong wind, plus a little contrary tidal flow, creates an awkward sea that sends boats broaching without warning, and it's all I can do to avoid collisions. But we reach the shelter of canals again at the brick-walled Murano. This is the town famous for its glass-making. The famous Venetian glass-makers were moved here in 1291 because of the danger of fire from their furnaces. Apart from all the fancy glass vases and mirrors, tiles for the mosaics on the fancy palaces in Venice come from here, as do the spectacular blown-glass chandeliers that are shipped all over the world. It's tempting to stop, but we leave Murano to follow the markers back to Venice, finally turning a corner past several swamped boats and water littered with floating oars and gear. Not every boat made it back, but here the canal forms a bottleneck, and there's almost nowhere to go, the boats are crammed together so tightly!

By the time we reach the spectacular Grand Canal, we have plenty of room again! Bridges are lined with cheering crowds, and there are shouts of encouragement from every building! We pass beneath Rialto Bridge, the stone bridge with all the shops on it, and we're on the home straight. Kristin eggs Kate along

with a question; "We're nearly there, but you can stop here if you like and take that canal back to the car…" Kate, weary now, retorts "No way! We get a medal if we finish? I'm going to get there if I have to swim!"

So the DoubleShot makes it to the finish! Kate and Alex collect their medals and certificates (so do we) and we cruise gently back to find Giorgio and Mauritzia, and Karen and Gabrielo, and carry the kayaks back to the trailer.

Next morning the papers describe scenes of disaster. There are swamped boats, swimmers and tales of collisions and strong wind. But we can laugh about it and relax back in the comfort of Capalonga, with a week of kayak tours, visits, restaurants and local wine ahead… The sun is warm. Life is sweet!

(Check out last years Vogalonga on Nigel's web-site)

Bacchanalian Baja

Kayaking without reason



This was a kayaking excursion but as with most good kayaking adventures... it's not just about the paddling. This tale also involves a burro in disguise... (no, that's not REALLY a zebra!)... and a critical volume of tequila (nobody knows exactly how much)


And in the good tradition of Aqua-Adventures adventures... (There HAVE been others... adventures... well, traditions too...) there was more to it behind first glance. Following festivities at a local bar/restaurant on March 31st (maybe I'll elaborate on those later...) had strayed beyond midnight, one person (I'll call her Jen to protect her identity) hatched the grand plan to open a zoo in a vehicle belonging to the Johnson kayak reps. This plan meant capturing wild animals from the plains of Mexico, and transporting them down the hill to the campground... starting with... yes, a zebra! It was dark... we didn't see the sign!

I have to say that I was amazed by the courage of AC-DC style rock singer Phil Hadley of England... who had earlier jolted the whole bar-full of youngsters onto the dance-floor with his inflammatory frontmanship... as he bent over to check out both ends of the zebra in the dark to figure out firstly which end was the front, and secondly whether the animal was male or female... I've always had a healthy respect for teeth and hooves... and the rest of the arsenal, so to speak. Brave man!


The zebra was tethered by a long rope... but didn't seem to want to move an inch from where she (Phil decided) stood. (Video clip by Russell Farrow... but don't tell Claudia)

It was then... in the silence of the wide plains of Mexico... quite close to the silent village... above the silent bay... that the zebra began to bray! The deafening foghorn of a sound echoed around the valley.

Two things then happened. First, almost every one of the brave hunters standing around the zebra sprinted off into the dark, followed by the sound of tumbling and crashing as they discovered the edge of the tall dusty bank down to the road. Second, the two remaining with the braying zebra (myself included) ran out breath through laughing so hard we became almost totally helpless.





Next day some of the group remained in disguise, just in case they could be identified...



Under the circumstances, if (Jen) had managed to borrow the burro, she could have ended up in a Mexican jail... which was exactly what happened to one of the two Johnson reps on the way back across the border, after the next, and our last, morning of paddling in Baja. (Jen), back at San Diego, received the phone call. Their vehicle had been impounded, one of them detained, perhaps indefinitely, leaving the other stranded at the border without transport. As (Jen) wrote down the details on her note-pad in dismay during the five minute phone call, she repeated out loud no less than three times for the dazed rep at the other end... yes... the date? Again? Yes... April first.

Oh and the other video clip? (Jen) kindly lent me her Point65 Whisky16 for the week... but with the repeated plea "PLEASE don't damage it". Of course, I love rock-hopping and playing in rough water... and I love the challenge of doing it without contacting rock... unlike someone else in her other fiberglass boat... how does the song go? "We don't tip-toe through the tidepools"? Well... of course what the eye doesn't see...

(There are more Baja 2009 images on my web-site nigelkayaks.com)

Early break in Florida

It's time to escape the northwest for a break in balmy Florida!



We take a trip on the Hillsborough River with Barb and Rick to look for wild birds and alligators. True to form we are soon gasping at the outrageous color of roseate spoonbills, at the tall striding sandhill cranes, wood storks and every variety of egret, and paddling under trees shaking with vultures.



The weather still cool, it's not the best for sunbathing alligators... but enough for the vultures...


Skilled sea kayaker Brad Tanner of Mote Marine gives us a great guided tour of the facilities at this non-profit independent marine research laboratory and rehabilitation center at Lido Key, Sarasota. With the longest-running research program into dolphins, Mote Marine scientists can identify every resident dolphin in the Tampa Bay and surrounding area, often from just a single photo, and have genealogical records running back more than 50 years.



Dolphins and sea turtles feature strongly here, but there are manatees at the rehab. center too. It's a great way to see what they look like underwater without getting your face wet!


And if you really don't like sticking your head in the water, you can see through the side of the 135,000 gallon shark tank too!


(If you like fishing, there's a life-sized model of the largest hammerhead shark caught locally with rod and line to show you what's possible...) (That's Brad standing beside the hammerhead shark)





With more than 200 varieties of Florida marine life on display in the aquarium, Mote Marine is the perfect place to start if you're visiting Florida. It shows what you might see, and I always see more when I know what to look for.


If you see specimens here that look less healthy, remember this is a working research and rehab. center. Many of the creatures you see were brought here injured or ill. After recovery they will be released again if possible.


With my brother David and lovely Kim, Barb, Rick, Claudia and Russell, we spend a day on the Weeki Wachi River.

Manatees float in the pools


Further upstream the water gets clearer and the colors more vivid.














Florida for me is about kayaking, canoeing and guitars. This year we are offered a guided tour of the Dean Guitar Workshops in Tampa, by John Puhl. It was really interesting to see how a growing company like this operates, and see the precision processes that are used to create these great-playing guitars.












No Florida trip would be complete without dropping in on Kent Sonnenberg at Legends Guitar inc. Kent always has some cool vintage guitars there. Guitars are always changing hands. It's fun to see what's in today... and his son Chad (a great guitarist!) is working on their web site, so soon you'll be able to see their new arrivals on line.












Inspired, we pull out a few guitars at home to play. Between kayaking trips, Russell has been spending more time playing with the Sizemore Band.
















The band rehearsals are at his house, but we see them play in Dunedin...



















Close to Dunedin and the brew-pub is honeymoon Island. Claudia takes us there to watch the pods of dolphins, and to picnic on the white sand beach.















Claudia and Kristin...








Before we leave for home we explore the Weedon's Island Preserve; there's a marked canoe trail there, and a kayak rental concession, and a boardwalk through the mangroves and an interpretive center. Something for everyone! We take off along the canoe trail; pristine white-sand beaches, mangrove tunnels and shallow lagoons with birds, cruising stingrays and leaping mullet...

Brighton New Year

Over New Year I visited Brighton, where I grew up in England. Strolling the sea front I was reminded of my early kayaking. (The Royal Pavilion above is close to the beach)

My first kayaking experience was on the oxbow lake at Cuckmere Haven, (east from Brighton) in a yellow canvas tandem, encouraged by my brother Michael. He later bought a partly finished wood-frame kayak, and re-skinned it. Anxious not to be left behind I scoured the classified ads in the local paper until I found a similar but already seaworthy kayak; a PBK11.

I can't imagine how I survived my first winter of paddling; my clothing was woefully inadequate for multiple immersions in the knee-deep surf zone as my kayak flipped following almost every ride. Dragging my kayak up the lumpy flint beach by West Pier, I'd retreat shivering to the damp cave of my friend's family fishing space under the seafront promenade to change from my drenched cotton t-shirt and running shorts. Coffee water heated on the tiny stove in a tin kettle that on one occasion yielded a boiled mouse...
My friends and I upgraded our kayaks after joining Brighton Canoe Club, with its storage facility "under the arches" near Palace Pier. I bought a used red KW3 and fiber-glassed wooden thigh braces into the cockpit for a tighter fit. Mimicking the tricks of Graham Goldsmith, we "beach-looped" our kayaks in the steep dumping waves, and later left sticky polyester resin pools and salt-damp fiberglass matting on the club-house furniture.

One of the club members "borrowed" a newly built KW3 from the storage rack to join us one day. The boat was not yet completely finished; no foot-braces or flotation. Standing the kayak on end in the dumpers, he slid right down into the cockpit and broke the bow off the kayak. With his trapped feet sticking out from the broken end and the kayak quickly sinking, I think he was lucky to be dragged from the surf alive!

A few miles along the coast at Shoreham was the Streamlight Mouldings workshop producing Keith White's "KW" kayaks. (my second kayak was a used red KW3, then an old slalom model) Closer to home the Goldsmith brothers Graham and Bob started up business as Gaybo Ltd with their first two models; "Mini-slalom" and "Funa" in the bare-wood attic space above a car body-work workshop in Brighton. (My third kayak was a blue Funa... the one shown in the photos above, taken by my dad).

Touring "home territory" at the start of 2009 I dropped in on "Brighton Canoes", ironically in the nearby coastal town Newhaven. While storekeeper Luke was busy attending a family who had just purchased sit-on-top kayaks, I checked out the Point65 kayaks in the racks.

Later we strolled through the town of Lewes. This historic town sits beside the River Ouse. Standing guard over the town is a flint-walled castle built after the Norman conquest in 1066 on the site of an earlier Saxon castle. The town boasts many interesting historical connections... for example a priory founded in 1078, and the more recent Anne of Cleves' House. Keeping her head, Anne received the property as part of her divorce settlement from King Henry 8th. This timber-framed thatched hall is now a museum.
The Lewes bonfire and fireworks celebrations on Guy Fawkes night (November 5th) each year commemorate not only the uncovering of the Catholic plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605, (including King James 1st with both theHouse of Commons and the Lords) but also the burning at stake in the Lewes high Street of 17 Protestant martyrs in Lewes during the persecution of Protestants by Queen "Bloody" Mary between 1555-1557. As part of the celebration 17 burning crosses are carried through town in memory of the Lewes martyrs. Effigies of Guy Fawkes and of Pope Paul 5th (head of the Roman Catholic church in 1605) are also paraded before being thrown on the fires.
The River Ouse is just one of several rivers that rise in the clay and sandstone Weald to the north, cutting through the chalk Downs to the English Channel coast. The River Cuckmere is another. On 2nd January Kristin and I revisited the Cuckmere. Sharing a canoe with Kristin, I paddled alongside my sister Debbie who had brought down the canoes and teamed with Kim, while David whirled around us in his whitewater kayak. We launched onto the Oxbow Lake near the mouth, and carried over the levee into the river by Exceat Bridge onto a rising tide, that would carry us up a meandering route constrained now by levees topped by public footpaths.


The white horse carved into the side of Hindover Hill, exposing the white chalk rock beneath, is quite recent. Apparently it was cut overnight in 1924 by three men working under a full moon. The Long Man of Wilmington further up the Cuckmere Valley on Windover Hill is much older, possibly dating back to neolithic times.
















We passed Alfriston, one of several ancient villages in the river valley. Alfriston's 14th century flint church predates the nearby Star Inn , 1520, which is an interesting place to stop for a pint and a ploughman's lunch. Beyond Alfriston, near Milton Street at the tidal sluice, we paused for lunch and to wait for the tide to turn before scurrying back through the short afternoon.


Before returning to Seattle we heard the Everest summit man Cliff was having a birthday gathering in Lewes, so we dropped in on him at the White Hart to wish him "many happy returns". Appropriately enough, we supped a "pint of Harvey's bitter", brewed down the road by the river Ouse, and long a favorite of mine. Turned out the barman was a kayaker... and used to work at Brighton Canoes...

Kayaking in China

Kayaking in China....


Kayaking in China with our Chinese friends was an opportunity not to be missed! Our first excursion is on the Huang Pu River in an area where large barges on the main river transfer sand to smaller barges that can navigate the maze of narrower waterways that break the flat land into a mosaic.









Paul watches sand fall into an already heavily laden barge.









A line of moored sand barges stretch into the hazy distance...




We turn from the main river into a canal and explore a route through small villages and farmland













Richard passes a pig-pen on the left and chickens to the right, and heads for the setting sun.









We pull from the river near a bridge where our truck driver will find us. Jasmine (left) and Young play with their shoes while they wait.
















The Bund... Our second trip proved to be more spicy! Finding a place to launch in Shanghai close to the historic Bund district is not easy! But the rewards made it worth the search. At night the tall buildings of the Pudong district across the river are lit with colorful lights. Brightly lit ferries and tour boats cross paths with commercial barges and ships, while house-sized TV screens on barges show adverts!

The busy traffic kept us dodging, while wakes rebounded from the river walls and docks. The five of us kept close together for safety; five sets of eyes on the lookout for the next boat sliding away from a dock into the darkness.





Lina and Nigel... (with Richard, Paul and Staffan)... our truck driver somehow left all our paddling clothes at the factory and brought only kayaks and paddles...








Eventually we were spotted by police, and two police boats with sirens and flashing lights cornered us agaist the sea wall. With searchlights trained on us they shouted instructions through a megaphone in Chinese. We never made it back to our launch place.






On the phone, our Chinese legal representative translated for us. We were put ashore from the police boat onto a ferry ramp. Free again, we retreated with our kayaks to the nearest street.

(the group from left; Staffan, nigel, Paul, Richard and Lina.)

Summer kayaking in Europe

Summer 2008 for us began in May. After the Vogalonga event in Venice we stayed on for another week to run classes and for the first Italian Sea Kayak symposium run by Bibionekayak a short distance from Venice; a perfect combination for a paddling and sightseeing visit to the Venice region.



Then we flew north to Stockholm Sweden, and PampasKajak, to teach classes in the city... below, water is flowing at the Strommen...


and to Bergen Norway to drop in on the Njord Sea Kayak Symposium....




(Barry (holding the Njord t-shirt) circumnavigated New Zealand this year with Justine Curvingen (image above right/front)
Here there is always a fun crowd, who paddle all day, eat, watch the presentations then dance to a live band until 3 in the morning.... (it's still light... see below...) before getting up to do it all over again!



Early next morning... we caught the ferry to the Faeroe Islands.

Some say the Faeroes were in Egypt... but they actually lie mid-way between Scotland and Iceland and despite having very little tidal range, they offer spectacular tidal rapids between the islands and have towering basalt sea cliffs with millions of nesting sea birds. While the ferry rested in its home port of Torshavn we spent the day roaming the tiny capital, and the surrounding area. I enjoy seeing the turf roofs on the old houses, and on the new hotels. What a great way to hold the roofs against winter storms, to soundproof and insulate in one living layer that can be grazed through the summer by sheep....



Iceland was our next stop...



Having circled Iceland by kayak with Geoff Hunter in 1977 I was invited back last year to give a 30th anniversary presentation and classes at the Eric the Red symposium. Sadly I was already booked for that time but readily agreed to come this year. Stenni (who has for years run kayaking and adventure courses in Iceland) and Ari (one of the first Icelandic paddlers) and the other enthusiasts on the east coast organized a really fun event, with classes for all ages. There were rolling classes in the open air swimming pool overlooking the fjord, skills classes and short trips in the fjord.....

and a helicopter rescue practice offering the opportunity to paddle in strong winds... Kristin was hoisted from a raft of kayaks into the helicopter...







Ari, one of the first Icelandic kayakers, designed from his own ideas then built the skin-on-frame kayak shown above as a teenager.

I met his father (below) in the 1980's when I returned to kayak the east coast with a group from UK.

(Freja Hoffmeister kayak rolling in the fjord.)











We joined an evening paddle to overnight at a haunted house near an eider nesting area,














...and flew next day to Rekjavik. Here is a city where the shops used to close if the weather was sunny... we had sunny and calm weather for our class and presentation at Sportbudin
the place to go if you want to try kayaking in the Reykjavik area.

I love Iceland, and this was my first opportunity to teach skills and to tell the story of out 1977 trip to Icelanders in Iceland. It made me happy to be back and to show Kristin a place I love.

Back in Seattle; the "sunny NW" we squeezed in trips to Cape Flattery, and to the Oregon coast, Deception Pass and Portland, partied for Kristin's birthday, collected the first DoubleShots to arrive in USA and then... away again to Sweden.

Venice Italy and the Vogalonga

The Vogalonga in and around Venice is the most colorful and exhilarating event I have experienced in a long time! With more the 1,500 boats; gondolas, canoes, rowing sculls, rowing barges and kayaks, there must have been thousands of participants. Giorgio Sartori, Kristin Nelson and Jennifer Kleck, and I launched our Point65 kayaks and paddled past the tall stone buildings and the gondolas through the city to meet up with a few other paddlers near the “Bridge of Sighs”… paddlers from the Netherlands, Croatia, Australia, Serbia and Sicily, Venice, Denmark and Switzerland.


Of course we paused for espresso on the way... here is Giorgio ordering. We tethered the kayaks outside.

Starting near St Marks Square at the end of the Grand Canal, the race loops around the lagoon visiting towns on other islands, including Borano, a lace-making center where all the houses are painted in different colors, and Murano, known for its glassmaking.

We stopped for a snack and espresso at Burano before finishing the route as far as the western entrance to the Grand Canal where we found the way still blocked by boats at the bottleneck created by the first bridge. Paddles and oars tangled and clashed as the current pushed the boats back.

The final part of the route follows the Grand Canal back to St Marks Square, past magnificent frescoes and mosaics, wrought-iron and marble facades. To either side we caught glimpses of narrow canals with steep stone bridges between tall buildings, with dark gondolas creeping along.

I was delighted to see people of all ages in every kind of paddle-powered craft taking part, some in costume and flying huge flags, others simply using whatever craft they could get hold of to use. There was a great sense of community. We dodged around taking photos, and sprinted forward or drifted back to see a particular boat more closely.

We will be in Italy for another week, teaching classes at nearby Bibione at the Capalonga campground, where the First Italian Sea Kayaking symposium will be held this coming weekend, 16-18 May. Come and join us! And then next year? We’ll certainly be coming back! Check on my web-site www.nigelkayaks.com in a few weeks time for more details of this trip and also to find out what is planned for 2009!