REGENTS CANOE CLUB NEWSLETTER

JUNE 2005

A BIG HELLO TO ALL MEMBERS

Well I’m back. I have just been off enjoying myself. Enough of that and back to being a Regents committee member. Well, I will be as soon as I renew me membership, something I hope you’ve done or are just about to do, otherwise this will be your last newsletter.

Stop press. Life member Mike Stock final tied the knot with Jan Challis on 1st July – congratulations to them both.

Congratulations also to Stuart and Tracey who announced thier engagement on the recent Slovenia trip, after orginally meeting on the beginner’s course a few years ago. More importantly their paddling has came on buckets. New regents romances may be blossoming - watch this space.

As I’m sure you are all now aware a very civilised AGM took place in April. Several members stood down, Angela, after a year off rushing cross town, resigned as secretary, and Jo after a year of dealing with IBC as fled back to New Zealand then Leeds. Michelle Webb, after four very productive years as training Officer, has found the pressure of this duty, garden design courses and looking out for her delinquent husband too much.

The articles this issue I think are excellent, showing different forms of canoeing trips.

I’d love to include articles on say sea kayaking, polo or even marathon racing.

Does anyone know how canoe sailing works?

Did you know that Wath’s dad once had to scramble onto a fourth floor window ledge to poke Paul into the recovery position? Sorry Paul it was better than the sleep walking/sofa tale.

Anyway, enough of my garbled rubbish here’s the exciting articles;-

EASTER ’05 – SURFS UP (AND SO ARE THE CHAVS) – by Paul Wathan

Steve Flatman’s Easter surf trip to Woolacombe started as chaotic as all Castle Canoe Club trips. Castle Chairman Mark blew out on the morning of departure leaving Leo to beg, steal or borrow a car (with success) and make an impromptu visit to Halfords to purchase a roof rack. I had intended to leave London early to beat the bank holiday traffic but Dickie had to undergo some last minute emergency dentistry work and by the time we left it was full on rush hour. Six and a half hours later my car was still the first to arrive at WoolacombeBayHolidayVillage, where we had booked two “luxury” caravans between the ten of us. Fortunately the bar was open till midnight and we were entertained by redcoat “Our Jenny” and some godawful scouse magician/comedian/juggler. Chav culture was alive and kicking in the audience, who were luvin it.

Saturday morning saw us assemble on the beach and drag our boats to the waters edge (about a mile out as it was low tide!). The waves were pumping eight footers and great for surfing back in if you could punch through them to get out in the first place. Full credit must go to Leo’s girlfriend Issa, who had never been in a kayak before and Bryn who hadn’t paddled since his school days. Needless to say trashings were aplenty and much upside down time was spent. I suffered my mandatory swim, rather embarrassingly in the shallows, though I prefer it described as a technical exit!

After our exploits in the surf it was off to the pub for a few pints and grub before the evening’s entertainment back at camp. This time it was the “Woolacombe (Chav) Man” competition, skills included having to down a pint of lager in one and do a “Tarzan” by rescuing Jane (Our Jenny) from the make believe jungle. But this was followed by the highlight of the weekend – Meatloaf, well a Meatloaf look/sound-a-like, who apparently came runner-up in Matthew Kelly’s “Stars in their Eyes”.

Next day we decided upon a river trip. The river Barle was at its lowest I had ever seen it but what the hell. It was lovely countryside and the sun was shining. There was quite a grabby stopper at the end, which didn’t want to let go – fortunately I was eskimo rescued by Dickie (and Steve!) otherwise it could have been swim (technical exit) no. 2.

Sunday saw me, Christine, Dickie and Ian leave the delights of ChavCity and head off in search of the mighty white water rivers of Wales. After dropping Ian off at Tiverton to visit his parents we ground to a halt on the M5 (for 2 hours) but eventually made it to our B&B in Llantwryd Wells where we were served fine fare by chef and host Peter James MBE. The next day we were to discover that all rivers in Wales were bone dry and made a mad dash to the Tryweryn to catch the last hour of the weekend’s only guaranteed dam release of water.

On Monday, we did a bandit run down the Dee from Chain Bridge to Mile End Mill taking in the grade 4 Serpents Tail rapid. Although there is no access agreement for this section of the river no one seemed to mind and we were greeted by friendly waves from the locals and tourists alike. Lots of playing in demo boats afterwards at JJs.

A good Easter away from London – Thanks to Steve for organising the first part of our trip – I’m going to Butlins for my summer holiday.

TRIP REPORT: BRECON BEACONS - FEBRUARY 05

Having left work early on the Friday we made good progress on the M4 to Wales, arriving at our B&B just outside Brecon at around 10.00pm. This must have been the poshest B&B Christine and I have ever stayed at on a paddling trip. The en-suite bathroom came equipped with a separate shower, Jacuzzi bath, bidet, his and hers wash hand basins and even our own bathrobes! With the biggest breakfasts in the world provided in the morning this was also extremely good value for money at £29.50 per person per night. The name of the B&B was Felin Glais and it has its own website – I highly recommend it if you’re looking for that extra bit of luxury. If you are on your own though watch out for the single person supplement if you are occupying a double room (ask Miles for details!).

After the hearty breakfast on Saturday morning we met up with our fellow paddlers, who had been staying at various other more austere B&B/bunkhouse accommodation in the area and drove in convoy to Rhayader, situated alongside the upper section of the River Wye. It had been raining constantly in mid Wales all the previous week and the Wye was a good metre and a half higher than I had ever seen it before with some nasty looking stoppers and holes just above the usual “get-off”. We were joined at RhayaderBridge by Pam’s group of Regents’ intermediate paddlers. The river was a horrible looking brown colour and definitely in spate. “When the river is brown, canoeists will drown” was heard from one the more experienced paddlers amongst the assembled masses (Jenny Wilmott) and that was enough for the Pam’s group who called it a day and headed off for the tea shop.

Having driven all the way from London the night before, our group, on the other hand, decided to give it a go. We headed up river and paddled a 4 mile section of the Upper Wye, graded at 3(4). It was one of the quickest 4 miles I had ever paddled due to the fast flow of the water. There were some very interesting boils, swirls and recirculating eddylines in the water along the way, which could have easily caught out the unwary, but we all managed to survive in one piece and spent some time playing on a nice surf wave at the end of the paddle.

Saturday night was spent in Brecon, downing a few pints in a friendly local hostelry, followed by a slap up meal accompanied by a couple of bottles of wine in the “Tipple & Tiffin” – again highly recommended if you are ever in that part of the world.

Sunday’s paddle saw our group of six (me, Christine, Dickie, Colin, Allan and Miles – we had lost John and Kit from the previous day’s exploits but had been joined by Allan, who had driven up from Cardiff) try our first descent of the Upper Irfon. This was a much smaller volume river than the Wye, being located higher up in the mountains and thus had not been so affected by the rain. The river was graded 4(5) but was quite low so probably paddled a grade less. Nevertheless it had some very interesting and technical drops and because none of the group had paddled it before, we were forced to do quite a bit of scouting and portaged a couple of the harder rapids. At the “get-on” we were greeted by a blizzard and a few strange looks from the local farmers who thought we were completely bonkers! The river ended with a solid grade 3 drop under a bridge, which caused a couple of unforced rolls from two of our group. The river proved to be a good run, very scenic, flowing through much unspoilt high moorland in one of the wildest areas of Wales. I would definitely like to try it again, probably with a bit more water next time.

The afternoon was rounded off in a nice tea shop in Llanwtyd Wells, where Dickie took a shine to the very friendly waitress – well it was Valentine’s Day Eve, before the long drive home.

All in all a great weekend away

Paul Wathan

THE CITY FROM SEA LEVEL

Alix Cordell, Graham Hood, Ian Tokelove, Jo Kilburn, Katie Cordell and Pete Stephens.

Whilst some club members paddled in Provence a small hardcore of Regent’s newer paddlers decided to take on one of the most powerful rivers in the UK. We all know the river, but there are few that regularly paddle it. Yes, the mighty, murky Thames, flowing right through the heart of our home city.

Kayakers wanting to paddle on the Thames in central London face one immediate problem. There are very few places where you can actually access the river. If you don’t fancy extreme seal-launchs from the embankment wall you’re limited to an a few sets of 19th century steps and the occasional disused slipway. The situation does improve at low water, when all sorts of beaches appear, although finding nearby parking can still be a hassle. The river also has a habit of changing direction every six hours, so it’s definitely worth checking the tide times at the Port of London website (see link at end).

We chose to launch from a set of steps on the north bank, downriver of ChelseaBridge. The get-in isn’t an easy one, but does have the advantage of easy parking and being directly opposite a pub - the King William IV on Grosvenor Road. Having unloaded our boats we left Pete and Alix to watch over them whilst the rest of us drove to the getout, a slipway at the foot of the Isle of Dogs, before Graham shuttled us back to Chelsea.

Getting on to the river proved awkward. I’d anticipated some slack water after high tide but the river was already flowing rapidly around the steps, and was choppy enough to produce frequent two foot waves. We held each kayak firm on the stairs until each paddler was safely sealed in and launched into the flow. Pete was last in, and with nobody on the steps to hold his boat steady I was worried he’d swim, but with Graham’s waterborne help he made it look easy.

With the trickiest bit over with we headed directly across the river, towards the empty bulk of Battersea Power Station. We then paddled downriver towards VauxhallBridge and the delights of London town. We stayed river right for the whole journey down, avoiding the shipping lanes in the centre of the river, the busy piers that line the north bank and the nogo zone around the Houses of Parliament.

Needless to say we saw plenty of sights, from an angle and perspective that few tourists, or indeed Londoners, can hope to enjoy. There was very little river traffic for us to worry about, but we still had to keep our eyes open, as Graham discovered when he decided to paddle backwards and found that the pilot of the Tate catamaran was politely waiting for him to stop blocking the river. With a cheeky grin Graham got the hell out of the way and the catamaran surged into full gear, roaring past us in a cloud of spray.

The Thames in central London is surprisingly choppy, with waves that can reach three feet and even a series of small but surfable waves beneath one of the bridges. The tide also does strange things, occasionally looping back on itself so you suddenly find yourself fighting the current. There are also definite obstacles to avoid, such as the moored barges (the tide simply rips under them and would probably keelhaul anyone unfortunate enough to swim in front of one). We also saw some very strange water beneath one bridge span, the river jumping and buckling as if a large buoy had been sucked under. We were curious, but not that curious, and took another route.

Having passed beneath nine bridges and most of central London we reached TowerBridge and were delighted to find it opening for us! Or maybe it opened for the tall masted vessel that proceeded to sail up river, leaving us to paddle the right hand arch. Nice to see anyway, and a fitting salute to Jo, who after a few weeks back in New Zealand will be moving north to Leeds (and proper white water).

TowerBridge opens for Regents

After TowerBridge the river widens, and the commercial core of London gives way to expensive, riverside real estate. There is still plenty of history, old docks and maritime pubs, but this part of the river may not appeal to everyone. A get out at Limehouse Basin (and then a paddle back to Regents?!) might be a possibility, but I hadn’t checked that out, so we with tired shoulders, cramped legs, but still enjoying ourselves, we paddled past Canary Wharf and on towards Greenwich.

The get out was an old ferry slipway directly opposite Greenwich and the Cutty Sark, close to the Island Gardens DLR station. We were greeted by the inevitable eight year old throwing stones at us, although he opted for a quick retreat when he realised we were coming ashore. I think we all felt suitably surreal as we walked back into the normality of a warm, London afternoon clad in buoyancy aids, rubber, lycra and spraydecks. Thankfully we received little attention, because the next step was the delicate task of stripping off and changing next to the car, whilst silently praying that a large group of braying adolescents wouldn’t walk around the corner and catch us with our pants down!

I’m definitely up for future trips on the river, both in and out of central London, and will post details of any upcoming paddles in the newsletter. Ian . .

Alix and Katie approach the get out

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If you want to organise your own trip, there’s useful info at but note that the suggested get out would be awkward

Tide tables can be found at

Beginner's Course Weekender

The River Wye, Gloucestershire

‘Tutors’

Tom Beaumont

Michelle and Allan Tyler

Newbies

David 'Piranha'

KC 'and the sunshine'

Gareth ‘corkscrew’

Ian 'phones R me’

Report

With an unexpected rush, we tip over from the flat water and bounce into the rapid.

With our shoulders braced, we pull hard strokes and rock from edge to edge.

We steer towards the calm eddy, with hope rather than certainty strengthening our blades.

With a sweep and a tilt, we come to a gentle still and breathe again. Made it! No longer a beginner.

The April beginners' course had started 6 weeks before on a grey chilly spring evening.

The five beginners fumbled with spray decks and worried whether their finest urban jacket might get damaged by the water.

As we wobbled nervously on the wild waters of the city basin, watching out for weils infected water rats (this is all rats – they make better swimmers than canoeists - Ed), the three tutors probably worried whether taking

these trainees on was such a good idea after all,

They were right to worry. We nearly drank the pool dry in the indoor sessions,

slowly learning not to still be yelping as our heads sank again.

'Follow the leader', played on the canal, became 'Whatever, do your own thing'. Our bracing would have been more suited to a plane. And as for the draw stroke...not a pretty picture.