The evening before our last day, Boyan had said he thought there wasn’t going to be much wind tomorrow, so we could work on our forward stroke. Frank’s back had been hurting in the double, so when we went into Tarifa for dinner he’d stopped at the ferry terminal and booked an excursion to Tangier for the day.
I dropped him off after an early breakfast and I was sitting in my usual place overlooking the ocean and using the hotel’s pathetic wifi when Kassie sent me a message saying that they were going to do a downwinder. I was confused – I didn’t know if she meant the group was doing one in the afternoon, or she had hooked up with the two english guys to do a downwinder in the morning, but then ten minutes later she looked up from her computer to realize that she’d been sitting right behind me all the time, and she came over to clarify. It turns out that she had come to the hotel in the morning because the group was just about to leave for an unprecedented morning downwinder and nobody had noticed that I was back from dropping off Frank already.
I got ready as quick as I could, and we all hopped into the van for the trip to Punta Paloma. It was Karen’s turn to paddle with us, and so we had the three Germans, one Swede, one Australia, one Canadian/American, and Boyan the Bulgarian. I have lost track of which person was in which boat at this time, but I do know that Kassie and I were in red stripe V8s.
We went out beyond the point and turned downwind. There was a strong set of waves coming from about our 7 or 8 o’clock and running offshore, and a weaker set coming from about our 4 or 5 o’clock. The current/tide was against us, which is the main difference about going in the morning instead of the afternoon, and that steepened and shortened both sets of waves. The set coming from the shore direction got weaker as we went on, and the set going towards the shore got stronger – because of this, and because we were going so far down the beach, we ended up being fairly far out to sea, far enough it have about a kilometer of time over a shoal or reef that made everything more choppy and confused.
The two uber athletic Germans ranged far ahead, while Karen and the younger of the three Germans held down the middle, and Kassie and I brought up the rear. Boyan ranged up and down the line trying to herd the cats and keep us together. For the middle couple of kilometers I was finding myself having to actually wait for Kassie, which made me think I was actually improving some, but those thoughts were dashed by the afternoon’s paddle where once again I spent most of the time bringing up the rear. No idea what the difference was – it might have been her, it might have been me, it might have been the conditions, it might have been the time of day. Maybe I should just stop trying to measure myself against everybody else and measure myself against myself. And on that yardstick, I think I have much to be happy about. I think I was doing better at catching waves in the big stuff, better at linking, and better at not getting a cockpit full of water than even I was a few days ago. Stuff that would have terrified me a year ago was downright fun, and stuff that was hard work on Monday was almost easy by Saturday.
I shouldn’t get cocky, though. I’m fully aware that even Lake Ontario can produce conditions that make these ones seem tame, and I’ve got much to learn and practice.
One technique that got a real workout in the morning was trying to pick the right wave when you’ve got two sets setting up interference patterns. Sometimes instead of waves, you’ve got pyramid shaped lumps forming and dissolving, and trying to find a lump that is going to push you in the right general direction, or push you in the wrong direction but give you the speed you need to catch one going in the right direction can be a frustrating and rewarding experience. At one point during the morning paddle I found myself stalled on top of he fourth wave in a row with the cockpit filling with water and I said “stop chasing the big ones, find some small waves and just enjoy the small push they give you for as long as it lasts”. That worked, and gave me both the rest and the speed I needed and I soon found myself on big waves again. Boyan would gather us together for short pep talks, which also helped you get out of the intense concentration on just the next wave, give you a chance to enjoy the view for a few seconds, and then refocus on the task at hand. Even when he broke you out of a nice streak of linked waves, it was a good idea.
Just before heading into shore, Boyan made us do a set of remounts. I haven’t done remounts in meter high waves in a while, and it’s a good skill to practice in a nice safe environment with the waves pushing you towards shore and a big group of people around. I kind of blew the first one, but the subsequent ones went well and I made sure to practice on my less good side. I gave a small tweak to my shoulder, but not so bad that I couldn’t paddle.
The afternoon’s downwinder was very similar. The tide and current were running with us, and the wind was a bit stronger, so the surf was a bit better, but the part on the reef was even rougher and more challenging. Again, the emphasis was on turning towards the next wave, especially when you were on one that was petering out and you could see one forming at an angle. We zigged and zagged, but generally progressed towards our destination, although at the end we found ourselves abeam the take out and several hundred meters off shore, necessitating a bit of paddling in beam seas. I’d anticipated this a bit and come more directly inland while the rest of the group did a wide arc – except the two irrepressible Germans who’d actually paddled past the take out and then back into the waves and current just for the extra exercise.
After two 12.5 km downwinders in one day, my shoulder was a bit sore, my left calf muscle was a bit cramped, my psoas muscles in my groin were stiff getting out of the boat, and my left knee was hinting at that stabby pain I sometimes get, and of course my hand was still a bit mangled. I was, for the only time, kind of glad that I was done paddling for a while. I was actually so tired that I didn’t even go to the hotel porch to use the wifi – I just laid down and tried to read until it was time to pick up Frank. And after dinner, only the briefest of checks of my email and Facebook, a quick dump of all available clothing into my fortunately oversized suitcase, and off to bed.
Of course in the morning all the pain is forgotten and I wish I was paddling again, but today is a full day of travel and no time to even look longingly at the boats on the trailer. Oh well, maybe I’ll be back some day.