We woke at around 7am and after an unhurried breakfast and a thorough assessment of the prevailing weather conditions, we set off. Our destination could not be seen as we paddled out of the cove and would be nothing more than a promise on the end of a compass bearing for the first 2 hours. The forecast we had been given the previous night was for a 10 to 15 knot southwesterly wind. As we paddled out past the protection of the cove, whilst the wind was only slight, it appeared to be coming from the southeast. We convinced ourselves that once we got out into the ‘clean wind’ unaffected by the prom, it would swing around to the southwest and give us the tail wind that would make this leg of the journey so much easier. It never happened.For nearly 12 hours we pushed into an at times howling head wind. Progress was painfully slow and conversation at a minimum. Stopping to rest was not possible, as the wind, and now the current were against us. Any stopping meant losing ground.
On the horizon to our left, a container ship could be seen heading in our direction. As it got closer, we became increasingly concerned that we were on a collision course. Unsure whether to continue paddling forward, stop or rapidly paddle backwards, Nick suggested we put the sale up in the hope we would be seen. Whether this had any effect or not, we were both relieved to see the ship pass in front of us just a few hundred metres ahead.
The wind dropped away for a short period and by midday, Hogan Island could frequently be seen from the peak of the undulating swell. A pod of Dolphins swam by, seemingly oblivious to our presence as ‘Here comes the sun’ by the Beatles played on repeat in my head. For a short time, I think I was enjoying the paddle. The wind soon picked up again and just as quickly, my enjoyment level dropped. Unenthusiastically we pushed on.
As we approached our destination, we encountered a strong tidal race. By now we were both exhausted from a full day of paddling and desperate to complete this leg of the journey. For a further hour and a half we battled against the current before we rounded the point and finally pulled up on the beach next to a small hut. Exhausted, wobbly, and covered in salt, we dragged ourselves out of the kayak and up the beach toward the hut. We had made it!
After a rushed dinner and both of us nursing blisters and sore shoulders and arms, we retired to the hut. Within minutes I fell asleep only waking once throughout the night to the sound of rats running around the hut. Too tired to care, I drifted immediately back into a deep sleep.