(Picture by Rose Fletcher)

It was a dark and rainy morning, with some onshore wind going. The wind was supposed to go down a bit the next hours, and hopefully the sky would be clearing up as well. I launched through the dreaded 7-8 surf lines in a start and stop technique, but with enough power to punch over the white water of the just broken wave. But I have really seen such stuff bigger and more violent…lucky me! I got wet, but paddled out without capsizing. Yahoo!

The day’s paddle was as boring as yesterday. I was paddling about 1 km offshore, out of the way of any breakers, but still feeling the swell running, higher or lower at times.

I plotted 70 km in my GPS, and started to work down the numbers. I was really looking forward to see something different again, actually, to *do* something fully different that this monotonous paddling way offshore almost all day…I was seeing me already at the end of the trip, successfully done, ready to move on. Yes, the enjoyment should be the journey, not the arrival, but honestly, this journey is a very long and mostly monotonous one which requires all your mental and physical power to complete as planned.

I called Greg several times that day, making sure he didn’t get bogged with the van in the sand. But he was a good 4-wheel driver after the last weeks of practice, and managed to get to the point where we planned to meet again. He picked a spot on the beach where the surf looked a bit less, and told me, from his point of view, the beach was changing actually all the time he was driving along! Sometimes it was steep and had more violent looking breaking lines with trashy dumpers into the onshore gutter, sometimes it was very flat and shallow, and the surf lines were running wide from offshore, but relatively small, compared to the toughest parts.

The landing was no problem that late afternoon, the breakers seemed to be less than on the last landing. I could avoid the strongest breakers by coming in diagonal and peering over my shoulder if I needed to speed up or to wait a bit to let a breaker crash upfront me. Two wet broaches and I was in!

This night we could drive into the Coorong estuary through 32-miles crossing for a campsite close to the beautiful salt lakes. It was a bit more sheltered than in the dunes somewhere, and nice to see anyway.

Text message from Freya:

36.21 139.43, Coorong Beach.  32 miles crossing level 70 km 5:00 a.m. to [time missing in email] p.m.

Launching was wet, but alright. Glad the swell is lowish with around 2 meters only. The  8 or so breaker lines are not as trashy as they probably can be. The day’s paddle started with a bit of dark sky and rain, but became a nice day later. Landing alright again, two wet broaches only. God, it could be worse!