[pe2-image src=”http://lh4.ggpht.com/-4GEZjk1Upm0/UuGVWilU9GI/AAAAAAAAZN4/vlG5-vcdGo4/s144-c-o/P1210018.JPG” href=”https://picasaweb.google.com/112133179186774955122/SouthAmericaSection3Stage17GuyanaSurinameFrGuianeGeorgetownToCayenne#5972218795343017058″ caption=”My second mangrove forest parking lot – before the water kept on rising. No more sleeping on top of the kayak!” type=”image” alt=”P1210018.JPG” ]

Another forced hammock night…

Pos: here
Loc: Mangrove forest
Acc: hammock
Dist: 33 km
Start: 7:00 End: 17:05

I woke again a bit stiff after about an hour, noticed I was now sitting dry on the mud, and started to make a move on top of my kayak. I covered the cockpit with the lid, but felt it was unnecessary to add the spray deck, pulled out of the front hatch my sleeping pad for padding and hammock for proper cover and wrapping against the wind, my ideal set up for on top of the kayak on dry ground. I made myself as comfortable as possible on just the cockpit cover, wrapped lengthwise into the really great rescue blanket, but I was surely missing a bit of padding and more cover for proper warmth in the wind. But I didn’t do anything to improve my rest, stayed put, survived and suffered moderately. I got enough sleep, could avoid lying on my backside all night, but could have done much better.

When I unwrapped for a pee, I simply stood up in my kayak, used my female urinating device right into the water like a man…but I better held on to my vertical mud stuck paddle, there would be nothing worse than falling into the mud in darkness half asleep. YUCK!

After the second pee, I changed to the sitting position again, sometimes with bent knees, sometimes on the back deck, and really got a few deep naps. But again, I could have done much better with my pad and hammock to wrap… it was a relief to hear the light noise of the water running up again. Yahoo! Nature is reliable…I quickly hung my butt over the side board for a stable morning poop before floating up again, changed back into my wet gear, had breakfast and was ready to float up fully.

Two more paddling days…about 63 km left. I wanted to paddle as far possible, as I had only 30 km left to my destination, where ever it was. My goal was actually to reach a spot offshore before the Paramaribo river, where I was hoping to be picked up by my contacts to save an additionally 25 km dead end paddling into the river to Paramaribo city. Two land spits with houses before the river mouth entrance were clearly visible on Google Earth, I opted to head for the second one.

After having cut down the distance to the last 30 km at around 5 pm, I spotted an opening in the mangrove forest usually blocked by fallen logs. This was my chance…but this time I’d be sleeping on top of my kayak on the mangrove forest ground! I found an easy open entrance “harbour”, could access the muddy mangrove roots forest ground, dragged my boat up the small ledge and started to prepare my night. I could change in the windy afternoon again with a small shower and without bugs into my long sleeve fleece clothes, covered up with my wind breakers, unrolled my sleeping pad, grabbed a few necessary gear pieces handy in a bag, and just started to relax on top of my kayak. No cooked dinner again…

One thing I didn’t think of… the kind of the similar situation compared to the mangrove forest night two days ago was different regarding the tide time. Last time I landed an hour before high tide, this time it was three hours… it came what had to come, at some point I realised my halfway dry mangrove forest ground would be flooded very soon! I raised myself from my kayak bed where I was able to relax for only about five minutes and searched for an alternative to another hammock night. It got dark at 7 pm, hight tide was at 8 pm, the water was raising, and no way I’d be waiting in or on or next to my floating kayak for about three hours until it may get grounded again to start having a real rest.

I found two reasonable trees, knotted the dreaded but now helpful cage to the stems, grabbed my pad, blanket and now smaller gear bag and was hoping to have a bit of a better night than on the first try. Sure I tied my already swimming kayak well to the trees, secured my paddle and retreated again into the hanging cave. It was attached again too low… I crawled out again to hang it higher, already standing in almost knee deep water. But now…Another move inside, all seemed to be all right. Just that it was still an 1 1/4 hours to high tide…

I made myself as comfortable as possible, thought this night must be better now, and was now somehow happy about the hammock option. I heard my poor little kayak being washed up and down by the small waves rolling into the mangrove forest, and was hoping the cracking noises came from the logs and not from my kayak. I couldn’t do much, I had to just let it float up and bang around between the trees. My poor baby! In the darkness, it sounded even worse! I could only pray it would hold up, and my tie down rope was long enough for the half meter additional water, that was biggest worry.

Eventually I grabbed my e-book and tried to relax while waiting for high tide and the small waves stopping to roll in and raise the water and to annoy my kayak being banged around the trees. But soon I felt it… the first small wave was touching my saggy low hanging backside… shit! Hung too low still! It was already 7.15 pm, dark, and bugs were around, no way I’d be going out again into the water to try to hang this hate-love piece higher. I rather was hoping that the last hour the water wouldn’t rise as quickly, and the nylon bottom with my Thermarest pad inside plus my windbreaker pants would be resisting the small splash washing my backside every 15 seconds or such. The washes became more frequent, and I was already moving higher up to one side and eventually arching my back every time I heard another wave rolling in. What a stupid situation! But I just had to hang in there, not feeling really wet on my bottom at all, just getting kicked in my backside frequently. If that is the punishment for my hate-love of the hammock…

Eventually it turned high tide at 8 pm, and the waves became less and lower. Once fully gone, I really could relax, put away my e-book and try to catch some sleep in a halfway side position. I thought about my poor kayak once more, but there was nothing I could do!