Symonds Yat 27 July 2008 |
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I started my kayaking career with Putney Bridge Canoe Club about five months ago, taking my first tentative strokes in the safety of the Saturday morning pool session. After about six or seven successful deep water rescues interspersed with other skills, I was ready for my first Thames paddle at low tide, and then high tide, upriver and then downriver. Finally my paddling skills were ready to take on the roaring torrents of Symmonds Yat and I signed up for a beginners’ white water day trip with Adrian, Sheila, Phil, Hugh and John Richards, a very jovial bunch indeed. I was a bit apprehensive, especially as Adrian kept telling me to bring changes of clothing for when I would capsize. (Note the use of when and not if) but despite this, I proved him wrong and my extra set of clothes was not necessary.
It's a really scenic river, the weather was great that day, and we had a leisurely paddle down the river taking in about ten miles of the summer weather and lovely countryside on our way to the legendary Yat rapids. There were dozens of other boaters (Canadian canoes, play boats, dancers, sit on tops) of all ages, abilities and descriptions, all extremely friendly and having fun.
After a lull of particularly lazy water, the current started to pick up, we rounded a bend and suddenly the Yat was before us! Adrian said, "we’ll stop, get out and inspect and then…no, we won’t need to, we’ll just run it… I’ll keep an eye on Amanda". On my first run, I shot down without stopping, purely concerned about staying upright, never mind choosing a line. When I got to the end, I looked around and saw everyone playing around on the waves in a leisurely fashion, breaking into eddies, surfing, ferrying, rolling, capsizing etc. Inspired by this, and undaunted, I carried my boat back along the bank and did it again.
On the next run, I tried to break out into an eddy, as it is termed, but went backwards over one rapid, got stuck on a convenient rock and went backwards over another rapid. My various faithful mentors assured me it happens to the best of us and that I had coped very well. On the third run, with Adrian at my side cheering me on, I determinedly stayed in the rapids and jolly well broke into eddies, which probably made for relatively boring viewing. By this time I was beginning to develop an affection for the bright pink boat which never faltered. Now if I could only convince a few of the beginners watching me that all this initial backwards and sideways stuff was the work of an expert and that I was throwing the Invader around the rapid like a play boater.
I think the constantly repeated mottos were, "keep paddling" and "edge downstream". For some paddlers, this was interpreted as when in doubt, turn your head sideways and throw in a few high angle strokes to make it look as dramatic as possible. Then if you disappear over the side, at least you’ll have done it with style. Eventually when we were all pretty tired, we clambered out and assembled to help Adrian to finish his supply of cakes and strap boats on roof racks. Then our heroic drivers turned the cars around started out for the long journey home.