Surfski Knowledge Base

David Hooper
09/09/18 #23773

I got a last minute urge to punish myself. Weekend sailing plans fell through and weather looked blah, so late Friday night I signed up for the race. Though, having not paddled further than about 14 miles all summer, and that just last weekend, calling my efforts a “race” seemed a little overblown. “Challenge” it was though – I mostly just wanted to see if I could paddle 20 miles. Plus, it sounded beautiful. I’ll start with apologies. First to Cryder: since I didn’t decide to go til late Friday night and left to drive up at 6 am Saturday, there wasn’t a chance to help transport your rudder up there. Second to Kevin O: Bainbridge is on my list for next year! Felt the Indian Arm itch, and needed to scratch it.

The start was in waves: first wave at 8 am, with mostly prone paddlers and SUPs, second wave was at 8:45 for those thinking they’d finish between 3.5 and 4.5 hours. Based on my previous week’s paddle, that was what I was figuring. Most of the fast surfskiers went in the third wave at 9:30. I’d also been looking at the tides, which had a 4+ knot ebb predicted that we’d have to buck going north during the first half of the race. The second wave start seemed like it had a better chance of catching the tail end of the ebb after turning around the halfway point – and also would have less of the subsequent flood to fight on the way back south. Once committed to a start wave, we were required to stick with it. Once on the line, however, I wondered if I’d made a mistake - it ended up being mostly fast SUPs and outriggers, with just a few of us (slower) surfskiers, mostly V8ish boats, except for me in my V10 Sport. With no drafting outside of class, it was looking to be a lonely paddle.

In the end, it worked out fine. A mixed OC2 led the way up the Arm, gradually widening their lead on me in second. I hugged the shore whenever possible, trying to avoid that ebbing current. Not sure if it helped or not. About ½ way up the Arm, I heard a woman’s voice trailing right behind me. It turned out to be OC-1 paddler Leeanne Stanley from Kelowna, right on my tail. She was there all the way to the ½ way point at Granite Falls. There, I’d promised myself food and energy drink. I was still feeling pretty good and emotions said “hold her off”, but intellect said “stop and fuel”. In a rare event, intellect won. Leeanne cruised past, “What? You’re stopping now?” As far as I could tell, she never broke pace the whole friggin’ way. Scott Borle, another OCer from Kelowna, also caught up, but also ate, drank, and stretched, as we joked about how our cramping asses would be the limiting factor on paddling that distance.

After a slow mile eating and sipping between strokes, I finally settled in again, waiting to feel the pull of that still-ebbing tide waft me back to Deep Cove. Instead, head wind. Not strong, only ~5-10 mph, just slaps across the bow like Mother Nature slapping my face to say, “Hah! Not so fast, or easy!” Close to shore gave little protection, and I was guessing what little dwindling ebb current would be stronger further out. Leeanne was slowly widening her lead. The mixed OC2 that had led our heat all the way up the Arm turned out to be part of a relay team (now there were some smart people!!), and they were well out of sight. Scott was just a bit behind me. Occasional glances over my shoulder convinced me that if I backed off at all, he’d go by as well. By the power plants, I was definitely feeling my lack of distance training. By Twin Island, all focus was on just trying to maintain form and not completely fall apart. I kept waiting for the fast paddlers in the third wave to slide by, just as we’d been passing the first wave SUPs and prone paddlers. As Deep Cove came into view, I knew I could finish, but it was a question of how fast – and it still looked a long ways away.

Rounding Jug Island and crossing the Arm back towards Deep Cove, the water suddenly went glassy. No wind, no discernible current. Though Leeanne’s pink Gorge t-shirt was just a dot in the distance, I found a little extra to push with for the last mile or so. I knew Scott was not far behind. As I crossed the finish line, I was waiting for the boom of the finishing cannon, the fireworks, and streams of confetti. But the girl recording just glanced at my number, looked up from her sheet, and asked for confirmation: “Dave?” “Yep.” I turned around, slowly paddled out, congratulated Leeanne, and cheered on the folks coming in for a bit. As I pulled my boat out of the water, the first folks from the third wave were crossing the line.

All in all, it was a fun day – beautiful course, decent weather (hooray for cool and cloudy), and lots of raffle prizes - though none were won by either myself or the only other Bellinghamster I saw there, SUP paddler Dale Plant. (There are two lessons here: First, with something like 40 raffle prizes and only 64 people signed up, I think Dale and I didn’t win a raffle because the Canadians are still mad about Alan Lipp dissing their races. Second, there were lots of categories, including those for the smart people (relay) with only one or two entrants. Some (women’s HPK) had none. So, if you’re looking to bring home an impressive painted rock prize, you and two friends in the same category should sign up next year.) Overall, I felt pretty good about my paddle. It was a longer distance than I’d ever done, I beat the pace I was aiming for, and I could fool myself into thinking that I’d finished second for soloists (I just ignored the fact that all the third-wave paddlers would be way faster than me – yet another bonus of starting in the second wave). Plus, it only really hurt for the last six miles or so.

Dave H.

David Scherrer
09/09/18 #23774

Great write up Dave!