2023-08-12 -37 144

Location

600m off the coast of Elwood, in Port Phillip Bay.

Participants

Stevage
KT

Expedition

Pre-launch

Emboldened by the success of the recent aquatic adventure on Rutherford Inlet, I didn't immediately reject the idea of taking Tom's paddleboard down to Elwood, and paddling further than I can swim out into the bay, in the middle of winter. I rejected it slowly, over the course of an hour or more, while mulling plans with EB to act as my emergency rescue coordinator on the shore.

Then KT announced she was going to do it solo, by swimming.

I quickly backpedalled my rejection, and we teamed up. I hightailed it to Felix's house to collect the wrong lifejackets and not to pick up a spare paddle, located exactly where I thought of looking but didn't.

So we would be one swimmer, and one paddler, but with two lifejackets. We found a convenient place to park, and then discovered it would cost $17. So while I moved the car to a fractionally less convenient but free one, KT somehow inflated the paddleboard to maximum pressure using only the low-pressure/high-volume mode.

As befits our boating adventure pattern at this point, I whinged a lot about the inclement weather, and KT expressed great optimism and enthusiasm.

Our way to the beach was blocked by a couple of large fences, but now that I was lugging a huge paddleboard on my shoulder, I wasn't much interested in detours. We powered through, and soon found ourselves before a very calm sea, untroubled by wind or wave. And blessedly free of motorboats, jetskis and other annoyances. It was pretty much deserted.

Pre-launch faff.
Our way is blocked
Final thoughts.

Launch

KT had taken pains to impress on me that it would be normal for me to fall in at my first attempt of stand-up paddleboarding, and not to be afraid of it. The lesson I took was that standing up was for chumps, and I should just sit down, so I did that.

It was magnificent! The moment I drifted away from shore on my tiny floating platform, I loved it. Behind me somewhere there were some shrieks and curses from someone, presumably KT, discovering that water is cold, but I ignored them, drifting along in my bubble of bliss.

The shrieks and splashes continued for a bit until I got far enough away to be able to focus on the key task of navigating to the point.

Navigating to a point in the middle of a featureless body of water is actually somewhat tricky. What do you aim for? At first it seemed helpful that the small breakwater we departed from pointed more or less at the hash, but having a key reference point directly behind you turns out to be annoying, bordering on useless.

I took to aiming for a distant smudge of land across the bay - Arthur's Seat perhaps?

I had a lot of time to ponder and let my thoughts wander. Every few minutes, I'd do a couple of paddle strokes then drift while KT caught up.

We approached what resembled an angry committee meeting of pacific gulls.

"Hey Steve"

"Yeah?"

"What are those birds sitting on?"

"Um, they're floating on the water"

"Oh yeah, that makes sense."

"They're sitting on water".

[KT edit: to be fair, my line of sight was much lower and I could only see the tops of the birds. Possibly the angle – or some early-stage hypothermic hallucinations – had it looking to me like they were sitting on some kind of anomalous sand bar.]

On and on we gradually meandered to the point. One of us working hard, kicking away, trying to stay warm in the freezing water, and the other lazily bobbing along, every now and then sticking the paddle in the water or checking our progress on the map.

It was all rather delightful. The view of the city from the bay was spectacular, enhanced by the menacing clouds glowering overhead. A few distant ships, and moderately distant yachts, but no boats of any kind near us at all. It seems winter is the best time for boating adventures, but don't tell anyone.

Without really trying, we got to the point. A paddle stroke or two, and suddenly 1.5m! Hooray! I gingerly removed my phone from its waterproof case for a couple of photos, as a few drops of rain started to fall.

Distant KT
Out to sea
Steve and KT at the geohash.
KT at the geohash.

Return

The return journey was even easier, relieved of the burden of navigation by the obvious landmark straight ahead of us this time. I broke up the brief spurts of paddling with lounging around on the board, staring across the water practically at eye level and looking for fish.

"Hey, Steve"

"Yeah?"

"Am I actually moving?"

I looked around. The water was featureless. Even with a GPS-full phone in my hand, I wasn't sure how to tell if *I* was moving. Fifty metres behind, was she? I tried to sound encouraging.

"I have no idea".

I bobbed about a bit while she battled her existential crisis. Presently, she drew alongside my starboard side.

"You're definitely making progress."

KT was still going strong, powering home to a heroic finish and a smooth transition on the beach. In the car, her lips were going blue but she was cheered by the prospect of fish and chips and hot chocolate. So we made a detour through the streets of Elwood, near where I used to live, and satisfied all these desires. Perfect day out.