Farewell, Indian Summer

My intimate partner-in-crime, Indian Summer, sank at the relentless Cheung Tsui last Sunday.  Along with her, I nearly lost Dennis to hypothermia too.

Sometimes, something happens out of the blue and pushes you to go crazy against your own limits.  Increasingly I feel as though I need to do something rash, like a heroic solo around the world, just to atone for my errors.  I thought I was good at kayaking, and maybe I was good at propelling myself, but I knew nothing about trip planning and taking care of my friends.  My ignorance of my limitations turned me into a water-logged megalomaniac.

I want power, I want complete mastery of my kayak, I want her to obey me, to move the way I want her to move in the worst possible condition.  And I don't think I can put this snafu behind me until I managed that.  I mean to paddle very hard, everyday, even if it means paddling in the dark, even if it means paddling in T8.  I'm feeling restless, full of angst that I can't put my fingers on.  

Improvised Kayak Shelter

I'm itching to pull off another circumnavigation of Lantau stunt, but want to be suicidal and do it all in one day.  It's the catholic education in me, I swear...

Only thing is, there is a very small chance that I will not make it back to DB in time.  True, I wouldn't really need to cross channels.  But my body might protest loud enough that I have to get some rest before I go on.  And if it's rough in Fun Lau area, I'm certainly not going to paddle alongside the hydrofoils in the dark.  

Which means I need to be a good boy-scout and be prepared.  For the life of me I can't seem to find my old camping gears (bivy, tent, exposure bag, etc)  So I'll just have to improvise... 

0230am and I still can't sleep, I have this kayak-emergency shelter idea cooking in my head, I just have to get it out.

This is what I've been saving up for that rainy day (and you wonder why I'm always in thisdress):

1. land before dark (!!)
2. remove foot rest
3. place all gears in a spare XXL garbage bag (to stay clear of sand)
4. sponge dry cockpit
5. wipe cockpit down with dry cloth
6. make safe call
7. setup clothesline to hang wet stuff in case the rain stops ...
8. inflate thermorest, fit it inside the cockpit.  put aside pump if using one. (or large fluffy towel if thermorest is too much trouble)
9. place sleeping bag in cockpit on top of thermorest, toss in food, drinks,  and First Aid kit for good measure.
10. hang a small led light and mosquito mask around neck
11. insert paddle shaft into the "tube" of the tent fly*** (or secure with large clothpins) 
12. peg down/ tuck in free end of the tent fly under the kayak
13. secure kayak position with divided up gears, support bow and stern on both sides. Secure the rudder.
14. change into dry clothes, hang wet stuff or put them away for the night.  Oh, remember to pee (TP)before climbing in or else... u_u 
15. wear the spare (dry) sprayskirt, loosen it up all the way around the waist, climb into cockpit and fit the skirt onto combing
16. wiggle one shoulder into the sprayskirt and worm my way into the kayak, toss paddle-with-fly over to the other side of kayak to form loose rain cover
17. turn on LED light, fix mosquito net onto sprayskirt waistband, (large ring, elastics)
18. try to eat dinner with elbows tucked in ^_^;; and get some rest...

*** in case if I don't even have a tent fly, then split the paddle shaft and secure montana-windbreaker sleeves onto them with elastics.  Then toss them onto either side of cockpit just before I wiggle inside the kayak.

Nuking Chocolate

Very curious that the world seems rather unresponsive to North Korea's recent decision to withdraw from the 6-party talks.  They say that Hiroshima was eerily quiet just before the A-bomb went off; I wonder if that's what we are hearing now.

Still holding onto a wad of cash instead of a house, car, stocks, bonds, or anything that qualifies as assets. Have been thinking about investment in the last few years and I wonder if I shouldn't just invest in Chocolate and other war-time survival items like ... more chocolate. If we get nuked at least I can still make chocolate fondue and be happy.  Even if my "investment" turns out to be a failure I can still munch on the dark substance and be ... happy.

It's not even funny.  I just came back from a 3-days 2-nights kayak-camping trip; I was somewhat tired but not over-the-limit-exhausted, I slept well during the trip: when the sun sets and camp is made, I just dropped into a coma.

Somehow, back to my very comfortable bed, I can't get to sleep.

What's wrong with me?   

Oh well, while the memory is still fresh, I might as well finish my trip-log.

Summary:

Dennis kicked my ass, I was behind him pretty much the whole time, I couldn't even keep course when strong wind or current came at a 90 degree angle (have you ever heard of such thing as a "no go zone" for kayaks?  It's... humiliating.)  All in all, it was an educating, humbling... humiliating experience u_u

That said, I'm proud of myself for finishing it.  I didn't thought I could do it with the glass-fiber kayak, it's too heavy, it leaks, it's too long, it hasn't got a seat ... but I did it anyway.  And I got better and better at controlling it everyday, so that by the third day, I was able to get it going at a decent speed.

Thanks a million to Dennis for being infinitely patient; he kept waiting for me without getting visibly annoyed.  I miserably failed to communicate my inability to control course and as a result, we lost each other around Siu A Chau.  We were both rather nervous about it, because the weather condition was pretty rough; but we were able to discuss it sensibly and still laugh about it.  

Met a few marine-mammals (outriggerers, kayakers, sailors, dragon boaters) on DB when we landed.  Even got a phone number so hopefully, we will get more group kayak activities going on DB.