As part of our fundraising effort, we decided a few months ago that we'd hold a race night, something which Jon's wife Kate did very successfully to raise money for Action Duchenne a couple of years ago. That had been a great night, but could we repeat it?
So we booked the same pub, The Forest Inn in Ashurst (lovely pub at the other quieter end of Ashurst than the two big, more commercial pubs - and they serve Doombar!!! Extra gold stars!), and we booked the Race Night chap, Colin, to come and run the evening.
Ticket sales seemed slow, but Kate kept saying not to worry, and she was absolutely right.
Between Kate, Miche and Becky they drummed up over 60 raffle prizes and two Saints FC items for auction - a chair embroidered with the club crest, and a signed football - which raised £70 between them. Raffle sorted, attendees sorted, all that was left was to hope for a good evening.
Personally, it surpassed my high expectations, it was an excellent evening. We sold almost £400 of raffle tickets on the night and, with ticket sales (£5 pp including a free bet and a raffle ticket), the auction and our share of the takings from the Race Night itself, we raised an extraordinary £910.20!!!!
Thank you to everyone who came along and supported us.
This now brings our official total (see our embedded Just Giving total on the right of this page for the lastest) up to £3,586.20 which is 71% of our £5k total, but with pledges from our employers and others, plus the fact that none of us has asked for sponsorship from our families yet, we are certain to hit our target.
So job done in terms of the fundraising, although we will keep going to as high a total as possible, now we've just got to get ourselves back into training for the Channel crossing.
Starting today, with 20+ miles.....
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Monday, July 23, 2012
ASAP UK help advertise our blog
Courtesty of local signmakers asap we now have our blog name on the side of our kayaks!
The blog has a link to our Just Giving page which means visitors can easily sponsor us too. Thanks asap!
The blog has a link to our Just Giving page which means visitors can easily sponsor us too. Thanks asap!
Friday, July 20, 2012
Authority issues
After dealing with my underwater issues, I needed to catch up with Stu and Jon, who had done a couple of long paddles in the sea kayaks whilst I was learning to sink properly.
So once again we mucked up the tide tables and found ourselves at Marchwood with the water going in the wrong direction, but in reality it never goes very fast until you get into The Solent.
As we got the kayaks ready to leave, the limited room in the car park in Magazine Lane was made even more cramped by the mysterious arrival of a Police car, with a familiar looking copper in it. Jon and I did a double-take and realised it was our mate who told us off for paddling under a pier he was parked on one Sunday afternoon - see Sun Drenched and Copper Tainted. Jon gave him a mild amount of abuse that day, and we wondered whether the chap was going to exact some sort of revenge today.
He pulled right up to Jon's VW Transporter, and got out. He looked at our kayaks. It occurred to me that last time we saw him we were on our sit-ons, but he surely would recognise Jon's distinctive distain towards authority, even if he couldn't remember what he looked like.
He asked us where we were headed and when how long it would take us, and we dutifully detailed our plans for the day. Then he made light and awkward conversation with us before getting back into the panda and reversing out of the car park, and heading off. We thought nothing much more of it after that, other than a few funny moments when Jon was guilty of impersonating a police officer with some mild p**s taking. It wasn't to be our last brush with authority of the dasy.
We paddled out of Magazine Lane and headed to the other bank, and past Town Quay until we got to the corner where The Test meets The Itchen. We rounded the corner, which is a spot where we have twice before experienced washing-machine-like conditions. But it was pretty calm, and we were starting to realise just how stable the sea kayaks are, although they don't steer easily.
As we rounded the corner, and paddled back up The Itchen on our course up to Woodmill, we spotted a large cargo ship which seemed to be floating just off the dock. No ropes, but no bow wave, which told us quite reasonably that it was just bobbing about. Which is unusual for a massive tanker.
We paddled towards it head on, and I started to wonder whether something felt a little bit wrong about this. A big tanker floating untied in The Itchen? Are you sure it isn't moving, I asked Stu. He looked at the bow again, and there was definitely no wave at the front. In fact the boat looked absoletely still. I nervously steered dockside of it, still 30 yards away. "It's definately not moving", said Stu.
These were very nearly famous last words. I took this as permission to paddle across the path of the ship, to join Jon and Stu on the river side.
But the ship was definitely moving. I could tell because it was getting closer much more quickly than I was paddling. And Jon, being further out into the river, had now spotted the tug pushing it from behind.
Stu was by now alongside and very close - he was no more than 10-15 yards away - and I was paddling around the front of it, trying to get on the same line as Stu. A face appeared above the bow, looking out of a gap on the deck, and seemed to be laughing, or perhaps it was bemusement, fear, a sense of impending doom....who knows.
The light waves hit the ship and bounced back, creating a mildly unstable situtation as we passed underneath the side-deck of the boat, we were that close. Jon seemed to be laughing along with the sailors on the deck, who seemed to be enjoying our discomfort.
Note to selves - no bow wave does not necesserily indicate a lack of movement. All the old rules have gone out of the window!
Woodmill
We thought that things couldn't get much more interesting. A strange copper and a killer cargo ship. But then we got pulled over by The Harbour Master, who even had a siren to make sure we knew he wanted us to "stop". He asked us what we thought we were doing back there, and Jon volunteered an explanation. The chap was unable to issue the "mild bollocking" he had planned (his words), probably on the basis that he realised we were genuinely unaware it had been moving, and probably a bit simple.
We headed on up the river, passing under the Itchen bridge, around some not-particularly-picturesque river-side features, such as a big pile of rubbish and some shipwrecks. Then we got to Riverside Park near Midenbury, and saw the Olympic plane taking off from Southampton Airport having dropped the flame back from it's morning in the Channel Islands.
Finally we arrived at Woodmill, rested for a few minutes before heading back against the incoming tide towards Southampton Water.
The journey back was relatively uneventful although the final bit from the corner of the two rivers back to Marchwood was a real slog. But it was a 15 mile kayak and another step towards our goal.
And now we have experience of dodging ships too. All useful experience.
So once again we mucked up the tide tables and found ourselves at Marchwood with the water going in the wrong direction, but in reality it never goes very fast until you get into The Solent.
As we got the kayaks ready to leave, the limited room in the car park in Magazine Lane was made even more cramped by the mysterious arrival of a Police car, with a familiar looking copper in it. Jon and I did a double-take and realised it was our mate who told us off for paddling under a pier he was parked on one Sunday afternoon - see Sun Drenched and Copper Tainted. Jon gave him a mild amount of abuse that day, and we wondered whether the chap was going to exact some sort of revenge today.
He pulled right up to Jon's VW Transporter, and got out. He looked at our kayaks. It occurred to me that last time we saw him we were on our sit-ons, but he surely would recognise Jon's distinctive distain towards authority, even if he couldn't remember what he looked like.
He asked us where we were headed and when how long it would take us, and we dutifully detailed our plans for the day. Then he made light and awkward conversation with us before getting back into the panda and reversing out of the car park, and heading off. We thought nothing much more of it after that, other than a few funny moments when Jon was guilty of impersonating a police officer with some mild p**s taking. It wasn't to be our last brush with authority of the dasy.
We paddled out of Magazine Lane and headed to the other bank, and past Town Quay until we got to the corner where The Test meets The Itchen. We rounded the corner, which is a spot where we have twice before experienced washing-machine-like conditions. But it was pretty calm, and we were starting to realise just how stable the sea kayaks are, although they don't steer easily.
As we rounded the corner, and paddled back up The Itchen on our course up to Woodmill, we spotted a large cargo ship which seemed to be floating just off the dock. No ropes, but no bow wave, which told us quite reasonably that it was just bobbing about. Which is unusual for a massive tanker.
We paddled towards it head on, and I started to wonder whether something felt a little bit wrong about this. A big tanker floating untied in The Itchen? Are you sure it isn't moving, I asked Stu. He looked at the bow again, and there was definitely no wave at the front. In fact the boat looked absoletely still. I nervously steered dockside of it, still 30 yards away. "It's definately not moving", said Stu.
These were very nearly famous last words. I took this as permission to paddle across the path of the ship, to join Jon and Stu on the river side.
But the ship was definitely moving. I could tell because it was getting closer much more quickly than I was paddling. And Jon, being further out into the river, had now spotted the tug pushing it from behind.
Stu was by now alongside and very close - he was no more than 10-15 yards away - and I was paddling around the front of it, trying to get on the same line as Stu. A face appeared above the bow, looking out of a gap on the deck, and seemed to be laughing, or perhaps it was bemusement, fear, a sense of impending doom....who knows.
The light waves hit the ship and bounced back, creating a mildly unstable situtation as we passed underneath the side-deck of the boat, we were that close. Jon seemed to be laughing along with the sailors on the deck, who seemed to be enjoying our discomfort.
Note to selves - no bow wave does not necesserily indicate a lack of movement. All the old rules have gone out of the window!
Arabian Breeze, which we played chicken with (accidentally)
But we laughed about it afterwards, and I felt a sense of relief that Stu's infamous "It's definitely not moving" quote could now overtake my "I'm scared of falling in" effort. I don't think we'll come that close to a cargo ship in The English Channel but, if we do, I think it'll be the last thing we do, and they'll definitely have a bow wave as they will probably be travelling at 40 knots.Woodmill
We thought that things couldn't get much more interesting. A strange copper and a killer cargo ship. But then we got pulled over by The Harbour Master, who even had a siren to make sure we knew he wanted us to "stop". He asked us what we thought we were doing back there, and Jon volunteered an explanation. The chap was unable to issue the "mild bollocking" he had planned (his words), probably on the basis that he realised we were genuinely unaware it had been moving, and probably a bit simple.
We headed on up the river, passing under the Itchen bridge, around some not-particularly-picturesque river-side features, such as a big pile of rubbish and some shipwrecks. Then we got to Riverside Park near Midenbury, and saw the Olympic plane taking off from Southampton Airport having dropped the flame back from it's morning in the Channel Islands.
Finally we arrived at Woodmill, rested for a few minutes before heading back against the incoming tide towards Southampton Water.
The journey back was relatively uneventful although the final bit from the corner of the two rivers back to Marchwood was a real slog. But it was a 15 mile kayak and another step towards our goal.
And now we have experience of dodging ships too. All useful experience.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Underwater in an upturned kayak in the sea
A cross-channel kayak is probably a challenge at the best of times, but I've been facing up to something which makes it even more so....I'm not at all happy being underwater in an upturned kayak in the sea.
This can be a bit of an inpediment to kayaking, especially when you are planning to cross The English Channel, because you are inevitably in constant danger of......being underwater in an upturned kayak in the sea.
Kayaks can be a bit.....tippy.
I have occasionally lost sleep over this fear during the last 18 months, especially since Jon and I got dragged about The Solent by a ferocious tide on the way to the Isle Of Wight (see Abortive Solent Attempt), but I never anticipated it would be much of a problem on a sit-on kayak, because you'd just tumble off, no problem.
But the difference with sea kayaks is that you are inside the body of the boat and you the water is kept out by a tightly elasticated spray-deck. When we took delivery of these a couple of weeks ago and had our first paddle at Calshot, I realised that I wasn't at all comfortable. Jon and Stu were merrily capsizing away and I was just trying to stay upright.
So I thought this through and decided that, given I was signed up to this and desperately wanted to do it, and that it is less than two months away, it was something that needed addressing.
I managed to get myself out onto two short trips last week, both from Marchwood to Eling and back. These were great and I began to feel more confident in the kayak. But still very worried about tipping, so this wasn't really enough.
In the end I contacted Rich Pearsall at New Forest Activities (Liquid Logistics) who agreed to help, and I also booked onto a BCU Level 1 course, because as part of that you've got to be able to capsize and get to the shore. This meant that I was forcing myself to get this issue out of my system.
So tonight I met Rich at Buckler's Hard, and we went for a paddle (this was the coaching session which Rich very kindly agreed to provide gratis, and which Jon/Stu had back in April when I had to pull out at the last minute), during which he gave me various coaching and tips. Before we started I'd fronted up about my mental block, but said that I wanted it sorted before I got out of the water at the end of the session.
We paddled down the Beaulieu River for a bit, I learned how to turn the boat and how to improve my paddling technique. He was very encouraging about our challenge and said that, as long as we had the right weather, then it wouldn't be a massive problem. It might even be as calm as the river we were on tonight, in fact. He also said, reassuringly, that the change of tipping up on The Channel was very limited and probably wouldn't happen at all.
But then the moment came. We arrived back at Buckler's Hard and Rich said it was time for a dip! He talked me through what to do under water and the moment of truth arrived.
Now this all sounds a bit over-dramatic because, in reality, most people should be able to do what is, effectively, not much different to jumping in the water and bobbing to the surface. For some reason I found this far from simple.
I took a deep breath. Then exhaled again. Caught Rich's eye....he was waiting patiently, encouraging without being pushy. I took another deep breath. And then I went. I tipped the thing up and then scrambled for the surface in a barely controlled panic. What I discovered was that getting out of the kayak was no more difficult than my rational mind had expected, and far easier and less death-inducing than my irrational fear had predicted.
I did it another couple of times and, although it's not perfect and needs practice to develop a calmer and more measured approach, it's definitely progress.
Either way, at least this particular monkey is off my back. Being being underwater in an upturned kayak in the sea is less of a problem than it once was.
This can be a bit of an inpediment to kayaking, especially when you are planning to cross The English Channel, because you are inevitably in constant danger of......being underwater in an upturned kayak in the sea.
Kayaks can be a bit.....tippy.
I have occasionally lost sleep over this fear during the last 18 months, especially since Jon and I got dragged about The Solent by a ferocious tide on the way to the Isle Of Wight (see Abortive Solent Attempt), but I never anticipated it would be much of a problem on a sit-on kayak, because you'd just tumble off, no problem.
But the difference with sea kayaks is that you are inside the body of the boat and you the water is kept out by a tightly elasticated spray-deck. When we took delivery of these a couple of weeks ago and had our first paddle at Calshot, I realised that I wasn't at all comfortable. Jon and Stu were merrily capsizing away and I was just trying to stay upright.
So I thought this through and decided that, given I was signed up to this and desperately wanted to do it, and that it is less than two months away, it was something that needed addressing.
I managed to get myself out onto two short trips last week, both from Marchwood to Eling and back. These were great and I began to feel more confident in the kayak. But still very worried about tipping, so this wasn't really enough.
In the end I contacted Rich Pearsall at New Forest Activities (Liquid Logistics) who agreed to help, and I also booked onto a BCU Level 1 course, because as part of that you've got to be able to capsize and get to the shore. This meant that I was forcing myself to get this issue out of my system.
So tonight I met Rich at Buckler's Hard, and we went for a paddle (this was the coaching session which Rich very kindly agreed to provide gratis, and which Jon/Stu had back in April when I had to pull out at the last minute), during which he gave me various coaching and tips. Before we started I'd fronted up about my mental block, but said that I wanted it sorted before I got out of the water at the end of the session.
We paddled down the Beaulieu River for a bit, I learned how to turn the boat and how to improve my paddling technique. He was very encouraging about our challenge and said that, as long as we had the right weather, then it wouldn't be a massive problem. It might even be as calm as the river we were on tonight, in fact. He also said, reassuringly, that the change of tipping up on The Channel was very limited and probably wouldn't happen at all.
But then the moment came. We arrived back at Buckler's Hard and Rich said it was time for a dip! He talked me through what to do under water and the moment of truth arrived.
Now this all sounds a bit over-dramatic because, in reality, most people should be able to do what is, effectively, not much different to jumping in the water and bobbing to the surface. For some reason I found this far from simple.
I took a deep breath. Then exhaled again. Caught Rich's eye....he was waiting patiently, encouraging without being pushy. I took another deep breath. And then I went. I tipped the thing up and then scrambled for the surface in a barely controlled panic. What I discovered was that getting out of the kayak was no more difficult than my rational mind had expected, and far easier and less death-inducing than my irrational fear had predicted.
I did it another couple of times and, although it's not perfect and needs practice to develop a calmer and more measured approach, it's definitely progress.
Either way, at least this particular monkey is off my back. Being being underwater in an upturned kayak in the sea is less of a problem than it once was.
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