Imagine getting up one morning a little earlier than usual and while still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you take your ocean kayak down to the creek bed where three or four large fish are waiting to greet you at the waters edge. This greeting nudges you gently out of your half slumber, at which time you realise just how peaceful the morning is. There is barely a ripple on the creek surface, the only movement is caused but the outgoing tide. There is no wind, the absence of its rushing leaves you with a sense of quiet, of inner peace. This feeling is so strong that as you start paddling, you unconsciously attempt to minimise your splash when your paddle enters the water, hoping to avoid being the one who breaks the peace.
This is the way I started my day. I woke up just before dawn so I could go for a ski paddle before I started the day. It was a little bit difficult getting out of bed, but in retrospect this was easily the best decision I have made all week.
This Is What I Want For My Ski Sessions
Its funny, usually I paddle this creek either at lunch time or early evening, this is the first time I have paddled it at first light. What a magical time it is to be out in nature. All I can think of now is getting one of those GoPro Surf Cameras so I can record everything that is going on on the river during these paddles. Today was one of those days too where I could see the rewards of committing to this great race, rewards over and above the sense of achievement of crossing the finishing line on the day. Today I can see that the journey itself is its own reward. Let me try and describe my paddle this morning.
I have often fished from my regular launching “beach” (it is really a mud pile in the middle of the mangroves) on the Tallebudgera Creek. I have spent many fruitless hours here with a line, hook, squidgee or bait, always in the afternoon or early evening. I have only ever caught tiny, annoying toad fish and undersized bream. So to be welcomed this morning by a number of fish in excess of 30cms in length to me was astonishing. I thought they all inhabited different parts of the river. So now I know when I have to go out and drop a line in.
As I started paddling toward the ocean, the fish all along the creek were super active. They were jumping out of the water everywhere. Stingrays abounded and the birds too were everywhere. They were sitting on branches, watching me or taking to flight as I passed. It seems like the rest of the world is active while humanity sleeps. Here are a couple of special moments of note:
- At one stage, while paddling at the bend where the creek turns and heads straight at the ocean, two of those white headed raptors where engaged in a battle with another large bird, directly over my head. One of the clashes left feathers flying
- At the same spot, there is a large sand bank is on the southern side of the creek. As the tide dropped, thousands of spider crabs with the big shells moved up this bank towards the cover. It was as if entire sections of the beach were moving. I actually stopped for a moment to have fun chasing them.
- On the home stretch, in the popular fishing spot at my first bend, a large bird of prey did a long, gliding loop with something in its claws. It took a while to see what it was, but it was a fish it had just caught. The way this bird wheeled at my and looped away, it was clearly out-manning me, boasting and showing me it was a superior fisher.
Seeing nature perform as it did today was an absolute pleasure. It is such an encouragement to get out in the mornings and get into the water.
Back to my paddling though, I wore my heart rate monitor again today as I was heading out to the ocean. I have trouble getting my heart rate up in flat water paddling, so I wanted to see what it was like when waves got involved. Details are:
- Time Paddling: 1:33:71
- Max Heart Rate: 209
- Average Heart Rate: 130
The 209 max heart rate was achieved when surfing at Palm Beach/Currumbin area. I was paddling back out into the ocean when two particularly large (for me anyway 
) waves came through – they were both about 3′ by the surfing measurement. They both started breaking just as I hit them. Seeing them coming, I really dug in to try to get out over them before they hit, just getting to them as they started to pitch. They were bigger than any waves I’ve paddled into in my my short surf ski career. The first hit me right in the chest, throwing my body backwards so hard I hit the ski. I managed to maintain my balance though and got the paddle into the water to get some momentum before the next hit. When it did, I leaned forward into the wave and speared my paddle, attempting to punch right through it. It worked really well, I punched right through and kept going.
There were a number of factors here I think which combined to achieve the massive heart rate spike. Firstly, there was the immediate, reactive increase in effort as I rated my strokes up, trying to get over the waves before they hit. Then there was clearly the adrenaline rush as “man vs. nature” style, I had to fast and furious, race and punch through these waves which were trying to obliterate me. Being hit so hard by the waves actually pushed my heart rate monitor around my waste. So it didn’t record everything. Who knows, it may have gotten higher reading than 209.
So really, does life get any better than this? I received my blessings from nature, surfed a few waves and enjoyed the thrill and excitement of facing something bigger and scarier than I have before and coming out the other side, pumped, a better paddler and more experienced for it.
