Amazingly the wind dropped.

Tour de Rozel, Jersey, Channel Islands.

We left St Catherine's in the NE of Jersey with the wind gusting to force 7 but it was veering rapidly from NE to SE. The water rounding Le Coupe Point was quite rough but once round we had calm seas and were shelteed from the winds all the way to Greve de Lecq. Amazingly Jersey canoe club had managed to lay on another great day despite the winds.

The last day barbecue was held in torrential rains and the local roads were like red rivers. The soil from the recently lifted potato fields was carried towards the sea.

Sunshine and shade on Jersey

Midday sun at Greve de Lecq, Jersey, Channel Islands


We lost count of the huge caves to the east of the cove.

Corbiere lighthouse, Jersey

Despite strong NE winds Jersey canoe club laid on a superb days sea kayaking on the first day of the symposium.


Corbiere lighthouse on the sheltered SW side of the island was one of the destinations.



24/05/2008

Little Greve de Lecq, Jersey

The 9th Jersey Sea Kayak symposium starts tomorrow. It is hosted by the Jersey canoe club.


Jersey has a stunning coastline. This beach can only be reached by boat or by some serious coasteering involving climbing, swimming and caving!



23/05/2008

Sweet dreams are made of this.

"Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?
Travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something"
Eurthymics

Imagine the crackle of the fire over the distant low murmur of the Grey Dogs tidal race. The aromatic smell of well seasoned driftwood mingles with the peaty aroma of a Jura malt whisky. In the distance the embers of the dying sun linger behind distant Ben More on Mull. Slowly darkness encroaches and the cobbles on the beach are lit with the flickering light of the fire. Tales of great seakayaking voyages are exchanged in hushed tones until tiredness brings on silent contemplation.

Sea kayaking dreams are made of this and we found and lived them on Scarba.

The Dog's Bollocks

Tony prepares the balls!


Then he tossed them into the slavering jowls of the Grey Dogs tidal race....


and they promptly disappeared over the horizon into the sunset.

A camp by the Dogs.

After unloading the kayaks...


We set up camp and climbed the hill behind the beach where we glimpsed tomorrows destination, the Garvellachs on the horizon.



Looking the other way we caught sight of the Grey Dogs tidal race on full flood. That standing wave is about eight feet high.


The tide fair rips through the gap at over 22km/hr.