It all started well enough . On The ride up from Greatham with a mate who'd never canoed before we'd been treated to the sight of sand martins, an Egyptian Goose at close quarters and found time to examine and photogragh pristine mink tracks that could only have been left moments before our our arrival.
The only thing spoiling the trip was a typical tricky Arun breeze. Things became a little interesting when my friend decided that he'd like ago at paddling from the back and steering . Things became even more interesting when the typical Arun breeze turned a little nasty . This was the point that I broke my paddle .
I'll come clean . I did'nt have a spare . Did'nt think we'd need one . Starting off with a paddle apiece I thought that if a blade broke we'd limp back without any trouble . I'd sit in the back with the surviving paddle and my mate could recline up front and trail his fingers in the water like a Byronic heroine .
I reckoned without the wall of wind that met us when ,following brief respite for hot chocolate and Kit Kats at the White Hart at Stopham ,we headed back down with the ebbing tide .
By shifting all the weight to the front we made some headway but the Pumping Station section was particuarly heavy-going. Suddenly we spotted something in the reeds . It would have been too much to expect to have found a wayward or disgarded paddle but we did claim salvage rights on a fine Wolf Tool's broom . With this in my enthusiastic friend's hand our rate of progress increased dramatically if somewhat surprisingly . I actually think he did better with the broom than with a paddle .
Anyway ,we trickled under Greatham Bridge with just enough water to spare and hauled ourselves and the boat up the muddy bank to finish one of those days that will definatly stick in the memory .My mate (pictured with a slim mystery red-head ) is even keen enough to come again.
ain.
Of course I will carry,if not a spare paddle ,at last one broom in future. In the meantime I'll be brushing-up on the sweep-strokes .
"Er .Sorry. I'll get my coat ".
The only thing spoiling the trip was a typical tricky Arun breeze. Things became a little interesting when my friend decided that he'd like ago at paddling from the back and steering . Things became even more interesting when the typical Arun breeze turned a little nasty . This was the point that I broke my paddle .
I'll come clean . I did'nt have a spare . Did'nt think we'd need one . Starting off with a paddle apiece I thought that if a blade broke we'd limp back without any trouble . I'd sit in the back with the surviving paddle and my mate could recline up front and trail his fingers in the water like a Byronic heroine .
I reckoned without the wall of wind that met us when ,following brief respite for hot chocolate and Kit Kats at the White Hart at Stopham ,we headed back down with the ebbing tide .
By shifting all the weight to the front we made some headway but the Pumping Station section was particuarly heavy-going. Suddenly we spotted something in the reeds . It would have been too much to expect to have found a wayward or disgarded paddle but we did claim salvage rights on a fine Wolf Tool's broom . With this in my enthusiastic friend's hand our rate of progress increased dramatically if somewhat surprisingly . I actually think he did better with the broom than with a paddle .
Anyway ,we trickled under Greatham Bridge with just enough water to spare and hauled ourselves and the boat up the muddy bank to finish one of those days that will definatly stick in the memory .My mate (pictured with a slim mystery red-head ) is even keen enough to come again.
Of course I will carry,if not a spare paddle ,at last one broom in future. In the meantime I'll be brushing-up on the sweep-strokes .
"Er .Sorry. I'll get my coat ".
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