We're at the start line again. PD chicks together as one for an almighty double hull race. A bit stiff from yesterday, but felling good. We're at the start line, focussing on keeping in time, setting our rate, and having our race.
And then a spinner dolphin leaps in front of us. A forward double pike with a triple twist. Olympic gold. We're no longer focussing. We're giggling and laughing and cheering on the antics. A more sedate pod crests the waves next to our canoe. There is no race, just dolphins.
Luckily we were out there early (really? I know, writing this, I can't believe it either).
We eventually remember that we're out there to race, and manoeuvre into the start line; more gracefully than what you'd expect of two hulls strapped together with 4x2s.
We're off! Big strokes, long strokes, deep water. We have a good start, but not the best - a few crews are ahead of us and we have some work to do. Whoosh. Keeping in time. Whoosh. A steady PD's rate. We're keeping out cool. Pulling in a couple of canoes that are frantically trying to keep ahead of us. Whoosh. As one, we're pulling ahead into open water. Yeah!
We make it to the buoy first, and free of any other canoe. Whoosh. We scoot around quickly and head to the next one. Whoosh. Round we go again. Working hard. Reaching out even further. Taking it home.
We're about a kilometre from the finish line. The pod of dolphins we cheered on earlier have come out to cheer us! They gracefully lead us towards the beach and surf our wash. There couldn't be a better PD moment.
We cross the line, together, in first place. Women double hull champions. Congratulations PDs.
It’s dark when we head outside to rig the
canoes. I can’t see the nervousness and excitement on everyone’s faces, but I
can feel it. The pier is buzzing with
paddlers. Rigging, bailing, setting up drinking systems. A last hug. Hands held
for the pune. The mist rises over Mauna Kea; I hope the weather gods are kind
to us today.
Amanda carefully rolls away the green cover
protecting our canoe. Annett attaches the spare blades and finds a spot for the
bailers. Our partner crew, the men from Puna Canoe Club, come alongside
protectively to look after their club’s first Koa canoe, carved in 1978 by Rev.
John Hauanio.
The sun rises over the horizon and together
we hoistAli’I Kai onto our shoulders
and carefully maneuver her along the pier, down the ramp and into the warm
water. This is real canoe respect.
Alli'i Kai enters the waters of Kailua Bay, Kona, for the start of the Queen Lili'uokalani Race 2015
We’re in. Shuffling about to get
comfortable. My toes grip the wax on the wooden floor. Plenty of time to relax,
feel the water and how the canoe reacts.More and more crews come out to meet us. The clouds remain, providing a
barrier against the heat. We grab a few photos of us and the crews around us. A
drone buzzes unnaturally overhead.
Early morning race start, Kailua Bay, Kona
There are 123 women’s canoes racing this
morning. It’s awesome. We can’t see the other end of the start line. Jetski’s
parade in front, trying to hold the line. Luckily we can see the flags. Yellow,
red, green… digging deep we build up our start. And keep going. Ali’I Kai moves
gracefully, pulling ahead of the crews around us. Amanda is urging us on. Yeahhh!
Let’s race.
Drone’s eye view of the race start
The coastline sweeps alongside us as we
head south, and we sense the green slopes and volcanic edges, but we don’t get
much chance to appreciate the details of the scenery. We’re feeling for a
steady rhythm. Looking for the odd bump, but there’s not much out there.We’re on the leeward side of the island,
protected from the trades and the swell, so it’s solely up to us today to get
us to the finish line at Honaunau Bay, 18mi away.
Queen Lili'uokalani race course 2015
It’s hot. 32 deg C and we’re all thankful
for a few clouds. We keep cool by splashing each other every 10min, and I’m so
grateful every time Nic sends a cascade of water over my back.There’s a point we’re aiming for in the
distance. It creeps towards us. The crew feels strong. We’ve worked out Ali’I
Kai’s sweet spot and keep her ticking over at a steady rate. It’s a great
feeling.
Not many boats are ahead of us and we can
still see the lead cruiser with the yellow flag.We can hear the unlimited canoes coming up
behind us. Amanda negotiates the wash around a final headland and we turn into
Honaunau Bay.
Ali'i Kai in the turquoise water of Honaunau Bay
We’re greeted by a shoreline of beautiful
palms, and lush tropical trees on a volcanic shoreline. What a wonderful place
to finish! The water is a beautiful turquoise colour, and I immediately jump
out to have a cooling swim; grabbing a passionfruit that floats past.
An epic, but very special race. Great work
PDs; Mahalo Ali’I Kai for staying true, Puna Canoe Club for trusting us with
this special canoe, and Kai’Opua Canoe Club for hosting the event.
At Honaunau Bay - Nic, Jas, Kath, Amanda, Annett & Shell
We hear over the loudspeaker that we’ve
come 21st across the line, out of the 123 crews that started from Kailua Bay, Kona. We find out later that we were the 7th Open
Women finisher (out of 54) and first in the Open Women’s Koa Class!
Men's turn to race back
But now, it’s time for the men to race back
to Kailua Bay, and for us to find the other PDs crew, rest and celebrate.
We watch the men in the distance, as we hitch a ride together in the back of a pick-up back to Kona, finishing the race together
2:23:23
– 21st Overall, 7th Open Women Division; 1st
Open Women Koa Class
Pacific
Dragons Black: Jess Ng, Lisa Hennessy, Kayleene
Eagles,Cath Gale, Charlotte Richards,
Kerry Davenport 2:40:04
– 73rd Overall, 28th Open Women Division For more about our trip, follow this link. For more pictures, visit the Gallery
Groggily, I flicked up the cover on the
window portal beside me. Harsh sun-light beamed across the aisle; seeming very
unnatural for a 3am equivalent Sydney time. Miles of textured blue ocean lay
beneath, then the site of the coastline came into view. Hawaii!
I jumped in a shuttle bus and we hurtled south
along the slick highway, amongst the dark moonscape of Big Island’s west coast.
The volcano was shrouded in dark clouds. “You know, this island is the only
island that creates it’s own energy. Do you feel it?”, the cabbie asked. On cue,
a large rumble descended the mountainside.
I definitely felt excited. It was the start
of our Hawaiian journey!
But our journey actually started several
months ago, when we met at the AB Hotel to discuss all the possibilities for a
paddling trip to Hawaii. A paddling festival, week long OC1 camp, changes race,
channel crossing… all these ideas were raised and, not being able to choose,
we’ve ended planning to do all of them.
North Head OC1 session
We’ve come a long way since that first
discussion. A few special moments stick in my mind - Tuesday night 2hr sessions
have become the norm; something that Cath G pointed out as we tapered with a
leisurely 70min session last week.
3hr Harbour changes session
I remember paddling upwind alongside the
airport, on one of our “downwind” sessions, with 14 OC1 embracing the
challenge. There was the Harbour Tempest OC6 session, where we saw Geoff’s
Men’s crew rise 4m up on the wave ahead of us, before he thankfully decided to
turn and run into Quarantine station.
Some good swell off Shelly Beach
A smattering of yellow lifejackets moving
in and out of the swell at Bluefish Point. Amanda grinning in her happy yellow
canoe. Charlotte’s giggle as she slides down a wave at LR on her OC1. Dolphins
jumping across the bow near La Perouse.
PD Men join us for their Molokai training
Cold mornings, frozen toes & tough interval sessions with the boys. The best scrambled eggs in Sydney at the Belgium Cafe in Clontarf.
We're ready!
The shuttle bus door slides open, breaking
my daydream and I hear, “Shelly!” coming from outside. Kath B bounds out of the
hotel, all smiles, whisking me away to merchandise, breakfast supplies and a
relieving dip in the ocean.
Kerry and Amanda meet us in the corridor
and recount tales of their 2nd place in the OC4 sprints – a
compulsory huli, missing paddles, missing paddlers and an almighty sprint to
the finish to bring in a medal.
And then I hear the next surprise; we’ve
been given the privilege of paddling a local crew’s Koa Canoe tomorrow (Puna Canoe Club). This is
a canoe that has been hand carved from the wood of the native Hawaiian Koa
tree. The wood glows a beautiful golden colour,
that seems to come from the inside of the craft. It’s an incredible honour to be given this
opportunity, (we are the first international crew to be loaned this boat, which was built in 1978), and
it will add a special dimension to the race tomorrow. For more about our trip, follow this link. For more pictures, visit the Gallery
A changes race is a unique experience, and sometimes difficult to explain to others who don't paddle. It's a true team event, with everyone putting in their max effort, before jumping out of the canoe and resting...then having to get back in again.
To explain the phenomena a bit better, here's what I love about changes racing:
The Start. Canoes looking for the start flags and positioning for the best start. Support boats jostling nearby, on the lookout for their crews. And for the Molokai race, a fleet of official boats marked with pink flags to hold back the support boats, and guide the flotilla as it makes its way to Oahu
The start
The drop off. Time for the first change. Like a parachuter launching out of an aircraft on a mission, you grab your hat, pinch your nose, and leap into the ocean.
The drop off
Spotting the canoe and lining up with your team mates as anticipation builds
Lining up the canoe with your team mates
Watching the canoe disappear behind a massive swell
Seeing the canoe disappear (and just your lone hand sticking up, hoping the steerer will spot you)
Seeing the canoe re-emerge, hurtling down the slope of a wave, heading straight at you. Manu raised.
Canoe re-emerges...on top of you
Getting in. All different techniques - it doesn't matter what you use. Leg hook-over, head first, elegant side sit (the textbook method). I especially like it when the steerer gets in!
Getting in
Getting in again!
Paddling hard
Paddling hard
Paddling hard
Being in the ocean
And surfing!
And surfing!
More surfing!
Getting out. Your section done and time to hand over to a fresher team mate.
Getting out
Bobbing in the ocean, then looking for the buoy that will help lead you to the support boat, also bobbing in the ocean
Buoy to the support boat
Hanging out with friends on the support boat
Hanging out with friends
Eugene reapplying sunscreen for you (so you don't make your hands slippery and hard to hold the paddle), finding you some food, and grabbing you a gatorade from the ice box
Eugene and Dexter - support boat legends
Reaching Diamond Head
Almost there
Nailing your last change of the day. YEAH!
Last change!
Willing on your team mates during a sprint to the finish
Your support boat crew, who kept you safe along the crossing
It's taken me a couple of days to recover and bring the blog up to speed with the most important day of all...race day!
We were up well before dawn after a restless night's sleep for most. Dry bags packed, shove some food down, then pile into an old yellow school bus for our ride by darkness down the red dirt road to the harbour.
We joined North Shore Outriggers on the bus, who were far more lively than we were. I think a few nerves kept us quiet as we contemplated the day ahead.
The bus journey was not without mishap - about half way down the rutted road we began to smell burning brake pads. Sure enough, 5min later we were stopped on the side of the road, bags and paddles in a pile. Broken down. Luckily there was a steady stream of cars passing, and plenty of offers for a ride. We took a moment to capture a team shot, then boarded another yellow bus.
Broken bus - not the best thing for race morning!
No opportunity wasted!
Phew. We'd made it to the harbour. We made a few final adjustments to the canoe, then were called to the gathering and prayer. A Hawaiian voice rang clear through the dawn light, as we stood, arms around each other, thankful that we were here, and wishing each other a safe journey. A few emotions were released, then it was on to the race.
Out to the start line, me, Nicola, Amanda, Kath, Cath, and Linda lined up with the other 70 crews racing today. It was exciting to be out there, looking for the starting flags and watching the support boats lined up behind the pink flags of the official boats holding them at bay.
The race started! The line of canoes surged forwards. We were right up there, working with some small pushes, following the line of Molokai towards Laau Point.
What an awesome race! Not to spoil the moment, I'll let Linda take it from here!
And after a short technical glitch...we continue:
The other person that was critical to our crossing was Eugene Lee, our calm support boat helper whose happy face always greeted us as we flopped, bedraggled from the water onto the support boat, needing sunscreen, sea sickness tablets, food, water, Gatorade. He kept us going, made sure we were ready to go, and kept things moving smoothly. Thanks Euge!!
Check out: https://picasaweb.google.com/SeeShell7/130913HawaiiMolokaiCrossing
for a full set of race photos
We're off to Molokai! Nic and I headed out on our one way flight this morning, with the remaining Chicks following this afternoon:
It's an incredible feeling to know you're flying over the stretch of water you're about to paddle. We flew past the towering hotel blocks along Waikiki then looked straight down into the crater of Diamond Head. Nic and I gave each other a nervous and excited look as we followed the coast up to Koko Crater then looked out over the open waters of the Kaiwi Channel.
The trades are blowing, whipping up whitecaps on the ocean's surface. Keep blowing! I can't wait to have the wind at our backs on Sunday.
