Dragon Run, From the Back!
I was thinking, “how do I end up in these f%*&#$g situations”. Totally stressed, and looking to abort. Problem; paddling to shore, with tail between legs, was just as difficult, if not more so, than carrying on. Then I remembered the book I was currently reading. It told me how personal growth only occurs while operating outside of my “comfort zone”. Well, I figured I should be about as tall as Oscar by the time I finished the Dragon Run, Hong Kong’s inaugural World Cup Surfski Race.
It all started haphazardly enough. I was going to the factory near Shanghai to work on a couple of Think projects, and then down to Hong Kong to work with Andrew Dove, the owner of SmartTrack. At the time it seemed like a brilliant idea to coincide my trip with the Dragon Run. This left me five weeks to prep, so I figured I could be in the best shape of my-second-half-of-2007 if I put my mind to it. The first week went great, paddling about 100 KM. Then my shocked body collapsed (Note to self; increase respect for Jim, Shane, etc). Okay, plan B; just paddle a couple times a week, like usual, and wing it.
The trip went well, getting lots done at the Think factory, and sending four Evo’s down to Hong Kong for myself and others to race in. After a week in the Shanghai area I hopped a two-hour flight down to Hong Kong where Andrew picked me up at the airport. For those who have not been there before (it was my first trip), Hong Kong is spectacular. Seven million people inhabit this group of Islands interconnected by bridges and ferries. Causeway Bay, the downtown area, is possibly the most urban experience I have ever encountered.
In contrast, the amount of rugged coastline and ocean swell charging through is almost limitless. Andrew toured me around many parts of the islands, and from up high, and in the bays, everything looked quite manageable. No sign of killer shore breaks, and no signs saying “Shark Sighting”. I was feeling pretty good about things.
Then came the safety briefing… Basically they covered all the ways in which I could get smashed on the rocks, run over by unmanned fishing boats (should have called Mike for pointers), or paddle off to the wrong island if not careful. Oh yes, and they repeatedly reminded us to stay waaaay off shore so as to not get sucked into the rocks, which is where the ocean will send us if not always alert. So much for feeling good about things.
Next day was a chance to go out for a warm-up paddle on the local waters. There was rumour that a group paddle was going out to run the last third of the course at 10 AM, so Andrew got me organized and to the put-in on time. My usual paddling buddies turned up; Dawid, Lewis, Oscar, Dean, and some other guys two times my size. After sizing up the party, I decided I did not want to reveal my race lines to my competition, so decided to go it alone. Dawid asked if I knew where I was headed, and said, just keep the Island on your right.
As I headed off solo, on the “easy” part of the course, I got my first taste of the swell. Not huge, maybe five feet on the beam, with a 10 knot beam breeze. This is totally unfamiliar to me, so I was not relaxed, and it didn’t help being alone. An equally strong swell was coming back off the rocky bluff adding to the discomfort. After a few KM of this I reached the end of the bay and rounded the point, turning with wind and the waves. Woowhoo! Now the fun began, with the swell at my back the stress disappeared. In the distance windsurfers could be seen ripping in and out of the next bay, and small fishing craft dotted the coast. A couple more KM, and another turn into the lee of the Island. Now just a 5 KM flatwater paddle to the finish.
This is where I met Brian Boatman, just out for a little cruise, taking pictures of the cool high rises built into the mountains. It turns out Brian was there completely by chance. If I got this right, Brian’s wife’s sister has a connection there, and they were all there for a family holiday. It was great to see a familiar face on the water so far from home, and Brian paddled with me into the finish. Brian was sandbagging as usual, so I knew he was going to do well.
Race Day! After paddling the final part of the course the day before, and not feeling totally incompetent, I thought, “how much harder can it be?” Billy Harker was there from South Africa, acting as race director. He was very serious about safety, and reviewed all the things that can go wrong. He also covered our exit strategy should we find it too much. Suddenly it was time to go. We had a ten minutes to start, then a 30 seconds to start, then about 10 seconds later, GO!
The top seven or eight guys immediately gapped the field by 200 metres. No wash riding, as it was already too wavy for this. It was like watching a Sprint race in a washing machine. Those guys are so fast! Anyway, enough about them. I was headed for the first turn about 3.5 KM out, at the Fenn Hotspot. It was reflection wave chaos. Stroke, stroke, brace. Repeat.
I was almost at the Hotspot, and then suddenly there was a small boat buzzing me, frantically waving and yelling. S#&t! A sixty-foot junk was coming at me right at 90 degrees. I had seen it earlier, but thought that it was stationary. Wrong! It had eight arms hanging over it’s sides, like a giant floating mechanical spider, and from the arms, trailing down into the water, were thick ropes dragging its web like fishing nets behind it. I could see the headlines. “Dragon Run scrapped, as surfski fouls fishing nets”, (no mention of missing paddler, of course).
I scooted past the nets with a few meters to spare, so no worries, and my heart rate was returning to sub 200. Now it was time to turn downwind and run with the waves. Wrong again! For me it was a nerve-wracking sloppy mess. Stroke, stroke, brace, and so on. My average speed stayed around 10 – 12 KM per hour, but this was more from the wind at my back than any paddling I was doing. True to the oceans desires, whenever I looked up, I found I was getting sucked into towards the rocks. I had been about mid-pack at the Hotspot, but people would appear off to my side, and then slowly disappear in the distance ahead. It was the most difficult water I had ever paddled a ski in by far. I really did consider abandoning the race several times, but that seemed freakier than the mixed up mess of water that was stressing me out!
Eventually I got to the place I had paddled the day before in my warm-up. Here the waves aligned, and the slop disappeared. I felt like I could finally paddle and chase some waves. What a relief! I quickly passed all those who had crept past me in the zone-of high-stress, and made for the point that would take us into the lee of the island. Here the water flattened, and became a sidewind/upwind slog. This was a familiar pleasure, and I passed a few more on the home stretch.
The post race festivities were fantastic, with amazing burgers, and plenty of beers to cool down with and review the day (race temp was about 24 Celsius). I was struck by the fact that most people were unaffected by the sloppiness of the water, and had wished for more wind to push them down the course. I asked Dawid after the race to compare this course to others for me, so I could have some perspective. He said it was easier than Molokai, about on par with the US Surfski champs from a couple years back. He said he was catching runs going all different directions, and really didn’t get flying until it sorted itself out on the last downwind leg.
The organizers, Renee and Andy, did an amazing job. The course, the safety, the party, was all world class, and I really hope to go back again someday, after some much needed practise in rough water. Special thanks to Andrew from Smartrack for looking after me.
Paddle your best,
Daryl
