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A Kayaker's Week in Wales, September 18-26, 2015


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A Kayaker’s Week in Wales

September 18-26, 2015

(Note to the reader: Click on the thumbnail photos to get a full screen rendering if you like.)

On a beautiful Welsh Friday afternoon – sun and breeze – nine of us (eight of whom are paddlers) converged from Massachusetts, New Hampshire, California, Canada and Poland to join John and Marybeth Carmody at Porthiddy Farm, a pleasing jumble of attached farm buildings converted into homey cottages, for a week of paddling bits of the stunning Pembrokeshire coastline. For a number of us, the voyage had included driving – on the wrong side of the road, when there was a side of the road to actually choose – on increasingly narrower roads and lanes, until the final approach to our destination on a one-lane track bordered on each side by plant-covered stone fences high enough that we might as well have been driving through a tunnel.

Beyond the stone fences were stunning yet peaceful open vistas of bright green pastureland dotted with sheep. Over the next days the tune of the Bach cantata, “Sheep May Safely Graze,” with which I was familiar from restless Sundays sitting through services at the Episcopal church I attended as a child, played repeatedly in my head. It seemed that no harm could come to any creature on such verdant land.

Contrast this with the sea at the bottom of the dramatic stone cliffs at which, fenceless, all those pastures ended. Over the next week, we would attempt to understand the forces that make this paddling destination such a challenging one. A dynamic environment as John and Nige Robinson, our local co-host on the water, called it.

This trip had been conceived a year ago, advertised as an opportunity for John and Nige to introduce paddlers to the area without a specific training focus. All of the previous groups had participated in formal BCU 4-5 star training in their time on the water. This had led some of us to dub the trip “Wales for Weenies and Wusses.” Wrong. Wrong. Wrong! While there is indeed much on-the-water sightseeing to do (cliffs, caves, sea mammals…), the sea itself defines the experience, and while those sheep may have been safely and peacefully grazing above, we kayakers below were trying to acclimate ourselves to currents (“tides” as they call it), tide races and swells the likes of which, I -for one - had never experienced on such a consistent and dramatic basis. And that doesn’t even take into account the “B” word place, which those of you who have been here know, and which I will get to presently…

Day One – Aberreidy to Porthgain

Our first task under overcast skies was to get boats sorted out in Nige’s backyard, a few miles down the road from where we were staying.


We would be joined by Ben, another local guide and coach, for our first day’s paddle as Nige was off watching Wales play in the Rugby World Cup, which was happening in Wales throughout the week.

Our first day’s paddle, a short one, would be a one way trip from the stone cobble beach at Aberreidy, down a steep lane from where we were staying, to Porthgain, a small hamlet tucked behind a curled sea wall (an image of which many of you have seen if you have ever sat at John and Marybeth’s table for a meal or a trip-planning session) only a few kilometers to the east.

We prepared to launch, thankfully on a day when there was no surf to speak of.


We encouraged David to remember to bring his boat along for the journey.


Over the course of the week, we wouldn’t encounter many other paddlers on the water, but on this day, we got a reminder that they start them young here, and that’s why Welsh 5 star paddlers are a lot younger than the ones that I know!


Because it was a calm start to the day, we were free to gawk at the rock formations that would continue to awe us the rest of the week. This was the first of many holes-in-the-rock that we would see.


We turned right, heading toward the Blue Lagoon,


where young lads showed off at our encouragement.


Not realizing that there would be a million more to come, we were all enthralled by our first sea cave, and none of us wanted to leave.


We took turns going in, craning our necks upward, and noting that it was a lot bigger once one was inside than it seemed from the outside.


I think John caught on early to the reality that the group would never get anywhere if I were allowed to continue snapping photographs indiscriminately, as I had been, so he “offered” to take my camera from me, on the pretext of allowing me to have some images to prove that I’d been there. Here I am – green helmet and purple Romany Surf – trying hard not to feel that I was all dressed up for Easter!


Then there was another cave…


and two more!


Heading in…


and looking out.


We continued on, Ben and Jane conferring about our route.


We had seen these rocky muffins – Cerrig Gwylan – in the distance before


but now we headed directly for them.


On their more exposed north and western sides, there was time for rock play. Bob Levine is in the Cetus. Tomas from Poland in a red plastic boat that allowed him to be as wild and crazy as he wanted!

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But it was time for lunch, and we headed back toward the mainland.


Bob struck what would become a characteristic pose, peering down at his chart, trying to wrap his mind around this unfamiliar environment.


It was a bit of a surf landing for lunch. Some came right in,


others had a bit of a play before landing.

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David guarding the beach.


John set us all a task after lunch. Find your own spot of beach, and answer the following two questions about this first brief exposure to paddling in Wales: 1) What didn’t you expect? and 2) What did you most enjoy? John then gathered the group and we went from one spot to the next, talking about each person’s answers.


Mine were not terribly original as it (not the least bit surprisingly) turned out:


While from our position at the bottom of cliffs we felt as though we had the world to ourselves, it was not uncommon to see tiny figures high above, walking the coast path that follows the same cliffs that we were paddling. Here are a couple of people, giving a sense of the scale we were dealing with.


In those cliffs, caves everywhere…


We headed back out to Cerrig Gwylan to see if it was any different than it had been before lunch. That John had donned a helmet for the first time provided a clue that it quite likely was.


It was definitely sportier as we approached…


and headed toward the outside.


And this is where a trip report – at least my trip report – can’t do justice to the trip. You reach a point where staying upright, holding a paddle, maintaining a straight course, and keeping your wits about you is not compatible with holding a camera steady and taking pictures of everything that’s happening. Suffice it to say that we had several very bouncy trips around the outer rocky island before we headed on toward Porthgain.

This was another photo-less stretch, riding swells and waves stacked up by wind against current. As the elevator rode us up and down, I understood for the first time how some people with tender stomachs get seasick! Fortunately, there were no tender stomachs in our group and we all enjoyed the illusion of flying along as we coasted down waves, when in fact we were going quite slowly against the ebbing tide.


And then, the right turn into Porthgain…

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All in all, a bloody good day!


(OK, it was just Barb losing a battle with one of those wicked sharp P&H skeg sliders and then wiping her face…)

While we had planned to have a home-cooked group meal that night, no one remembered that the grocery store in St. David’s closed early on Sunday, so off we went to The Sloop, a pub in Porthgain, for beer, fish and chips, and various other dinner delights.

Day Two – Porthclais to Ramsey Island and the B-b-b-Bitches

That B word? The one with the reputation? So soon??! I don’t think any of us had thought we would find ourselves at the Bitches on our second day, but the winds and tides forecast for the week would make our decisions for us, and Nige saw a window of opportunity with a forecast of slight to moderate sea state and NW winds 4-5 (Beaufort scale) with favorable tide times.

The Bitches? you ask. Brief answer: a tide race and rocks off of Ramsey Island, less than a mile from the coast. For those who are unfamiliar… go to YouTube and look at some videos.

We launched at Porthclais, a narrow little harbor


with dramatic slabs of stripy rock where the inlet meets the sea.


Anna conferred with Nige before embarking.


The group headed out,


and went through a slot in the blue green water.


While of course I wanted to lollygag taking pictures, Nige “encouraged” me to speed it up, not the least because the crossing from the mainland to Ramsey is an actual ship channel.

David approached Ramsey,


and when we were all there, John gathered us up for a breather before heading north to the Bitches.


Bob – per usual – puzzled over his chart.


When we got to the rocks that help form the ride race, not much was happening, but Jane was ready!


Bob and Barb waited…


We split into two groups. Most of us started shaking the rust off by entering and exiting the swift stream coming through the arch next to the harbor landing. David went first.


While the rest of us made these more gingerly forays, Bob, Barb and Tomas (soon joined by Jane), went right out into it and started Bitchin’.


Then David headed out


while John kept watch over us.


As did one of the frequent tour boats.


After we all had a chance to move out to the Big Bitch (as Ben called it) and try our hand at catching the diminishing standing wave, we headed into the harbor for lunch. A nice view of waves crashing into rocks as we entered the harbor.


Ramsey Island is a marine preserve


and it was seal pupping season. Both the day before and this day we saw mama seals and papa seals and baby seals (still with their white baby fur) on many beaches, or in the case of the dads, patrolling back and forth in front of the beach protecting the family. Ramsey doesn’t allow landing on any of its beaches during pupping season, and the only way to land was on the metal stairs leading down from the pier.


Tomas, Nige and John organized the boats while the rest of us scrambled up the steps.


I headed up and up and up to the loo at the top of the island. There was a helpful rock weather station that spelled things out pretty clearly.


I was soon joined by Bob and Barb, and we enjoyed the view, with the Bitches far below, looking completely benign.


Across the way was the reassuring sight of the lifeboat station at St. Justinian. Just in case we needed it!


The rest of the group was relaxing on the concrete pier.


This is a cool closer view of the arch through which the current we had played in before lunch flowed.


I looked down at one of the pocket beaches and saw this little guy napping.


After lunch, things had really died down, and it was time to think about crossing the channel again and heading back from whence we’d come. Donna, Bob and I enjoyed the calmer conditions.


And then John took a picture of…yes, we can only call us…The Bitches at the Bitches! Five ladies, four on Medicare and one younger… I’ll leave it to the reader to sort the group out…


For me, one last look at the Bitches


before we were back at the mainland.


But where the heck exactly are we?


Turned out that we were about to enjoy some more bouncy waters as we approached a passage between two rocks.


Tomas held position as we went through one by one.


I can’t say that I didn’t feel a sense of relief that the Bitches were behind us, and that all had survived the day.


Back at the inlet entrance,


where people were now scrambling on the rocks.


The tide had gone out enough that we had to walk the boats through what remained of the tidal stream.


We had a debrief about the day

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while we watched the channel being dredged out.


That night, we celebrated Barb’s (38th!) birthday back at the cottages!


It was a very special day. I for one had been so apprehensive about going to the Bitches that I was glad that we had it behind us now. Had the Bitches continued to loom as a psychological mountain throughout the week, it would have been much more difficult to go there. Of course, I didn’t know then that our schedule might just include another trip down the road…

Day Three – Porthclais to Solva

John and Nige arranged for us to spend this day on the water with Lou Luddington, a marine biologist who has written numerous articles for Ocean Paddler magazine about sea life along the Wales coast. First, we had a slide show that introduced us to some of Lou’s favorite small creatures – barnacles, lichen, seaweed and limpets among others – as well as birds and sea mammals.


She also introduced us to the concept of “zonification,” the different colored stripes of life along the cliffs that we’d been wondering about. Who survives being constantly battered by waves, who can tolerate being wet and then dry, who likes being in the middle?

Porthclais was once again to be our starting point, but on the way there, we stopped to check out conditions from far above.


When we left Porthclais this time, the stripey cliffs made more sense to us – even if the view of climbers rapelling down them did not…


We all paddled along, Bob of course looking down at his chart.


Along the coast, we saw a big hunk of pinkish limestone.


We stopped for an on-water lecture.


It was a bouncy day, and hard to stay together as a group to listen, let alone hear.

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There were slots to traverse.


We stopped for lunch on another rocky beach, helping each other stabilize boats washed about by the small surf.


This is the one picture we have of the whole motley crew…


Lou lectured on different seaweeds, and we did taste tests to see which we liked the best…


Some of us hunted for rocks to take home, and found a few. Then it was time to move on. How these cows manage never to fall over the edge, I don’t know…


There were great slabs of rock to pass by. Here are Barb and Donna.


And finally, the last stretch toward Solva


when my camera ran out of juice…

Day Four – A Change in Plans

Porthgain to Abercastle

Increasing (to Beaufort 5-6) SW winds put the kaibosh on our original plan to paddle from Whitesands Beach around St David’s Head to Abereiddy. We all drove to Whitesands to check out the launch. This picture will give a sense of what confronted us.


While we waited in our cars, John and Nige consulted at length in Nige’s van. The longer they kept talking, the more anxious some of us got. It was clear that keeping with the plan would involve both a surf launch through dumping waves at Whitesands, and a surf landing on rocky Aberreidy beach. Plus strong winds and waves on the committed coastline of St. David’s Head. We wondered what was taking them so long to decide. While I can’t speak for Bob, who always welcomes a sporty challenge, I can say that a number of us experienced relief in proportion to the amount of time that the boys had conferred when they finally emerged from the van to tell us the plan had been scrapped in favor or a more protected passage from Porthgain to Abercastle, further east along the coast. We would get protection from some of the winds, and there were numerous take-out opportunities.

So for the third time, we set up a car shuttle for a one-way passage. The day turned out to be one of our favorites. We experienced wind and waves and it rained (or rather heavily misted) for the only time on the trip. There were rocks and slots to play in and through. Caves to explore.

Out through the now familiar harbor at Porthgain, and turn right this time. We split into two groups for most of the day, as there were so many slots and rocks to explore all along the way. Tomas briefed us on one plan for approaching a rocky area.


Entrances to caves were sportier, with lively water to get through before reaching the calm inside. Going in…


Coming out…




Nige put Donna in charge of getting us all through a rock slot.


We all managed fine under her good guidance. Here is Jane coming through.


This was a whole day of fun in the rocks…


On the way to find a spot out of the wind where we could each lunch, we were greeted by the sight of cows above and birds below, a perfect Pembrokeshire vista.


In the afternoon, another cave,


Another slot.


Bob found a waterfall on his detailed chart and we made for it. Barb posed in front.


More rocks…

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Another arch beckoned…


I stopped in the middle to take a picture.


And then was out the other side.


It had started to rain, or mist, for the first and only time all week. It looked more the way we had all thought Wales would, headlands against headlands, obscured in the distance.


But it passed, and we were being pushed by the west winds to our destination, the landscape flying by to our right as wind and tide carried us.


Donna in the waves…


Many of us in the waves…

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And the final right hand turn into the little harbor at Abercastle, the castle ruins above us.

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We landed and as we waited for the car shuttle to sort itself out, John pointed out a plaque, connecting the North Shore of Massachusetts with Wales.



We all agreed that this had been our favorite day thus far. Although we had been disappointed not to make the St. David’s Head transit, the day had given us rocks, waves, caves, wind and rain. It had been exciting and fun. Beautiful as well. We also all benefited from both seeing and hearing about the thinking process of two very experienced paddlers as they scuttled Plan A and came up with a more satisfactory Plan B. Given the conditions we’d seen (and which I was unable to adequately document, given the need to hold onto paddle rather than camera in the more challenging stuff), most of us – Bob excluded? – were glad not to have been caught out around St. David’s Head.

One of the mantras of the week from John and Nige was to make a picture in our head of what we anticipated based on looking at charts and maps, seeing the weather and tides forecast, and what we actually saw. Based on how sporty things were on our protected run, the picture in my mind of St. David’s Head was not a pretty one…

Day Five – a Semi-Day of Rest

Dinas Head to Newport

The tide was favorable only for an afternoon paddle, and so we had the morning to be tourists in St. Davids and to do some shopping – including a trip to the studio of artist Chris Neal, whose Wales prints a number of NSPN and other visitors have bought. I did my part for the economy as well…

We all gathered at 12:30 for the longish drive to the beach by Dinas Head – east and north up the coast from our previous most northeasterly spot at Abercastle. It was a bright and sunny day. Our launch spot, on a sandy beach bordering a close to flat-calm bay to the east of Dinas Head,


was most notable for the remains of a 12th century Norman church that was substantially destroyed by two mighty storms in the mid 19th century.


While our plan was to head east to Newport, we still had a bit of time before the tide (current) turned in our favor, so took the opportunity to paddle west up the east side of Dinas Head.


We found rocks (what a surprise!)


and caves (ditto!),

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and fought our way into the west wind through a tide race past Needle Rock. This provided the opportunity to turn around do some downwind surfing, which some accomplished with greater grace than others…

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Nige was good enough to take me up and back several times, encouraging me to KEEP PADDLING even when the boat was feeling not exactly in my control with following seas. No great surprise…his advice worked!

We played (and wore ourselves out) until the tide turned, and then headed east on calm seas.


The landscape was different here than where we’d been paddling earlier in the week, and Anna gave it a good look.


But while the cliffs may have been less imposing, impressive rocks are impressive rocks, and they sure don’t disappear up there. Barb and the rocks.


A big slot.


More spaces to go through…


Donna in the rocks.


Gull on a rock.


Another slot…


And a waterfall that no one was expecting


to which Bob was drawn.


It was a short paddle, and soon we were at Newport, paddling toward the sandbar that marks the estuary up into the countryside.


Except for the tide race at Dinas Head, this short day provided a nice bit of rest before what turned out to be the most dramatic day of all, Friday, when the B word was again spoken, and we returned for another go…

Day 6 – Whitesands and Ramsey Island Circumnavigation;

The Twll and The Bitches Part II

I was of mixed mind when we were informed that conditions might well be favorable for a Ramsey Island circumnavigation, something that apparently not been possible the last couple of times that John had been there. If we were able to make it around, we would have a second date with The Bitches. We were again split into two groups. Five of us – Jane, Anna, Donna, David and I launched 45 minutes before our compatriots. Ben and Bramble also joined Nige as guides (five paddlers, three guides – quite a ratio!).

It was a glorious day for a paddle. Sunny with a manageable breeze. Our launch at Whitesands was a low tide one, and it was a long walk across the flat beach to get the boats into the water.


Our plan was to go north and west along the southern edge of St. David’s Head, riding the back eddy that forms in Whitesands Bay, before riding the ebbing current to a lump of rock from which we would be able to get a good view of conditions along the visible part of the outer edge of Ramsey Island. This involved setting a ferry angle to ensure that we didn’t miss our mark, and lining up with North Bishop Island, which was far to the north, we were carried south with the tide and hit our mark precisely. What a difference local knowledge makes!

We played for a time at this rocky way point, where a current flew off of one end. Then we made the crossing to Ramsey.


There was a big cave, unfortunately occupied by a floating dead baby seal. We passed more caves.


The paddle along the outer edge of Ramsey was a sporty one. Numerous tide races had me singing loudly to keep my composure (and upright posture) - an effective strategy as I managed to stay upright the whole way along. The outer coast was wild and dramatic, with no landing spots because of the pupping seal restrictions. There were a few bays that provided a bit of protection and a breather from the exciting flow carrying us toward the end of the island.

In no time, we were approaching the south end of the island and the Twll (an opening between Ramsey and rocky islands immediately to the south, with a deceptive and challenging tidal flow if you hit it wrong – which we did not).

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We threaded through a series of high rocks and openings that put me in mind of being in a cathedral.

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We all got through successfully.

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and we were suddenly in the calm waters of Ramsey Island - well, calm enough until one reaches The Bitches, less than a kilometer away. (Later, we found out that the second group was confronted by four foot standing waves at the same spot and had a challenge making the passage.)


We went through rocks,


and were followed by seals, their huffing breathing easily heard behind us. I was last in line, and when I turned around, I could see as many as ten seals, their heads up and out of the water, trailing behind us.


And then we were back at The Bitches, which were running more strongly today than on our first visit. There was an opportunity to pause in a calm spot.

It had been a challenging paddle, and we paused first for lunch, hauling out on the steps to the harbor pier we’d been at earlier in the week.


We looked down at the passage through which we had traveled to get to the arch by the harbor.


Then there was nothing left to do but go out in it… David in The Bitches.

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Donna, surfing and exiting.

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Nige, showing how it’s really done.


As for me, after a successful week of maintaining balance and (mostly) my composure, I entered the strong tidal stream flowing off the Big Bitch, and promptly capsized. This was not an entirely unwelcome experience as it was a warm day and the water was refreshing. (This is what we in the psychiatric field call “reframing.”) Nige did an efficient rescue, and soon it was time catch another stream of challenging water to get us to the mainland, where another flow of flooding tide would carry us home.


Casting a wary eye toward the roiling waters around submerged Horse Rock, we made the crossing, following Ben’s line, without incident, and all that was left was a leisurely paddle back to Whitesands.

Day is done.


Thankfully, this was a high tide landing, and the walk across the beach was short.


When all the boats were loaded, gear stowed, clothes changed, we tumbled into David’s car, and pronounced ourselves, at the end of six straight days of challenging paddling…TOAST.

That night, Jane and Donna cooked us a wonderful meal. We were joined by Margaret, one of our hosts, a real treat as we heard about how our cottages had come to be and about living in Pembrokeshire.

A kayaker’s week in Wales… A paddling experience unlike any I have had before. From the surprising and enticing color of the blue green water to its unexpectedly warm temperature (due to nearby flow of Gulf Stream); from the tide races to sometimes incomprehensible currents; from the high rocky cliffs to grazing sheep and cows above; from the caves to the water sloshing through the many negotiable rocky slots…the environment was a new one. While we had moments of peaceful paddling, they never lasted long. While this trip report contains many photographs, none do real justice to how dynamic the environment is. Where one might best have captured an image to give a sense of this, I had both hands firmly on my paddle. I have never spent so much time talking out loud to myself (“Keep paddling!”) or singing as I sailed along.

While this was not a formal training week, there was much knowledge imparted by our first rate guides and some of it was even learned! John’s repeated exhortation to make pictures of the environment with which to contrast expectations with reality, to attempt to make sense of why it might be that the one might not match the other…was a real take home for this very special week.

After six days, I did find it a relief to have a day of sightseeing, and a couple of nights before had very much enjoyed a several mile walk along the cliffs from our cottage to The Sloop, the pub in Porthgain where we enjoyed two meals. Seeing from above what we had traversed below was eye opening.

Many thanks to coaches John, Nige, Ben and Bramble; to marine expert Lou; to shopping, walking and conversation companions Marybeth and Donna (David’s wife, one of two Donnas on the trip); but mostly to my fellow travellers: Bob, David, Barb, Anna, Tomas, Jane and Donna – with whom I so much enjoyed sharing this extraordinary experience.

If this was Wales for Weenies, please never sign me up for Wales for Warriors!




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Pru, a terrific report and beautiful pictures of such a awe-inspiring environment that is the UK. It is REALLY hard to convey the grandeur, scale, and intensity of it all, and once you have been there, you understand why all 5* assessments are held over there - there is just no other place like it. I am so glad you and your group got a chance to experience such a wonderful trip (with excellent guidance!), and hope it will prompt all of you to consider going back and exploring more coast line.

Pru, I think you should add "Wales Warrior" to your profile.

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What a wonderful trip you had! Seeing your pictures and reading the day to day travel log brings back memories. Especially of the Ramsey Island circumnav! I remember being the last one making it around the corner and thinking that if I was just a few minutes later, I wouldn't have made it around. When that current turns, it is like a giant door swinging and slamming shut! I just made it by the skin on my teeth!

Glad that John didn't abscond with your camera for the whole of the trip!

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Pru, you have such an amazing gift of making the reader feel like they are right by your side on your journeys. So glad you got to enjoy the full Wales experience-one's sense of paddling horizons and perspective can't help but be altered there. Your report bring back great memories and SO makes me want to go back again, and again, and again...

Edited by Lorrie
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