ISKA Meet North Coast 20/21 September

[Chris McDaid]

Sundays paddle...............

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mFxPHvZ ... v9c6L4YULB

Cheers,
Chris

[clairehugs]

What a weekend..great paddles..thanks for putting together the videos Chris!!...john Stuart has done a Sunday one too catching that carrickarede collision and nearly both of those spectacular capsizes...

I echo what Trish said about the inspiring day on Saturday seeing quite a few people paddle in conditions they had never been in before...I was so chuffed for them..

Thank you again robin and john r for everything..the knowledge, the hospitality and the generosity...
Robin has asked me for a few photos..can any of you pass me some of your best and I will pass them on to him

See you down in cork next month hopefully...

[afinn]

Well what a weekend that was, fabulous, far too much too mention, oops

[ND]

Great week end it was, thanks Claire for organising and Robin for sharing his knowledge (and the other locals) and hospitality (& Janet). Good videos here too - Claire, will pass some pict when sorted
cheers, Nic

[afinn]

Well what a weekend that was, fabulous, far too much too mention, we were so well looked after, Clare et al even organised a heatwave for us, really...
Myself and Willie went up on Friday night and that a story in itself, pulling off the motor way for a coffee because we spotted a Spar sign ,turned out to be a main distribution centre for Spar, no coffee, we lost the motorway, not easy to do, ended up in a town, about to ask directions and a row comes spilling out of a pub, floor it....
$0 American young ladies staying in the hostel on Sat night, noisy at breakfast
As always I write a little "Piece" on the trip to try to convey the day, to give a snapshot of it. this following is just about Sat. a thoroughly brillaint and fun day because of who was on it paddling......might get around to sunday, just as good, great laughs and some not so funny

Saturday 20th
Causeway Coast.
After an excellent talk by Robin about the local history, geography, rocks etc we slipped out from Ballintoy Harbour between black volcanic rocks into a lively sun speckled sea.
25 in all, a small horde of winged creatures atop the water, multicolored to the Gods looking down from above or up from beneath,
Or from nowhere.
The fox from the frozen north leading, guided by Robin,
Willie watches from behind, great crew.
Rocks and channels,
White Park Bay stretches out on our left,
A Basking Shark stretches out on Catriona's right,
Fright, Delight?
Pictures to prove it, magnificent,
It sensed us, it saw our feeble efforts in it''s environment, it swam away, probably smiling.
A rock with a hole, Giants Eye,
Port Bradan, a place for a few to pray, but only a few,
White cliffs rise up everywhere,
We bounce past Gid Point, Otter rock on the starboard,
sustenance at Dunseverick Harbour,
Sun and Italian wine,
Living, alive,
The group was shot, captured, digitised,
Kind tourists,
A rocky landing for a few then to empty the mooning appliance at Port Moon,
From the ground, through us back to the ground,
We paddle away from the red roofed bothy,
Bloody architects.
Contham Head and Bengore Head passed,
High cliffs,black now, volcanic, rock and grass,
Stones lean upon one another, precarious
Whispers among the leaders, Benbane Head looms ahead,
White horses run into it, and applaud the end of their lives on this rocky shore,
Can we get around?

It is as if the Gods, where ever they reside have decided to play with us,
We are as like puppets, puppets on the end of strings, pulled hither and tither,
Agitated sea,
Perhaps Gironas crew are taunting us,
The manacled rowers crying still for help, for release, their efforts boiling the sea?
The "Selkie" paddles on,
Calm, he paddles in white water, I follow,
His calmness, his strokes never varying,
Inspiring, soothing,
The sea rolls and froths.
Vulpes Lagopus looks up to see a kayak above,
Oops? Nay, Balloops is shouted,
Laughter, what glee,

We reach the Giants Causeway,
Finn to Finn,
The Great Stookan rock,
Still the sea plays and toys with us,
Tossing us about like a shaken goldfish bowl,
Bushmills Bay,
We run for shelter,
Brief respite, back out to sea to to aim for the arms of Port Ballintrae,
Negotiate the last of the black rocks and home, calm.
Shuttles, pint or two and jumbo cod and chips in the festival town of Bushmills.

Home,
Willie has a nap,
The American Girls are in Ballintoy town.

Later the smoky gloom of the boathouse in the harbour,
Not gloomy gloom, but happy satisfied, perhaps ecstatic gloom,
Candles flicker and shadows dance,
Clare unleashes the straining bubbles from the glassy confinement,
Frothy, spilling forth like a boiling sea.
Clare pops the champers,
We sing happy felicitations to her, 21 again, never ask a lady her age,
Stories of the day as wood smoke rises and sausages sizzle.
Conor,who loves the steely silver hearted one, not really steely,has onions in the fire,
Not irons, onions.
A dram of water from the Bushmills river,
Now turned into alcohol,
A miracle,
Tastes like one.

At midnight going home, look up at a star encrusted sky,
A multitude, a plethora of stars,
The souls of those who have gone before?
Glistening, telling us something,
The sea laps and sooths,
Sleep engulfs us.
END.
A big thanks to Clare, Robin Ruddock, John Ruston, for all their knowledge and expertise,
To Patricia and Willie for watcing out for us and to all the wonderful paddlers who did extremely well in the seas and kept each other company and safe. A truly spectacular days paddling.

[patriciacarraher]

Ah Jaysus Alan, you are a wonder. That is marvellous.

Trish