Hawkesbury River Kayaking Trip

Unlike bushwalks, kayaking trips have significantly more logistics to organise. I've organised a few helpers to gather at the Canoe Club's boatshed to assist with loading up the trailer with boats. We first got into uni, picked up Canoe Club's trailer, and towed it to the boatshed where the boats are. Starting with the long mirages landing on the top, we've slowly decked our trailer with boats, and emptied out the boatshed with PFDs (life jackets) and paddles sitting at the bed of the trailer. Then comes the hard part- tying down all the boats with ropes so they don't fly off the motorway. We would wrap all the boats with a rope, then tighten the end with a trucker's hitch (used to tension ropes). My trucker's hitch was quite patchy, having only been used once or twice a long time ago. I'd tie the loop, then realise it's too far down and there's no space to properly tension the rope, then redo the loop, and it took a while to truly get the hang of it. Pro tip: Do alpine butterfly loops, as overhands are nearly impossible to undo once loaded, and they do experience heavy loading after a drive on the streets. I've looked into Murray by the time I've got that done, and he has already had 6 of them tied and ready to go. 

Next morning, Adrian drove to my place, parked in my garage and joined Chad for a lift. We've gotten to Murray's place, unloaded a boat, redid some knots and tested trailer brakes, before heading down the motorway to our boat ramp. We've encouraged most people to get a lift, but some still decided to take the train to Hawkesbury River and walk 6km to the boat ramp. As we were crossing the Hawkesbury River on the bridge, we saw some bushwalkers on the old Pacific Hwy, clearly identifiable with camping packs. 

With everyone arriving on time, we quickly enlisted them to help with unloading the boats, then slowly moved kayaks to a grass patch closer to the ramp, where we loaded up the kayaks with our gear. Each kayak has hull space capable of holding about 60L of gear, and weight doesn't matter as much as in overnight bushwalks. Still, those hull spaces don't look big, and we were quite nervous trying to make them fit. It's best to fit most gear in the hull, as items strapped on top of the kayak would upset the weight balance and become quite annoying with crosswinds. 

Everyone had almost everything fit into the hulls except a few chairs, packs, and my sleeping bag (quickdrawed into the kayak). Murray and Chad's kayaks were two massive exceptions, strapped with a full tank of water, a repair toolbox and a few more gear in dry bags, almost like they run a command centre with their battleships. A few of us had tow ropes and first aid kits in, and all we had left was the canoe club banner. I couldn't be bothered with the chunky old banner, but Murray was happy to have that strapped somewhere. 

With most things ready, we started to have boats launching off the ramp, trying to be efficient and have a few things happening at the same time. The boats felt significantly heavier with gear loaded, and lifting a double kayak, normally a 2-person job, became a 4-person job, and the larger Mirages a hefty 6-person job. The plastic kayaks went in first, followed by the fibreglass kayaks, which had to be carefully handled to not scratch and damage their hull. The launch was a bit chaotic, but a while later, most kayaks were in the water and we were ready to go.

The first thing we noticed in the water was that one American person was missing his life jacket (technically called PFD but for simplicity we'll just call that life jackets, life jackets and PFD are technically different). Murray told him to put it on, followed by Chad and me, and all we got was him saying that he is a really good swimmer and he can tread water 300m. After a while, he finally managed to put on his life jacket after complaining for 5-ish minutes. That was quite annoying, but oh well, I haven't had Americans on my trips for a long time. 

My kayak had a lot of gear and I could visibly see the vessel sinking in more than it normally would in a harbour paddle. We paddled up the Hawkesbury River, keeping to river right. I got slightly stuck with some shallow mudflats and had to paddle hard to get unstuck. 

Heading away from the M1 bridge, it's all calm waters, trees, random houses on the shore, and us in the middle of nowhere. To clear out my massive collection of snacks, I've packed lots of them onto this trip, starting with some Cookie Time cookies from New Zealand. It's quite fun passing snacks in a kayak- I'd paddle towards all the other kayaks like a wandering trader, pass them choc chip cookies over water, then paddle to another paddler upstream, and the process repeats. Everyone enjoyed these affordable yet tasty cookies from across the ditch. 

Soon it was time for lunch! We saw a bit of a mudflat and Murray got me to land and scout out whether it's a good spot for lunch. I landed, got out of my kayak, and started sinking into mud. That's no good, we thought, continuing our paddling until we got to a sandy bank near some mangroves for lunch. Most people had a simple meal except Chad and me, who dug out gear from our hull, lit up our stoves and made instant noodles. 

Going to the toilet/doing dishes is a mission from this island, and we would have to cross a small channel to get to the mangroves. Murray kayaked over from the sandy island to the mangroves, while I walked across, sinking into mud every step I took until I got into the mangroves. 

We hopped back into our kayaks shortly after Chad finished his noodles. I dragged my kayak into the water, tried to hop straight into my seat, but slipped and fell into the water. First semi-capsize of the day, I guess, with my clothes now soaked with saltwater. Seconds after we started paddling, we saw the same American guy without his life jacket again. We told him to put that on, and the same "no one knows swimming more than I do" argument came in, but luckily, he was quick to realise the importance of that orange vest. 

Entering Mangrove Creek, we could see the effects of the tide kicking in. We've timed our paddle with the tide just so we're going down the tide and not against it. The entire paddle would be about 4 hours at a casual pace if we go with the tide, but against the tide it would be almost 10 hours of extreme paddling, going two steps forward one step back and barely making any progress. With the tide, we could feel the water pushing us forward, even though the push had gotten our kayaks to drift sideways, and those beginner paddlers had a bad time constantly steering forward. 

A few people were slow paddlers but that's where the art of boat allocation kicks in, and the stronger paddler tends to be able to maintain a steady pace. I hovered around the back of the group to give people some beginner advice, as some people's paddling looked a bit funny, in particular, the American guy who swims really well. They were struggling to kayak in a straight line, which is common with all beginners (me included when I first started kayaking). People will often say "one day you'll get there", but it's all about accepting that your kayak will go in an S shape all the time, and making a lot of minor adjustments to have it stay on course. I taught them to use sweep strokes for directional adjustments and simply point and paddle (if you point somewhere and paddle straight, you'll get there), but that doesn't seem to go anywhere. I then tried to teach them how to edge their kayaks, but I felt like if they actually edged their kayaks, they would capsize, and we would have a really annoying T-rescue (trip leader lifting the entire boat onto their cockpit, draining most of its water before assisting capsized paddlers back in) with a really heavy boat. These sea kayaks are designed to be edged (ie, tilting the boat to the side as they are being turned), which helps them turn a lot quicker as it reduces water resistance.

We all had a great time jumping between clusters of kayaks and joining different conversations. I was hopping from Nico & Alex up to Murray for his whitewater stories, then heading back forming a cluster for some tea spilling, and the process continues. We were too excited with our conversations that we missed our turnoff onto Popran Creek and continued up Mangrove Creek for quite a bit before realising we had to turn back.  

Popran Creek narrows down into this secluded creek, perfect for paddling. People were getting quite exhausted at this stage and we were all happy to go into our campsite and call it a day. It took a while, but eventually we found the boat ramp right next to our campsite. Amberley and I landed first to help while other leaders made sure the landing was organised, and no mirages would crash onto the ramp. We took turns moving all the double kayaks on shore, then the chunky mirages, and soon all the boats were set in our campsite. 

We pitched our tents near the kayaks using the side closer to the boat ramp. Murray had the Canoe Club banner set up while a few of us queued for the hot shower. There were 2 toilet blocks near our camp, fully featured with hot showers, something us bushwalkers weren't really used to. We all enjoyed this luxury as we joined in a queue for the toilet, and it took a few hours for the queue to clear. In the meantime, a few people collected firewood, and soon we had the campfire ready. I was asked if bushwalkers had a banner as well- if we were to have one, it would have to be ultralight, made of dyneema or the latest grade of nylon. 

Soon it was dinner time as we gathered for all sorts of campfire conversations. I told the important purple feather story, along with the classic "likes tea but hates coffee" campfire game, with a slight twist catering to the Canoe Club audience. Most people went to bed shortly after dinner, with just a few of us staying till the end, sharing our random stories (sorry for those who were trying to sleep). Amberley told us some animal politics of her house, Alicia told us her random hobbies, and Murray shared his 70km walk in Tasmania, completed over 22 hours, whilst carrying a 22kg pack. After the Mt Anne trip was cut short, he embarked on a 2nd bushwalking trip, trying to complete this 70km walk before 8 am on the 2nd day, just so he could make it back to his flight. The full trip report can be found in SUBW Discord, but essentially the most interesting part was that he reached Denman's Cove (start of the very touristy Three Capes track), found that the track onwards vanished within thick bush, and had to dive into thick scrub right at 3am while trying to race back to the bus.

The sleep wasn't great with the noise of other campers overnight. To be fair we were quite noisy, so we shouldn't be complaining. Everyone woke up early for a prompt start of the ~20km bushwalk to Mt Olive and back, except Chad who preferred a silent bludge day with nothing happening. 

The highlight of the day was Emerald Pool, a natural swimming hole which looked crystal clear. Almost everyone jumped in and had fun over the chilly water. The depth of the pool was also good, as Murray and the American guy both attempted a cliff jump from a tall ledge ~6m above. Apologies to the other bushwalkers who came for a peaceful time and ran into our massive group. After the swim we had lunch, Murray filtered water for those running low on water, and we continued on the fire trail towards Mt Olive.

Rest of the Mt Olive bushwalk was all fire trails, before we descended back into our campground, calling it a day. Glenworth Valley is a massive campground and is also heavily commercialised with horse riding, quad biking, kayaking activities and so on. The final bit of the bushwalk was a ~2km walk down the fire trail to our campsite. On the road, we saw a few horses, some quad bikes, and this resident dog who decided to join us for the walk and followed us to the campsite. 

And that's followed by another night of campfire activities. Around the campfire, there were a few subgroups- a UNO subgroup, a chess club with Grace and Murray, and a Sudoku club with Adriano spending the entire night solving a Sudoku challenge. The night was symbolised by Murray hopping around the group to tell his stories, and by Alicia, our legendary storyteller. She is unstoppable with her stories and always has so much to share; every single moment of the trip saw her sharing another story or adventure. It's hard to describe in a trip report, but in a nutshell, she's such a unique vibe. I spent a good chunk of the trip enjoying her hilarious stories, from snowboarding injuries to urban explorations and relationship mishaps. Nico also became our beer officer of the trip, smuggling in 3 bottles of home-brewed ginger beer into the hull of his kayak- they tasted amazing and one of a kind. 

Murray had a look at the tide charts before we went to bed- we either start early and paddle in the morning, or paddle late at night. The morning paddle was the obvious option, and Chad has kindly volunteered himself to be the party's official alarm clock. 

We started getting into our kayaks at about 7:30am the next day, launching them into the boat ramp and enjoyed a bit of paddling in morning fog. The entire paddle felt so calm and unreal, as if we were trapped in the wilderness.

As usual, I've volunteered myself to be the photographer for both clubs. The perk of being a faster paddler is that I could take my time snapping pics at the back, play catch-up and still beat most of the group. 

Chad led the front group and we did a quick regroup as we exited into Mangrove Creek. The party was led with Chad in front, me sticking around Murray the battleship occasionally showing us how he would stand in his seat and paddle SUP style, and the two blue plastic kayaks at the back. Tim was getting quite exhausted at this stage, but that was made up for by Seb, a surprisingly strong paddler given his experience. The best swimmer in America was still continuing with his funny-looking paddling, not helped by the small cockpit and his knees not wedged properly in the knee brace. Kayaking requires one's feet and knees to be properly locked in for an efficient transfer of power from the paddle, through their body, down to the boat. His knees were resting outside of the cockpit and that certainly doesn't help bring all his hard work into forward movement. I offered a kayak swap, but my boat with all the gear has become more tippy than usual, and I would probably much prefer avoiding a T-rescue. 

The mirages are always a bit of mixed reviews. Some of us really hated doubles as they are heavy and hard to paddle. Double kayaks with two similar strength paddlers could, in theory, outrun a single kayak, and the mirages with fibreglass hulls are very light and could go very fast. In reality, with the way paddlers are distributed based on experience levels, that rarely happens, and a mismatch in strength often means one person is working a lot harder than the other. The cockpit is also quite small and confining for tall people, and the kayaks are also fragile and require a lot of care to avoid damage. Other than that, they are very stable, and if speed weren't to be a main concern, it could be a relaxing paddle with the person at the back matching the pace of the other person. Another perk is that you could do leg drive in these kayaks (technique where instead of paddling with your arm, you engage the much stronger muscles in your legs and hips, sort of like you're bushwalking in your kayak), and Alex was using that to his fullest advantage. 

Morning fog started to clear up towards the end of our paddle. Hawkesbury River looked like a scene set in New Zealand. Shortly, the M1 bridge reemerged and that signalled an end to our trip. The 20km paddle back took us only 4 hours and felt like barely a workout, mostly thanks to the favourable tides. 

We loaded our trailer with kayaks again and bid farewell to everyone for a great trip. A few of us returned to the boatshed, enjoyed a freshly prepared Thai meal on the pontoon overlooking Anzac Bridge, and started the long chaos of washing up all the boats and restocking them into the boatshed. 13 kayaks had to be individually washed and water drained, interrupted by other boatshed users trying to squeeze past us as well. It just went on and on and on, but eventually we got there one day, returning home with really sore backs, shoulders and legs. 

Overall, another great collab with the Canoe Club! Massive thanks to Murray for organising, Chad for driving the trailer and helping with all the logistics, and the many helpers who stayed before and after the trip to load/unload our boats. Also, cheers to everyone for jumping in and helping with the many heavy-lifting tasks throughout the trip. The success of these trips (or essentially anything that's not Bondi to Coogee) heavily depends on everyone being good team players- this doesn't mean just following instructions, but being able to read the scene, see if someone needs help or something needs to be done, and proactively jumping in without others asking you to, plus clear communication of what you've done so others don't repeat your work, and of what you're doing so others can be in the picture and assist you as a team. It's something that uni isn't very good at teaching, and easier said than done (a lot of outdoor guides and experienced people are horrendous communicators and team players).