René Seindal

The 35th Vogalonga was held on May 31st, on the Sunday following Ascension as tradition dictates.

The Vogalonga is a 30km non-competitive “race” through the city of Venice and the lagoon. It starts a 9 from St. Mark’s with a cannon shot, and proceeds around Sant’Elena, past the islands of Certosa, Le Vignole, Sant’Erasmo, San Francesco in Deserto, Burano, Mazzorba, San Giacomo in Palude, Murano back to Venice for a final trip down the Canal Grande back to the finish at St. Mark’s.

As an exception to an otherwise firm rule, Venice Kayak rents kayaks for the day of the Vogalonga, so we were a bunch of people launching from the camp site, in addition to the maybe 50 or more other kayaks, canoes, inflatables and other boats starting from there too.

Marco and I had to get everybody off safely, so we launched last, at about 8.30, with the prospect of not getting to the start on time, as the paddle to St. Mark’s normally takes about 40 minutes.

The weather gave us a hand, though, for which we paid dearly later. The forecast was for a NE wind, turning ENE later, of force 4 to 5 for most of the day. The sky was ominous, dark and menacing, but we were spared any rain during the day. The only trial would be the wind.

With a F4-5 tail wind and waves of ½m we half paddled, half surfed down the Canale San Nicolò and around Sant’Elena to St. Mark’s, where we arrived in less the 20 minutes, well before the cannon blast and the start of the Vogalonga.

The start was as chaotic as ever. One thousand five hundred boats or more, assembled without any order or system, all starting at the same time, is bound to create some disorder. Being in a small vessel you need to be careful and look over your shoulder every once in a while. A gondolone with twelve, fourteen or eighteen oarsmen cannot turn or stop in a jiffy, and the many backwards rowers often have little idea of where they’re going or what they’re hitting.

The first critical point was when we turned left at Sant’Elena, straight into the wind. Many rowers weren’t prepared for the wind that suddenly hit them, and had difficulties turning the corner. A caorlina just in front of me completely cost control and veered to the right, straight across the path of many other boats struggling to turn left. Much shouting ensued, but being behind and left of the fight I didn’t get involved.

The next 15km was one long hard slug into the headwind. Initially, the canals there were narrow and the field still close together, so there was little choice but to keep up with the speed of the others. The average speed of the many Venetian boats with four, six, eight or more oarsmen was around 5km/h in spite of the headwind, so we just had to push harder and keep up with them.

After a while I spotted Marco maybe 200m ahead of me, paddling in a leisurely pace just in the wake of an eight oarsmen gondolone, shielded from the wind by the much higher Venetian boat, and I started paddling even harder to catch up with him. I didn’t gain one metre on him, but I did succeed in geting very tired way too soon during the Vogalonga. After a while I gave up and found a similar place in the wake of a caorlina, where I could relax a bit. There were still over 20km left of the trip, and I had no intention of pushing myself out of the race.

I followed other boats like that for a good part of the northward part of the itinerary, breaking away every once in a while to try to take some photos. It was almost impossible to photograph anything. As soon as I stopped paddling, even for the few seconds it took to pull the camera out of the pocket to turn it on and drop it on the spraydeck, the wind would cause me to lose speed and turn sideways across the path of the others. The few photos I did manage to take were almost all shaken because I had to lower the camera before the autofocus has finished.

As we turned left around San Francesco del Desterto towards Burano I made a small mistake. Most other boats kept a course more to the left, downwind, which seemed to take them south of Burano, not north of the island as the official itinerary said. I assumed they had been blown a bit off course by the strong winds, so I kept more to the right towards the northern side of Burano. As a consequence I ended in secca, in shallow waters due to the low tide, and for about 1-2km I had to fight the winds from my right with only 10-15cm under the keel. Had the tide been just a little bit lower, I would have been stuck.

As I approached Burano and finally got enough water under the boat to paddle faster, a completely devastated Marco pulled up besides me. He had ended up behind me earlier because he wanted to take some pictures, and had had to paddle like a madman to catch up.

We agreed on taking a break after we had rounded Burano, in the canal at Mazzorba, where the wind would be in our favour. We picked up some drinks and bananas at a service boat in the canal, and as I ate my bananas and drank the sugary greenish stuff they had give us, Marco paddled across the canal to say hello to a friend. I drifted along, leaving Mazzorba towards the island of Madonna del Monte, while I took photos of the passing boats.

Each year in the Vogalonga there seems  to be a boat that attracts more attention than the others, and it usually involves female rowers for some unknown reason. Last year it was a beautiful wooden sandolo with a couple dress in white with golden scarfs, and this year it was a smaller sandolo or mascareta rowed by four women from the Remiera Querini in Venice.  The boat was adorned with blue flowers and the girls dressed in matching colours.

Most rowers were relieved of having turned the corner and now having a good strong tail wind, but for some the problems seemed to get worse. Many of the backwards rowers seemed to have problems with the following waves, and many went way off course. A black gondola, the only one I saw doing the Vogalonga, also went off course at times, but they definitely made it, as I saw them later in the city.

The strong winds and the open landscape in the middle of the lagoon gave more and larger waves than I have ever seen in the lagoon. As I approached Murano, especially after I had passed the island of San Giacomo in Palude, the waves were between ½m and 1m, which is a lot in a shallow lagoon. It was definitely enough for me to catch a wave and surf a little. I had loads of fun, until a backwards boat almost rammed me from behind as I was waiting for a wave.

I was full of energy as I entered Murano and continued towards S. Alvise on the NW side of Venice. The official route was towards S. Alvise then right to the start if the Canale Cannaregio where we were to enter the city canals.

The waves were building up as I came closer to S. Alvise, and they were now mostly around 1m from the back slightly on the right side. When I was almost at the Canale Cannaregio, I had to do a detour because a large area was closed off by a floating barrier. As I paddled around the area, I noticed a sunk dragonboat and two or more backwards boats in the water, in a mess of oars and other stuff from the capsized and sunken boats. A couple of persons were swimming inside the area, apparently trying to collect oars and other floating items.

(Press photo)

The Canale Cannaregio, especially at the Ponte Tre Archi, is another critical point where boats often pile up. This time is wasn’t that bad, but the backwards people still caused problems as they had problems getting through, even hitting the central arch with getting too close to the sides.

Once I was through the Canale Cannaregio and into the Canal Grande everything eased up and traffic flowed without problems. There were no vaporetti or taxis, and very few gondolas. It was a fantastic experience paddling slowly down the completely quiet Canal Grande which hardly had a ripple on the surface.

At the finish I got my diploma and medal, and moved over to the side to watch the others coming in. Marco arrived soon after, as did the gondolone from the rowing club Diadora (where I’m a member now) with Lino Farnea a poppa, and the splendid red peata from the Remiera del Brenta.

Tony from the UK was the only one of ‘our’ paddlers who came in at that time, and the three of us started our return paddle towards the Lido. To avoid having to fight the wind again around Sant’Elena, we went through the inner city canals until we came out at San Pietro in Castello, which is little more then 1 km from the camp site.

We returned very tired, with the expectation of finding several of our guests there, as it was clear that a substantial number of participants had dropped out of this year’s Vogalonga. To our surprise there was nobody.

They all came back in ones and twos during the afternoon, and everybody who started made it through to the finish. Most were completely exhausted after many hours fighting the headwind, but also content.

According to what I’ve heard and read afterwards, the Vogalonga 2009 was the hardest ever. Over 100 boats left the race shortly after the start when they got hit by the headwinds at Sant’Elena, many others were blown on ground in too shallow waters, and some 30 boats sank or capsized at the Canale Cannaregio. About 80 rowers ended in the water there, and 20 in hospital with minor injuries.

Press coverage:

• La Nuova Venezia
• Il Gazzetino

April 25th is the day of St. Mark, the patron saint of Venice since his relics were taken to the city in AD 828. I haven’t heard of any official celebration, maybe because the day coincides with the national celebration of the liberation of Italy after WWII. Anyway, Marco (not San Marco, just Marco ) and I decided to go paddling in the lagoon, since the forecast promised a splendid, almost summe like, day.

I started the day in Mestre, so I had to take the ferry to the Lido, where I saw this pretty sight.

The boat looks like one of the municipal racing boats, but the rowers didn’t look very expert. They had loads of problems with the waves you often find in the Canale Giudecca.

From the Lido we headed for the island of Sant’Erasmo, often called the vegetable garden of Venice.  There are some 70 small farms on the island, and only a few hundred residents.  The island also have a few canals between the fields and gardens, though they’re well hidden. We had to paddle through a lock to paddle into the island.

It is a very green places

We found this abandoned sandolo in one of the canals. It looked like it had been a beautiful boat, but it might be beyord salvaging now.

The canals were full of life, like small fish, transparent prawns and loads of crabs. Here’s one taking a stroll on my spraydeck.

We also happened on this old gondola in front of a couple of farm houses.

From the canals of Sant’Erasmo we paddled around the Lazaretto Nuovo, to a corner of the lagoon I hadn’t visited before. Behind the Lazaretto Nuovo are the defensive walls of the island. We had to paddle through some very small canals in the marshlands to follow the  wall, but we got through and were spared having to back out again, through all the hairpin turns.

From Lazaretto Nuovo we continued towards the island of Burano, our chosen lunch island. We were getting hungry but still had a few kilometres to paddle. Burano is my faviourite island in the lagoon. Its quite small, about 3500 inhabitants, and really cosy.

Here’s the leaning campanile of their main church.

This is the abandoned island of Madonna del Monte. It use to be a monastery, but it was abandoned in the late 18th century, maybe as a consequence of Napoleons conquest of the Republic of Venice.  He did close down a lot of monasteries.

The leaning tower of Murano again.

Marco paddling towards a nice lunch, with the skyline of Venice in the background.

On Burano we saw this little boy walking a rather large dog.

The coloured houses of Burano are fantastic. There’s every possible colour there, its like paddling on a painters palette. Notice the man taking a photo of us. Natural selection has provided him with optimal camouflage

They were doing some maintenance on the canals on Burano, and several passages were closed.  They weren’t closed well enough, though.

When I get rich I want an orange house on Burano.  It doesn’t have to be big, just orange

Marco paddling passed the pale corner of Burano.

Just behind Burano is the island Torcello, the site of an abandoned medieval city.  Now only two churches are left. They’re repairing the campanile, it seems. It almost looks  like a modern high rise building in the lagoon.

At the entry of another canal on Burano we saw this little gem. It is a traditional boat of the area, a Batèla Buranela. Its an old type of freight boat used in the lagoon, for example by the farmers on Sant’Erasmo for bringing their produce to market in Venice. Very few examples exist now, they can probably be counted on one hand. One of the rowing clubs in Mestre has a Betela a coa de gambaro of recent construction, I saw it there last year.

A beautiful boat full of beautiful people

It was five in the afternoon when we left Burano, and the tide was very low. Many of the passages we’ve used the last years were now too shallow for passage, even in a kayak, and we had to ‘seal’ our way for a while, and in the end we just got out and pulled the kayaks across until we had enought water for another stretch of slow paddling.

The shallow sandy bottom was absolutely crawling with small crabs. When we walked across the shallowest places they would stand down in the 5cm of water, waving their little fists at our feet, and if we got too close they would either scuttle away or dig themselves into the sand.

There were so many we had to be careful where we put our feet.  This one seemed to find the camera rather intimidating and decided to dig  in.

Somehow its impossible to go paddling with Marco without him getting all giddy and silly at some point.

It might look like a very dramatic capsize, but the truth is we only had about 20cm of water there. An actual capsize there would be quite a feat.

Another crab taking a walk on my front hatch.

We returned to the Lido shortly before sunset, under this sky.

Franceso and i had planned to paddle to Cala Goloritzé in the Golfo di Orosei yesterday, and we got up early and set off fetching kayaks at a local camping where Francesco keeps par of his gear, and then on the road to Santa Maria Navarrese.

We launched in calm weather, a force 2 scirocco (SE) and some following waves and swells, but with a forecast of up to force 4 during the afternoon.

The paddle northwards went easy enough, and we passed Pedra Longa and the Grotta della Columba without problems, but as we approached Capo Monte Santu the going got a bit rougher. The Capo Monte Santu is cape with a 200m vertical rock wall that drops straight into the sea for some 2-3km, and there are almost always difficult winds and waves there.

We had a bit of a fight with waves and winds around the cape. Personally I find following swells and waves quite difficult to navigate, as I have no visual forewarning of what is in arrival, but I think both of us found it a bit difficult there, as Francesco headed directly for the entrance to Porto Quao, which is a completely sheltered natural harbour on an otherwise not very welcoming coast.

We landed in Porto Quao and laid our gear out to dry in the sun. After a while we decided to abandon the attempt to reach Cala Goloritzé and instead enjoy the sun in our little sheltered corner, until the afternoon when there was a good chance the wind would wane a bit.

The little bay was as enchanted in the sun, so we made a little photo session. We took turns to climb the rocky cliffs around the bay to take photos of the other fooling around the sheltered area in kayak. It was hot and sunny, the rocks were steep and razor sharp with dense mediterranean vegetation, which for a nordic type like me translates to sunburn and totally scratched legs, but it was fun and we got some nice photos of our kayaks in the crystal clear waters of the Golfo di Orosei.

At about three thirty we got ready to return. As soon as we rounded the corner, we discovered that the wind was still a nice force 4, with swells of 1-2m but modest waves of less than 1m. It still took an effort to round Capo Monte Santu, and as we moved well away from the coast to avoid the choppy rebounding waves, we got separated and lost visual contact for extended periods.

Francesco knows his waters and was both much more confident and a lot faster than me, so he was well ahead of me most of the time and probably closer to the rock wall than I wanted to be. In any case I lost him for quite some time, and at the same time didn’t feel I had the resources to actively look for him, as the wind and waves gave me plenty to work with.

I wouldn’t say I was in trouble there, but it wasn’t easy going. The first hour took all my effort and concentration, but I did handle it in a controlled and steady way. My own feeling is that I was quite close to the limits of my abilities in a kayak, but not outside.

In the end all went well, and as soon as we were around the cape we found each other again, and we paddled together for the next couple of hours back to Santa Maria Navarrese. I was quite tired in the end, more mental tiredness than physical.

We had a coffee at Santa Maria Navarres and drove home to yet another dinner thet couldn’t be beat, and then off to bed. I slept well.

I arrived in Cardedu in the afternoon on Saturday, and I was hardly in the door at Francesco’s before he declared that we were going fishing in kayak that afternoon. It is like that at Francesco’s house. It is very hard not to end up paddling most of the time.

We went to a local camping where his trailer were, picked it up and were off to Cardedu beach for a late afternoons paddling and fishing.

Francesco does a lot of fishing from his kayaks, and he has had some spectacular catches, including a 27kg “pesce luna”, which is a tropical fish not normally found in Sardinian waters.

We didn’t catch a thing. Francesco got a few “tracine” but they either got off the hook or were let off because they were undersize.

Anyway, when we got home after sunset, Elisa, Francesco’s wife, had made homemade pesto with basil from the garden, so we had another dinner that couldn’t be beat nonetheless. Food is good here in Sardinia, and much of grows literally on people’s doorsteps.

I should have written something on the blog then, but we ended up in front of Francesco’s computer looking at photos, websites and leaflets, and at eleven I just collapsed on my bed.

Francesco is a person who prefers to stay active rather than taking half a day off, so Sunday morning we were off again to take a couple of Poles out paddling at nine. Just as we were about to leave, the camping where they stayed called to say that they were still too drunk from the evening before, and that they weren’t going. We had, however, recruited a few others for the excursion on the beach the day before, so we left anyway.

On the beach, only one of the promised three persons had showed up, so the group ended up being of just one persons. After a bit of instructions, communicated in an unholy mix of Italian, German and English, we paddled down the coast for a while, and back again. It was a quite calm day, with a light scirocco and only some modest swells to deal with.

Back on the beach we had a beer with our German paddler, and they and Francesco arranged for next years exchange of German beer for Sardinian red wine.

In the afternoon we went sight-seeing in most of Ogliastra on motorbike. We drove to the Lido di Orri, to Santa Maria Navarrese, over the small mountains and down to Pedra Longa, then back and on to Baunei and up to the Golgo plain behind the Cala Goloritzé and the Cala Sisine I visited last year in kayak. We spent some time there, throwing pebbles into a 270m vertical hole, visiting a 16th century church, and hanging around the local bar.

We then returned almost to Santa Maria Navarrese, before going to Triei where they had a city-wide celebration of the ancient traditions, with people dressed in traditional clothes, stands serving local specialities and many old houses open for visitors. The city also sported a large number of murals, some quite interesting.

There we met some friends of Francesco, who took us up the hills to see an ancient nuraghe and a “tomba dei giganti”. The nuraghe had been really big, but it was in bad shape, mostly a ruin, and it wasn’t even indicated on the street signs like other local sights. Francesco’s friend told us the it had been quite different when he was a kid, almost complete, but it had been ruined on purpose by somebody over 20 years ago. It is so sad to hear than something which has been standing for thousands of years has then been ruined so recently, but of course, human stupidity and ignorance know few bounds if any.

The “tomba dei giganti” is another type of neolithic monument, traditionally thought to be a tomb, but who knows what it was. This one consisted of a covered passage with the remains of an elongated mound, with a crescent shaped series of stones on one side. According to our guide it had the shape of a bull’s head when seen from above.

It was getting late, and we had a pizza appointment at Cardedu Marina a 8, so we had to head back homewards. We arrived half an hour late, found nobody there but desided to eat anyway as we were rather hungry and heard on the phone that the others were coming anyway. Not as soon as we had ordered did they show up anyway.

Today Francesco and I got up early and we’re off for a paddle to Goloritzé and back, which is about 30km along some of the most beautiful coastline in Sardinia, which is saying a lot as most of the coast here is breathtaking.

It is hard to find a bit of time for blogging, as Francesco likes to keep his guests on a tight schedule. After all, you can always sleep when you get old(er)

It also helps that there is no mobile coverage in or near his house, keeping me offline unless I go and sit in the orchard or between the vines.

Sunday was Vogalonga Day and all of Venice was turned upside down for a day.

The Vogalonga is a celebration of Venice and its rowing traditions, and in part also a protest against the invasion of the city by motorised vessels. The waves made by motorboats and ferries are very harmful to both city and lagoon.

There must have been close to 1600 boats this year, a bit more than last year. The highest number I saw was 1566. On top of the registered boats there are all those who just come along—like my friend Marco who has done it so many times he doesn’t care about the diploma anymore—so the total number of participating boats could be anything from 1600 to 2000. The number of persons participating must be many times higher, as a lot of boats had a crew of more than one.

Most of the locals row traditional boats. Many are from the various rowing associations, but there are a lot of private boats too. There were many gondolas, of course, but I think the most popular type must be the sandalo, and the smaller sandalino. The sandalo is a very elegant boat, long and slender with much less rocker than a gondola. Besides these I saw Mascherete, Topi, Tope and a huge Peata.

Personally I must have been one of the slowest of the many participants. I came in just minutes before the closed the finishing line down.

We started from the Camping San Nicolò on the Lido. I was up at 6.30 to get everything ready, so we could be in St. Mark’s Basin at 8.30. It’s only a 30 minutes paddle, but there are always things to do, and we had a group of some 12-14 persons to get on the water. Our launching conditions at the camping aren’t finished yet, and the very low tide caused a bit of problems, but we found various corners and ramps to launch from.

We paddled to St. Mark’s Basin in a loose group and soon got separated in the confusion. I followed Marco in the hope of getting to meet some of his Italian paddling friends, and we did meet up with Giorgio Sartori who is organising the Bibione Kayak Symposium in these days, some 70km north of Venice. Giorgio was in good company, with Nigel Foster, Kerstin Nelson and Jen Kleck.

I quickly lost track of where Marco went, and instead I paddled with Giorgio, Nigel, Kerstin and Jen for most of the first half of the Vogalonga. We paddled with the main group, and it was quite a spectacle with a plethora of different boats.

A beautiful blu-white Topa which had been built by hand by the crew themselves.

A vintage sandalino, made in 1968, rowed “alla valesiana” with two oars crossed.

A Peata, an old type of cargo boat.

This is by far the most beautiful boat I saw all day. A beautiful sandalo with a beautiful crew in beautiful clothes, they did draw both attention and camera lenses.

Burano is a fascinating place, so we stopped there to have a look at the city with all the coloured houses, and there suddenly, Marco showed up again, with a couple of girls, naturally. To show off I guess, he started crawling around on the kayaks. The water in that canal is absolutely disgusting, so I had my camera ready should he end in the water, but alas, nothing happened.

We had a nice break there for a bit of sightseeing and a coffee. We continued, now way behind the main group of boats. I chatted with Marco for a while, and lost contact with Jen, Nigel and Kristin there. I tried to catch up with them on the stretch from Mazzorba to Murano, but only managed to work up a sweat. When I got to Canal Grande in Murano they were nowhere to be seen.

There were very few boats out in the lagoon at this point, so I knew I was quite a bit behind the majority of the boats, so it was quite a surprise to find the Cannaregio canal totally and utterly crowded. I had seen on the description of the route that the Ponte Tre Archi was a known congestion point, but didn’t really expect any congestion being so late.

Most of the trafic jam was caused by backwards rowers, English style rowing they call it here. There was quite a bit of current in the canal, so when the long boats tried to negotiate the narrow bridge arch they easily got turned sideways blocking the bridge. I moved forward to the bridge just as two backwards boats tried to do the same, and got squeezed between the oars of the two. It was a bit like being stuck between two giant combs with moving teeth. I got out of the problem by pulling myself close to one of the boats under their oars, so the other could get through first, then I followed before the second backwards boat.

Just behind the Ponte Tre Archi I found Jen Kleck, clinging on to a parked motorboat, looking like a lost puppy. In the mess before the bridge she had gotten separated from Nigel and Kristin, and didn’t know whether they were ahead or behind. We paddled together down the Cannaregio to the Canal Grande towards the finishing line.

As we neared the finishing line, Jen wanted to see a bit of the smaller canals, so we made a short detour down the Rio della Toletta, Rio del Malpaga, Rio del’Avogario to the Squero Tramontin and along the Rio dei Ognisanti to the Rio di San Trovaso and back to the Canal Grande.

It was a pretty detour, but we lost more time, and as we finally came back to the St. Mark’s basin the loudspeakers went “and thanks to all our sponsors for their support …”, and I was quite sure we’d managed to be too late my a split second, but as we passed the finishing line we got out little diploma and medal.

We ran into Marco again there, sitting in his kayak behind a couple of wooden poles, chatting to somebody on his mobile phone. Jen was quickly reacquiring her lost puppy look, so Marco rang Giorgio to find out where the others were. They were already at the car near the barrier, and after a bit of discussion of routes and canals, it was decided that Marco and I would escort Jen back there through the city.

Once Jen was back in safety, we paddled back to the Lido north of the city, to avoid all the confusion and have a bit of quiet around us for a change. At least I was rather tired. The approximately 30km of the Vogalonga had turned into 40-45km in all, and I really wanted to stand up and stretch my legs.

Just as we were about getting the kayaks up, meeting the others, and I started to think about showers and sleeping bags, Marco threw another bomb. It was suddenly his birthday too, so we all had to go out and eat together. Bye bye sleeping bag. Nevertheless, we had a nice evening at the pizzeria “Alla Botte” in Gran Viale on the Lido, but I was practically sleep walking back to the camping afterwards.

More Vogalonga photos on Flickr.

Tomorrow is Vogalonga day, and we’re on our way to bed so we can get up in time for the start at 9 in the St. Mark’s basin.

Today we’ve had a group of Vogalonga participants on a tour on Venice in kayak. We were three Sardinians, three from Puglia, one from Bologna, four Frenchmen and a lone Englishman, plus a Dane and a Venetian.

We had no specific plan, other than paddling around the city enjoying the scenery.

This time we managed to paddle all the way through the Arsenal. Its still a closed military area, though it is full of non military activities, so you can get in legally on foot, but not in a boat. We took the chance, and only at the very exit were we told to leave.

We then had a close encounter with a vaporetto in the St. Mark’s basin, which almost ended a couple of participants in the water, but we got by safely all of us.

We then spend several hours paddling around in the area of St. Mark’s, San Polo, Dorsoduro and Cannaregio. We had lunch near Piazza San Barnabá.

The city is full of weird boats, from kayaks to huge canoes to polynesian canoes and many other water crafts I don’t know the name of.

On our way back we paddled north of the city back to the Arsenale, around Certosa and back to the camping on the Lido.

I have many photos but I’m too tired to upload them now.
More photos on Flickr.

On Sunday the 30th of March we went paddling along the spectacular coast of Golfo di Orosei, where I also paddled last year. A 50km stretch of coastline is part of the national reserve of Gennargentu-Golfo di Orosei, which means that here isn’t a road or a house to see in the reserve.

I paddled along this part of the coast of Sardinia in October last year, and it is a very dear memory, and I couldn’t wait getting back there. I paddled the same boat again, because the Skim Distance has spent the winter at Francesco’s.

A few friends of Francesco had decided to come along. Francesco Ravasio from Cagliari was there, and so was Stefano Diana of Diana Canoe and two local girls Adda and Valeria. Stefano had brought a prototype of a new boat of Francesco for a first try in the water, and they had a long and heated debate all’italiana about who was to try it first, but in the end Stefano came out on top and started in the prototype.

We all drove from Cardedu to Santa Maria Navarrese at the south end of the national reserve, and launched from the beach just below on of the many ancient Spanish towers that dots the coast of Sardinia.

The first part of the paddle were along the sloping coast until we reached the Pedra Longa, a rock spike 128m in height which stands exactly on the coastline. You only really understand the size of it when you’re sitting just under it looking up. Fortunately, we had calm weather and it wasn’t a problem getting close to the rocks along the coast.

After Pedra Longa the coast changes to vertical rock wall, which must be several hundred meters tall, because the Pedra Longa seems small in comparison. Shortly after rounding a cape we arrived at the Grotta del Colombo. It is a very large open cave where the internal parts look a bit like a dove in flight when seen from a distance.

A bit further ahead is another cave. From the Grotta del Colombo the entrance looks small and bell shaped, but it is some 15-20m tall. The cave is rather deep and in the calm weather we had, we could move all the way in without any problems. The inner walls are of a strange green-yellow colour in vertical stripes, which I haven’t seen anywhere else.

Our first stop was planned as Porto Quao, the hidden harbour, which is a sheltered cove just after the Capo Monte Santu. We arrived there and hauled the kayaks up on the very limited space, the bottom of the cove is just a few meters wide, and had lunch and a rest there. Porto Quao is a place Francesco uses often on his excursions in the area, since is the an easy landing and launching spot even for unexperienced paddlers.

A few of us had a nap and Valentina found a dead goat. It had been dead for a while, because only the bones were left.

It had been our intentions to continue to Goloritzé a few kilometres ahead, but we had launched late and spend too much time fooling around on the way, so we decided to return from Porto Quao. It was a bit sad, because Goloritzé is an incredibly beautiful place, but it was the right thing to do.

The return was slower still, because we now had a slight headwind. We paddled back towards Pedra Longa, and had another short rest on a little beach close by, before continuing back to Santa Maria Navarrese, where we arrived at six thirty in the afternoon, shortly before sunset. Hence, we did right not continuing to Goloritzé, because then we would have had at least an hours paddle in the dark at the end.

Valentina had to catch a flight early the next morning from the airport of Alghero which is two and half hours drive away. There was little chance of making the journey in the morning, so we left almost immediately from Cardedu towards Alghero with the intent of finding a hotel for Valentina near the airport. We drove in the darkness through the tiniest of mountain roads, and it was well after midnight before we said goodbye to Valentina at the hotel. Francesco and I drove back to Cardedu, but suddenly on the way back, Francesco turned down a small by road and parked the car in front of an old stone wall. It was a nuraghe which he thought we should have a look at now we were in the vincinity. We arrived at four in the morning.

Each year Kajakhotellet.dk organises a Santa Lucia procession in kayak to collect funds for Amnesty International.

Besides having a charitable purpose—each paddler paid €15 to AI to participate—its also a good excuse to get to paddle a bit off season. We were around 100 paddlers today. I saw one or two television crew on land, so we might have made the local news.

The Santa Lucia procession is a celebration for the return of light, so we put lights on our kayaks and paddle through the canals of inner Copenhagen after dark. At times the children on the quays spontaneously sang the Santa Lucia carol as we passed, and people shouted comments and salutations. Most people found it very beautiful with a hundred illuminated kayaks in the canals.

At a canal side café we all had gløgg and æbleskiver, served in the boats

Pavia Lumholt participated too, and he promptly capsized. Good thing he knows who to roll

Actually, Pavia did a very impression little rolling demo in some very cold water.

Today I went paddling in the lagoon with my Venetian friend Marco and his friend Damien from Padova. We didn’t have any particular plans, just paddle and have fun.

Here’s Damien in his rusty old kayak

And here’s Marco in the Current Design Solstice that Wendy is going to paddle around Sardinia (Marco has a weakness for playing with lagoon mud

Here Marco is having a lot of fun throwing mud at Damiens kayak

Its some thick yucky stuff and Damien isn’t amused but cannot retaliate because Marco is paddling a borrowed kayak. Dirty tricks in the lagoon, literally.

I just got stuck in the sticky stuff

The tide in the lagoon was exceptionally low today

Marco and Damian had a romantic moment in front of Burano

Then some lagoon pirates came along, playing loud music

Marco chased them off with his paddle, but the mood was ruined anyway

At the end, just at the entrance to the lagoon, we met this really cool guy

in an incredible good looking boat

Any good day in the lagoon will end with a sunset and so did this

Today’s paddle me took to the Giudecca of Venice. It used to be an industrial area with housing for working class families, there’s quite a bit of run down houses and abandoned factories and shipyards.

New houses on the south side of the Giudecca.

Older, but nice looking houses in the Giudecca.

Abandonded shipyard buildings on the Guidecca.

Overgrown factory buildings just next to the posh Hilton hotel.

And today’s surprise: I happed to find the Associazione Canottieri Giudecca by chance. It is the local paddling/rowing club. They had some very old kayaks, like the ones I saw yesterday, some newer boats but must of their effort clearly went into Voga alla Veneta, the Venetian way of rowing standing up and pushing the oar. These must be their best sports gondolas for regattas and for the Vogalunga. Unfortunately there wasn’t anybody there when I passed by.