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Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

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Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

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  • Inside the protective barrier of the islands and coral reefs there was a beautiful tranquil lagoon. Beyond the tranquillity the Indian Ocean was still hurling waves and creating explosions of spray. I wanted to investigate the biggest breaks on a huge outcrop of bare rock on the outer side of the islands. I clambered up on to the rock and watched the massive swells that had travelled thousands of miles across some of the most tempestuous seas on the planet colliding with a boulder the size of a house. It was an awesome spectacle of the power of the ocean. I took some dramatic photographs but wanted to capture the perfectly timed moment of maximum impact. I dashed out onto the rock to a position that I thought was out of reach of the waves and quickly retreated to avoid the spray. They seemed to be consistently hitting a maximum height but all of a sudden a monster wave crept in unnoticed from a slightly different angle and hit me from the side. I spun around to face it and was engulfed in a surging mass of energised water; it felt like being hit by a car! I was swept off my feet and desperately tried to arrest my slide towards the foaming cauldron below, and to protect my camera. I just managed to save myself from what could have been a desperate plight if I had been swept into the sea. I felt pain, and the first thing that I noticed was that my arm was badly scraped; then I could see that I was standing in a pool of blood. I lifted my foot up and winced at the sight of a huge gash; it was very painful and I couldn’t stand on it. The infected sores on my shins and feet were still causing me some discomfort, especially at night. I wasn’t looking forward to going to bed that night because I wasn’t expecting to be able to find any comfortable positions. When I hobbled back to camp I cleaned and dried my camera and lens, but that camera body and my essential wide-angle zoom lens were now out of commission.
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  • After leaving Antanambe I faced a 15 mile paddle across a stretch of unprotected ocean, with the biggest ocean swells that I had encountered. The waves generated by the steadily increasing wind were really daunting, especially as sometimes they seemed to be coming from two different directions. My kayak is very stable, but the deck was leaking quite a lot, so I had to keep stopping to pump the water out, and at the same time stop the kayak from being swung around broadside to the oncoming waves, which would have risked getting swamped and capsizing. Unfortunately the prevailing wind was from the SE, and because of my required course to get to the islands the waves were approaching too close to my beam.<br />
To counter this I had to keep tacking and trying to head to the east of the outer island to compensate for any drift. I also had to avoid running directly with the waves because they were so big that they would have washed over my stern or slewed me broadside to the wave, and an inevitable capsize! I had to maintain my concentration to keep the waves on the quarter. As I got closer to the islands I could see the massive breakers smashing onto the rocks; it was one of the most unnerving situations that I have ever been in. I was level with the closest island in the group and rather than trying to run with the waves I decided to go in reverse. The safest angle for any boat to handle big seas is to head into the swells and ride up over them; you offer the least resistance and can maintain the best possible control of your craft. I was allowing the oncoming waves to drive me backwards to where I wanted to go. My heart raced every time a monster wave bore down on me and I rode up and over it. It took a long time but I had no choice. When I was close enough, I could see a break in the coral reef protecting the islands, and I turned my stern into the waves, and surfed towards safety whilst glancing over my shoulder to brace my kayak with my paddle for each surging wave.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey24.jpg
  • After leaving Antanambe I faced a 15 mile paddle across a stretch of unprotected ocean, with the biggest ocean swells that I had encountered. The waves generated by the steadily increasing wind were really daunting, especially as sometimes they seemed to be coming from two different directions. My kayak is very stable, but the deck was leaking quite a lot, so I had to keep stopping to pump the water out, and at the same time stop the kayak from being swung around broadside to the oncoming waves, which would have risked getting swamped and capsizing. Unfortunately the prevailing wind was from the SE, and because of my required course to get to the islands the waves were approaching too close to my beam.<br />
To counter this I had to keep tacking and trying to head to the east of the outer island to compensate for any drift. I also had to avoid running directly with the waves because they were so big that they would have washed over my stern or slewed me broadside to the wave, and an inevitable capsize! I had to maintain my concentration to keep the waves on the quarter. As I got closer to the islands I could see the massive breakers smashing onto the rocks; it was one of the most unnerving situations that I have ever been in. I was level with the closest island in the group and rather than trying to run with the waves I decided to go in reverse. The safest angle for any boat to handle big seas is to head into the swells and ride up over them; you offer the least resistance and can maintain the best possible control of your craft. I was allowing the oncoming waves to drive me backwards to where I wanted to go. My heart raced every time a monster wave bore down on me and I rode up and over it. It took a long time but I had no choice. When I was close enough, I could see a break in the coral reef protecting the islands, and I turned my stern into the waves, and surfed towards safety whilst glancing over my shoulder to brace my kayak with my paddle for each surging wave.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey25.jpg
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  • Kayaking-Madagascar-journey29.jpg
  • Kayaking-Madagascar-journey30.jpg
  • Kayaking-Madagascar-journey26.jpg
  • It was lovely paddling around the protected shallow lagoon between the three small islets of Nosy Atafana Marine Park but the currents were very strong. I observed a lot of fish in the sea in and around the islets.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey31.jpg
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  • Periophthalmus gracilis is a species of mudskippers native to marine and brackish waters of the eastern Indian Ocean and the western Pacific Ocean where it is an inhabitant of the intertidal zone, capable of spending time out of water. This species can reach a length of 4.5 centimetres
    Palawan-underground-river20.tif
  • What an auspicious start to my trip! I had already made one false start leaving too late in the day and having to head back to the relative shelter of Tamatave. The next day I paddled 20 miles along the completely featureless coastline, and all I saw was a continuous, steep beach, with the big swells of the Indian Ocean crashing down onto it. I couldn’t see any ideal places for making a safe landing so I had to just go for it, come what may. I monitored the sequence of waves and made a dash for it at what seemed the safest point. I managed to get through the surf but as soon as I hit the beach and jumped out of the kayak the next wave broke into the cockpit and the powerful undertow started to drag my heavy flooded kayak back out to sea. The alarm bells were already clanging away inside my head, along with the thought, “Here’s another fine mess I’ve got myself into!”<br />
I instinctively started grabbing bags out of the kayak and hurling them up onto the beach while either my feet or knees were desperately anchoring into the abrasive shingle, but I was still being dragged around mercilessly by my unruly kayak. I looked down along the endless beach and saw two diminutive figures so I started hollering for help. As they got nearer my heart sank because I could see that it was a young girl with a child. They could only grab my things that were floating away in the relentless surf but then miraculously a strong young man appeared on the scene, and jumped into the sea to help me wrestle with my half-submerged kayak. The kayak was a dead weight in the water so I decided to start dismantling the cockpit coaming so that some of the water could be drained from the cockpit. It worked, and after much heaving we managed to drag it up the beach away from the surf; we both collapsed on the shore, utterly exhausted and chilled by the cold water. I was eternally grateful for the providential arrival of that young man on that deserted stretch of coastline.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey1.jpg
  • I paddled onto the town of Mananara, whilst nursing my painful foot injury and infected sores. I had to make a long detour around the next point to avoid the minefield of fringing coral reefs and faced the prospect of trying to find a way through the maze of threatening coral in the fading light of the day, and was relieved when I eventually found a clear passage through to the shore. I received treatment for my injuries, in Mananara, and then shared a ride to Maroantsetra, the gateway town to the Masoala Peninsula, in the back of a pickup truck with other foreigners. I was glad that I was able to experience that road journey through the beautiful, biodiverse vegetation of Mananara National Park. I then explored the amazing island of Nosey Mangabe in Antongil Bay, where I had my first encounter with an incredible leaf-tailed gecko, which was love at first sight.<br />
I then paddled from Maroantsetra to the Masoala Peninsula. The sea was flat calm when I passed Nosy Mangabe but just after midday the wind started to pick up as it often did at that time of day. It was coming in from the entrance to the bay, which opens out onto the Indian Ocean, and in a very short time I found myself battling into winds gusting over 30 mph. Once again I had to keep stopping to pump out water whilst trying to hold my position facing into the oncoming waves. Progress was painfully slow and with every laboured stroke I felt as if my shoulders were dislocating. I was getting drenched with spray every time I ploughed into a wave and the salt was building up on my skin. As my body gyrated with each paddle stroke my back was getting rubbed raw by my backrest and the salt aggravated the sores. My throat was parched and I didn’t have enough water to quench my thirst; I was beginning to feel like a galley slave! My arms and shoulders screamed with the exertion, the salt was burning my flesh, and I had to overcome exhaustion; by the time I eventually reached my destination I was completely drained.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey33.jpg