Jonathan is a relatively young teacher in South LA, real estate investor and a very fit individual, who has bicycled across the country-- Single ladies note. He is just getting into kayaking in recent months.

We met at 0730 at Kiddie Beach at CIH, and were off by 0800, in very mild weather, with a haze in the distance. As we moved out of the harbor, Jonathan lost track of his GPS, which is supposed to keep track of where we are. After a short delay and confusion, he found it and we again proceeded outbound. We could see Oil Platform Gina in the mist, but not much else. We followed a heading of about 204 degrees magnetic, to pass well to port of Gina. Moderate boat traffic passed us on the way to fishing and cruising waters.

Jonathan paddled steadily, but it was obvious that he didn't have formal training. He was fairly well equipped, with VHS, GPS, extra paddle, whistle, mirror, PFD and enough food and clothing to last for days.

He is a physical fitness buff and a nutritional food freak, with all kinds of energy drinks, supplements, capsules, fruits and breads on board. He paddled his Wilderness Systems Freedom, a nice SOT with a rudder, but a little beamy for distance paddling.

We are fellow members of the PROACTION Investors Club and were also evaluating a new prospective opportunity for buying into the company that sells the new "HOOAH!" energy bars. These were created by the Department of Defense for use by the Special Forces and Marines in Iraq and Afghanistan. The company had sent us a couple of cases to test. Those in my family tried them at home and found them to be pretty good, as energy bars go. Jonathan and I decided to become human test laboratories for the trip. I committed to fueling solely with Hooah Bars and water for the 22 NM trip. Jonathan merely added them to his already bewildering arsenal of nutrients.

The weather was spectacularly good for paddling, at about sixty degrees, mid-range humidity, haze and just a zephyr of a breeze. Swells were minimal with just occasional ripples for wind waves. Reflections played upon the glassy waters. Dolphins and sea lions occasionally breached. Young creatures came by our boats in groups, craning their necks to see the mainland interlopers.

On the way out, we chatted about our mutual Brooklyn, NY origins, real estate, stock market, education, nutrition, kayaking and other things. We enjoyed watching large freighters speed through the sea lanes, as various fishing boats and other pleasure craft made their way through, as well.

As we approached Anacapa, the familiar but always welcome trademark arch, dramatic soaring rock formations, lighthouse and red-capped buildings, revealed themselves. The island was all dressed up in green spring finery with brightly dressed tourists wandering about like ants. The Island Packers boat "Vanguard" had passed us on the way out, discharged passengers and was idling off the East end of the island when we passed by.

We reached Cathedral Cove in 3:35. It was populated by dozens of sea lions on the East side, with dive boats and pleasure craft elsewhere. We had to thread our way past divers' bubbles to get to an unusually sandy low tide landing. We landed in 2 foot surf, stretched and ate. I gamely stuck to my HOOAH! bars. Jonathan was mixing complex drink formulae like a chemist and downing futuristic brightly colored capsules from plastic tubes, while forcing down chewy HOOAH! bars.

While waiting, I went exploring among the rocks. The water was so clear that I could see the bottom fish and divers 30 feet down. I explored near tidepools and rocks bristling with barnacles, mussels and brightly colored plants, animals and talked to some very personable divers. We smelled a heady bouquet of barbecuing meat and suntan lotion wafting over from the dive boat SPECTRE, out of Ventura. I politely discouraged several weekend paddlers from bothering the sea lions resting on the rocks.

We headed back for the mainland after about an hour or so. The wind had already started picking up, creating a cross breeze and increasing wind waves. We initially headed to port of Gina to adjust for conditions. I started showing Jonathan some improved paddling techniques from Greg's Aqua Adventures Strokes class. Flipping on our GPS' to provide instant feedback on results, he was a quick study. We had him up from 3.5 kts to over 5 in short order.

By the time we passed the sea lanes, Jonathan was cold from the wind and waves. I had ensured that he was carrying extra clothes, but he had them packed deep under the hatches. We rafted up, I put my paddle across both boats and dived into the hatches to untangle the gear and find his jacket. A couple of times I glanced up and saw the black carbon fiber paddle. It was about 15 minutes before I disassembled and reassembled everything, while the kayaks rocked and banged together and waves lapped into the open rear hatch. When I finished and went to retrieve my paddle, I realized that it was Jonathan's paddle I had my eye on and mine had vanished. Our upwind search was fruitless. It's amazing how fast things get lost on a trackless sea :-( . It's good that I carry a spare.

During the search, I felt increasing pains and cramps and remarked on it to Jonathan, who had the same symptoms, which we deduced were caused by the HOOAH! Bars. It got worse and worse as we traveled on.

Jonathan is in excellent shape, from heavy gym workouts and bicycling, but it's not the quite the same thing as kayaking, as we've seen many times when new, fit people get involved. It takes a while and some training to achieve good kayaking conditioning. Although he has actually done Anacapa and Catalina crossings before, these were in very mild weather, at a slower pace. The faster pace and heavier weather took their toll, with the HOOAH bars being the last straw.

The weather got rougher and the pains more acute, as we approached the coast. I had to keep straightening out to relieve the pain, laying back to paddle. It felt like hardening concrete passing through my body and that an intestine would burst. By the time we passed Platform Gina, 3.5 NM from Kiddie Beach, it was intolerable. Finally I had to do what never had been necessary in 10 years of paddling, including runs of over 13 hours-- jump out of my kayak and unload. Thank you, HOOAH! Bar.

Poor Jonathan was tired, but game. With the 15 KT increasing winds and very heavy inbound boat traffic fleeing the weather and passing us on both sides, the seas were roiled. Although he didn't know proper bracing technique, he has excellent balance, reactions and the Wilderness Freedom is a very stable boat. He stayed upright, but must have been exhausted. I was a little chagrined that I was the one who broke down under the HOOAH! Bar onslaught and he didn't, even though he was a far less experienced kayaker.

We pulled into the harbor after 4 PM and landed 5 minutes later. The wind had picked up past 20 kts by then. We were both chilled and tired. I had been overboard and was wearing a short sleeved windbreaker, not bothering to change into my long sleeved GoreTex for the last hour after my unscheduled bathing session. Jonathan was shivering and looked like death warmed over. He got very sick in the parking lot, but felt better afterward, but depleted.

In spite of all this, we were laughing and joking about the absurd HOOAH! bars and speculating on how we would describe this paddle in future years. Jonathan was justifiably proud of surviving the ordeal. He offered me his hi-tech paddle. I demurred and invited him to crash at my place. He demurred and we both headed home.

We checked on each other later to make sure things were all right.

I was writing this trip report Sunday morning, when an unfamiliar grey car pulled into our driveway. Jonathan got out and walked to the door with a brand new hi-tech Werner carbon-fibre adjustable paddle for me, fresh from the arms of Joanne and Doug of SouthWind Kayaks. He had driven all the way down to Irvine, then up to our Ventura County abode, then back home again to do that.

Whataguy!

Regards,
George Miller

The weather reports seemed favorable, so I called George and invited him to paddle out to Anacapa with me. He was game; I was stoked. I usually cross solo. George is as cautious as I am reckless, and was as prepared as I was unprepared. His muscles were conditioned for endurance, mine were conditioned for the weight room. It's not the same.

The paddle to the island was easy and without incident- light winds kissed a calm sea; the swells were soft. Caspian terns perched on kelp; brown pelicans glided over the sea; sirens strummed on harps- you get the picture. Very halcyion... and very deceptive. That's Nature- an unpredictable shrew!

The return trip was...hmmmmm- imagine you were running a marathon, you didn't train, you ate something that uncoiled your intestines, the muscles in your leg cramped, and you were on that lonely stretch of road without spectators. It was kinda like that, only worse. The winds, as if to mock us, incited the waves and churned the sea. When we launched from Anacapa, I had stuffed my neoprene suit in a dry sack and tucked that into the hatch. Didn't think I'd need it. I wanted to work on my tan. Now, eight miles from either shore, I was shivering and cold. Nature is a stern taskmaster. Sometimes she may tolerate fools, but othertimes she can be unforgiving and harsh.

I asked George to reach into the hatch to fetch my jacket. We rafted up. He gave me paddles to hold. I held mine and the spare, which was lashed to port. He gave me his to hold, but I was so disoriented, I don't remember holding it. When he asked for it back, and I realized I didn't have it... remember when you were a kid and your best friend entrusted something to you and you lost it? Remember how crummy you felt? The yucky feeling that asserted itself was kinda like that. I've got credentials, but you'd think I was an amateur. Sigh. But I wasn't concerned about the paddle (my fears were much more primitive), and after a futile search, we continued on. We were both ill. I jettisoned my fears and filled my heart with prayers. God treads upon the waters and "walketh upon the wings of the wind." That's what I'd like to believe anyway. My soul settled, even though my stomach was unsettled.

Out of the sea we were fashioned, our ancestors (simple archaeo-bacteria) crawled out of this primordial soup. And these primitive elements-water and wind- hammered us into our present form. I brooded on this and relaxed into my native self. We kept a bead on an oil platform which floated out in the distance. Each paddle stroke brought it closer. Sailboats heeled, plying over the sea, mainsails cupped. Waves broke over the the port coaming and splashed onto my lap. George flanked me, he'd sink in the troughs of the rolling swells, only to appear again, paddle dipping into the waves. That gave me confidence. And we pressed on. What a great mate to have along, I thought.

Now the oil platform was to port and I could see the sailboats dipping behind the breakwater. The terns welcomed us in, or were they jeering us? When we returned to the beach, I spilled the contents of my guts, "Hooahhhhhh!" That's why they call it the Hooah bar, I joked. I was weak. George unloaded my kayak and carried it to the parking lot. Who could ask for a better mate?

Despite the setbacks, I had a great experience. I had to dig deep and jettison my anxieties. I've crossed the channel to the islands many times, but I hadn't been to this place before. Glad I wasn't alone.