By Anna Blackwell
As I pushed away from the steps and dipped my paddle into the water, a cheer erupted from the crowd of friends and family that lined the bridge above us. Glancing over my shoulder, I tried to soak in every detail of my surroundings: the choppy water lapping against the Houses of Parliament, the expanse of blue sky overhead, even the scaffolding wrapped around Big Ben.
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Thanks
We would like to say a special thank you to our sponsors who have made this expedition possible: Elsevier, Mullenlowe Group, Will It Make the Boat Go Faster, Mamma Mia Pizzeria, ADPR. Thank you also to our equipment sponsors: Overboard, Reed Chillcheater Ltd, Peak UK, Pure Hydration, Helly Hansen, Wescom.
Kayaking the Continent
Sitting just in front of me, I could see Kate’s head swivelling from side to side as she did the same. Before I knew what was happening, the powerful pull of the Thames was whipping us under Westminster Bridge to a chorus of encouragement and farewells. We were off.
It was day one of our four-month expedition, tandem kayaking from London to the Black Sea in Romania. Many months of preparation, training and research had led to this moment, and yet it somehow did not feel real. Six months earlier, I had stumbled across an advert online seeking a female teammate to join a world first 4,000km kayaking journey. Having completed a number of adventures over the last five years, from walking 1,000 miles across France and Spain by myself to a five-week solo trek across the wilderness of arctic Sweden, I was on the hunt for the next ‘big one’. Something about the advert in front of me piqued my interest.
Despite knowing very little about both the person advertising and the adventure, I fired off a brief email expressing my interest in filling the vacancy. A rapid email exchange established that Kate Culverwell, the advertiser, had received over 80 responses from women all around the world since posting the advert two months prior. Bizarrely, it also transpired that we lived a few miles from each other and had attended the same school, though at 19 years old Kate had been five academic years below me. A few days later we spoke on the phone for the first time. Within minutes, the conversation had deteriorated into fits of laughter, an indicator of what was to come over the subsequent months.
losing her dad
After hatching the idea of crossing the continent by kayak earlier in 2017, Kate became fixated on making the project a reality. Over the following months, it evolved into something more for her; after losing her dad to pancreatic cancer a few years before, Kate decided that this world first journey provided the opportunity she sought to raise vitally needed funds and awareness for the disease. Through our expedition, we are aiming to raise £50,000 for the charity Pancreatic Cancer Action, a target we are speeding our way towards thanks to the overwhelming support and generosity of so many people.
During our initial phone call, Kate and I discussed and agreed upon a mutual desire to find a scientific project which we could support in a proactive way. It took a few months of searching to find something suitable but we eventually stumbled upon FreshWater Watch, a citizen science research branch of the Earthwatch Institute. Through our collaboration with them, we are collecting water samples and data along our route, looking specifically at the effect of urbanisation on the health of freshwater ecosystems.
Having decided upon a charity to raise funds for and research to contribute to, we were then left with three key areas to focus on in order for the expedition to come to fruition: training, the route and logistics and funding.
Falcon Rowing & Canoe Club
The first of these was the most straightforward and within a few weeks of forming our partnership, Kate and I joined our local kayaking club, Falcon Rowing & Canoe Club, Oxford. Until now, our experience was limited to holidays and more ‘recreational’ kayaking, something that was about to change. Under the guidance of the club’s perpetually kind and enthusiastic president David, our technique and skill level improved until we felt confident and excited at the prospect of spending four months in a kayak together. A brief period on the Isle of Wight ensured we were equipped with the skills needed for the initial coastal sections of the route as we made our way around the Kent coast.
Though things went smoothly on the whole, the process was not without its hiccups; during a particularly cold snap in late December, we somehow managed to capsize our kayak on completely flat water, resulting in an unintentional swim in water that was so cold we resurfaced gasping and spluttering. We also faced a constant battle with the weather and had frustrating weeks at a time where the unrelenting rain and snow resulted in the river being almost constantly flooded or unsafe to paddle on.
The route
Creating a route and working on the day-to-day logistics of a transcontinental expedition was more challenging. Our route was meticulously pieced together through relentless hours of poring over maps, charts and satellite images of Europe. Starting in central London, we would follow the River Thames to the Kent coast for a week of paddling to Dover, from where we would kayak across the English Channel.
Once in France, a network of canals and rivers awaited, leading us across the border to Belgium, back into France and south to Strasbourg. From there, we would join the Rhine, Main and eventually the Danube, the final body of water on which we will kayak the remaining 2,400km through ten countries before finally reaching the Black Sea in Romania. If the prospect of crossing the English Channel was not challenging enough for us, our route included over 200 locks, many of which would require portage around. on those waterways, we had to secure enough funding to cover the costs of our equipment and kayak, supplies for the duration of the expedition, insurance and first aid courses, the support boat accompanying us across the English Channel, as well as a contingency fund for when things inevitably did not go to plan.
Thus began the long and arduous affair of approaching companies for financial support or donations of kit, networking, letter-writing, placing phone calls and applying for grants. We had given ourselves a mere four months to get everything in place, the pressure of which motivated us into working relentlessly on top of our training schedule. On more than one occasion we were saved by strokes of luck, such as having the perfect tandem sea kayak donated to us just as we were on the verge of having to pay for one to be custom built.
Somewhat against the odds, by the time our start date of April 21st rolled around, we were ready to commence the expedition. Our first day surpassed all hopes and expectations. We were joined by two friends, Alex and Spike, experienced kayakers who provided support through London and for the start of the Kent coast. All four of us were equally mesmerised by the sights we paddled past, starting with Westminster Bridge and the Houses of Parliament, followed by the London Eye, Tower Bridge (which opened just as we passed), and later the O2 Arena and the Thames Barrier. We all knew London well, but getting to experience our capital city from the perspective of a kayak on the river was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Kent
A few days after departing from London we found ourselves navigating around Kent. The first few days were balmy and calm, but no sooner had we waved farewell to Alex and Spike than the wind and waves picked up. We were then faced with almost a week of battling headwinds and tides, making us very glad for the time we had spent training on the sea on the Isle of Wight. Despite frustratingly slow progress (due in part to a whole day spent huddled in the safety of our tent as strong gusts threatened to flatten our canvas shelter) we eventually completed the coastal leg of our expedition. We crash-landed on our final beach as thick fog tumbled down over the white cliffs, an almost palpable sense of relief washing over us. After the ordeal around the coast, Kate and I couldn’t help feeling a little nervous about attempting to cross the English Channel. We need not have worried, however.
After a few days of waiting for the gale-force winds to die down, we received the all clear from the support crew at Full Throttle who were to escort us across the busiest shipping lane in the world. On the morning of our crossing, we were greeted with a glassy and still sea, the sun shining overhead and barely a breath of wind in the air. Paddling out of Folkestone Harbour, Kate and I observed how calm we felt about what we were about to do; any nerves we’d had earlier in the week had evaporated in the sunshine.
Just over five hours and 38km of paddling later we reached the French shores, shoulders aching and tired, but happy nonetheless. My dad was ready and waiting with a bottle of champagne on the beach, joined by a number of bemused French locals who had innocently been trying to enjoy a sunny Friday afternoon.
Calais Canal
It was only when we set off on the Calais Canal that it felt like our expedition was beginning in earnest. Until that point, we had been on relatively known territory in our home country. Those days were behind us now and we felt a mix of apprehension and excitement at the prospect of what was to come.
It wasn’t long before long we were fully in the swing of expedition life. Now over a month in, we’ve lost track of the number of nights we’ve spent sleeping head-to-toe in our tent, the mountains of pasta we’ve hungrily devoured at the end of a day of paddling, and the nettle-ridden banks we’ve awkwardly hauled our kayak up as we try to find a route around yet another lock.
Though the sun has continued to shine almost every day, there have been plenty of challenges to overcome thus far: coming to terms with an almost disturbing number of dead rats floating past us on French canals; the frequency of barges heavily laden with cargo, stretching up to 100 metres in length and creating wash that threatens to overturn us; the daily struggle of trying to find a suitable and subtle spot to pitch our tent so we can sleep peacefully, not to mention the locks.
Come what may, certain things can be relied upon to ensure the smiles rarely leave our faces. There’s the beauty of a peaceful evening spent paddling undisturbed along a pristine stretch of river, or the unquestioning generosity of locals who, though they may not fully understand what we’re doing or why, are determined to offer what assistance they can. This has come in the form of cold drinks on a hot day, food and snacks to replenish our energy, and on more than one occasion, a home to call our own for a few days.
friendship
However, throughout each day the aspect that brings us the most joy is our friendship. Despite initially coming together in an almost professional capacity as expedition teammates, Kate and I have found in each other someone with whom we can dissolve into fits of giggles in even the most dire of situations, or depend upon to whip out the chocolate when it’s most needed. The mutual trust and companionship is what makes the remainder of our expedition such an appealing prospect and gives us the confidence to tackle whatever may be thrown in our path.
