Words:
Katie Annice Carr

PHOTOS:
Katie Annice Carr,
Mike Mayberry,
Nicky Mansell,
Julie Perren &
Saintha Alam

Katie Annice Carr

Thundery at Times: sea kayaking the Shipping Forecast (Part 2)

Avid readers of these pages may remember the article published in June 2023 (https://paddlerezine.com/toby-carr/) about my brother Toby Carr’s challenge to sea kayak the Shipping Forecast. Some of you may have read Moderate Becoming Good Later, the book I wrote about this based on his notes, photos, and extensive front-of-the-kayak GoPro footage, or perhaps you saw his story on the BBC Travel Show in 2024.

For those who haven’t, Toby was an advanced sea kayaker leader who, in three separate expeditions and some day paddles in between, kayaked in 17 of the 31 Shipping Forecast areas before he was thwarted by cancer and died aged 40 in January 2022. I was determined that his story was not to end there.

The idea of finishing Toby’s challenge
After a year researching, writing, and editing the book he intended to author, I was feeling confident and itching to get outside and give this sea kayaking lark a go. I’d paddled a sit-on-top in a French gorge and on a cold flat sea in Jersey, so the idea of finishing Toby’s challenge had nothing to do with any paddling skills I possessed. I knew I would have to learn along the way.

While this was daunting, it also felt possible, thanks to the community of sea kayakers I’d connected with and interviewed for the Moderate Becoming Good Later. It was these friends, acquaintances and Facebook users who I tapped up to help me complete the challenge.

One sunny January morning in 2023, my aunt Nicky Mansel, with help from Marc Martin in Palamós, got me in a sea kayak for the first time. I was pleased our short, fair-weather Mediterranean paddle was an enjoyable experience, because in my head, I’d already committed to kayaking the rest of the Shipping Forecast.

Toby, being my little brother, had left me all the cold, wet and windy bits, all of Ireland, Scotland, Wales and the Northeast of England. I knew it would be a very different experience from my urban Barcelona family life, but that was what made it so appealing, although I wasn’t up for taking any big risks.

I knew a lot about how Toby prepared for his trips, and it was clear that, like most sea kayakers I’ve met, he was careful, informed himself, and took calculated risks. For my part, I knew I would not be paddling alone: I would have to ask for help and rely on others.

To start with, I tentatively contacted Toby’s closest paddling allies, our aunt and uncle Nicky and Kevin, and his friends Michal, Natalie, Owen and Sarah. While Nicky helped me thrash out a general plan (which sea area, when), Kevin, Michal and Natalie supported me, and Sarah and Owen put me in contact with Katie (featured here) for my first paddle down the Bristol Channel from Clevedon.

I started out thinking finishing Toby’s challenge would be a joint effort, and in many ways it was, but I was surprised by the single-mindedness I needed to keep the paddles connected, reach out, and plan the next trip. I was very aware that many people also felt a Toby-shaped hole in their lives, and I wanted everyone who wished to be involved to feel welcome to join. For a long time, I felt guilty about being such a rubbish kayaker and about taking on his challenge, but I think he would have been pleased that I was on the water with his boat.

As I continued on to Pembrokeshire with Mike Mayberry and Anglesey with Toby’s friends Ali, Lindsey and Tom, it felt like I was already in a tide race and my only option was to keep paddling forward until I was through it. That said, my paddles through the Shipping Forecast over the year and a half it took me to finish were substantially more enjoyable than my accidental first experience of the outer Penrhyn Mawr.

Ireland
It was in Ireland, off Dalkey, with a group of kayakers from the East Coast Kayak Club, that the journey began to feel like my own. As I bagged my first ever island, ineptly dealing with the bumpy water, as a baby seal lounged on a rock close by, and sea birds I couldn’t name flew above my head. “How on earth did I get here?” I thought, not for the last time. Tenacity, logistics, encouragement, and a desire to feel closer to Toby were among the answers.

Toby had never paddled in Ireland, and his notoriety had seemingly not crossed the Irish sea. There was no friend of a friend to help me get on the water, and as the date of our ferry departure had drawn near, I’d woken up in the night worrying about how I was going to paddle in the five Shipping Forecast areas which touch Ireland: Irish Sea, Fastnet, Shannon, Rockall and Malin.

It was the Sea Kayak Ireland Facebook page that saved the day. I told my story and shared where and when I hoped to paddle, and suddenly I had offers of help from complete strangers across the country. Including Jon and Ruth, who I’ve featured. It was here that I realised people were helping me, not as Toby’s sister but as a kayaker on a challenge (albeit one with a bit of a story).

The weather turned out to be the biggest challenge in Ireland (which was no great surprise). For most of our stay, Met Éireann’s map showed the yellow small craft warning (meaning wind was above a F6) on all its shores, which one kayaker described as ‘the halo of Ireland’.

Each person I paddled with overcame the weather for me with a different creative solution. Sometimes we started somewhere very sheltered and slowly nosed out. Other times, we paddled in the wind and rain or rafted up with a sail. On occasion, we left at 06:00 in the morning to beat a brewing storm, or nipped out for a quick ‘mammy paddle’ between rain and commitments.

I left Ireland after paddling in each sea area and had a strong thirst for more time discovering its impressive coastline. Michal’s comment to Toby – written in his notes – came to mind, “You should always leave something to do for next time.” I’d left most of the country for next time, but I figured that was part of the deal when I decided to learn along the way.

Western Scotland
As I continued the challenge into Western Scotland that summer, I realised my paddling skills had improved. I was still far from Toby’s off-shore-island-visiting, tide-race-loving, long-distance kayaking. But paddling started to feel like something I did for me, not just for Toby. By the end of 2023, I’d bagged seven shipping forecast areas of my own.

I should clarify what ‘bagging’ a sea area means. Toby’s goal was simply to sea kayak in each forecast area. This did not require paddling the entire coastline or travelling between areas (though he sometimes did). Toby had also been unsure how to handle the four sea areas without land. After considering the possibilities, I decided not to pursue them due to safety and cost concerns. That left me with four more areas to finish in 2024.

I started the year thinking about giving up. My focus on Toby’s dreams had pulled me away from my own, created tension in my young family and put me into financial difficulties. I was torn between doing what I said I would do and the realisation that even if I completed it, Toby wouldn’t suddenly come back to life.

A freezing April day with the Lakeland Canoe Club in the shadow of Lindisfarne Castle reminded me how far I’d come. While a bright, challenging paddle further down the coast with Tynemouth Canoe Club into the Tyne reminded me that it was worth the effort. So, I pulled my wetsuit socks up and got on with paddling Forth, Cromarty and Fair Isle with differing degrees of success thanks to the wind.

Climbing a sea stack in Shetland
The finale of Toby’s challenge to sea kayak the Shipping Forecast was climbing a sea stack in Shetland and flying the flag with the logo he designed for his expeditions starting in 2018, long before the project became two books and a documentary.

It has been a special way of keeping Toby alive, if only in the pages of a book or a magazine. For his part, it feels to me as if Toby left me the breadcrumbs to connect with the sea kayaking community, who wholeheartedly supported my discovery of nature and this varied, mostly beautiful pastime. I feel enormous gratitude to Toby and everyone I’ve met along the way – I’m sorry I can’t mention you all here.

Thundery at Times, my memoir of this journey and what led to it, was published last month and is available in all good bookshops and online.

Interviews
I met so many brilliant paddlers on my adventures around the Shipping Forecast. Below you will find four interviews that I did with some of the people. The Q&As are about how challenging one’s self in different ways can develop you as a kayaker and a person. Hope you find them useful.

Lundy: Katie Wiltshier

Katie Wiltshier

Katie helped me get on the water in my first sea area, Lundy, with a group of kayakers from the Avon Outdoors Activities Club for a paddle down the Bristol Channel and back with the tide.

What is the most enjoyable kayaking challenge you’ve set yourself?
Paddling from Barra down the island chain to Barra Head on Berneray. We had perfect conditions; it was like a dream. Calculating the tides is a challenge; different things happen on the east and the west of the island – lots of tide races and whirlpools. And when you reach Barra Head, you know the next stop is America.

How did you start sea kayaking?
I was a whitewater paddler and a sailor before I started sea kayaking, so I understood the sea. I wanted to give something back to the club, and there were no sea kayak leaders, so I thought I’d give it a go.

To begin with, I was terrified of anything other than flat water, but I really wanted to take people out. I had a lot of encouragement and some great coaches.

In the early days, a friend set up a Facebook page for me called ‘Katie’s Sea Kayaking Adventures’, which helped me imagine what was possible. I eventually worked my way to Advanced Sea Kayak Leader, which previously seemed impossible.

What is it you love most about kayaking?
I love the freedom, just the feeling of being afloat, being in a special place with your friends and no one else. I love leading too: taking people out to islands and places they’d never otherwise visit. I’m lucky to have Dave Elkinton, who is an excellent coach and a really reliable second person to have on trips.

Where is your favourite place to paddle within 50 miles of where you’re based?
Lundy Island, its cliffs are so varied, you can expect seals and puffins, and when you land, it’s a nice place; there’s a community on the island. I solo paddled the three-hour (11 nautical mile) crossing, and when I landed, news travelled fast that the paddler had arrived.

I also enjoy paddling the Bristol Channel. Before lockdown, I would never have chosen it, but I came to appreciate it a lot in those pandemic years.

Fastnet: Jon Hynes

Jon Hynes

I met Jon at the Irish Sea Kayaking Association meet in Schull in 2023, but before that, he’d been instrumental in helping me connect with other Irish paddlers who could help me get on the water. Jon is a lynchpin of Irish (and to be fair, European) kayaking, as well as being a thoroughly nice bloke.

What is the most enjoyable kayaking challenge you’ve set yourself?
All solo paddling, where you stay overnight camping and are completely self-sufficient. You’re accountable for all your own decisions. You plan and prepare, then decide to pursue opportunities when they present themselves. I once decided to paddle the whole Cork coastline as fast as I could. I really enjoyed that challenge. I had paddled all the sections in previous trips, but linking them all together and going fast alone was a real buzz.

How did you start sea kayaking?
I was 11 years old, and my cousin James (two years older) was in K1 Kayak racing. I thought, “That looks fantastic, I’d love to give that a go.” I spent three months rolling in a swimming pool with my local club doing a course, then finally got on the sea. I’ve been paddling for over 40 years, and I still have the same energy and enthusiasm for it as on the first day.

I set myself the goal of becoming a Level 5 sea kayaking instructor as my zenith, and when I reached it, I realised it did not complete me. I’m ok with that this “incompleteness” keeps the appetite for learning, exploration, creativity, and humility alive.

What is it you love most about kayaking?
I love the challenge of finding the right way to help someone else make sustainable progress in kayaking, helping them see that they are improving and how to achieve their adventure dreams/goals. Over the years, I’ve given a lot of thought to how sea kayaking develops our self-leadership skills. It is the depth of your awareness, the quality of your decisions, and your willingness to learn from the sea. The ocean remains my greatest teacher.

Where is your favourite place to paddle within 50 miles of where you’re based?
The Old Head of Kinsale. I’ve done tonnes of trips there, and I never tire of it. During Covid, I spent four days discovering every nook and cranny, even though it had all been done before, just immersing myself in nature. The sea wears different clothes every day. We’re lucky to have world-class sea kayaking on our doorstep.

Shannon: Ruth Bracken

Ruth Bracken

I met Ruth when I was stormbound in Kilrush, where I almost paddled with her and Mike Conroy in a gale, but thought better of it at the last minute – not before Ruth had tested the waters for us all.

What is the most enjoyable kayaking challenge you’ve set yourself?
The first time I went from Kilkee on my own under the cliffs to Farrihy Bay and back, a total of 12km. I enjoy the challenge of paddling on my own sometimes – I’ve been doing it more lately, as I need to paddle at my own pace due to a shoulder problem. I also enjoy taking someone somewhere and taking on the responsibility.

How did you start sea kayaking?
I was a river kayaker when I lived in Dublin, paddling the Liffey and other rivers. Before that, I was a diver in my teens – always a water person. I did a five-day sea kayaking course with Stephen Hannon – an inspiring sea kayaker – island hopping and camping with a small group. I got more into sea kayaking, eventually making regular trips to the coast. I had a holiday cottage on the west coast, and when, because of the Covid pandemic, I had to come back from living abroad in Uganda, where I was a volunteer, I came to Clare and eventually decided to stay here.

What is it you love most about kayaking?
When you’re out there paddling for some time, and you take a moment to think, “Oh my God, look where I am! So many people never get to do this.” I recently went back to a nearby cave I’d explored with friends some years ago. It felt special to share the experience the first time, and when I went back and found it again recently, I thought, “Thank you, God, Dave and friends for bringing me here.”

I love that when you are out there in a group, it’s so individual, but you are also interdependent, looking out for each other and respecting each person’s enjoyment of the moment. Finally, there’s the feeling of planning everything thoroughly, then changing as necessary – which is a good skill for life.

Where is your favourite place to paddle within 50 miles of where you’re based?
Loop Head down through the gap (if you haven’t seen it, it’s a tall, layered cliff like a slice of cake with a piece cut out). Once you start, you have to keep going; there are no get-outs. It can be very challenging, too. I was there once with five other people, and as we came through the other end, smiling dolphins started leaping into the air, as if welcoming and applauding us.

Forth: Clare Eadie

Clare Eadie

I paddled with Clare under the Forth Rail Bridge as the wind increased and we continued braving the water for the BBC. She was a source of calm, competence at a moment when I struggled to even turn my boat.

What is the most enjoyable kayaking challenge you’ve set yourself?
At this stage in my life, I’m happy with who I am, so I don’t particularly feel the need to challenge myself other than to get out paddling as much as I can and to stay fit. I love going on trips and camping out in the kayak, so I want to do it for as long as I can. Of course, the weather and conditions can always be a challenge, and you just have to deal with them.

How did you start sea kayaking?
It was 10 or 11 years ago; a friend asked me to come along and paddle a dragon boat with her group. I really enjoyed it and ended up signing up for the paddle ports club at Port Edgar. They were looking to fill the last spots on an Introduction to Sea Kayaking course and offered it at half price. So, between my canny nature and the fact that I didn’t have plans that weekend, I signed up and never looked back. Then I joined the Lothian Sea Kayak Club.

Due to a previous shoulder injury, I’ve never risked learning to roll, which has prevented me from progressing through the sea kayak award levels, so I see myself as a competent peer paddler but not a leader. I contribute to planning, and I’m happy to get on the water and support others who do the same.

What is it you love most about kayaking?
Being on the water, sitting in a kayak, is the perfect place to be. I love that camaraderie with others, seeing such nice things – the coastline, the wildlife. Being with like-minded people and going to lovely places where no one else is around.

Where is your favourite place to paddle within 50 miles of where you’re based?
Can we extend that to 90 miles? If so, I’d say the Island of Bute over on the Clyde Coast. We’re lucky in Scotland to have lots of islands to paddle around. I love Lismore too, north of Oban – I’ve been there often, and it’s always nice going back to the same places; they always look different, and you see things you haven’t seen before. Of course, over in the east, we also have North Berwick and out to the Bass Rock, but I’d much rather drive an hour longer and be out on the west coast.