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Feature - April 2010
By Christopher Cunningham, Editor |
Freya Hoffmeister finished her circumnavigation of Australia on December 15, 2009, shortly after we went to press with our February issue. She landed at Queenscliff at the mouth of Melbourne, having covered 8,565 miles (13,790 km) in 245 days of paddling over her 332-day expedition.
I spoke to Freya after she had returned to her home in Husum, Germany.
The last time we spoke you had finished the last of the long cliffs and had less than 900 miles to go. How was the final leg of the circumnavigation?
I had Coorong Beach, 200 kilometers (124 miles) of beach where I had to go through big surf, especially on the first two landings. It was not much fun and quite scary to go through that stuff, but it was all right. I was lucky that the swell was not really up that much on that day when I started from Victor Harbor. This was actually the scariest part.
I couldn’t foresee that big strong wind, lasting almost five days, where I was paddling in a 20- to 25-knot following wind and quite big seas. But, this was all right as well; I’d just sit there and get blown forward without much paddling, but don’t think that it was easy balancing. With waves crashing on my back deck every minute, and I had to throw myself into it to stay upright.
I was quite scared of Coorong Beach because I’d read in Paul Caffyn’s book [Dreamtime Voyage] that he got trashed there and had some injuries on that beach upon landing. But I reckon he had much bigger swells than I had so I was quite lucky. I had swells that were less than one meter something. It was a big wide surf belt but without really violent crashing waves. It could have been much worse going in and going out again the next day. There were three days paddling that stretch. On the second day landing was quite easy, or relatively easy, and on the third day it was calm going past Kingston. But the first day landing and the second day launching was bloody scary. I managed, fortunately, without even capsizing. It was a really wide, wide belt—500 meters (547 yards) of surf, surf, surf. But as I said, the swell was relatively low. It could have been much trashier. I’m not that experienced in surf that much but I came in quite all right, with only some little wet high braces. The breaking out was wet. I got lots of water in my face, but I stayed upright and didn’t get washed back or looped. I was quite lucky. There were eight or nine lines of surf. They could have been higher, but I always had a second when I could wait for a wave in front of me to break. When it has broken you have to speed up over the crest, the foamy part, then the next one is coming up, you wait until it breaks. If there is a gap in between the waves and there are none breaking, I could do 100 meters (109 yards) all at once. It might then be breaking for 50 meters (55 yards) and then there’s a gap of 20 meters (22 yards), then another 30 meters (33 yards) of breaking and then another gap. You have to go slalom paddling through these gaps estimating when the next thing will break right in front of your nose.
It’s the same thing coming in. If you’re really able to avoid the lines of breakers and find the gaps in between, then you’re all right.
You did all this with a wing paddle, right?
All the time. Never, ever anything else. I’ve had one paddle on all of the trip and never needed to change it.
You’re comfortable doing high and low braces with the wing?
Oh yeah. No problem. Everybody asks about that, but what’s the problem? It’s even better with that little hooky edge. For sure if I would have to do correction strokes with the blade like a fine-tuning, behind-the-cross whatever, back rudder stroke (laughs)—I don’t even know the fancy names of all those strokes—it won’t work as perfectly as a flat blade, but you don’t need that if you paddle a boat with a rudder. Simple. I don’t need a fancy stroke that some coaches might be teaching (laughs). It’s like having 34 ways to roll. You don’t really need them; they just give you confidence. Sometimes you’ll get a bit more control if you’re able to do a stern rudder with the paddle, even if you have a rudder on your kayak, but it’s not always necessary. I got along well without doing stern rudders. I’m not that good at fancy strokes anyway. I never learned them properly; I never missed them and I’ve always used a wing paddle.
Beyond Coorong was it a pretty easy run to the finish at Queenscliff?
What does “pretty easy” mean? As I said, I had extremely strong winds for five days. In other situations, or if I had not gained so much experience from this long trip, I would have said I need to have a rest day today. The winds were mostly out of the perfect direction, but the sea was quite rough there day after day. I was getting blown in the right direction more or less, but eventually when I was heading into a sheltered landing around a headland I’d have to paddle for a bit against the wind. That was tough enough to finally reach shelter, the protection of the coast. I was out there and it was rough but it got me where I wanted to go and it got me there on time.
In the morning the wind started at 10 to 15 knots and then quickly rose up to 20 knots, reaching 25 knots in the afternoon, creating some quite big seas. It was OK. If I’d had the wind coming from the opposite direction and had to paddle against it, I probably would have been going crazy and would not have been paddling.
In that area the right wind direction and the following sea is relatively strong. Paul Caffyn had a similar time. Just read his book. He was able to describe the area more clearly. I was so tired and worn out every night I was not even able to update my account of the last few days. I just didn’t feel like writing about anything for the last several days. I will eventually, when I write my book. I’ll be able to remember it vividly. Right now I’m sitting here with closed eyes and I see myself paddling there.
How were you feeling on the very last day when you were paddling the last few kilometers into Queenscliff?
Basically tired, just finishing another day. I didn’t feel, amazingly, like I was finishing a whole big trip. I was just finishing the paddling day and it felt kind of funny to see all the people standing on the beach. I didn’t have a great feeling of “Oh, my God, I made it!” I wasn’t jumping for joy. For some reason that really didn’t happen. I could have kept paddling. I don’t know, maybe it’s not my personality to jump for joy. Maybe it was because I didn’t think to myself that it was not such great of an accomplishment. It was just a lineup of more or less tough and more or less long paddling days. Basically the whole thing was just a puzzle, a lot of little pieces put together to make a big picture. The big picture might look like quite an achievement, but if you split it up day by day it was just a lot of paddling days.
So I really didn’t have the feeling of a great accomplishment at that time. It was just “OK, I finished another paddling day and tonight there’s a reception.” I really had to force myself to smile and pose for a decent picture at the finish. I had to remember I needed to be professional and to look a bit happy about the whole thing and not like “So what.”
Given how you approached the trip, making the point that you were not going to try to do the circumnavigation, you were going to do it…
Exactly.
… so at the end it wasn’t a surprise to you that you had done it. It was what you had expected all along.
Oh yeah, exactly. That may be quite a good explanation. I was not surprised for myself that I had made it. I was always sure I was going to make it.
Were there any parts of the trip that changed you?
I don’t know. I probably gained some experience about how to paddle and about how to approach the weather, bearings, the tide and things like that.
Do you think that you’re the same person now that you were at the start?
I think so. Maybe I’m a bit more of a hermit than before, though I was never really a people’s person. Maybe I’ll get a bit more arrogant because I’m so famous now... (laughs). Someone at my last talk in Sydney said that I played the trip down and made it sound so easy, so I’m not making it up to be more than it should be or could be. For sure it was a long trip and was challenging, some sections more than others, but it was doable.
Do you think that anyone who might take on the circumnavigation has to have that kind of attitude in order to complete it?
Basically I can only say they should keep in mind that it has been done before. In my case it was Paul. It’s easier if you follow a trip that has been done before than if you are the pioneer. His achievement was different because [the circumnavigation] had not been done before. I was following in his footsteps. Anyone else who wants to do this trip just needs to remember that it has been done; it is not a new thing.
If I were to want to paddle around South America—something which has not been done before—it might be bit more tricky. Maybe I’ll do that. When I’m sixty—.
Your web site called the circumnavigation “The Race around Australia.” How much of a race was this after all? When Paul was paddling, doing the first circumnavigation, he wasn’t racing. You took almost three months of rest days. How important was the idea of a race?
It was basically racing against myself. If you do it fast, your body has way less rest, and you’re taking weather windows which are way more challenging. For sure I had the guideline of Paul’s trip. If I weren’t an ambitious person thinking to do the circumnavigation faster maybe I wouldn’t have been that motivated to do it in a decent time. I don’t know. I think people wouldn’t have even been that interested in it if I hadn’t called it a race. I think it was part of the attraction for people to follow the trip: “Can she be faster?” I’m not sure. Maybe.
You were the first woman to do the trip. That might have been enough to keep people interested.
Woman or not, well, I reckon, yeah. But still the factor of a race probably added to the thrill of the followers.
Yes, for the followers, but from your perspective, wasn’t getting around in a time faster than Paul’s simply a reasonable goal and not one that would push you too close to your limits?
Yes, it was a very reasonable goal—definitely because I did the crossing of the Gulf of Carpentaria. If I had not done the crossing it would have been very close and I might have found myself traveling at the very same speed as he did. If you really do the calculation, eliminating the part with the crossing, our progress was quite similar. It was a risk that included the number of days it would take me to recover and how many days I would have to wait for the weather for the crossing. It’s a tricky calculation to figure out how many days you can really save by doing the crossing. Basically we were on the same time table. You can’t paddle around the whole thing much faster—maybe you could if you were a great racing person carrying a light load.
I spent quite a lot of time on the water compared to Paul, I reckon. He was averaging a faster speed than I did. He had an empty boat most of the time, and I had an empty boat for the last weeks.
The main goal was to challenge myself. If I’d said the main goal was to enjoy the countryside, I would have taken three years. It was definitely the main goal to challenge myself and see what is possible for a tiny little human being like me.
If someone wanted to circumnavigate Australia in a faster time, what advice would you give them?
(Laughs) “Have a go and try.” I wonder if anyone has the stamina to do the whole thing again anytime soon or ever. It may take another 27 years. But maybe I’ve set something up that every now and then some guy will set up his own new “Race around Australia.” You never know. I wouldn’t mind. It would be kind of funny.
Ultimately people have to put good decision-making and seamanship ahead of racing.
Safety is one thing for sure. You have to be safe or you can’t complete the whole thing. People won’t remember attempting. They’ll remember finishing.
Christopher Cunningham is the editor of Sea Kayaker magazine.
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