March - Ribble Canoe Club

NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2003 

Go West, Young 

Man, Go West… 

Tony Morgan 

7th July 2000 had me flying to the west coast of 

America to start an 8 week holiday: what it actually 

started was three years of back and forth travelling, 

paddling, and travelling and living in the land of the 

free. 

My travels, in no particular order, had me Canoe 

tripping in the Alaskan wilderness near the Arctic 

Circle, covered in a bug net, armed with a pump action 

shotgun as bear defence. Solo paddling class 4 rivers 

in British Columbia, camping among the rattlesnakes 

in Southern Oregon, launching in 9 inches of snow on 

the Rogue river, returning from Lewis and Clark’s 

“River of No Return” in Idaho. Paddling with US 

Olympic Paddlers, careering down the 200ft per mile 

gradient of Washington White Salmon, sub zero 

paddling in the rain forests of the Olympic Peninsula 

and gorges of Southern Oregon. Tarmac melting heat 

of California’s Trinity valley, 5 days of solid white 

water on the Smith River system amongst towering 

Redwoods. Paddling from the end of the apartment 

garden to downtown Portland, hitching up and down 

the Clackamas valley after paddling alone, driving 9 

hours to the river, shuttling cars 250 miles to the take 

out, launching over drops just to get a picture, having 

a 40th birthday on the river. 

And it wasn’t all paddling, it was riding a Harley down 

the Pacific Coast Highway, hiking in Yosemite, sailing 

in San Francisco Bay, shooting semi-automatic rifles 

in Oregon, skiing Mount Hood, rock climbing in 

Joshua Tree, canoe surfing at San Diego. 

It was cold beer, pot luck suppers, moose stakes, pick 

up trucks, hugging and hollering, corned beef hash for 

breakfast, campfires, cougars, bears, coyotes, buffalo, 

bold eagles, humming birds and rivers of salmon. Hot 

tubbing on the deck and hot springs under the stars, 

more beer, living in the woods, driving miles and miles 

on dirt roads, wall to wall sunshine, deep, deep snow, 

ice caves and more than I could ever explain here, 

“just do it” as they say. 

Here’s a little bit of how it started, the rest will 

probably stay in my head and the hundreds of slides 

lying around the house…

Page 2 November/December 2003 

Umpqua River and McKenzie River 

– Oregon 

It was like Mission Impossible without the 

music. 

Ring, Ring, “yes, call this number, next 

Thursday, for the details, beeeeeeeeeeep.” 

Next Thursday arrives. Ring, Ring “yes, go to 

Susan Creek campground, 8.30am, look on 

the notice board for instructions, 

beeeeeeeeeeep”. 

It all started in England several months before 

with an email to a paddler in California, now 

I’m camping below the freeway at Roseburge, 

entrance to the Umpqua valley and ultimately 

my rendezvous, in 12 hours, with the 

noticeboard and hopefully the email recipient. 

Hang on, did he say camping below the I5 

freeway, the main north, south, 24 hours a 

day, transport artery for the West Coast? 

Will that not be a less than ideal place to gain 

rest and relaxation before a week long white 

water paddling feast? Will it not be loud, very 

loud? Actually, not if you’re 70 years old and 

have your own custom moulded earplugs, 

which is the only way to describe the rest of 

the ‘campers’. 

Then I’m naked, stood in bright sunshine, on 

the top of a rock outcrop, miles from home, 

with two other, equally naked people… meet 

Thad and Ilse. Wow, paddling in the States is 

going to be, well, different! It wasn’t quite 

like that, there was breakfast in the Steamboat 

diner and a walk to the hot spring, but even so 

I had only met them an hour ago and we were 

in the buff. We soaked in the hot spring, 

looking out over the valley and got to know 

each other even better, obviously. 

I fulfilled neither of the criteria, but the 

consolation was that I didn’t get chance to 

over-sleep, in fact I didn’t get chance to sleep. 

From the campground travelling east you 

soon get to look at the river narrowing into a 

beautiful gorge as you get closer to the 

campground. There it is, Susan Creek, swing 

in round a few bends and almost run over the 

noticeboard as my head swivels left to right 

into each camp spot looking for boats. 

No note, aargh! 

Not to worry, I spot some boats and head for 

them, the owners head my way, brief 

introductions, quick discussion about securing 

more camping spots for the yet to arrive 

‘others’. 

Apparently they were the advance party, sent 

to secure camping spots for the other 20-odd 

that would arrive later in the day from 

California. A quick detour to check out a 

stunning double drop waterfall formed by a 

collapsed basalt lava tube was followed by 

more food at Diamond Lake before heading 

back to camp. The invasion had begun, two 

Californian paddling clubs, POST and Six 

Rivers, had headed north for their annual 

vacation, and when they vacate they do it in 

style. Trailer of boats, minibus, and camp 

kitchen with all the bits needed to seat, feed 

and clean up for all 23 of us. And the food!!! 

More introductions, nobody had a clue what 

language I was speaking but we were hugging 

www.ribblecanoeclub.co.uk

November/December 2003 Page 3 

and smiling - we did however keep our 

clothes on this time. So this was the deal, I 

had cold called by email Eric and Joann and 

they invited me along saying I could borrow 

their boats, chip in for my share of the food, 

gas (oh sorry petroleum) and camp fees. 

Although I didn’t think about it at the time it 

struck me now that we resembled a travelling 

circus rather than a canoe club, we had the 

large vehicles, big tents, the clowns (you 

know who you are), glamorous daredevil 

ladies, no safety net, and the circus master: a 

man around who things happened - meet Don. 

Don was the axis upon which our little planet 

was spinning: a man who said “jump” and we 

said “how high?” 

So here I was, lounging around, having an 

after dinner wine, rather than a whinge, and 

signing up on the work rota for washing up, 

does it get much better than this? Actually it 

does and very quickly if you’re the first one 

down Boulder Drop on the Umpqua. I knew I 

could do this, but a nagging voice kept 

reminding me of my reputation for disaster, 

especially in borrowed boats. Here I was in 

Joann’s brand new Dagger Ovation heading 

down the drop with an audience of new found 

friends checking I could do the right, left, left, 

right, right, left move I’d explained, and miss 

the magnetic rock which was calling my 

name. Don’t you love it when a plan comes 

together? Pool drop is how the book describes 

it, pool drop it was, the drops were never hard 

but usually interesting and the pools, wow! 

The water was so clear and the valley scenery 

was almost too perfect, rock walls and towers 

draped in trees, oh yeah, and sunshine. 

We were all in open boats, something I found 

a novelty, and usually being a lone single 

blader among the plastic maggots (kayaks, it’s 

an American thing!). We weren’t the only 

ones in the group on the water that day; the 

others had gone for an easier section. This 

would be the usual game plan because the 

group was mixed in ability and in age, from 

Jacob who was 18 months old to Winni who 

was 75 years young. Back to camp, animated 

talking, lots of eating, nightcap, zip chorus 

and bed. 

Zip chorus became an art form by the end of 

the week, we had to squeeze the tents close 

together to save space and some people 

insisted on promoting insomnia with 

excessive zip abuse. Obviously the culprit 

would like to remain anonymous, but we 

know it was you Joan. Anyway it became a 

bedtime ritual to play a tune with the tent 

zips, this fulfilled Joan’s obsessive, 

compulsive behaviour deformity and we 

actually got quite good at it; Gordon had great 

vibrato. Not so much a quartet as a quar-tent, 

with such favourites as zip-ody-doo-da. It also 

helped mask the noise of Bonnie’s snoring for 

a while. Whether the rest of the camp site 

agreed is still unknown, but it puts the term 

‘gun control’ into a whole new light, as no 

late night shots headed in our direction. 

So this was the daily deal, the breakfast crew 

would cook American breakfast for all of us 

at 7:00. This consisted of foodstuffs that were 

not normally on the same supermarket shelf 

let alone the same plate. Whoever originally 

designed this breakfast had some sort strange 

food association dyslexia: sausage and syrup, 

come on! Or maybe it was like this: The first 

pioneers landing in America and someone 

saying “What’s for breakfast?” Imagine the 

scene, your mother’s thousands of miles away 

eating gruel in the industrial revolution; she 

can’t say “we usually have porridge and 

sawdust”. So they go ahead and invent an 

“anything you want, no rules from your past” 

meal. Welcome the American break-feast. It 

is a work of genius, it didn’t taste good… it 

was great! No way was I going to admit to 

surviving on cornflakes, skimmed milk and 

weak coffee for 37 years, I kept my mouth 

shut and mixed my foodstuffs, the king is 

dead long live the king. 

After breakfast my ‘team’ and I would do the 

washing up in several buckets, this was like a 

production line, dirty pots would enter one 

end and sparkle at the other, cold soak, hot 

rinse, hot water and soap, hot water bleach, 

cold rinse, at least that was the plan. For me 

getting the buckets in the right order everyday 

was like sitting my school exams three times 

a day. Luckily I could cheat by asking those 

who were bucket savvy the answer, then bask 

in the knowledge of good grades. Dinner was 

a self assembly job of various bread, meat or 

cheese of your choice, salad, spreads, cookies, 

chips, nuts, juice, fruit, the list went on and so 



did the food, all laid out and filling each side 

of the 15’ long boat trailer - 10 yards of food! 

And here’s the wild part it: was still only 

9:00am, 23 people fed, dinner made, cleaned 

up and ready for the river. 

Evening meal was usually nibbles to start 

while we (non-cooking rota types) sat 

drinking cold beer and wine watching the 

dinner crew creating gastronomic miracles 

and even desserts. The clean up crew then 

sprung - or staggered - into action with the 

bucket test, before evening cocktails, 

exaggerated stories of the day's activity and 

the zip concerto. 

So it went on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, 

paddling each day, usually two groups on 

different stretches. A highlight for most was 

the Steamboat rapid section, on this day a few 

people were pushing their grade, we had a 

couple of swims, some more dramatic than 

others. Those wanting to avoid the hardest 

rapid walked around while I did a sort of valet 

service bringing boats down a sneak route on 

river right - no charge obviously as I didn’t 

have a work visa. Did I mention the raft? This 

was a sort of aquatic crèche, all the kids (did I 

mention the kids?) would travel in this with 

Charlie, Marcus or equally responsible adult 

(ha, ha if only) at the oars, like martinis they 

would return shaken but not stirred. The raft 

was usually on the easier trip and as I had 

spent most time on the frothier stuff I 

volunteered to go with the gremlin group, as a 

sort of “Trip Leader”. This grand title was 

later translated to “the one to go first and 

point out what not to hit, then be used as 

target practice for the gremlins and the arsenal 

of water propelling apparatus”. On the biggest 

rapid of the day I was treated to watching Ilse, 

a self confessed beginner, invent a new line 

down the rapid, mind over matter, she didn’t 

mind and the rocks didn’t matter. It was a 

great trip, floating, swimming, rapids and I 

got chance to reverse the big V8 Dodge van 

with the trailer on. What more do you want? 

Oh yes, there was sunshine. 

Then back to the campground and the food 

fest. It isn’t all paddling though, the 

campground has an amphitheatre used for 

evening lecture by the rangers, and they also 

do guided walks in the area detailing flowers, 

fauna and wildlife. On the subject of wildlife 

the gremlins had a great interest in this 

subject and would regularly turn up with a 

hostage from the forest such as a giant 

Banana slug, various lizards and snakes. 

There was an audible hiss/croak/squelch of 

relief when they finally left. However they 

did find two very nervous, starved, and stray 

kittens, started feeding and eventually caught 

them. This led to Eric, Joann and Amy taking 

the kittens to the animal shelter on the way to 

the McKenzie River. Eric was obviously an 

animal lover; he had his faithful hound with 

him and was always calling its name, 

Nomoojinono. It took a couple of days before 

I realised the truth, No, Mooji, No, NO!... 

apparently some dogs are not as obedient as 

others. One of the ‘others’ was Chuck and 

Jan’s hound, which was simply called Raven, 

who patiently absorbed all the stick prodding 

and tail pulling that young Jacob supplied 

without eating him and his sticks. I later 

found out that this dog had the distinction of 

having a home brewed cider named after him. 

On a subsequent visit I was offered 

Ravensdrool cider, which I assumed was a 

Bavarian traditional drink. Only when I saw 

the picture on the label, of Raven, tongue 

lolling out and dripping spittle did the penny 

drop. Ahhh, Ravens Drool, very droll. There 

is also lovely walking along the Umpqua and 

a long distance path follows a hundred miles 

through pristine forests and glades. You could 

access this from the camp and have an 

evening stroll if you had any energy left. 

Mid week and it was up roots and head west 

to the highway, north to the next valley and 

east up the McKenzie valley, to where else 

but Paradise. 



Welcome to Paradise, this was the campsite 

for the second half of the week, on the banks 

of the fast and cold McKenzie River, which 

cooled Chuck and Jan’s beer to perfection. 

With our, or rather their, military efficiency 

(some may have been related to Roman 

Legionnaires, they even had the sandals) the 

camp was up in a jiffy and before I knew it 

we were loading Bob’s huge pickup and 

heading to put in upstream. The water here is 

different than its southern neighbour, it’s fast 

- like 6-7mph fast - and cold. Like, “Bloody 

hell that’s freezing!”, and it keeps going down 

hill, not in boulder rapids more small drops, 

standing waves. Not too hard to paddle but 

not too pleasant to swim if it went a bit pear 

shaped, there’s only a few eddies to stop in 

and collect the bits. Luckily our bits stayed in 

place all the way to the take out, a fast blast. 

As if there wasn’t enough joy in my world 

Ilse found a hotpool right by the river, coming 

out of a small cave. Evening soaks in 102 

degrees followed a plunge in the cold river 

not 6 feet away. Taking care not to lose your 

footing and get swept down the McKenzie at 

6-7mph - a hypothermic aquatic streaker. 

More paddling followed, the valley not as 

open as the Umpqua would pass by at a rate 

of knots in a tunnel of trees, mist rising off 

the water in the mornings. Ten miles would 

fly by in no time. Evening trips further afield 

to another hot springs at Cougar reservoir, 

proved to be time well spent. Here a staircase 

of hot pools dropped down a small gorge, 

hottest at the top cooling lower down, take 

your pick. 

Before you know it the breakfast crew had 

sizzled their last sausage and it was time to 

go. Some left on Saturday morning facing a 

long drive south to California; those of us 

staying for the night waved them off and went 

for a walk. The destination was the waterfalls 

near the source of the McKenzie, here the 

river tumbles over several big drops most of 

which have been paddled, but you have to 

wonder how. The most noticeable thing is the 

cold coming off the water, buckets of it, rising 

up and out of the gorge into the trees. Then 

there were two, only Ilse and I were left, I had 

no need to return to Portland until Tuesday so 

of I went to the phone box and called another 

paddler I’d never spoke to before. Twenty 

minutes later a smile had returned, next 

morning I’d meet a group of paddlers, doing a 

lower section of the McKenzie and although I 

had no boat they would very kindly lend me a 

Dagger Atom for the day. “Have a nice day.” 

What followed was a day’s paddling, a new 

group of paddlers to confuse with my accent, 

a Mexican meal, bed for the night, breakfast 

(not quite the standard I had become 

accustomed to, but acceptable). 

At breakfast Dave was a little slow 

announcing that I could “help myself to 

things to eat”: at this stage I already had my 

arms deep in the cupboards, like a 

gastronomic gynaecologist. Dave then 

announced that “this was a relaxed and 

informal house”. His next comments didn’t 

quite confirm this though, as I was asked to 

“move from my chair” before being told to 

“use the napkin” and “you’ve got my cup”. 

Win friends and influence people… I’m 

working on it! 

The morning’s events did however give me an 

early start, travelling to the canoe shop, 

owned by Jim. With a big wave I left, 

knowing I was unlikely to ever be invited 

back. 

The canoe shop in question didn’t open till 

10:00 and it was not quite 8:30 when I 

arrived. Only one thing to do in this situation: 

cleansing and grooming. Off to the laundry 

and join the Mexican women doing there 

Monday morning detergent thing. Using the 

car as a drying horse for all the paddling gear 

and keeping an eye on my drying cycle I relax 

with a book and the great smell of Daz. 

Next stop the barbers, adjacent to the still 

unopened canoe shop: in the chair, off with 

the hair. This included a neck shave with a 

cutthroat razor and liberal doses of a menthol 

liquid that made my neck go all prickly - 

anyone who has ever had a petrol syphoning 

adventure go wrong will be familiar with the 

prickle. 

So with squeaky clean clothes, a big white 

line indicating the outline of my previous 

hairstyle and a neck smelling of nasal spray, I 

march into the shop, dollars in hand, speaking 



an unknown language wanting to buy some 

plastic. The plastic in question is a Dagger 

Quake. I paddle it on the canal next to the 

shop, and do the deal. Jim lets me cut and 

glue foam in and play around with it which 

takes me most of the day. Some customers 

think I’m an employee and ask the price of 

things, I just say help yourself everything is 

free today. If they knew what I was saying 

they may have laughed as much as me, 

instead they just smiled. 

I can’t take the boat away because the hire car 

has no roofrack but I intend to solve that the 

next day and collect it on my return south. 

Have boat will travel. Did I mention the sun 

was shining? 

[This is only one of many stories which Tony 

has sent me: if I’d printed them all there 

wouldn’t have been any room for anything 

else! The stories will continue in future issues 

– MS] 

Seaquest 

A search for Adventure! 

September 13th 2003 

A combination of high tides, sunny weather, a 

light breeze and over forty entries contributed to 

the success of this inaugural event on the River 

Wyre. Outdoor Adventure Group from the 

Blackpool area had originally proposed a single 

event of 22km taking in a dozen checkpoints 

(orienteering style) and aimed at the sea kayak / 

marathon paddler but also laid on a shorter 16km 

distance in response to requests from local 

paddlers who wanted to participate in a 

competitive event. 

The Mayor and Mayoress of Fleetwood, Mr and 

Mrs. Leadbetter, started off the 16km event to 

Stanah and back, and then set competitors off on 

the 22km event to Shard Bridge. A rush to locate 

checkpoints and punch route cards ensued with 

paddlers arriving from various points of the 

compass. The course was set out in order to take 

advantage of the rising and falling tide which 

appeared to be a successful plan, although the 

leaders set an aggressive pace in an attempt to 

prove the race organiser wrong. 

J. Willacy set out to show that his journey to 

Fleetwood had not been wasted by covering the 

22km in under two and a half hours and was 

followed by paddlers supporting the event from 

local, Lakeland and Rutland Water clubs. 

Two solo open boaters closed the event in a 

breeze-affected four hours and all competitors 

received a welcome stick of rock on their return 

to the finish. Many of the visitors used the 

weekend to visit the sights of Fleetwood and 

further afield, and some enjoyed a walk along 

Blackpool promenade to view the Illuminations. 

Our thanks to all who supported the event, keep 

a space in your diary for Saturday 18th 

September 2004. See you then. 

22km Men 

1 st J. Willacy 2:24:00 

2 nd M. Mills 2:44:12 

3 rd M. Huddlestan 2:45:28 

22km Ladies 

1 st K. Simpson 3:02:41 

2 nd C. Pittendriegh 3:35:26 

3 rd H. Jeffries 3:41:00 

16km 

1 st D. Eldershaw 2:49:23 

2 nd C. Brazenhall 2:55:13 

3 rd R. Land. 2:55:32 

My sincere thanks to all who assisted in making 

this event such a success. Many thanks to John 

and Susanne for their administrative duties 

during the event and special thanks to Mereside 

Youth Club for manning the Shard, Knott End 

and Wardley checkpoints. 

Pete Roscoe 



AGM 2003 

Notice is hereby given that the Ribble Canoe Club AGM will be held on Thursday 26 th February 

2004 at 8:00pm at Fulwood Leisure Centre. 

This meeting is open to every Club member and is your opportunity to raise any issues you may 

have about the Club, its organisation and the way you want the Club to be run in future. Items of 

discussion for inclusion on the Agenda and proposals for new committee members are therefore 

invited and should be notified in writing to the Hon. Secretary, Martin Stockdale no later than 31st 

December 2003. 

Current Committee members are: 

Chairman Terry Maddock * 

Secretary 

Martin Stockdale 

Treasurer 

John Kington 

Competition Secretary Vacant 

Quartermaster 

Steve Swarbrick 

General Committee 

Co-opted during 2003 

Resigned during 2003 

Tom Byrne 

Peter Jones 

Tim Langridge 

Brian Woodhouse 

Jacky Draper 

Maria Parkes 

Dave Ellison 

Michael Moul 

Tony Moul 

Chris Porter 

Those marked * are due to retire by rotation (every 2 years) and being eligible offer themselves for 

re-election. 

The General Committee propose the following members for election onto the general committee: 

Jacky Draper 

Maria Parkes 

Proposals for the role of Competition Secretary, as well as any other proposals for committee 

members are most welcome and should be notified to Martin Stockdale as described above. 

Agreement will then be sought at the AGM. 

The full Agenda for the AGM will be posted in the January edition of the newsletter. 



Macclesfield 

Revisited 

Sunday 28th September, 2003 

Paddlers: Tom and Robert Byrne, Clive 

and Janet Robinson, Janet Porter, Hazel 

Gilkes and Helen James. 

The somewhat reduced numbers on this trip 

were due to a combination of illness, late 

holidays and other commitments. 

We paddled on the Macclesfield Canal in a 

northerly direction last year during some 

pretty cold weather. This time we started once 

again at Whitley Green but turned south. 

Having found a perfectly good canal side car 

park we might as well make use of it 

especially as there are no locks for at least 

eight miles. The weather was bright and 

sunny when we set off although there were 

some chunky looking clouds on the horizon. 

As it turned out these never really bothered 

us, we had a little drizzle but on the whole 

most of us kept warm. 

kayaks. I think we got in the way a bit: do we 

care? Not much. 

Shortly after setting off we came to the first of 

the three mills we were to pass today all of 

which were built at about the same time as the 

canal. One was a textiles mill, one a silk mill 

and the last the old Hovis mill; all have been 

beautifully restored though now fulfil new 

functions. 

Getting into the boats at Whitley Green was 

interesting. The canal side here is quite high, 

several of us were stung on nettles, there were 

a lot of moving narrow boats and some sort of 

canoe marathon was going on with folk 

breaking the speed limit in double racing 

The canal is fairly overgrown considering the 

amount of traffic that uses it making it narrow 

in places. Whilst this could be a bit of 

nuisance when boats approached from the 

opposite direction it did give it a wilderness 

feel – or it would have done if it hadn’t been 



for the Sunday afternoon dog walkers on the 

towpath and the nearby noise of model 

aircraft. 

The canal skirts round to the east of 

Macclesfield so never gets very urbanised; 

there was some litter but not much and a 

couple of kids on one of the bridges threw a 

handful of grit at one of the boats but on the 

whole it was ok. We were still right on the 

edge of town when we stopped for lunch at 

Holland’s Bridge. 

Once again this was one of those flat 

water/touring trips where not much happened. 

Speaking personally I prefer it that way, I 

have reached an age now when I realise that 

life’s short, why shorten it? The picnic, 

however, was memorable. 

of course, the horse bit him on the backside. 

Luckily for him the only thing injured was 

Robert’s pride as he was wearing his old 

canoeing shorts and the horse’s teeth just 

bounced off – we feel neoprene now has a 

new selling point. 

As we were getting back into our boats a 

nearby householder called over to us and 

offered us a canoe that she had found 

abandoned some months ago. We didn’t even 

ask to see it; I don’t know how she thought 

we would get it back. So if anyone wants a 

free boat, the woman in the house opposite 

the field with the white horse near bridge 39 

on the Macclesfield Canal has got one. We 

promised we’d pass the message on. 

Today’s was a very leisurely trip but Robert 

began to feel the cold so shot off to the get out 

and then sat on the edge of the canal getting 

colder while he waited for the rest of us. 

All the fishermen we saw today were 

politeness itself. We saw four little boys 

fishing, one of whom only had a little stick 

with a bit of line tied to it; I wonder if he 

caught anything. I once heard of a child 

catching a salmon on the Conwy using this 

method so it does sometimes work. (I know 

the man who rescued him!) 

Robert befriended a white horse, nicknamed 

Shergar (though I felt it had more of a look of 

Desert Orchid), which lived in the field 

alongside the towpath at our picnic site. He 

sat on the wall and fed it salt and vinegar 

Pringles. I did try to warn him that this thing 

had a mouth like a piano keyboard and bigger 

teeth than a shark but Robert seemed to think 

that it had characteristics similar to those of a 

kitten. As soon as the food stopped coming, 

The get out was as interesting as the get in. It 

was a good job there were a few people on the 

bank to help us, there were no swims but it 

was a close call. After collecting a few 

conkers in the car park it was off to the 

Windmill for rehydration before the journey 

home. 

Janet Porter 

Weil’s disease 

Peter from UK Canoes saw the two people 

involved in the local outbreak last month - 

one still looked distinctly yellow. 

It is very much up to the individual to decide 

whether to paddle, as well as take precautions 

- shower after using the Lune/canal, cover up 

open skin, no rolling/capsize drill etc 

Please contact Laurence or Peter at UK 

Canoes on 01254 388850 to check on the 

latest situation. 



Sea Scouts out & about… 

Cast: Young people various and several Sea 

Scout leaders 

Why is a Sea Scout troop featuring in the 

Ribble Canoe Club newsletter? Well, we have 

been affiliate members for a couple of years 

after Martin Stockdale persuaded us it would 

be a “good idea”. Since then several of our 

Scouts attended the beginners course in the 

pool, I have tried the rolling course and we 

have received coaching from Dave Ellison 

and 1* assessment from Terry Maddock. We 

have recently discovered the delights of the 

‘open’ sessions at Fulwood pool. 

What have been the highlights so far? Daniel 

Stockdale performing a variety of rolls to 

impress a visiting Royal Navy Officer is 

pretty high on the list. Out of 31 Scouts, 16 

have passed the 1* BCU test and two of them 

have higher awards. With the adults we have 

available, we have also helped at Fylde Scout 

District and West Lancashire Scout County 

events. Spending money on new equipment is 

nice – last year we bid for a grant from LCC 

and were successful. Putting on boating 

sessions for other Scout troops has been 

appreciated. 

What else have we done connected to 

canoeing? We meet in the summer at 

Fairhaven Lake in St. Anne’s and the Scouts 

take part in kayaking training and activities 

(and pulling, sailing and safety boat work). 

The leaders in charge of each activity have 

various qualifications and we have several 

very helpful parents on hand as well. 

During the rest of the year we take Scouts up 

to the Water Activities Centre at Moor Crag 

and have a good paddle on Windermere. We 

have also visited the Royal Navy training 

facilities at Portsmouth harbour where we 

stay on a Type 82 destroyer and take part in a 

wide range of Sea Scout activities. 

Is there a downside? Capsizing in Fairhaven 

Lake is not great especially with 6 inches of 

unmentionable black mud at the bottom. We 

have felt frustration at not being able to 

develop our own skills and those of the 

Scouts. We have to cope with an incredible 

variety of gear – ‘no two boats the same’ used 

to be our motto. The cost of boat hire at some 



of the campsites and centres we have been to 

can be prohibitive. 

What’s next? A river trip for some of the 

adults and more experienced Scouts would be 

good. I would like to aim for my 3* test. 

More visits to the open sessions are planned 

as everyone enjoyed the Friday nights in 

September and October. Keeping it fun for 

everyone has been important and long may it 

continue. 

Paul Andrew 

Scout Leader 

1st Lytham St. Anne’s (St 

Cuthbert’s) Sea Scout Troop. 

New club members 

Well, that might be pushing the point a bit! 

I’m sure that everybody will be pleased to 

hear that Andy and Michelle Rushton have a 

new son, Stuart Matthew, who was born on 

Wednesday, 15th Oct, at 10:20am, weighing 

8lb 8oz. The birth was by elected cesarean 

section so it was a very traumatic experience 

for Andy, though Michelle thought it was 

easy! 

Also, Simon and Catherine Cole have a new 

baby girl – I’m afraid I don’t know her name 

or the details. 

Our best wishes go to both sets of parents. I’ll 

be expecting membership forms for the 

children as soon as possible! 

If anybody is wondering about the relevance 

of the photo to this article, the answer is – 

none whatsoever, I just thought it was a rather 

nice shot of Daniel, Helen James, and Steve 

Swarbrick on the Greta last Sunday. A report 

will hopefully follow next issue. 

155 Shakespeare Street, Southport, PR8 5AN 

T el / Fax: 01704 501818 



Chairman's Chat 

Wrong again! In the last edition I opined that 

the summer was over. I'm sat here on 12 

November with the mid-day sun streaming 

through the windows and bird song bubbling 

through the open door. The brambles covering 

my future garden are full of flowers again and 

bright blue combs of vetch adorn the hedge 

on the lane outside. And no, I haven't 

emigrated. Global warming? – great isn't it! 

Halton (on the River Lune at Lancaster) 

began with a vengeance. Our first Sunday saw 

a very low water level at 11:00 am rising later 

to force us off the water (all but a hardy few) 

at 1:00 pm. The level must have risen by 4 

feet (1.2m) over less than an hour. It was 

interesting to note that an early sign of the rise 

came in the form of twigs, leaves, branches 

and then tree trunks swept down on the front 

of the "flood" wave. The second Sunday had 

the level back down again to even lower than 

at the start of the first. Nevertheless a good 

time was had by the many paddlers there and 

a lot of learning went on. The dribbling scores 

of several beginners/intermediates are getting 

a last minute boost before the book closes on 

31 December. The fight for the d'Ribbler's 

Award is hotting up. 

Of course, November signalled the opening of 

access on most canoeing rivers and all we 

need now is the rain to wash us down them. 

Keep an eye on the calendar and ring up the 

contact if you want to go on a trip or if you 

want advice on whether the trip is suitable for 

you. I have annotated trips as Flat, Moving or 

White Water. Moving Water will usually be 

Grade 1 or 2 with White Water Grade 3 or 

over. Don't forget though that water level can 

completely change the Grade of a river so you 

could be encouraged to go on a trip and then 

advised against it on the day. 

It appears that the North West Junior League 

for canoe polo has not survived this year, so 

Jacky is concentrating the club’s junior 

competition activities on slalom for the 

coming season with an intention to review 

junior polo for next autumn. 

Please make a note in your diaries of the 

club's Annual General Meeting on Thursday 

26 February 2004. It's a social event as well 

as dealing with the formalities (which are kept 

to a minimum). The food is greatly subsidised 

by the club and the following awards are 

presented:- 

• The Driftwood Trophy awarded to the 

member whose paddling ability has 

improved the most during the last year. 

Current holder: Tony Davis. 

• The Competition Trophy awarded to the 

member who has performed the best in 

competition during the last year. Current 

holder: The Junior Polo Team. 

• The Junior Challenge Trophy awarded to 

the member under the age of 18 who has 

achieved the most in the past year, be it in 

improved paddling ability or competition. 

Current holder: Richard Draper. 

• The Author of the Year Trophy awarded 

to the writer of the best newsletter article 

in the last year. Current holder: Janet 

Porter. 

• The Philip Singleton Memorial Trophy 

awarded for contributions to the club. It is 

not awarded every year, only when the 

committee feel that a club member has 

made significant contributions to the club 

which should be recognised. Current 

holder: Steve Wilkinson. 

• The d’Ribbler Trophy awarded to the 

member who gains the most swimming 

points during the year as recorded by Tom 

Byrne. Current holder: Daniel Stockdale. 

It could be yooooooooooouuuu – so come 

along and find out. 

In the meantime for incorrigible socialites 

there's the Christmas Do at Ferrari's, Thornley 

near Longridge. If you haven't yet booked 

with Ian McCrerie - there's still just time. 

Terry Maddock 



PARTY 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!NEW VENUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

WITH RIBBLE 

CHRISTMAS DINNER & DISCO 

AT FERRARI’S Country House Hotel 

Thornley, Longridge. 

FRIDAY 5 th DECEMBER 

FOR THE MEAL CHOOSE FROM THE FOLLOWING: 

STARTERS:- 

MUSHROOMS SAUTEED IN STILTON SAUCE. 

MELON GARNISHED WITH FRUIT, 

HOMEMADE PATE, SERVED WITH MELBA TOAST. 

PRAWNS SALAD. 

SOUP OF THE DAY, 

INVOLTINI Di AGNELLO, (LAMB & SESAME SEED FILO PARCELS) 

MAIN COURSE:- 

ROAST TURKEYAND CRANBERRY SAUCE. 

FILLET OF SALMON COATED WITH A SAFFRON & TARRAGON SAUCE. 

ROAST DUCK & ORANGE SAUCE. 

SIRLOIN STEAK DIANE, 

POT ROAST SHOULDER OF LAMB WITH MINT GRAVY. 

VEGETABLE & PASTA BAKE. 

SWEETS:- 

CHOICE OF SWEETS OR CHRISTMAS PUDDING & RUM SAUCE 

COFFEE AND MINTS. 

Party night price £20.00. To book, ring or 

E-mail Ian or Ann. 

All bookings must be followed by full payment as soon as possible to guarantee a 

place, closing date… when we’re full! 

Please return this slip with your remittance to Ian McCrerie, Mellow Close, 780 

Whittingham Road, Goosnargh, Preston, PR3 2AY. Cheques made payable to Ribble 

Canoe Club. 

NAMES-___________________________________________________________________ 

PHONE No / e-mail-__________________________________________________________ 

STARTER-_________________________________________________________________ 

MAINCOURSE-_____________________________________________________________ 



Beginners' Trip 

Sunday 05 October 2003 

Cast of 26 !!!: Me (Terry), Tony Morgan, 

Tim Langridge, Helen James, Daniel & 

Martin Stockdale, Mark Loftus, Mark Allton, 

Martin Walmsley, Sam King, Ian Krauklis, 

Keith & Philip Lawton, Peter & Sarah Benett, 

Martin & Charles Atherton, Ray 

Worthington, Adam & Karl, Stephen Miller, 

Steve, Sue, Andrew, Sam & Alex Green. 

phone call from the Greens. It began to dawn 

on me that several experienced paddlers and 

instructors would be away on the Scottish 

Trip (it's bad luck to say the exact location). 

PANIC! But thankfully a visit to Burrs is a 

different kettle of fish than a Wenning Trip 

and a higher proportion of beginners to 

experienced paddlers could be tolerated. 

Location: Burrs 

Conditions: Weather sunny but cool. Water 

levels very low. 

I know it said the River Wenning on the 

calendar, but a look at the water level there on 

the Thursday convinced me that wheels 

would be necessary to get down. Although 

levels at Burrs would be low, the river 

channel there has been adapted for low flows 

and the man on the telephone assured me that 

the big weir was do-able (so a bit of 

excitement there then). 

The list of people booking on the trip grew 

steadily as the date approached until Friday 

when the numbers jumped by 5 with one 



In the event, I think everyone enjoyed the day 

and the weather was more benign than 

expected. The big 17 ft (5m) high weir at the 

top end of the site provided much excitement 

and one swim when Mark Allton found his 

first moving water experience very moving as 

he tried to turn a corner (that wasn't there) at 

the bottom of the weir. Sue Green left a 

paddle stuck in the stonework part way down 

and Steve had to hang from the top by his 

ankles to dislodge it. 

There was little useful to play on below the 

big weir until the small weir and pool below 

the access bridge and the three small waves 

below that. Here we could practise ferry 

gliding and breaking in and out of current as 

well as trying to get a complete line of us 

across the bottom of the weir. 

And after lunch we did it all over again. I was 

pretty tired by the time we got off the river 

and I went to bed at 9 o'clock that night – so 

I'd definitely had an enjoyable and 

exhilarating day. I hope everyone else did and 

many thanks to the experienced paddlers for 

their much needed support. 

Terry Maddock 

Lack of Committee? 

In the last year we have lost a number of 

committee members who have had to resign 

for various reasons. Although we have coopted 

two people onto the committee, we are 

still very short of committee members which 

means the remaining few end up with an 

awful lot of work to do. 

Being a member of the committee is not an 

onerous task. The committee meets every two 

months for approximately 2 hours at the Hand 

& Dagger and discusses and plans the clubs 

activities. Committee members may also be 

asked to take on jobs which can be sorted out 

between one meeting and the next. 

None of these jobs are very difficult or time 

consuming, and since we are all strongly 

opposed to un-necessary work we will not ask 

for jobs to be done unless they are really 

important! 

So, if you have a bit of time to spare and want 

to help out with the running of the club, or 

you want to have more of a say in what the 

club does, please get in touch with me before 

the AGM to stand for election to the 

committee! 


Instructor Training 

The club is greatly in need of new qualified 

instructors. To this end I am collecting names 

of those prepared to undertake training, 

initially to instructor (grade2) level. This 

training is not to be undertaken lightly as 

there is a lot of background training such as 

first aid to be done, as well as the canoe 

instructing. This will require several 

weekends to complete. 

I will be drawing on all resources in terms of 

funding this training which means that those 

who complete the training must be prepared 

to give their time to instruct others. 

Those that wish to consider starting this 

course should be locally based and anticipate 

remaining so for the next few years. If you 

want to be considered for this course please 

forward your name and basic details including 

canoe experience to myself. Alternatively 

contact me first if you want to discuss this 

further. 

Tim Langridge 



Cyclades Chronicle 

October 2003 

I’d been out to the Greek island of Milos for 

two weeks last year and enjoyed spectacular 

multicoloured cliff scenery from warm deep 

clear seas, whilst there a mention to Rod 

Feldtmann (www.seakayakgreece.com) that 

an island-hopping trip might be a good idea 

struck home. A multi island tour to Santorini 

and a possible return had been top of Rod’s 

wish list for some time; this year (2003) was 

time to achieve that goal. 

Rod, an Australian, married to Petrinela and 

father of two daughters, has organised sea 

kayaking tours from his home in Milos for 

several years and for this adventure recruited 

Jeff and Heidi from Montana, USA to 

accompany him. I was keen to sample warm 

days and sleeping on sun warmed beaches and 

needed very little persuasion to make up the 

team. 

Wednesday 1 st Oct 

The peace and quiet of the local village was 

disturbed as Jeff and I dashed around for 

provisions, Rod picked up Heidi from the 

Airport and we assembled at our departure 

port of Pallonia. Heidi had been subject to 

delays on her air travel and had the task of 

loading up a kayak and setting off within a 

mere couple of hours of arriving on Milos. 

Last minute purchases of bread, goodies and 

supplies of water were crammed into the 

remaining corners of the kayaks and we were 

on our way. 

Heading northeast we soon reached Kymolos, 

skirted the south end of Poliegos and gazed at 

the cliffs, spires and pinnacles of this 

uninhabited island. As we followed the 

island’s east coast to our destination an 

increasing wind slowed progress and it was 

with some relief when we landed on the beach 

in near dark conditions. 

Thursday 2 nd 

The wind persisted throughout the night, 

building up a disturbed sea and our departure 

was delayed until midday when a “go for it” 

decision was made. The 23km crossing to 

Folegandros is open to the winds and 

estimates that we were subject to a Force 6 

meant re-adjustments to our compass bearing. 

Some three hours of paddling and several 

sweep strokes later we were able to pick out 

features on the cliffs and relax a little as we 

put the wind to our backs and headed south. 

Huge smiles were exchanged as we landed on 

a secluded beach complete with nudists 

enjoying the sun. 

Pushing eyeballs back into their sockets we 

paddled ourselves away from the warmth and 

calm of this lovely beach and made our way 

to Angalli, here we left the kayaks and walked 

inland to the nearby town with its winding 

streets, alleyways and birds singing in the tree 

lined square. Dragging ourselves away from 

this delightful area we returned to the kayaks, 

ate at a nearby taverna then settled down for a 

well-earned rest. 

Friday 3 rd 

Quieter seas greeted us in the morning and we 

pottered along the huge limestone cliffs of 

Folegandros and headed across to Sikinos. 

Lunch was taken on the summit rocks of the 

small island of Khardhiotiss where we were 

able to see both our previous route and look 

out towards our destination of Santorini. The 

beach at Sikinos had ample driftwood and 

soon enough material was gathered for a 

modest blaze. Jeff’s attempts to conserve 

water by boiling the spaghetti in ready salted 

seawater did little to enhance his culinary 

reputation as we made inroads into our store 

of bottled water. His excuse? “Pacific 

seawater must have a lower saline content; I’ll 

add a little more bottled water next time”. 



Saturday 4 th 

A short trip along the coast to the welcoming 

harbour at Sikinos to stock up on supplies, to 

Malta Point in a vain search for 

archaeological remains and a 6km crossing to 

Ios. Expansion work with cranes and diggers 

at the harbour took the shine off this sheltered 

retreat so we made our way to the bay of 

Milopotomus. What golden sands and how 

busy this must be in the high season! Rod 

searched for, and found, welcome showers, 

and refreshed we sought out a place to eat. 

The menu and the food at Club-Far Out is 

highly recommended. Jeff and Heidi were 

struck with Saturday Night Fever and went 

off to town in search of Line-dancing or a 

little Montana Two step. 

Sunday 5 th 

Oh Dear! The late night and a glass or two of 

Ouzo had their effect on the revellers and 

their fragile state was reflected in a later than 

usual departure. The14km to the south of Ios 

to the vast beach at Manganari was 

undertaken steadily and on landing driftwood 

collected for a BBQ - Western style. We 

settled down, each one no doubt thinking of 

the day to come. As we gazed towards our 

destination we could see the lights of cruise 

liners and passing freighters, a reminder that 

this can be a busy area. 

Monday 6 th 

Rod was awake early, roused us from our 

slumbers and we were soon packed and 

prepared for the 22 km crossing. As we 

paddled through almost oil flat seas the mist 

closed in restricting visibility and reminding 

us of our vulnerable state. The whistles, flares 

and strobes to access on our decks did little to 

comfort us when the booming of a ships 

foghorn reverberated across the water and we 

closed together for moral support. Some two 

hours into the trip a light wind picked up and 

slowly the mist lifted sufficiently to reveal the 

volcanic mass which is Santorini. Sunshine 

brushed away the final strands of mist as we 

paddled into the flooded caldera which makes 

this island so special. 

A celebratory lunch in a nearby taverna, a 

tour round the inner cliffs and arches, a visit 

to the sulphur laden hot springs, a campsite 

on the small port on the volcanic plug of 

Kemini and the spectacle of the village lights 

on the rim brought to end a memorable day. 

This had been a trip totalling some 150kms, 

taking in five major islands, numerous 

pinnacles, small islets and some stunning 

sunsets. 

Tuesday 7 th 

The holiday season being at an end meant that 

ferry schedules were greatly reduced, Rod, 

under pressure from senior management was 

eager to return home, fortunately he managed 

to secure a place for himself and kayak to 

Milos. Jeff and Heidi decided to work on their 

suntans and take in the sights and sounds of 

the island. They returned to Milos by a 

combination of ferries and kayak excursions 

over the following week. The journey from 

Milos to Santorini had been extremely 

interesting and being keen to extend my 

knowledge of the area I decided to adhere to 

our original idea of completing the circle by 

returning via the islands to the north. 

As Rod says, “There’s no better way to see 

the Cyclades than by sea-kayak” 

Santorini—Milos Tuesday 7 th 

As part of a “rest day” I took the ferry from 

Santorini to Ios. A laden kayak is a clumsy 

thing on land and I was to learn at first hand 

of the help and interest of the Ferry and 

Harbour personnel at the ports of Santorini 

and Ios. Their assistance was typical of the 

help received on my return journey. The 

luxury of the ferry soon faded into distant 

memory as I packed additional supplies into 

the kayak and headed to the northern point of 

Ios. Locating a quiet beach was easy on this 

indented coast and I was soon in my sleeping 

bag gazing up at the stars. 

Wednesday 8 th 

The 11km crossing from Ios to Iraklia passed 

slowly by, and I watched a pair of buzzards 



circling in the updraughts of steep cliffs 

before heading out to the rounded outline of 

Skhinousa. For some reason I had been 

intrigued by the name of this island which 

appeared to have huge beaches and looked 

inviting. Closer up the island was ringed by 

short but steep cliffs and with plenty of time 

available I headed across the 8km channel 

towards Naxos. As I moved from the shelter 

of Skhinousa this coincided with an increase 

in wind speed and a steady slog ensued. 

Bouncing through clapotis off a headland I 

entered a large bay providing shelter and a 

tiny beach. Pulling the kayak ashore and 

above the waves reach I found a rocky ledge 

as a home for the night. As the daylight faded 

a magnificent lightning display lit the skies 

with multiple streaks highlighting the black 

clouds. This display, the high winds and a 

short cloudburst reminded me of the 

possibility of being stormbound, fortunately I 

had sufficient supplies of food and drink but a 

restless night passed slowly by. 

Thursday 9 th 

The storm of the night eased away as sun 

brought welcome warmth and dried out gear 

as I waited for the waves to ease off. Force 4 

winds kept the sea agitated and I waited until 

mid-day before heading along the west coast 

of Naxos. This large island is very popular 

with tourists and building development is in 

evidence along the coast. After a couple of 

hours I found a beautiful beach and enjoyed a 

long surf in on green water to arrive at an 

hotel which was still open for business. 

Luxury! I entered the hotel and was soon 

tucking in to a Greek salad on the veranda. 

Fortified and refreshed the return to open 

water and the west coast of Naxos was 

punctuated by pounding surf which threatened 

to pluck me from the kayak. Leaving the 

relative shelter of the island I set off for 

Paros, a two-hour trip into water exposed to 

the wind and I was relieved to reach the 

sheltered harbour of Marmara. A developing 

fishing fleet has its base here with a road 

alongside the beach which did not bode well 

for a quiet night. Wandering around I found a 

bar with rooms available at €15 - a bargain - a 

shower and a softish bed. I can also 

recommend the food at Stavro’s restaurant. 

The island of Paros has a thriving viniculture 

programme, the ’98 unpronounceable red 

slipping down a real treat. As I walked back 

to the bar the bay shone silver in the light of 

the full moon. Feeling suitably pampered I 

tucked up in bed and drifted into sleep. 

Friday 10 th 

The benefits of a good nights sleep showed as 

I left Marmara harbour, followed the south 

coast of Paros and headed to Andiparos. The 

waters around the islands of Pandironisi 

which divide this crossing are only three 

metres deep, added to that an almost white sea 

bottom reflecting the bright sunshine and the 

result a huge area of fluorescent water, a 

wonderful and uplifting sight. 

Rounding the collection of small islands of 

Dhespothis and Strongilio I looked across the 

20km to Sifnos and decided to make the 

crossing. Out of the shelter and in open water 

the wind reminded me of its presence and I 

was faced with over three hours of determined 

effort before reaching the leading light and 

calm waters at the harbour of Faros. The sea 

state was impressive; at one time I was in 

deep troughs with limited outlook and the 

next on high peaks with clear sight to the 

horizon. Not a period to relax, yet at the same 

time it was a delight to see dark seas with 

translucent green shoulders topped with 

foaming white caps. The “no camping” signs 

on the beach and a herd of noisy goats 

coupled with the effects of a 62km day soon 

had me knocking on doors in search of a bed. 

Once found I wasted little time before eating 

and “crashing out”. 

Saturday 11 th 

Loaded up I gently eased the kayak along, 

arms a little sore from the previous days effort 

and made my way to the southern point of 

Sifnos. As memories of islands blended into 

each other it was both comforting and 

satisfying to look around the horizon and pick 

out the places visited over the past few days 

and I could see my destination of Milos from 

the misty blue islands in the distance. 



On the crossing from Sifnos to Kymolos the 

kayak was eager to extend the adventure and 

sought for further islands to explore - a 

quartering wind may have had something to 

do with it and my entreaties for better 

behaviour were steadfastly ignored. Not for 

the first time I felt that a rudder would have 

been a great asset. 

Slowly the warm coloured cliffs of Kymolos 

drew near and I welcomed the sheltered straits 

between Kymolos and Poliegos (our first 

camp site). A short break then the final few 

kilometres to finish at Pollonia and a 

celebratory ice-cream. 

A phone call to Rod informing him of my 

safe arrival and as I waited for transport back 

to the village I reflected on the circuit I had 

completed. 

Some twenty islands visited or passed, warm 

clear waters and magnificent cliffs, 

lightweight gear, (I paddled in t-shirts on 

every day) and splendid beaches with villages 

perched on the waters edge. I’d covered over 

320km and picked up a fine sun-tan along the 

way. 

As the man said “There’s no better way of 

seeing the Cyclades than by sea kayak”!!! 

I used an Italian Rainbow / Laser kayak. 

Imray G.33 covers this route and a host of 

other possibilities. 

Rod Feldtmann has a detailed site at 

www.seakayakgreece.com 

Peter H Roscoe 

Canoe Slalom 

For those of you who don’t know me (which 

is probably most of you), I thought a brief 

introduction might be useful. Many of you 

will know Richard (my son) and Vince (my 

husband) who have been quite active 

members of Ribble over the past few years. 

I’ve been persuaded to join the canoe club 

committee and at my first meeting, I seem to 

have volunteered myself to look after the 

competitions (what do they say about never 

volunteering for anything at meetings!). 

We thought that it would be a good idea to try 

and generate some more interest within the 

club for canoe slalom and try and encourage 

newcomers to the sport. To give paddlers a 

feel for the event, we’re going to be 

organizing some slalom sessions in the pool 

on the 16th January, 13th February and the 

5th March, so I hope that I can get some 

experienced paddlers down to help (please, 

please, please) and some less experienced 

paddlers down to ‘have a go’. During January 

and February, Stafford and Stone Canoe Club 

run three “mini slaloms” (dates to be 

confirmed), which are good taster events on 

easy water. We hope that some of you will 

join in on these if you get a taste for it in the 

pool. 

The aim of canoe slalom is to run a river 

course marked by "gates" fast, and without 

touching. It's the ultimate test of canoeing 

skill and stamina. And it's fun! A "gate" is 

two poles, suspended over the water. The 

gates are numbered. You must go through 

green and white gates in a downstream 

direction, and through red and white gates 

upstream, with an S movement or a spin (a 

"breakout"). The gates are placed so that you 

must make tricky cross-current moves and use 

the eddies and waves. If you touch a pole with 

anything - paddle, boat, buoyancy aid, helmet 

or yourself - a 2 second penalty is added to 

your time. If you miss a gate out, or go 

through in the wrong direction, the penalty is 

50 seconds! The aim is fast and clean. The 

gates are positioned to test your skill in using, 

and coping with, the water. This is perfect 

training for running big white water rivers. 

(Courtesy of www.canoeslalom.co.uk the 

sport’s unofficial “official” web site). 

Jacky Draper 



Enter the Dragon o 

N 

Dragon boat racing in Sweden 

This place is amazing. During the summer 

there is something going on practically every 

weekend, which is in stark contrast to earlier 

on in the year. So I suppose I shouldn’t have 

been surprised when one evening, whilst 

walking into town for a meal, Richard (one of 

the guys from the Vattern trip), shouted down 

from his balcony that he’s been trying to get 

hold of me all day. It turned out that there was 

to be a Dragon Boat Festival at the weekend 

in Linkoping and that Gripen International 

had entered a team and I’d been volunteered. 

The lure of a free T-shirt, baseball cap and 

beer was too much for me and weekend plans 

were duly cancelled. 

I’ve never been Dragon Boat racing. I’ve 

watched it on Blue Peter but that’s about it. I 

had visions of 20 to 30 boats all jostling for 

clear water as they surge across Hong Kong 

Harbour, drums beating, all the paddles in 

perfect sync, the reality was very different but 

still great fun. Linkoping is situated on the 

Kinda Canal, which is more like a river with 

locks. Not quite Hong Kong. 

A strategy meeting was held on Thursday 

before the great race. I was intrigued, so went 

along to meet my fellow competitors. The 

meeting basically covered logistics, where 

and when to meet, time of first race, then the 

meaty stuff of positioning, stroke rate and 

balance. It was clear that only a few of the 

guys had actually paddled a Dragon boat, 

most hadn’t paddled in anything. Tales of 

sunken boats, capsizes and swimmers left me 

wondering what I’d got myself into. At least 

they provided someone to steer, so with any 

luck we shouldn’t crash. 

The races consisted of heats in the morning, 

all timed. The boats were then broken down 

into pools, A for Pros, B for duffers and C for 

Girls/Ladies. The best four from each pool 

went through to a Final timed run. 

The day of the race arrived. A light breeze, 

not a cloud in the sky - perfect conditions for 

something. I set off on my bike to meet the 

rest of the crew. As I entered the park area I 

had to get off and walk, it was 9:30 in the 

morning and the place was a mass of people, 

music and merriment. I got shot at by a group 

of women all dressed in combats armed to the 

teeth with water cannons. They were first up 

and were marching toward the assembly point 

in two rows. This was starting to look 

ominous. 



I found our tent and met the rest of the crew. 

You can squeeze 22 paddlers into a dragon 

boat and this was the first time we’d all been 

together, let alone sat in a boat. Our first race 

was 10:30. We wandered down to the 

assembly point to be greeted with jeers from 

the opposition. Intimidating the opposition is 

all part of Dragon Boat racing. We opted for 

the strong silent look, mainly because we 

were intimidated and slightly nervous. 

We followed the chanting opposition down 

to the boats. I’ve got to be honest, I was kind 

of expecting something a little wider! I 

slipped on my buoyancy aid, grabbed a 

paddle and jumped into the front. We had to 

provide a drummer (we should have picked 

someone with a sense of rhythm). As the boat 

filled up with bodies it rocked precariously 

from side to side. 

We were finally ready and took the first 

tentative strokes. I couldn’t see what was 

going on behind me but could feel the boat 

lurching from side to side and hear the 

managerial discussions as the inevitable 

power struggle takes place between a group of 

guys all used to being in charge who are 

asked to work as a team. The eventual 

outcome was chaos, we did ok on the way up 

to the start, not that that matters, but the race! 

We started poorly; the other boat seemed to 

get it together straight away, leaping into an 

early lead that just kept getting larger. I could 

hear giggling and moaning from behind, a 

random drum beat from in front and the 

rhythmic chanting of the opposition. Surely 

this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. 

We managed to complete the course in 1min 

10 seconds; they even gave us a medal. We 

had the second slowest time of all the 

competitors. Only ICA (the local Tesco) were 

worse and only by 10ths of a second. At least 

the sun was shining and the beer was free! 

Whilst I was lounging around enjoying the 

crazy atmosphere, Kate was driving off to the 

airport to pick up her sister and boyfriend. I 

had warned Kate that Phil may get drafted 

into the crew at short notice, but even I was 

surprised at what happened. I went home to 

collect the Bourne clan, we wandered casually 

into the tent, to be greeted by a “right we’re 

off”!! The race timetable had moved forward 

and we had a lot of guys missing, Wives, 

girlfriends and bloke just off the plane having 

travelled for 7 hours were bundled down to 

the assembly area. This was to be a race for 

honour: we had been pitted against ICA, the 

equally bad crew. 

A few tactical changes in the positioning of 

the crew and a morale boosting water fight at 

the pontoon set us up for a quality race. The 

new drummer had some rhythm although she 

did feel a little unsteady perched up at the 

front; two of the veteran racers were at the 

front, followed by me and another vet. The 

plan was to try and get the front of the boat 

paddling with a steady stroke, which would 

hopefully drag the rest along. Paddling up to 

the start we felt and looked good, a sense of 

confidence (alcohol fuelled) rippled through 

the boat. All lined up and ready for the off, 

the gun sounded and we leapt away from the 

start. The boat surged forward. It was hard to 

believe; we all chanted in time with the drum, 

just totally fixed on putting the paddle behind 

the one in front. 

It was an amazing feeling, like being part of a 

well-oiled machine. ICA didn’t stand a 

chance, we’d established a terrific pace within 

a few seconds. The boat felt smooth as it 



surged through the water, this was what it’s 

all about. We beat ICA and shaved 10 

seconds off the previous time. Soaked and 

elated we returned to the beer tent. The time 

stood as the third fastest until the last B pool 

race, unfortunately both crews beat our time, 

so we were out, but not disgraced. 

Some of the A crews were awesome with 

times of less than 55 seconds. 

The party atmosphere was fantastic and we 

were treated to a hilarious site of a drunken 

Swede trying to take a leak. Obviously 

mindful of the risk of wetting his trousers and 

the embarrassment that could cause, he pulled 

down both shorts and pants, and leant on a 

tree in full view. Job done, quick shakes then 

the tricky manoeuvre of pulling your pants 

back up. This proved too much for him as he 

could hardly stand unassisted; he leant 

forward, grabbed his pants and as he was 

pulling them up to hide his modesty, he 

crashed over sideways. This went on for 

about five minutes; his success at finally 

getting his shorts on was greeted with a round 

of applause. He then wobbled off in search of 

some dignity, bouncing off trees and tents. 

Dragon boat racing is great fun and I’m 

delighted that I’ve had a chance to have a go. 

Looking forward to next year’s event - 

maybe, just maybe!!!!!! 

Dave Ellison 

Kingsmill Bread 

“Free Kit for Clubs” 

Kingsmill bread are currently running a 

promotion to give kit and equipment to sports 

clubs absolutely free… as long as you buy 

lots of loaves, of course! 

Each loaf of Kingsmill bread has vouchers 

which we can collect to get equipment for the 

club. The vouchers will be available until the 

end of August 2004, so we’ve got time to 

collect loads! 

A look at the Kingsmill website 

www.kingsmillkitforclubs.com (am I the only 

person who thinks website addresses are 

getting ridiculously long these days?) shows 

that with only 2,562 tokens (who’s going to 

count them and check that the last 2 are 

there??) we can get a buoyancy aid. I’m not 

going to work out how many peanut butter 

and banana sandwiches you’d have to eat to 

get that many tokens, but I doubt if the 

buoyancy aid would fit afterwards! 

Seriously, Tim Langridge has registered us 

for the scheme and has volunteered to collect 

the tokens on our behalf, so please pass any 

tokens you get on to him. I’ve got 4 tokens 

already, so that’s only 2,558 to go! 



Blast from the Past 

Over the past few weeks Steve Singleton has 

either (a) undertaken a labour of love, or (b) 

gone completely bonkers, depending upon your 

point of view! 

He has scanned his whole collection of Ribble 

Canoe Club newsletters, going right back to 

1976, and converted them all to PDF files – 

nearly 200MB of them! 

The Eden Cruise 

There are a number of gems amongst this lot, 

including Terry Maddock’s first ever newsletter 

article, which is reprinted below. 

If nostalgia has misted your glasses up, and 

you’d like a copy, pass a blank CD-R to Steve or 

me and we’ll copy them all for your delectation 

and delight! 

2 July 1989 

I remember at school (yes, I have a long 

memory) every time we had a day's outing, the 

pleasure was dulled by knowing that we would 

later have to write an essay on it. It's just as well 

I had no inkling that I would have to write this, 

otherwise a really splendid trip could have been 

ruined. 

The car park by Whatsaname Bridge near 

Lazonby was easily found after a detour round 

the nearby school fete (I knew the Club was well 

organised but I wasn't expecting stalls and 

refreshments). I see from July's Newsletter that 

we had 22 on the trip, and I know I speak for all 

us new boys and girl in thanking the many 

experts who guided our route through what 

seemed to us to be raging waterfalls, rapids and 

wild white water. They tell me that the river was 

very low and quiet compared to normal!! 

And in between the breathtaking rapids was the 

breathtaking scenery. Most of the cruise took 

place within a wooded gorge flanked by red 

sandstone cliffs fringed with greenery and dotted 

with bird's nest holes. 

Spills were fairly few, apart from Ray "Everest" 

who is now an expert at paddling upside-down 

and is hoping to start a sub-aqua branch of the 

club. When Rebecca came out at the "Really big 

One", I think every "marshall" on the rapid set 

off to rescue her. However, she came up smiling 

and holding both paddle and boat - "It's the best 

capsize I've ever done" - and was rewarded with 

a hot coffee from Bill's flask. Tony gave an 

impromptu lecture on rolling (in a canoe) with 

annoyingly relaxed demonstrations between 

breaths. Later Bill successfully failed to 

complete a roll and went on to stir things up by 

telling Penny how useful the women were for 

ferrying the canoeists back and forth. And he 

says he's liberal compared to some others. 

(Who's Phil Moxham?) 

Yes, it was a truly splendid trip - even the assault 

course at the end (Michelle, put my name down 

for your Commando Training Course). Thanks 

again to the organisers and to the many 

"marshalls" who enabled us to enjoy the thrills of 

our first real river trip without too much danger. 

When can we go again? 

Terry Maddock 



Would you like to learn to canoe? 

Ribble Canoe Club is running a beginners’ course starting on Friday 23 rd January 2004 which will 

teach the basic skills necessary to paddle a kayak. 

The course includes a classroom session to look at the theory of canoeing, three pool sessions to 

gain practical experience, and an outdoor session on the Lancaster Canal. 

No previous experience is necessary. 

For the first three weeks the course will take place in the swimming pool at Fulwood Leisure 

Centre, Black Bull Lane, Preston. The club has all the equipment necessary including kayaks and 

paddles, so all you need to bring is yourself - and your swimming costume, of course! (At the end 

of the pool session you will need to carry your equipment outside to the store before you get 

changed, so flip-flops or water shoes and an old t-shirt would also be a good idea.) 

The course will run from 8:00pm until 10:00pm on the 23 rd January, and 9:00pm until 10:00pm on 

the 30 th January and 6 th February. Please arrive about 15 minutes before the start time to give time 

to get equipment sorted out. 

The final session will take place during the day on a Saturday (date to be decided) on the Lancaster 

Canal near the Hand and Dagger at Salwick. You will need to wear warm clothing and a cagoule 

(but they may get dirty or wet so don’t wear your best gear!), and bring a change of clothes. Again, 

all other equipment will be provided. 

The maximum cost of the course will be £34 per person, which includes the cost of the instruction, 

pool hire and membership of Ribble Canoe Club for 2004. Membership costs are less for junior 

members and for additional members of the same family. 

For further details, or to book a place please telephone: 

Tom Byrne 



The Ross of Mull & Staffa 

August 2003 

The Isle of Mull is the second largest of the 

Hebridean Islands with over 300 miles of 

coastline featuring high rugged cliffs, deserted 

sandy beaches, a variety of offshore islands, lots 

of historical and geological interest, an 

abundance of wildlife, and a general acceptance 

of the notion of wild camping. Now, when I refer 

to “wild camping” I don't mean to imply pitching 

tents like furious savages, but rather to be 

camping in wild places. What better way could 

there be to explore this unspoiled and largely 

unpopulated coast than by sea kayak? 

Starting the trip from Loch Spelve meant we 

only had to drive 10 miles to the head of Loch 

Scridain where we intended to finish the trip in 7 

days time. There should have been 6 people in 

the team, but Steve Swarbrick and Mike 

Haywood had to pull out due to circumstances 

beyond their control, leaving Bob Smith, Steve 

Wilky, Kevin Singleton and myself, launching 

our heavily laden boats in the early afternoon 

onto a fast flowing river giving easy access to 

Loch Spelve. 

The weathermen were predicting a heatwave, but 

this looked like a remote possibility as we 

battled into a strong headwind under cloudy 

skies. By the time we had picked up the strong 

tidal flow where Loch Spelve ebbed through a 

narrow channel into the open sea we were 

already soaked with salt spray, and were 

anticipating daunting sea conditions along the 10 

mile section of exposed cliffs we had planned to 

paddle. The coastline in this area is wild and 

rugged, offering few opportunities for safe 

landings, and although a significant swell was 

running in from the west, the headwind was not 

enough to cause too much discomfort. 

Progress was inevitably slow and by 5 o'clock 

we found a welcome landing on a small pebble 

storm beach topped with a patch of flat grass and 

several moth-eaten wild goats. The goats may 

have sensed how hungry we were and hurriedly 

scampered up the precipitous cliffs as we landed. 

It had been a long day, but after we had eaten, an 

abundance of driftwood allowed us to relax 

round a friendly fire as we enjoyed some late 

evening sun illuminating the Garvellach Islands 

and Scarba in the distance. 

Sunday - It gets misty, but we know 

where we are going 

Cessation of the overnight rain encouraged us 

onto the water at 9am on Sunday morning, but a 

heavily overcast sky heralded more rain to come. 



Few words were spoken between us as we 

headed west along the coastal cliffs into the 

rolling swell. Before long the expected rain 

arrived, dropping the cloud base to sea level and 

cutting off all views of the 900 foot high cliffs. 

Jagged rocks along the shore loomed out of the 

mist as we passed, until one appeared with an 

unnatural shaped pinnacle. Closer inspection 

revealed it to be a White Tailed Sea Eagle, and 

we watched fascinated as it gained altitude on 

languid beats of its huge wings and it's ghostly 

shape gradually disappeared into the mist. 

At the entrance to Loch Buie we lost site of land, 

and we all suffered complete disorientation in 

the mist. We found it difficult to accept the logic 

of map and compass which appeared to be 

directing us straight out to sea (next stop, Nova 

Scotia?). Reason soon prevailed and we followed 

the compass for the next 2 miles. However, Bob 

remained sceptical, and convinced of our folly 

proceeded to cut a swathe through our midst on a 

heading of his own choosing. I think it was peer 

pressure rather than logic that persuaded Bob of 

his error, and, happily, at the appointed time and 

place, the cliffs reappeared out of the mist 2 

miles east of Carsaig bay where we intended 

making a lunch stop. Carsaig was the setting for 

the 1945 Powell and Pressburger film comedy "I 

Know Where I'm Going", but the implications of 

this title clearly didn't apply to Bob. 

The prospect of a cold, wet lunch stop on the 

beach at Carsaig was not particularly appealing, 

so when someone suggested we pitch tents and 

stay for the night there was general agreement. 

This was a sensible decision, because we would 

have seen little of the coastal scenery or wildlife 

in the heavy mist. Later in the afternoon the low 

cloud lifted allowing us views of an otter fishing 

and a juvenile Sea Eagle (identifiable by blue 

wing tags as a twelve month old bird) 

scavenging among the offshore rocks about 

100m from the tents. 

Monday, Carsaig to Sound of Iona 

We had now fallen into the routine of awakening 

at 7am followed by breakfast and packing the 

boats to launch at 9am. We have found an early 

start (tides permitting) gives us more flexibility 

during the day to change plans or make detours 

as the mood takes us, or sometimes to cover a 

greater mileage. We launched the boats that 

morning onto a calm sea with a promise from the 

weathermen that the high thin cloud would burn 

off to give a warm sunny day. An hour of 

paddling took us past Carsaig Arches and 

another mile or so later to a deeply indented cove 

with a 2 tier waterfall dropping 600 feet into the 

sea. The sun was just now breaking through and 

we spent a pleasant 20 minutes drifting here 

while we had a small snack. Beyond this point 

the character of the coast changes from 

precipitous cliffs to more low-lying moorland 

interspersed with many sandy beaches. A beach 

called "Traigh Bahn" which we shared with a 

herd of inquisitive cows made a good lunch halt 

after about 10 miles. In fact "Traigh Bahn" just 

means "white sandy beach" in Gaelic so there are 

many Traigh Bahns in this area. There are now 8 

breeding pairs of Sea Eagles on Mull and while 

having lunch we spotted yet another of these 

perched on the cliff-top overlooking the beach. 

The afternoon’s paddling took us past many 

beaches where we could have spent the night, 

but in such perfect conditions it felt like you 

wanted to keep going forever. Eventually we 

landed in a deserted bay encircled by a curving 

bar of white sand finishing at a flat area of grass 

where we could pitch the tents. It was an idyllic 

location, but we were looking for something 

better, so we paddled on a further mile to a very 

similar beach one mile east of the Island of 

Erraid which satisfied our desire for the highest 

possible standard of accommodation. For the 

first time on an extended trip we had taken our 

collapsible trolleys, and over the ensuing days 

we made good use of these, transporting loaded 

boats over lengthy stretches of sand with little 

effort. The heatwave had now arrived, tempting 

us in to the sea for a swim before our evening 

meal, which we were happy to share with some 

local midges. A driftwood fire on the beach 

rounded off a memorable day. 

Tuesday, Erraid and Iona 

We made our usual 9am start in warm sunshine, 

but overnight the wind had picked up in strength, 

shifting to an easterly force 4 tailwind. With this 

kind of assistance we were soon into the Sound 

of Iona and heading north via a sheltered yacht 

anchorage on the west coast of Erraid Island, 

known as "Tinkers Hole". This island featured in 



Robert Louis Stevenson's book "Kidnapped", 

and was also where the pink granite was quarried 

for the construction of 2 offshore Stevenson 

lighthouses (The author and lighthouse builders 

were related). 

We landed on the north side of the island at high 

water to investigate an observatory located at the 

highest point on the island. A collection of single 

storey terraced cottages was served by a 

substantial stone built pier out of all proportion 

to the size of the community (a legacy of the 

lighthouse construction). The cottages and 

associated farm buildings were neatly enclosed 

by 6 foot high dry built walls of the local granite, 

lending the settlement an isolation and stillness 

that was almost ecclesiastical. As we walked 

through the farmyard we thought we could be 

intruding on an obscure religious sect whose 

ancient rituals were shrouded in secrecy. The 

sudden appearance of one of the residents, a bald 

headed man sporting a long grey beard, did 

nothing to dispel our fears. When we asked the 

way to the observatory however, he helpfully 

directed us by way of the quarry, and assured us 

that he wasn't a monk, weirdo, or hippy, but a 

normal hard-working chap. The observatory had 

recently been restored and commanded views 

over all the islands to the west of Mull, its 

purpose being to signal to the lighthouses - it 

was certainly worth the short walk via the 

Stevenson quarry. 

Re-embarking after lunch in the hot sun we had 

elected to cross the Sound of Iona to round the 

southern point of the island, allowing us to 

paddle the west coast which we had never seen 

before. The southern part of the island consists 

of low, rocky, deeply indented cliffs, suddenly 

changing to sweeping white sand beaches and 

shallow offshore waters dotted with small 

islands.We landed at Eilean Chalbha on a small 

inviting beach, but the camping arrangements 

did not quite measure up to our exacting 

requirements. It was while getting back into the 

boats that a small wave unbalanced me and I 

suffered the indignity of a technical swim 

("technical" means I didn't swim at all but 

merely got a wet bum). At about the same time 

as this occurred, someone obviously told a very 

funny joke as there was much loud laughter from 

all the others. Unfortunately, I was otherwise 

engaged recovering from my mishap and so 

never found out what was so amusing. 

“We always stand outside in weather 

like this” - Bob 

A mile of paddling into what was now a stiff 

headwind took us to a small island called Eilean 

Annraidh a quarter of a mile north of Iona, 

where we camped on the machair overlooking 

the Sound of Iona. The air was now hot and 

humid, and darkening skies to the east heralded a 

storm approaching. 

Just as the first drops of rain began to fall we 

were joined by a group of 9 paddlers from the 

Scottish Canoe Association who were soon 

running for cover. Bob expressed his surprise 

when they wanted to take shelter, and explained 

that when the weather is bad we all put our 

ponchos on and stand outside to enjoy it. We felt 

obliged to support Bob's lunacy on this point and 

so, donning our ponchos, we stood around in the 

torrential rain, battered by the wind, watching 

the almost continuous lightning and hearing 

thunder that rolled around the hills forever. After 

an hour or two of this, we considered we had 

upheld the honour of Ribble Canoe Club, and 

dived for cover into the tents. This was one of 

the most spectacular electrical storm I have ever 

witnessed, lasting from 6pm to 11pm and the 

strangest thing about it was the almost cloudless 

sky immediately behind us to seaward. 

Wednesday, Staffa - and Bob throws a 

sickie 

One of the objectives of the week had been to 

visit the Island of Staffa, and the famous Fingal's 

Cave, and when Wednesday morning dawned 

warm and sunny with not a breath of wind, the 

conditions were ideal for the 5.6 mile crossing. 



Bob had been complaining of a sore arm for 

several days, and the open sea crossing did not 

appeal to him, so on production of a sick note he 

was excused the days paddling, leaving the 

remaining three of us to get on with it. We set a 

fast but comfortable pace and with a favourable 

tide giving us about 0.5mph of assistance we 

made the crossing in 1 hour and 7 minutes 

(Average speed 5.01mph) * . 

Staffa is a magical place to visit by kayak, and 

some time was spent exploring caves and 

geological formations before landing for a snack 

and leg stretch. Bob had stayed in the Sound of 

Iona, and to keep in contact we had a prearranged 

radio schedule by marine VHF 

whereby we would call each other from 12 

midday at half hour intervals. VHF works line of 

sight only and your horizon from a kayak is just 

over a mile away so it was no surprise that at 

midday while we were slightly hidden by the 

island, we got no response. At 12:30, however, 

Bob came through clearly, and from the GPS I 

was able to tell him we were 1.6 miles south of 

the island travelling at 4.5mph (it was now slack 

water and we had lost the tidal assistance) and 

expecting to meet him at “Bull Hole” at 1:30pm. 

The sun was now baking hot but on the water 

we benefited from the cooling effect of the sea, 

so it was pleasant to be forging an arrow straight 

path across the glassy surface. A Dolphin 

leaping clear of the water 300 metres away was a 

highlight of the day (at least for Kevin as he was 

the only person who saw it), and a little later, we 

paddled through a flock of Manx Shearwaters 

afloat on the surface. The birds immediately in 

our path reluctantly took off and closely circled 

our boats with wingtips skimming the sea before 

re-joining their friends. I don't know if it was 

great skill, or a reflection of the modern 

technology, but at 1:30pm we met Bob as 

planned, and soon found a small coral beach 

where we stopped for a late lunch and a swim. 

A couple of miles paddling along the northern 

shore of the Ross of Mull brought us to a large 

sandy bay (Traigh na Margaidh) where once 

again the trolleys were used to transport the 

boats to the perfect camping spot. The evening 

was spent watching the fiery red sunset while we 

sat round a modest log fire and recalled amusing 

incidents from previous sea trips - there may 

have also been a glass of whiskey involved. 

Thursday, a navigational challenge 

We woke on Thursday morning to thick fog and 

after breakfast were chased from the beach by 

some hungry midges. We made a small detour to 

visit the village of Bunesson where Wilky 

bought some bread, and secretly also acquired 

one can of Guinness (not four cans - only one!). 

We thought the time spent here would give the 

fog a chance to lift as forecast, but when we left 

Loch Na Lathaich to head for the Ardmenach 

Wilderness 3.1 miles to the north-west, visibility 

was down to 200 metres, and showing no sign of 

improving. 

We were aiming for a point on the opposite 

shore where there is a fossilised tree, and a 

compass bearing of 045 was the agreed course. 

As we headed out into the fog, our four boats 

began to head in four different directions, but we 

soon came together again and settled into the 

habit of keeping an eye constantly on the 

compass. Paddling purely by compass is not 

easy, so after nearly an hour of this we were 

delighted to be only about 150 metres away from 

our intended destination. The fossil tree dates 



from about 60 million years ago when molten 

lava solidified around a large tree without 

destroying it, leaving the remains as a 12m high 

column set in basalt. 

completely missing the stone, executed what in 

ice skating parlance would be termed a triple 

axel. We were all equally bad at this game, and 

with fading light making the proceedings 

dangerous (not to mention the broken bat) we 

called a halt to the game and burnt the bat. 

Friday, and the sun re-appears 

Miraculously it seemed, the sun was shining 

from a clear blue sky when we emerged from the 

tents early on Friday morning. The view to the 

west was spectacular, with Little Colonsay, 

Staffa and the Treshnish Islands framed by the 

Ross of Mull in the south and Ulva and Gometra 

to the north. We were on the water later that 

morning, paddling hard in difficult conditions 

due to a keen easterly wind being funnelled into 

our faces around the Ardmenach headland. A 

compensation for this effort was seeing the many 

waterfalls whipped off the cliffs by the wind and 

producing rainbows in the low morning sun. 

Bad light and a broken bat stopped 

play 

For the second time this week we called a halt to 

the day’s paddling because of poor visibility, and 

found a small pebble storm beach giving access 

to good camping ground about half a mile north 

of the fossil tree. The afternoon was spent 

exploring the coastal rock formations and 

collecting driftwood for the evening’s 

entertainment. One of the items collected for the 

fire was an old broken oar which was too good 

to burn, so a game was devised where the bowler 

threw a small pebble and the batsman (or was it 

oarsman?) took a big swing and tried to hit the 

stone into the sea. For me, the highlight of the 

evening came when Wilky, following his first 

two successful strikes went for a boundary, and, 

Once into Loch Scridain the wind eased, 

allowing a relaxed lunch stop on a sheltered 

beach. Heading on into the Loch with views of 

Ben More to our left, we eventually picked out 

Bob's car on the southern shore, where he had 

left it nearly a week ago. We had decided to 

camp that night at the head of the Loch, so while 

Bob drove the 2 miles, the rest of us paddled a 

meandering course up the river estuary to meet 

him. Once again the marine VHF radios we 

carried came in useful as Bob guided us by radio 

to the place he had chosen to camp. Finishing the 

trip exactly at high water meant we had to carry 

the boats only 20 metres to our camp site - a 

professional touch at the end of a week’s trip. A 

communal bath in the nearby stream drew some 

strange looks from the occasional passing 

motorist, but was the ideal way to clean up 

before the evening meal we had booked in the 

nearby pub. 

Steve Singleton 

* [I’m not sure which is more sad: Steve for calculating 

their average speed to two decimal places, or me for 

checking his calculation to make sure it was right! – MS] 



The French Alps 

Summer 2003 

At the end of June, I headed out to the French 

Alps with York University Canoe Club. After 

two days on British and French public transport 

(scary people and scarily fast, respectively) I 

arrived in Argentiere…. 

What follows is a not-so-short summary of the 

holiday. In the nine days, I paddled thirteen 

sections and didn't even scratch the surface of 

the paddling possible, which ranges from 

pleasant lakes to scary rivers. The area would 

also suit those looking to do things other than 

kayaking (Heaven forbid!) since there are ample 

opportunities to go rafting, canyoning, cycling, 

walking, climbing etc. After all, paddling isn’t 

everything! I've graded the rivers as I found 

them in a period of medium-low levels; as they 

change from day to day in both the riverbed 

(boulders move, banks collapse) and level, the 

grades are by no means accurate and given just 

to give an idea of the range of rivers in the 

region. There are also many easier and harder 

sections. The rivers tended to be steeper and 

more continuous than UK rivers; I didn't think 

that this was a big thing but some people were 

adding on grades purely because of this. 

Anyway, enough of this grading rubbish, the 

holiday…. 

Day One - Sunday 

An afternoon paddle on the Durance (II with a 

III) from St. Clement down to Embrun. Most of 

the entertainment came in the form of watching 

paddlers in front of me ignoring the eddy lines 

and backlooping. A nice warm up run with 

pleasant scenery. 

Day Two – Monday 

A drive up the valley brought us to the Upper 

Guisane (III with a IV-). A rocky run (perhaps 

because of the low water). Not an especially 

interesting section but the scenery was nice, 

when you could see beyond the forest. After 

lunch, we continued down onto the Lower 

Guisane (IV). Two initial portages were 

followed by the only rapid on the section. Not to 

worry though; the rapid lasted for about 4 km. 

Interesting. 

Day Three – Tuesday 

The sun failed to make an appearance in the 

morning so paddling was replaced by canyoning 

(no sun ⇒ no melt water ⇒ no river). Not being 

a great fan of falling, heights, swimming or 

getting wet, I chickened out and instead went for 

the spineless option; reading a book. Just as well 

really, one human probe discovered a rock in a 

plunge pool with his shin. By afternoon, the 

weather had improved (the sun was fashionably 

late). A brief drive up the valley brought us to 

the Onde (III). Low water made this rocky 

pinball run perfect for taking a few years off my 

boat’s life. Still at least it was my boat’s life; I 

ended up mending a girl’s forehead with suture 

strips after she rolled. 

Day Four – Wednesday 

After the pleasure of playing pinball while 

paddling, the lower Guil (II+) was quite 

peaceful. A nice bimble in a scenic area (it's a 

common theme that valleys in the Alps are 

picturesque). After lunch, we headed to the 

Middle Guil (IV- with two harder bits). 

Technical paddling around boulders in a 

beautiful open rocky gorge. I got my first ‘swim 

point’ after rolling in front of a crowd on the 

roadside. 

Day Five – Thursday 

A drive south over a frightening mountain pass 

took us to the Ubaye valley. The early start 

meant that the sun wasn’t on the river, there was 

no water and it was cold; without the mountain 

peaks it could have been England. Still, we 

paddled the Upper Ubaye (III-) because we were 

there. Further down the valley we ran the 

Racecourse (III+ with a IV- or two), a fantastic 


un with more volume than most of the other 

rivers in the region. There would have been 

some good playing on this section, but nobody 

wanted to stop. 

Day Six – Friday 

After an hour or two of debate in the morning, 

paddling plans still weren’t finalised so a small 

group went up to the Glacier Blanc (half of the 

source of the Gyr). Climbing up the path, we 

came to a small alcove where some marmots 

lived…well, I was told they were marmots. 

Standing at the base of the glacier was belittling, 

especially when car-sized chunks of ice dropped 

off and started bouncing downhill towards 

unsuspecting victims, sorry, walkers (nobody 

was crushed luckily). The best day of the 

holiday. 

Day Seven - Saturday 

Half of the group was heading home today so a 

more northern river was chosen, the Romanche 

(III+ with a longish IV). A similar run to the 

Guisane in that once it started, it didn’t stop. I 

doubled my swim points after rolling in the 

grade IV section. An easier river for everyone 

was called for and the Vénéon (II-) obliged. The 

EDF (Eléctricité de France) plant at the get on 

should soon be forgotten as the river winds 

through the valley (with tremendous 

views…again), but there are always man-made 

imperfections to remind you that the river isn’t 

quite as it should be. A shame really as 

otherwise it would be a nice section for touring. 

On the way back we scouted the Romanche 

below the barrage (V). Too much volume for the 

riverbed, steep, littered with trees and one 

monster rapid where endless tight moves led to a 

final eddy before the main flow dropped under a 

boulder. "Oh no, after you…I insist.” 


Day Eight – Sunday 

We ran the Durance again. This time we stopped 

by the seal launch spot and spent just over a 

second sliding down a 5 m steep ramp which 

stopped 2 m above the river. Leaning forward 

didn’t have the desired effect and as the boat left 

the end of the ramp, the bow came up and I 

landed flat on nicely un-aerated water. Ouch. 

After a quick chat with Tony and Ingrid at the 

Rabioux campsite (they were out with Canoe 

Control) we headed to the Guil valley to look at 

Chateaux Queryas (IV-, perhaps). The river is 

constricted by a deep, sheer-sided, narrow gorge, 

creating fairly boily and powerful water. I 

couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed by the 

gorge; at the low levels we encountered it wasn’t 

that interesting, a case of just pointing 

downstream and paddling through the small 

stoppers. Perhaps the endless horror stories about 

the section (one guidebook writer recommends 

“Stiffening the sinews before paddling!”) made 

it an anti-climax. 

Day Nine – Monday 

Morning came and went and we were on the 

Gyronde (III- with a personally recommended 

weir portage) just after midday, on a day when 

the temperatures hit a frosty 40 Celsius [Eh? – 

MS]. Luckily, I had my drycag to keep me toasty 

warm. Low levels made this a bit disappointing, 

an attitude that the weir didn’t improve. Stopped 

above it, a random paddler on the bank showed 

us the ‘line’ with his hand. Having seen two 

people go down with varying success, I headed 

for the same line. It would appear that the line 

between two boulders was a) crunchy, b) 

narrower than a boat and c) not really that 

feasible. Another swim point for rolling. We 

probably should have pondered why the paddler 

showing us the ‘line’ was stood on the bank 

carrying his boat around the weir. 

Rob Byrne 

For Sale 

Ace plastic kayak 

Blue, 4m long 

With paddle 

Good condition 

£150 ono 

Tel: 01253 895091 



Derwent Water 

Sunday 19th October, 2003 

Paddlers: Tom, Chris, Janet, Clive, Janet, Ian, 

Nick, Eileen, Peter, Tony, John, Pauline, Alan, 

Lesley, Joanne, Stephanie, Steve, Bev and very 

briefly a stray dog called Molly. 

Sixteen of us set off this morning from our 

launch point next to the landing stages at 

Keswick and once we were all on the water (no 

quick procedure itself) we made our way slowly 

down the eastern side of the lake. We set off in 

very calm weather though the clouds were 

clinging to the tops of some of the mountains 

and there was very little sunshine. 

The water levels are very low at the moment and 

those of us paddling round to the left of Lord’s 

Island might have found it easier to walk. We 

managed to paddle without actually scraping the 

bottom of the boats but it was a close run thing. 

Having met up again on the other side of the 

island we made our way, in a rather straggly 

group, towards one of the hotels at the end of the 

lake. 

One of the books, which several of us flat 

waterers now own, warns of floating islands in 

Derwent Water apparently caused by a build up 

of natural gas which forces the lake bottom to 

www.ribblecanoeclub.co.uk 

the surface. Now I don’t know much physics but 

it strikes me that however much buoyancy a boat 

has it will fail to float should a giant gas bubble 

burst beneath it, so I paddled today half 

expecting to be dragged downwards by a huge, 

malevolent vortex – bad things always happen to 

me! Fortunately we didn’t find any islands that 

floated although there was one which normally 

consists of just a few rocks but today was 

largish, flattish and covered with cormorants, a 

measure of just how low the water was. 

As we made our rather stately progress to the 

foot of the lake we began to notice a swell that 

every now and then would increase ominously. 

The rather large wake created by the ferries 

couldn’t account for all of this and under 

lowering skies we decided to cross the lake 

before the weather deteriorated enough to made 

life difficult (or interesting, it all depends on 

your point of view really). Tony felt it was 

already interesting enough and decided to stay 

on the eastern side, have his picnic and make his 

way back to Keswick at his own speed.


We were paddling into a fairly stiff wind on our 

way back up the lake but it was a very pleasant 

trip all the same. The autumn colours were 

beautiful but just how long the leaves were going 

to stay on the trees is anyone’s guess. 

Having crossed the lake without any problems 

we pulled up on a long shingle beach and sat 

under some pine trees to have our lunch. While 

we were eating we noticed another couple of 

kayakers heading our way and watched them for 

a while until Tom and Chris recognized them as 

Steve and Bev so went down to the edge of the 

lake to meet them. We also half expected to see 

Nick and Sam when a little border terrier took an 

interest in our picnics. We’ve no idea who she 

belonged to but she was called Molly and 

although timid became quite attached to us (at 

least while there was food around). Joanne and 

Stephanie wanted to keep her; there was some 

suggestion that we should put her into a boat 

then ring her owners from the middle of the lake 

and ask them to come and fetch her but, in the 

end, we left her behind. She tried to follow us 

into the lake, so in a sense she did paddle with 

us, but it was just too chilly. Hope she found her 

way home, she probably lives locally and was on 

the scrounge. 

We began to cross the lake when we reached 

Lingholm Isands and realised Tony had the right 

idea all along as it was far more sheltered that 

side of the lake. We gradually all made our way 

back to the landing stages; Steve and Bev carried 

on back down the lake to the car park they had 

started from and Tony arrived back more or less 

the same time as everyone else. 

The trudge up the slope back to the car park 

pretty well finished some of us off. Family 

commitments meant that Chris and I had to head 

straight for home but I believe there was an 

expedition into Keswick to search for a watering 

hole. 

Janet Porter 

Boat loans 

Please would everybody take note of the 

following important points regarding loan 

equipment, especially boats: 

You MUST arrange loans beforehand by 

phoning Steve Swarbrick, preferably on a 

Monday evening. It is no good just turning up at 

the Hand & Dagger on a Wednesday night and 

expecting to be able to take what you need, since 

other committee members cannot authorise loans 

if Steve is unavailable. 

Loans are for 1 WEEK ONLY unless 

previously arranged. If you need a boat or 

equipment for a Sunday trip, you are welcome to 

pick it up on a Wednesday and return it the next 

Wednesday. If you keep equipment for longer 

than this without arranging it with Steve then 

you are depriving other club members of the use 

of it. 



Ribble CC Library 

The book and video library is open to all club members, young or old, new or long-standing. I take 

the library to the Hand & Dagger most Wednesday nights, and if you can’t get there and want a 

book just give me a ring or email me. Donations of books or videos are always welcome. 

If you read a book and liked (or loathed) it let me know and I’ll print your comments. 

Technique 

books: 

General technique 

BCU Canoe and Kayak 

Handbook 

Franco Ferrero 

The Practical Guide to 

Kayaking and Canoeing 

Bill Mattos, Andy Middleton 

This book is now available in the 

discount book shops at £4.99, and 

if you want to know more about 

virtually all aspects of canoeing 

this will be money well spent. 

Canoeing & Kayaking 

Marcus Bailie 

Kayak 

William (not Bill) Nealy 

Kayaking and 

Playboating 

The Playboater's 

Handbook 

Ken Whiting 

Open Canoeing 

Path of the Paddle: An 

Illustrated Guide to the 

Art of Canoeing 

Bill Mason, Paul Mason 

Canoeing 

Laurie Gullion 

Open Canoe Technique 

Nigel Foster 

Sea Kayaking 

Sea Kayak Navigation 


Rolling 

The Bombproof Roll and 

Beyond! 

Paul Dutky 

Safety 

White Water Safety & 

Rescue 


Guidebooks: 

English White Water 


Are there any of this guy’s books 

we haven’t got? 

Scottish White Water 

Andy Jackson 

White Water Lake 

District 

Stuart Miller 

An Atlas of the English 

Lakes 

John Parker 

Expeditions: 

Blazing Paddles: A 

Scottish Coastal Oddysey 

Brian Wilson 

Dancing with Waves: 

Around Ireland by Kayak 

Brian Wilson 

Paddling to Jerusalem 

David Aaronovitch 

The Last River 

Todd Balf 

“One of the worst books I have 

read in a long time” (Terry 

Maddock) 

www.ribblecanoeclub.co.uk 

Paddle to the Arctic 

Don Starkey 

“He really doesn’t know what 

he’s doing” (Martin Russell) 

Canoeing across Canada 

Gary & Joanie McGuffin 

General: 

The Rough Guide to 

Weather 

Robert Henson 

The Liquid Locomotive 

John Long (ed) 

Many Rivers to Run 

Dave Manby, donated by Andy 

Dowe 

Signed by Dave Manby so might 

be worth something! 

Videos / DVDs 

LVM Lunch Video 

Magazine (DVD) 

Donated by Tom Kington 

Liffey Descent (V) 

Donated by Tony Moxham 

Deliverance (V) 

BBFC rated 18. 

Extreme Sports 

Canoeing (V) 

Donated by Terry Maddock 

Well, actually, donated by 

somebody unknown who lent it to 

Terry and never got it back! 

A Taste of White 

Water (V) 

Donated by Brian Woodhouse


Competition News 

Richard Draper (a 12 year old J14) has been 

promoted to Division 2 K1 slalom. 

Having had a bad start to the season, breaking 

his wrist “dropping in” on his roller blades 

and missing most of the early events, towards 

the end of the season he scored a second at 

Oughtibridge (952 points) and a third at 

Sowerby Bridge (857 points). In both cases he 

was only beaten by seniors and a J18. 

With the 741 points he scored at Stone in 

June his top three events give him 2550 

points, 50 points more than needed for 

promotion. 

Moving up to Division 2 will be a big step for 

Richard, so he is going to have to train hard 

over the winter. Anyone who fancies joining 

in with Richard please get in touch. 

Jacky Draper 

Editor’s bit 

Bumper Christmas Issue! 

Well, we’re nearly at the end of this bumper 

Christmas issue of “Tales from the 

Riverbank”. I’m sure this is far and away the 

biggest newsletter we’ve ever produced, and I 

hope you have all enjoyed the variety of 

articles in it. 

My hearty thanks go to all of you who gave 

me contributions to this, and indeed to all of 

this year’s newsletters. 

To those of you who haven’t contributed yet, 

why not give it a go? You don’t have to be 

Shakespeare to be able to tell everybody 

about a trip you’ve been on - you should see 

Tim’s articles before I edit them into English! 

The large trip reports which we publish are 

always interesting, but I’m sure there’s a lot 

of trips which take place which never get a 

write up, so come on, put pen to paper or 

fingers to keyboard and tell me what’s been 

going on! 

So long, and thanks… 

I, and the whole committee, would like to 

thank Chris most sincerely for the effort he 

has put into the club during his time on the 

committee. 

I’m sure Chris won’t be able to keep 

completely out of things, and I’m sure on 

Wednesday nights we’ll hear him telling us in 

no uncertain terms what we should be doing! 

Christmas greetings 

On behalf of the committee, I’d like to wish 

everybody a very Merry Christmas and a 

Happy New Year! 

Dates and deadlines 

The next committee meeting will be on 

January 6 th at 7:30 at the Hand & Dagger. The 

next newsletter will be published on January 

20 th . All submissions to me by Saturday 

January 17 th at the latest please. 


martin@stockdale.fsbusiness.co.uk 

As mentioned elsewhere, Chris Porter has 

been forced to resign from the committee due 

to pressure of work. 



Pool sessions 

The following lists the pool sessions booked at Fulwood Leisure Centre, the contact for the courses 

and the lifeguard on duty for each session. All sessions are Friday 9:00pm – 10:00pm. 

Special Event: Touring & Sea boat rescue, safety and rolling 

The special event on February 27 th is aimed at our increasingly large and enthusiastic touring and 

sea kayaking sections. Flat water is often seen as safe water but many people have come to realise 

only too late that it can be every bit as treacherous as the moving stuff – or more so! 

Steve Swarbrick will be arranging this session with the support of our more experienced touring and 

sea paddlers. The purpose will be to give you a chance to learn about and try out the sort of rescue 

and safety techniques which are specifically relevant to touring. 

Paddlers of any sort of touring boat are welcome: sea or touring kayak or canoe. The only rule is 

that no short boats are allowed! 

Special Event: Slalom Training 

Jacky Draper has volunteered to pull together some proper Slalom training sessions in the early part 

of the new year so that our competitors are raring to go at the start of the season! If you’ve not tried 

slalom before, why not come along and give it a try – it’s one of the best ways of learning boat 

control there is! Please could all our experienced slalom competitors give Jacky as much help as 

possible at these sessions. 

DATE SESSION CONTACT LIFEGUARD 

28 th November Polo Phil & Lorraine Haworth John Kington 

5 th December Polo Phil & Lorraine Haworth Sara Withall 

12 th December Open N/A Andy Rushton 

9 th January Open N/A Peter Benett 

16 th January Slalom training Jacky Draper John Kington 

23 rd January Beginners Course Tom Byrne Sara Withall 

30 th January Beginners Course Tom Byrne Andy Rushton 

6 th February Beginners Course Tom Byrne Peter Benett 

13 th February Slalom training Jacky Draper John Kington 

20 th February Open N/A 

27 th February Sea/Touring Rescue Steve Swarbrick 

5 th March Slalom training Jacky Draper 

12 th March Rolling Course Bob Smith 



2 nd April Open N/A 

Prices: Beginners Course £20 (plus club membership) 

Rolling Course £15 (plus club membership) 

All other sessions (Open, polo, special) £3 

Please book in advance for the Beginners and Rolling Courses by phoning the named contact. 


Other 

Junior Polo 

Ladies Polo 

Mens Polo 

Advanced Slalom 

Beginners Slalom 

Canoe Surfing 

Open Canoeing 

Sea Trips 

Intermediate 

River Trips 

Advanced 

River Trips 

Beginners 

River Trips 

Flat Water & 

Lake Trips 

Social Events 

Hand & Dagger 

Keyholder 

Lifeguard 

Instructor or 

Coach 

Canoe Courses 

Access 

Agreements 

General 

Information 

Committee 

Area of Interest 

Ribble Canoe Club 

Help List 

Contact 

Telephone 

Number 

Andy Dowe 

Rolling Course 

Bob Smith 


Website 

Chris & Janet Porter 

Dave Ellison 

Christmas Party 

Ian McCrerie 

 

Jacky Draper 

Treasurer John Kington 

Library 

Paddles Up competition 

Secretary, Newsletter Martin Stockdale 

Mick Huddlestan 

 

 

Nick Pope & Sam 

Turner 

Peter Jones 

Phil Haworth 

Simon Cole 

Quartermaster Steve Swarbrick 

 

Chairman 

Training Coordinator Calendar 

Steve Wilkinson 

Terry Maddock 

Tim Langridge 

D'Ribbler's Award 

(swim reports) 

Tom Byrne

Ribble Canoe Club 

CALENDAR 

This Month: November/December 2003 

Last minute trips organised at Hand & Dagger (Weds, 6:30pm onwards) or Fulwood Leisure Centre (Fri, 9:00pm). 

If you have any dates for the calendar please contact Terry Maddock 

ibble CC organised trips are in bold. 

Other Ribble CC events are in italic. 

River information: 

Burrs 0161 764 9649 

www.activity-centre.freeserve.co.uk 

Canolfan Tryweryn 01678 520826 

www.welsh-canoeing.org.uk 

Teeside Barrage 01642 678000 

www.4seasons.co.uk 

Washburn 07626 978654 

yorkshire.bcu.org.uk/washburn.htm 

Wharfe 

yorkshire.bcu.org.uk/wharfe.htm 

Trips / Events 

November 

23 Wharfe White Water 

Hebden to Barden, N.Yorkshire 

Steve Wilkinson 

23 Leven Open White Water 

Newby Bridge, Cumbria (£2.00) 

Sten Sture (to book) 01229 582257 

30 Ure Moving Water Trip 

R. Ure, West Yorkshire 


December 

5 Christmas Party 

Ferraris, Chipping Rd, Thornley 

Ian McCrerie 

7 Beginners' Trip 

R. Lune, Halton, Lancaster 

Terry Maddock 




14 R. Greta White Water 

Keswick 

Grahame Coles 




21 R. Crake White Water 

Coniston Water to Greenod 

Tony Morgan 

31 / 1 New Year Barn Camp and Bonfire 

Party 

Wrostler's Barn, East side of 

Coniston Water 


January 



Terry Maddock 

6 Committee Meeting 

Hand & Dagger, Catforth 


11 Kent White water (Grade 4) 

R. Kent, Kendal 

Tony Morgan 

18 Leven White Water 


Tony Davis 

18 Flat Water Tour 

Rufford Canal 

Tom Byrne 

20 Newsletter deadline 


25 Moving Water Practice 


Tim Langridge 




February 


R.Wenning, Bentham, N.Yorks 

Terry Maddock 




8 Upper Lune White Water 

R. Lune, Tebay to R. Rawthey 

TBA 

15 Flat Water Tour 

R. Derwent, York 

Tom Byrne 

15 Eden White Water 

R.Eden, Lazonby, Cumbria 


22 Leven White Water 


Tim Langridge 

26 Annual General Meeting 

Fulwood Leisure Centre 


29 Calder Moving Water 

R. Calder, Great Harwood 


March 


R. Rothay, Rydal, Cumbria 

Terry Maddock 

Slalom 

See www.canoeslalom.co.uk for event 

details 

No dates for the Stafford & Stone mini 

slaloms yet, please check with Jacky 

Draper for details. 

Full Slalom calendar to follow in January 

newsletter! 

Polo

March - Ribble Canoe Club

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