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Hubris in Paradise

I cannot kayak. This I now know for a fact. A deeply concerning fact…

After a morning of exploring Townsville, I hitch a ride with over to Magnetic Island with Derek from Winner Kayaks. He is kindly lending me both a sea kayak and a mountain bike for tomorrow’s Adventurethon.

He has suggested we head over to the island early, to help set up for the event and give me a chance to learn how to kayak before the big day. He is a wise man. He also has the most adorable dog, called Bandit.

We arrive to a cyclone of activity…and the tail end of an actual cyclone, which makes setting up the event tents and flags particularly difficult. More concerning, however, is the effect the cyclone is having on the waters. They are…choppy.

However, with about 16 hours left until the 13km sea kayak part of my Adventurethon, there is no choice – I have to take the kayak out for a spin. Unluckily for me, that spin happens to be around the central axis of the kayak. Within three minutes of leaving the shore, I capsize it and plunge into the sea.

“No problem” I think, as my sunglasses float off into the horizon on an adventure of their own, “I’ll simply try again.”

It is a fine plan. In fact, it has but one minor hitch. In my hurry to learn how to paddle across the open sea, I have foolishly neglected to find out how to actually get into the kayak.

So, instead of hopping back aboard and continuing my journey, I flounder like a fish out of water…

…a fish out of water, who has forgotten to wear a life jacket. Or a…land jacket. Whatever fish wear on their travels.

As I dance this most pitiful of oceanic fandangos, I have flashbacks to Thailand 2007 when my brother in thunder, Matt Bunn, and I capsized a sea tryak (a kayak for three) somewhere off the coast of Koh Phi Phi.

As the waves carried us steadily towards the rocks, we fought to climb back into the vessel without overturning it and nearly drowned from laughter in the process. Eventually, I haven’t the faintest idea how, we succeeded – I even kept hold of the empty sack of rice I had leapt overboard to capture as booty.

This time, however, the Sea Gods are not smiling on me.

A dozen times I try to get back into the kayak and a dozen times it throws me out. It bucks like a bronco and it spins like a samurai until I – paddle in hand – am hanging from its prow, exhausted. Feebly, I attempt to swim it back to shore before the sea swallows me whole. It is not going well.

Luckily, two fellow Adventurethoners (from Outer Limits Adventure) have noticed my plight and, within minutes, have kayaked out and are hauling me back to shore. I am, essentially, rescued. Like a damsel. A hairy, angry damsel.

If there was any doubt in my mind before, it is almost entirely gone now. I cannot see how I will complete the Adventurethon; I have been here 24 hours and already been hauled from the sea in a tangle of hats and pride.

I am doomed.

Such is the price of my arrogance.

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