All the Way Round Read Online Free PDF Page B

From then on, there would be no more rain or humidity until the next Wet Season.
    Coming from England I found it hard to believe seasons could change so quickly and dramatically, literally over dinner. It takes so long in England to move from summer to winter they put another season in between and call it autumn.
    I set up my tent without a fly sheet under the shade of the shelter. Even though I was in the path of any stray breezes, I still found myself lying in a pool of sweat. The oncoming night-fall promised only light relief from the heat and humidity. But at 8 pm salvation came in the form of one of the most dramatic and welcome weather events I have ever witnessed.
    I had a handheld weather recorder, which recorded the temperature, barometric pressure, wind strength and even told the time. Over the period of an hour the temperature dropped from 35°C to 25°C, and the humidity disappeared. The Wet had broken.
    The sudden change in temperature caused condensation to form on the tent and this was now dripping onto a shivering, naked and bewildered kayaker. But it was great to feel the cold. There was no escape from the oppressive heat but I could bury myself in my sleeping bag to beat the chill. I settled back down for a good night’s sleep.
    Next day I was reborn, energised. I was no longer making the slow measured moves born of exhaustion, I was jumping out of my skin.
    The wildlife had changed from the day before. The sandflies and mosquitoes that had plagued me previously had disappeared, other insects had arrived and new sounds were bringing the bush alive. The wind was now blowing from the east, replacing the headwinds I’d struggled against, and the humidity was gone. Things were going my way.
    I realised by now I’d have to plan the paddling around the 8-metre tides along this coast. High tide occurred every twelve hours and here it happened to fall at midday and midnight. I decided to try to launch and land as close as I could to high tide. My next destination, Eighty Mile Beach, would take me a few days to cross. It was gently sloping and, with such a big difference between the tides, if I tried to land when it was low there would be a couple of huge carries to reach a campsite above the high-tide mark.
    I had planned to leave Cape Jaubert at high tide but I slept past midnight, so opted for a 2 am start. This would give me a bit more sleep while still allowing me to find the high tide close to my camp and so spend less time paddling in the dark. I didn’t much like paddling unknown waters in the dark, but as with much of the trip I had to work with a compromise between the potential dangers and making progress.
    Phosphorescence is caused by the presence of blooming phytoplankton which lights up when disturbed, such as in surf or when hit by a kayak or paddle. On this night it was as bright as I’ve ever seen it. It was like a firework display as the fish darted off port and starboard in a flash of light as the bow disturbed them. Even without the fish my paddle left swirls of dying light behind me with every stroke and the bow carved out its path with two lines of lights trailing behind.
    I settled into the rhythm, relaxing as the hypnotic lights of the ocean played on my drowsy mind when, bang! It only took a second to register what had happened, I went cold and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. Shark! In the moment it took for that to register, it was all over. The shark realised his mark was not what he expected and let go. In the dark it couldn’t see that it was my rudder making a ‘noise’ like something was struggling, promising an easy meal.
    I’d just gotten over that and started to move again when, whack! Another hit. After a few hits I realised the shark had no intention of holding on and struggling with the rudder, so I relaxed a bit. Over the next two days, I would be hit about every two hours—if I had stressed each time, I would have been in a right state.
    I rarely got to see