Dear Friends and Supporters,

I did it - 125 miles in four days in a kayak. It was the most gruelling feat I have ever tackled and it was certainly harder than I had anticipated. There were many times when I thought I wouldn't make the distance and countless obstacles (aggressive swans, car break-in, infernal portages, and severe fatigue) conspired to defeat me, but to no avail.

Thanks for all your encouragement and sponsorship. At the last count you have all helped me raise £600 for WaterAid - a charity which uses practical solutions to provide safe water, effective sanitation and hygiene education for the world’s poorest people. I really appreciate your support. For a blow by blow account of the highs and lows of my Easter on the water click 'Read more' below. Best wishes, Guy

 

Day 1: Light at the end of the tunnel
Devizes to Newbury
34 miles

Accidentally spraying myself in my left eye with Deep Heat on the morning of the first day wasn't an auspicious start, though I quickly regained composure thanks to the hearty fry-up prepared by the landlady at the B&B (B&B hospitality is fantastic - I can't imagine you get bacon and eggs on demand at 5:50am at most hotels). 

We (my brother Paul and I) then set off in the car for the start at Devizes Wharf.  While offloading my plastic 14-foot kayak I quickly realised I would be in trouble as I was the odd one out. Everyone else for this year's Devizes to Westminster Canoe Marathon had much longer and faster carbon fibre boats. Also, most were double kayaks, meaning double the manpower. My kit was checked over, I picked up my race number (711) and then got my wristband (it's a bit disconcerting when you are given a military-style wristband with an emergency number on it for anyone to ring if they fish you out of the water). Anyway, it was no time for second thoughts.

I got in and set off down the Kennet and Avon canal for the 34-mile first leg of the four-day challenge. All seemed to go well at first. No locks to negotiate for the first three hours and plenty of cheers from spectators on bridges over the canal. I moored up and got out of my kayak for a leisurely snack with my brother at 11am and a much-needed toilet stop. The rain then started pouring down and we were approached by two members of the race's safety crew, both in high visibility vests. They said I had been spotted. Did that mean I was doing well?! No, it meant I was in a slow boat and had been out of the water resting for too long already. If I was to complete 34 miles in the first day within 10 hours (the requirement to continue with the race on the following day), I was urged to get a move on. I got back in my kayak and headed off with a renewed sense of urgency. I was beginning to enjoy the scenery - the Westbury White Horse on my left and a nesting swan on the right - when a swan suddenly started running on the water straight at me with its wings flapping manically. It was protecting its mate on the bank and it terrified me. It landed a few feet from my kayak and I gingerly paddled to the opposite side of the canal, only to be followed by the swan which then started whacking its wings against my boat. It only gave up when another kayak came into view - a new target to attack.

Shortly thereafter I came to the first lock and the first opportunity to portage (take your boat out of the water, go round the lock and put it back in the water on the other side). I knew there were 77 portages along the whole route, but had failed to register the enormity of the task involved in moving my heavy boat in and out of the water. I managed to put my kayak trolley - a contraption with two wheels - under the stern and pull it along (easier than it sounds). A few more locks later and then I hit Crofton Flight - a mile-long string of seven or eight locks where there is really no point in putting your boat back in the water before the next lock. Pulling the kayak on the increasingly ineffectual trolley along the muddy towpath was certainly not what I had anticipated. The trolley fell off repeatedly, I kept on falling over, and I joined a couple of other competitors in a slow trudge through the atrocious conditions.

Getting back on the canal and in the kayak was a welcome break from the heavy lifting along the towpath, but the relief was shortlived as the canal soon disappeared into a 400 metre tunnel. Without a torch I couldn't see my paddle or the front of my boat, only a speck of light at the end of the tunnel and a silhouette of a paddler nearly at the other end. It was scary, especially when I hit the side of the tunnel with my paddle. The guidance for the race says that if you capsize in the tunnel you should use the chains alongside the sides to assist re-entry. I didn't want to have to try!

By this stage I was feeling incredibly light headed and fearful of the monumental task still ahead of me on that day and the following three. I thought if I pause now I will never be able to get going again, so I struggled on slowly.

My brother thankfully emerged at the next checkpoint and gave me much-needed fuel - chocolate and energy drinks mixed up with Dioralyte. I usually only take Dioralyte when suffering from a stomach upset in an exotic location, but I was in a desperate state and needed to replenish all those lost fluids and salts fast. I quickly felt a bit better and started to pick up the pace. The next rendez-vous with my brother was slightly more urgent as he told me I was really 'up against it' if I was going to make the 10-hour window. Based on my current lack of progress and his calculations of the distance still to go it wasn't looking promising. I thought I really mustn't fall at the first hurdle (what would all the sponsors say?!) so I soldiered on and started speeding up my portaging (rolling out of the boat onto the towpath isn't elegant but it uses much less energy).

Finally the finish in Newbury came into view and I slowly drifted over it 9 hours and 20 minutes after I had set off. I had avoided relegation by 40 minutes and could now begin to gear up for some more excruciating exertion the following day.

Day 2: Bad news: Car break-in; Good news: Steady progress on the river
Newbury to Marlow
36 miles

Everything was going well until we left the B&B at 6am. As we got into the car we were surprised to see it in such a mess and then realised it had been broken into. One of the quarter light windows had been smashed, there was glass all over the back seat, one of the panels had been removed under the steering wheel in a failed attempt to hotwire the dependable and unstealable Peugeot 306. What had been taken? We rummaged around to check. The kayak was still on the roof, the paddle was still in the car, but the previous night's shopping - chocolate, energy drinks - had gone. We parked up near the river and I desperately set off scavenging for chocolate and energy drinks as you are not allowed to take part unless you have 200 grams of so-called emergency chocolate and 300ml of fluid with you in your kayak. I pounced on a well-organised supporter, told her what had happened and offered to buy some of her excess chocolate and drink. She kindly gave me some Dairy Milk and Lucozade and wouldn't accept any money.

My brother and I then dragged the kayak to the start line for a 7am start. The slowest finishers from the previous day have to start first.

A couple of tricky early portages, but the sun was shining brightly and I was pleased I had made it this far. As the morning continued I kept on getting overtaken by other kayaks and there was much talk about the elusive flow, when the canal meets the Thames and the current really makes progress much easier. By now I had already also mastered eating a Snickers bar with no hands while paddling to save a few precious seconds. A 10-hour time limit was also applied to the second day and the distance to cover was 36 miles - two miles more than the previous day.

Once we hit Reading the flow began in earnest and everyone really started to pick up speed as we snaked through the heart of the Oracle - Reading's shopping centre - to the bemusement of many shoppers.

A few hours on and the scenery became spectacular around Henley. Beautiful waterfront houses and gardens and fields stretching into the distance. Yet by now it was late afternoon and most of the kayakers had already zoomed past me, so I was pretty much on my own. The light-headedness that had troubled me so badly the day before returned and I resorted to the unimaginative but effective method of counting from one to a hundred and then starting again just to keep going and not to let my mind think about giving up.

After a few more well-timed and morale-boosting and refuelling pit-stops arranged by my brother I got to the finish at  Longridge just outside Marlow after 8.5 hours.

Day 3: Carry, drag and enjoy
Marlow to Ham
38 miles


By now I had really realised that a plastic 23-kilo kayak is a monumental disadvantage for the DW (as the race is commonly known), especially when compared to the lighter and easier-to-carry kayaks. But the one advantage of a owning a plastic behemoth is that it is robust and doesn't need any duct-tape repairs. Therefore, I took the strategic decision that if I was to complete the challenge I had to expend as little effort as possible at each portage. It was time to ditch the kayak trolley (it was tricky securing it under the webbing after each portage and it added a vital few kilos to the overall weight of my craft). So, whenever I came to a portage I would now just drag the kayak along the towpath/grass/road/over bridges to where it had to go. It made a ghastly grating noise whenever I crossed roads or bumped it down steps and the plastic has been gouged in numerous places, but better that than a knackered shoulder or losing time fitting and unfitting that kayak trolley. I did get a few cheers and a few odd looks from spectators as I just dragged my boat with an air of resignation.

As the day wore on the sun rose and I even had to put my sunglasses on. I even started to enjoy the journey and I completed the rest of the 38 miles for that day at a leisurely pace. Without a 10-hour window to worry about and a fast-flowing stream, it was the perfect way to spend an Easter Sunday. And the riverside views were fantastic, including Windsor Castle and Hampton Court. Time on the water, something like 7.5 hours.

Day 4: A day for the unsinkables
Ham to Westminster
17 miles

Queuing up at the riverbank for the mass start on the final day I was promised by numerous competitors that this was to be my day. This was when it would be beneficial having an unsinkable, stable and heavy kayak as opposed to a racing machine. The mass start was great fun to watch and I had a fantastic viewing position at the back as all the dynamo arms of the serious competitors ensured that they acclerated away from me pretty quickly. 

I was now on familiar territory on the tidal Thames as I have been training from Putney, so I knew what to expect and could enjoy the paddle. A few pleasure craft roared past creating a few unnerving waves, but otherwise it was a fairly quick, pleasant and uneventful journey through Richmond, Putney, Wandsworth, Battersea and Chelsea.

The sight of Big Ben was an emotional moment. On the first day it had seemed inconceivable that I would ever get this far. Seeing Westminster Bridge in the distance I tried to manage a sprint to the finish, although I'm sure it wasn't that quick. I followed a couple of other kayaks through the arch on the right-handside of the bridge to the applause of spectators on the bridge and lining the bank. Elation and exhaustion, and only a 2.5-hour paddle.

Over the four days I completed the total distance in 27 hours and 29 minutes. That put me in 40th place in the single kayak category. I was the last of the finishers in that category, but I was delighted to finish (eight had to drop out early). 

Never again? Not yet sure. Or even an upgrade to the non-stop version of the same race in a double kayak? Any volunteers to join me for that next year?!