Tim Blundell, called me and asked, “do you know anyone of your mates that want to go to Corsica, kayaking.” This was early 2011.
Well, I gave it a few seconds and replied, “Yes, me I want to come.”
With that, I was set to go to Corsica steep creeking.
The plans were simple leave Friday 1st April, Stirling – Scotland drive to Tim’s house in Penrith, off load the kit to his van. Meet with Sam Harvey. Drive to Dover and catch the ferry to France. Drive through Europe to Italy. Catch a second ferry to Corsica. Meet up with Marcus Olivant, as he decided to fly there. Kayak Sunday through to Friday, and then come home.
Simple. Well it was simple in my head. However, I needed to tell Arlene, my wife. Now, this is where it gets tricky. Why? Well, after coming back from Japan kayaking with Ian and Giles we planned our next trip to Africa in 2011. This cost me a nice dinner, flowers and one or two other persuasive gestures.
So, with Corsica, came the booking of a nice little Italian I know. After the second course and a bottle of wine I slipped in…”yes, I’m going to Corsica kayaking with Tim on 1st April.” into the conversation. I can’t quite recall if it went quiet at that stage or a retort of, “oh no you’re not” was uttered. Anyway, the seed was planted and I had went to the French Alps with Tim, kayaking, and later after that, to Slovenia, but, I didn’t really know Sam. I had met him briefly but never paddled with him.
Marcus had found out about our plans to Corsica on the web and dropped a message to Tim asking to come along. So, I didn’t really know Marcus, but, I did meet him at the APWE when I was giving a wee chat about our Japan trip.
So, Tim opened up a bank account and I started to transfer cash. There was no going back.
Tim, booked the two ferries. One from Dover to Calais the other from Pissa to Corsica. However, on out return journey we left from Corsica to Nice and travelled back through France.
As the time drew closer to the Friday 1st April the text and e-mails were getting more and more.
Insurance was bought, new kit bought, kit checked, money transferred, food bought all the usual things prior to heading off.
I hadn’t been to Corsica before but knew it was a special place and I had heard of many a tale. However, this was a change for me as it was my first trip away without Ian or Giles. The three of us have formed a real understanding and of each others needs on and off the water, but I was looking forward to forging new relationships with other dudes.
I didn’t even look at the rivers we would be paddling in Corsica and thought I would just go with the flow. This was to suite me just fine.
31st March 2011, the eve of heading to Tims house my kit was checked and packed. The alarm was set for 05:30 hrs with a view to be leaving for 06:00 hrs and giving plenty of time to get to Tims.
No sooner than I closed my eyes, I awoke at 05:28 hrs, 2 minutes before the alarm was due to go off.
I drew back the covers, got changed, had breakfast packed the last few things said cheerio to Arlene and drove to Tims place.
I said hello to Tim and had a coffee before Sam turned up. We packed the van and were heading to the coast before 09:00 hrs.
Making good time we hopped on the 16:20 hrs ferry to France. Once at France we drove through Belgium, Switzerland, Luxemburg and onto Italy to catch the ferry from Livorno to Bastia, in Corsica. The crossing was about four hours and we landed on Sunday 3rd April, 17:30 hrs.
We drove to a camp site near the River Golo and arrived about 18:30 hrs. During dinner plans were made to kayak the lower Golo in the morning and then the upper Golo in the afternoon. I graded the lower at GIII and the upper G IV. However, as my good friend Craig Dearing said there are only 2 grades. Yes or no! I stuck to that for the rest of the week knowing that it would stand me in good stead. The lower Golo was great for a warm up. It gave me, Tim and Sam a chance to suss out each other and get a grip of the water and environment we would be boating in for the next few days, or so.
For those paying attention reading this, you’ll notice that there is no mention of Marcus. Well, he was held up with mist at one of the airport. However, as we moved to paddle the upper section of the Golo, we arranged to meet him at the get out.
The upper Golo was awesome. The grade had jumped up and there were numerous little drops. There was even one like the 2nd crack on the Etive, but a bit bigger. Kayak close to the wall, right boof-to-turn, 45 degrees, and land with a catch on the left to paddle out. Saweet as! As we paddled towards the end we met up with another group. They had eddied out above the last drop with some already at the bottom. I could see from the groups signals the line to paddle, and indeed I got a thumbs up to paddle it. I paddled towards it at about an 135 degree angle to the current, using a cross grain left boof stroke on the downstream face to jump over a wee stopper, I continued the cyclic action on the left and stretched for a left catch to paddle out of the feature. I paddled into the eddy and saw Marcus on the bank looking on. As we got off the water we all introduced ourselves recited stories on the Golo and headed to our camp site.
Marcus got himself sorted out and we all settled down into the night time regime of cooking dinner, washing and heading off to bed.
Monday morning I awoke. Although it was warm during the day it was cold at night! I mentioned to the guys if they were cold also. Sure enough Tim and Sam were cold. From that night on I was wrapped up with three thermals on top, thermal long johns, thermal socks, and a beanie hat all wrapped up in my ‘three seasons sleeping bag’! Yeah right, three seasons my behind! Three seasons if you’re camping in the house! Anyway, lesson one learned!
Once we had our breakfast we struck camp and about 09:00hrs and headed towards the Travo with a view to wild camp that night for the Fium Orbo, the following day.
The Travo would find us gelling as a team, realise our first swimmer and learn lessons meeting other groups.
The Travo was only paddalable on Mondays and Fridays due to fishing agreements, rather than water levels. Because of this we met up with other British groups of which Andy Holt was with four friends was in one. We would eventually meet up with them again and have a BBQ on the Friday night at their place.
I had my dry suite with me and as we were getting on the river my neck seal ripped! There were words cussed under my breath as I articulated to my friends what had just happened. As we had done the shuttle my substitute dry top was at the get out. I did the only thing I could and tightened the Velcro as tight as I could take round my neck and get on with it. As we came to the first rapid I quickly forgotten all abut it.
We tried as best to read and run the rivers and inspect when we were in doubt. In addition to this we tried to have one person out of the boat at a time and where it was passable they would articulate the line from the bank. However, if we needed to get out and look the person would indicate this, as well.
The first boulder garden was fun and I managed to get some video footage. The next rapid however, had some of the group out looking at the line. We were also in tandem with another group, as it was very busy, and they were providing safety at the bottom. Tim was doing a good job of articulating the line and the guys wee ready at the bottom. Sitting in the eddy at the top I was reading those inspecting the rapid as well as the water I could see. All the non verbal’s and visual signs were intimating we had a bit of a nut to crack. I asked Tim the line from my boat and confirmed it a second time. I had a ‘word’ with myself in the eddy and got my ‘game face on’ before I committed from the eddy. I was determined to make a good account of myself today and throughout the trip. I was physically fit and more so mentally prepared in my wee head of mine, but, I didn’t want to be a ‘passenger’ on any of the rapids and get a leathering.
This was like my last time on Right Angle. It was medium level. I was switched off and went over the drop with what could be as well as described as out for a cup of tea and cake! Needless to say I took a good ‘doing’ in the bottom. This was not going to happen now!
The line was right of a boulder pour over, taking the high tongue of water extreme river right, cross from right to left through the rather grippy hole.
As I came off the high tongue of water I could see the closed end grippy hole and the 2 lads waiting with lines on either side of the river, right and left. I took a couple of power strokes and on my last one I delayed it to time my catch-to-boof at the last possible second to take me over the hole. Next thing I know I’m in the eddy!
This rapid was to see the rest of the group inverted at some stage and take two swimming!
We eventually came to the big slides and were still in partnership with the other foreign team of paddlers. We would set safety up and let them pass and they would do the same. Our bond was forming, to fail massively.
We eventually came to a portage. It looked liked a simple line river right to a boof on the river right, however, a hideous siphon and other nasties awaited the keen amateur paddler! Whilst inspecting this I could hear the smaller boulders move and grind whilst the water was churning through the cataract.
The portage was on river left and looked quite a simple seal launch off a platform. This ended up turning into passing the equipment down and swimming over to the other side.
As the two groups started to become one during the portage our kit and the other teams kit became one. We threw (well I did to start with) paddles. I threw them a bit hard and they landed on the rocks. One was mine the others I was sure belonged to Marcus. Anyway, the boys on the other side shouted to pass them into the water. Tim, then went to pass a set over. They were thrown with as much TLC as one could give, but the wind caught them and they fluttered in the air and landed on the rocks. This time they de-laminated the tip of the paddle, a wee bit. The paddle belonged to one of the other groups. The group that we had leapfrogged and worked with so well.
They were not happy, at all! They got in their boats and motored away from us. We eventually caught them at the get out and apologised and even offered to reimburse them. I and others were so gutted over the incident. Anyway, money was not changed but Tim gave them the rest of the Tennents lager we had in the van. It’s amazing what giving a semi crate of beer does to people…no sooner they took it we were all pals again.
We would meet up again on the penultimate day. This time I would be using their team Doctor!
Once we got off the river we headed to a rough camp site to strike the Fuim Orbo the following day.
It was Monday night and dinner was a chicken curry. Once, finished we sat looking towards the stars debating life, the universe and constellations. It was a good laugh and we eventually turned in to bed.
Tuesday morning we woke. After breakfast we struck camp to head towards the Fuim Orbo. Another meaty river with portages! However, one of the portages was over a bridge about 4 meters long, 50cm wide with no railings!
I think as a paddler, I’m okay and can handle most situations I find myself in or indeed managing situations when they go wrong. I do, however, have an Achilles heel. Heights! Ian and Giles know how bad I am. I did mention this to Tim, Sam and Marcus that I did not have a head for heights and that I was a bit of a liability and not to rely on me, at all. During the Travo the team helped me in some portages and more so here portaging round the Rocket on the Fuim Orbo. I don’t know what it is but it doesn’t come over me if I’m going off a vertical drop. There are different feelings and sensations being absorbed.
I didn’t get it though. There was a portage before a rapid called the Rocket. Like, 50 meters before the Rocket. After paddling the Rocket, you would land in a plunge pool and then paddle another 50 meters of flat water and portage round another heinous cataract! So, portage, paddle, portage. The paddle in the middle was seal launching off a ledge then onto paddling the Rocket.
I think this would have taken a group of four about an hour, at least, if they knew what was what and the lay out of the land. It was an easy choice for me. I portaged all of it as did the other dudes.
However, we had to cross the bridge…the 50cm wide bridge! If I was there on a day out walking I wouldn’t have done it. I knew I had to do it to get to the end, but, I would not be able to take my kit over it. Gladly Marcus did this. Indeed, when I came to the bridge I had to go on all fours, just to get over it. Gulp!
I have to personally thank Tim, Sam and Marcus for their help that day. Thank you!
Once finished we headed towards another camp site. This was to be a council municipal run one. The best thing about this was the shower! It was awesome! Another night time regime took us to bed.
In the morning someone drove into the camp site. As we arrived late last night, I’ve assumed it was the Manager, of sort.
He came over had a chat and 20 Euros later he left us to finish off packing up.
This was now Wednesday morning and we were gearing up for the Rizzanese. If I recall the guide book it mentioned to paddle it between 60-90 on the gauge. At the get in it registered 85! A high flow was to follow.
There were two rapids which we portaged, as per the guide book. There were nice slopping drops as we paddled down the river. As we came to the second biggest one at 6m, the run in was easy enough as was the landing and the exit. We got out river right to look and film this one. I was first and got my ‘game face on’. Paddled hard towards it carrying speed, boofed, cycled my action once, caught a catch on the boils and paddled out. Phew!
The others would follow with Tim being last. Tim, however, took a swim and had a massive 13 seconds of downtime in the guts of it! We got him out and back in the boat, but to be fair, Tim was a bit shaken.
We continued our paddle heading towards the biggest drop on the river and indeed the trip, at 10 meters high.
There was a prominent 2-3 meter drop before it and having negotiated this we eddied out river left to have a look.
Marcus had run it the year before and pointed out the line. Extreme river right off a wee kicker then hitting the plunge pool.
Well, I saddled up, had a word with myself and got my game face on for this one. I splashed water on my face as I paddled over to it. At dead speed I approached the drop. What a horizon line to come to! Nudging my nose over I kept my body weight deliberately about 5 degrees forward of centre and gripped my thighs on the boat keeping the nose up, but not landing flat. As I accelerated down the drop I put in a cheeky left stroke to keep my landing pointing down stream and tucked up with my paddle on the left of the boat. The landing was supper soft and I rotated the paddle from the left of the boat to a forward stroke on the right and paddled away from the drop…endorphins laced with adrenalin surged in my arteries and the ‘fix’ was euphoric. The initial fix eased off and levels petered out some minutes after it!
Marcus was next for the buzz. His highs looked similar to mine. There was a wee flaring drop, river left, after this. From there on in the river eased off to a more sedate grade.
However, the day was loosing light; we were tired and looking forward to seeing the car. As we came to the last rapid, I was leading. I dropped into an eddy river left to look at the line down a small boulder choke rapid. But, I couldn’t hold the eddy and found myself getting sucked down this and not knowing the line, backwards. I made it and guided the others down. However, I was disappointed at myself and later articulated this to the guys. I shouldn’t have got into that position, not only for myself, but for my team.
We eventually came to the new hydro station where the river is being run through for power. There was hand shakes and cheering with pats on the backs. Rizzanese, done.
That night we drove to the Ernella camp site, where the Kayak Session festival is being held. This was to be a welcome treat. Mainly from the point of view that we knew where we were going to be camping for the next few nights.
Thursday morning we headed to the middle Veccio! If I knew what was to unfold, I would not have gone!
We got on the river and headed down as normal. Inspection followed by inspection and or portage was the norm for the trips. The level was low and we eventually saw a group walking off the river, river left, due to the levels being low.
As we came to a rapid we decided to portage. I checked the get in, below the rapid, and saw a rather fetching slab that was perfect for seal launching. It was about 10 feet high. I looked and better looked at the plunge pool in which we were landing in. It was clear. HA!
I think Tim was first off the ledge followed by Marcus. My turn, and I’m in my boat getting settled, ratcheting up the back strap getting a really tight fit and pushed off. I missed any forward momentum and pencilled the business out of the seal launch. A fully loaded boat with 15 stone of dead weight dropped on to solid granite, lurking about two feet below the water line.
I landed square on it. The nose of the boat dinked, my foot plate folded 45 degrees and my right lower leg took the brunt! I’m upside down in this plunge pool and the pain struck! I thought I had broken something! I pulled the deck and swam as best as I could to the side, squealing like a stuck pig. The guys pulled me out and got me safe into an eddy. The pain was bad. (All that said it doesn’t count as a swim! I was getting medical treatment ;-)) I kept my foot in the cool water and didn’t want to move it, thinking it was broken! After a few minutes I wiggled it a bit and put some weight on it to ascertain what was what. My assessment was it was not broken!
I was on river right and the guys lined me across river left where the track was. I was walking wounded. The guys stowed the kit, high off the water line and we walked out, or I hobbled. We eventually made it up to the road where we met the other team that had recently walked out. The team that we delaminated their paddle after throwing it in the river! Anyway, they had a doctor and he recommended that I got it x-rayed.
So, to the Hospital in Corte I went. Within 30 minutes or so I had three x-rays and the Doctor reported it wasn’t broken thank goodness!
For me the guys were absolutely spectacular at helping me that afternoon and getting me off the water. Thanks guys!
They eventually sorted the cars and dragged my dinked boat back to the top, leaving their kit, to paddle out the last day of our adventure!
We duly had a team chat about the construction of footplates. We all came to the same conclusion, had it not have failed and folded, I would have broken something, fact. To be fair I did trap my left foot in the plate as it folded and had to re invert myself to pull my foot free, after my first attempt to exit the boat.
Friday morning and I ran the shuttle for the boys. My foot was too sore to put in a boat and I would only have been a liability. I did the shuttle and got some pictures and video footage of the guys. I might not have been with them in person, but I was in spirit. As the guys came off the river the realisation of our Corsican adventure had come to an end. Hand shakes, high fives, smiles, laughs and elations were the order of the day.
I had met up with Kate Howell, from the other group and she was with us at the end, as her group was kayaking the same stretch. She mentioned about the BBQ at her place that night and we gratefully accepted.
So, off to the hypermarket, we threw in about 10 Euro each, for food and drink! Drove back to the camp site and got showered and changed. It was quite exciting. We were going out meeting up with other dudes.
About 19:30 hrs we arrived at Kates Gite. The night was filled with tales, stories, food and drink…it was great. My thanks to all those guys who asked us round. It must have been about 22:00 hrs or so and we headed back to our tents.
At the tents, before we went to bed, we had our final handshakes with Marcus as he was heading off early in the morning. We all duly went to bed.
The following morning myself Tim and Sam were up early to pack and head home. The long journey started with our aim to be back with our loved ones…
The highs, lows, funnies and facts.
There were many highs for me. My favourite river was the upper Golo with the last rapid being the most enjoyable I ran. That said there was a rapid on the same river in which I was that passenger and skimmed my nose off a boulder as I plunged deep into the pool.
I thoroughly enjoyed our teamwork on and off the water. Kayakers are unique in this respect, in my opinion. We share a common aim, to paddle a river, but need help to achieve this aim. Teamwork works and brings the realisation of that aim for each and every one of us.
The lows. Well although I hurt my leg, every cloud has a silver lining. I got to run the shuttle for the boys and get some more pictures and video footage. I even got to see some more of the wonderful scenery. I don’t think I’m a negative person and as such I don’t really have any lows.
As for the funnies…well there is this one story. As I had torn my neck seal on my dry suite I wore my long sleeved cag the following day with my shorts on.
Well, as we were paddling long sections and carrying our kit during portages I started to notice rubbing, or chaffing on my nipples. It’s like joggers nipple. A wee bit of rubbing and it’s a bit sensitive. So when I started to feel this I made some adjustments, all was good. However, I didn’t really ‘adjust myself’ when I popped my shorts on and started to get some chaffing, you know, down below. Well, It was about five centimetres long, the burn that is. I know I’m talented in many ways. Anyway, I showed it to the boys that night as it was quiet sore. Needless to say I ‘sorted myself’ for the following days and hitched my briefs right up round my belly button…
As for facts.
Paddlers: Rivers:
Tim Blundell Golo / Travo / Fium Orbo / Rizzanese / middle Veccio
James Fleming Allow one hour per kilometre if you’re a newbie
Sam Harvey
Marcus Olivant
Mileage: 3000
Fuel used: £600
Ferry: £74 P&O. £265 Corsica
Tolls £130
Swis tax £35
Corsica was and is an awesome place for steep creeking. The scenery is jaw dropping awesome. The season is really short, some three or four weeks at most, as I understand it.
I’d go back in a heart beat and would recommend it to any strong G4 boater to check out.
I now look forward to a change in continent and location. Kenya, Africa early November 2011 will see Myself, Ian and Giles head off to waters and culture anew.
Fortune favours the brave!
James Fleming
On tour, Corsica 2011.
