I always enjoy paddling with my friend Des, but I figured this evening was going to be pretty dull. The forecast was for winds from the North 10-15 knots (18-27 km/hr) and sea state 1-2 metres, which appeared to be swell from the South. If so, we would be partly sheltered by Cape Spear.

As you paddle out of Quidi Vidi, you meet the open ocean. Immediately, you are on the Northwest Atlantic, fully exposed to the East. But, you are also partly sheltered from the South and North. To the South is Cape Spear. To the North are a succession of headlands.

The first headland is Small Point. Rounding it, you enter Robin Hood Bay. At the northern end of Robin Hood Bay is Sugarloaf Head. It is an imposing cliff, easily 200 feet high, with a wicked combination of a shoal and vertical face that both steepens waves and reflects them. Nasty.

What’s key to bear in mind when rounding these headlands is whether they have been giving you shelter. And, if so, what awaits you as you round them. Small Point shelters you only from seas coming from due North. When you round Sugarloaf Head, you have no shelter from the North.

As Des and I paddled out of Quidi Vidi onto the open ocean, we stopped and evaluated, as we always do. Winds from the North 10 knots. Moderate, choppy seas. Good to go, heading North. Our Nordkapps took water over the deck as we headed into the wind and short, steep waves.

We held a course that saw us sheltered by Small Point. I knew there was more on the other side. I just didn’t know how much. I conserved my energy as I paddled upwind. There was a low swell, a metre or so, from the South, opposed to the wind waves from the North. Made it interesting.

We rounded Small Point. Not a big change. I was quizzical. The wind waves from the North were a bit bigger, but I had expected more. We crossed Robin Hood Bay. I eyed the seas off Sugarloaf Head. I didn’t see any breaking waves. Maybe it would be just as dull as I had feared.

Beyond Sugarloaf Head is Logy Bay. But, there is, between the two, one more, less significant headland, Devil’s Point. When you round Sugarloaf Head, you do not see the Marine Lab ... that is half a mile further ... rather what you see is Devil’s Point. Today, it was aptly named.

I am a slow learner. No matter how many times it happens, I continue to be surprised. As we rounded Sugarloaf Head and sighted Devil’s Point everything changed. It was not gradual. It was sudden. It was not incremental. It was fundamentally different. We were in rough conditions.

It wasn’t the wind ... that was constant ... it was the complex sea state. There was a one metre swell from the South. But, there was also now a one to two metre swell from the North. And, the northern wind waves were larger. Plus, there was steep, irregular clapotis from the headland.

Four wave trains were interacting: swell from the North; swell from the South; wind waves from the North; waves reflecting off the cliffs. Des & I have paddled in far worse, but this was no picnic. You had to be alert. Paddle. Tilt the hull. Be driven into a broach. Waves over the deck.
I wanted to see the Marine Lab. When I do so, I can say that I have been in Logy Bay. I paddled closer to Des and called out that maybe it was time to turn. He nodded and smiled. He loves this stuff, but was content. I paddled well wide of the headland. Des was in closer. We kept in sight.

Like a light switch, as we rounded Sugarloaf Head, the challenging seas were gone. Instead, we had a low, but steady following sea. Time to surf! Des goes for it, flat out. I am not that way. I want to harvest the energy of the waves. My goal is efficiency and, yes, speed.

As the stern just starts to lift, lean forward and paddle fast, aim to catch the wave. When it passes under you and the froth is around the bow, let it be. No good trying to climb the back of a wave. Paddle steadily until the opportunity arises again, then lean forward, paddle hard and surf!

Des & I were happy with this evening. We did far more than we had expected. We challenged ourselves, as always we wish to do. We renewed our bonds to the open ocean, in a way that fitted us. This was the place where we chose to be. We entered it with respect. We returned fulfilled.
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Close to St. John's, you have two general choices for paddling. Conception Bay to the West of the city is more sheltered. To the East & South is the (confusingly named) Southern Shore. There are a variety of small bays there, some islands and ... if you venture out past the headlands the open Atlantic. The choice is very good, whether you are looking for a sheltered paddle or something more challenging. As well, the scenery in Conception Bay is pleasant, but bland, whereas along the Southern Shore it is truly impressive, with cliffs, sea stacks, etc.

I have not paddled in Labrador. However, in 1997, I went by helicopter to the northern tip of Labrador. Along the way, we flew over the Torngats and landed on the shores of Hebron Fjord. (On our return journey, fog forced us inland. We spent a night on the shores of Ungava Bay, then flew South following the George River.) The problem with the coast in the area of the Torngats is polar bears. This is a serious threat. Nigel Foster paddled from Ungava Bay to Nain a coiuple of years ago and was stalked by polar bears on several occassions. I think he is lucky to have made it. A kayak guide (I've forgotten his name) several years ago was taking a group along that coast. He killed a polar bear that was charging. Pretty much point blank range. I would not go into that area without a firearm, but they are illegal in the park. Except for the park wardens, who can be armed to the teeth. Any way, it is a spectacular area. I have thought about how to paddle it safely. The only way would be to have a boat accompany you and sleep on it. Expensive.

Newfoundland projects into the Northwest Atlantic. All coasts except the West (which faces the Gulf of St. Lawrence), are exposed to the open ocean. To the East is Ireland. To the North is Greenland. To the South is ... well South America. The weather and sea states can be severe. Then there is the fog! When you go beyond the headlands you are ocean paddling, in the same way you are off the West coast of Vancouver Island. To complicate things further, there are cliffs along long sections of coast, where there is nowhere to get ashore. It's a super place to paddle.

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