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Here's a
selection of "war stories" from the guys who were a little further back in the
field of the 2007 Molokai World Challenge. Andy Orr (Hong Kong) came 46th overall;
Dave Jensen (US) came 25th; Alan Carlsson (Canada) came 28th and
Heather Nelson (USA) came 48th overall and was 3rd woman
home after some slight admin involving a reef near the finish.
We've also
got a comment and photos from Dave Marchant who did the race in 1980... Thanks to all of them for their
contributions.
Andy Orr
 Andy training off Hong Kong.
A group of
4 of us - Rob, Rene, JD and myself - came to Hawaii
from Hong Kong to do the race. The other 3
guys had done it last year in "epic" conditions, so we spent 4 months before
this year's event chasing every bit of wind swell we could find in the South
China Sea in an effort to prepare for what we were likely to encounter in Molokai. Hindsight is indeed 20/20.
Training
We arrived
9 days before race day and spent the week training and hanging around with
Oscar and a few of the SA guys, as well as such luminaries as Joe Glickman and
a shady little Belgian dude named Kurt Dierckx. We had fun and soaked up the
unique atmosphere that surrounds this race. We trained in mild downwind
conditions and then hit the beach bar at the Outrigger Club and/or LuLu's for
re-fueling and BS sessions. The only downside was receiving the regular weather
predictions which didn't look promising. However, as the locals kept telling
us, things can change suddenly in the channel, so we never really turned our
minds to any worst case scenarios. Waikiki as
a place to visit is a bit of a mixed bag, but the paddling in the surrounding
waters is out of this world. The water is turquoise blue and warm and the trade
winds keep the terrain consistently interesting. Or so the theory goes....
Beautiful and depressing
The flight
over to Molokai in the 8-seater was beautiful
and depressing at the same time. Last year, apparently, the sea was a mass of
angry white caps. This year it looked distinctly glass-like. Not a great sign,
but being glass half-full sort of guys we were still convinced (based on the
latest weather read outs) that we would get a light following wind on race day.
When we got up the next morning there wasn't a breath of wind and we just
looked at each other with a mixture of mild depression, resignation and
"anti-climax". I sensed a similar feeling in many of the other competitors.
The race
started in flat, calm conditions with the only immediate issue being the
blazing sun and heat which would certainly become a factor for many later on.
The escort boats (120 or so of them!) were held back for 20 minutes after the
start but when they arrived en masse the sea - particularly for those behind
the leading groups - suddenly became quite confused. After about 10kms I
decided to go to the far left hand side of the course to see what it was like
out there. The field was becoming more spread out at that point and I kept up a
steady pace, feeling pretty comfortable, for the next 20km, to about the half
way point.
The current hit and the headwind strengthened
As we
approached Oahu - at about the 35km point -
the current hit and the headwind strengthened. My average speed started
dropping markedly and Diamond Head suddenly
looked a lifetime away. I was still way out on the far left hand side of the
course and I saw most of the paddlers taking a more northerly route into shore
towards Koko Head.
Not sure
what I was thinking or why I was thinking it, but I decided to stay left and in
the deep water. The worst part of that horrible decision was the psychological
effect it had on me. There were only a small handful of us who stayed wide left
and deep and, being quite isolated, I was left with the feeling that everyone
else had escaped the current and was happily paddling in nice still water near
the shoreline. That thought really laid me low and I actually flipped my ski
and sat in the water for a couple of minutes swearing like a trooper and
generally throwing my rattle out of the pram.
"...toughest conditions ever"
It was
really hard to continue with that mindset but I managed to put my demons aside
and push on. The mental was soon followed by the physical and, with less than
15km to go I started to slide down the slippery slope of bodily decline. My
average speed into the current was no more than 6-7km/hr and I can honestly say
that the last 2 hours were the worst I have ever felt in an athletic context,
mentally and physically. I was well prepared for Molokai,
but - like many others - I wasn't prepared for a 6-7 hour slog in those brutal
conditions.
The
veterans and locals said it was the toughest conditions ever experienced. This
was my first Molokai, so I can't really
comment on that. I want to come back again as I feel sort of "cheated" by the
conditions this year. I want to experience the real Molokai.
The physical and mental abuse aside, it was a fun week in a magic place with
some excellent people.
Dave Jensen
 Dave Jensen
The first
part of the race seemed to go by quickly.
I resisted the urge to blast off real fast, and instead did my best to
stay relaxed and efficient. I was in a
group and was able to pace off another ski as I rode it's wake in calm
water. After about 30 minutes, the
escort boats came by throwing waves in all directions. I did my best to put in repeated surges to
get some push from these waves and they all bounced against each other.
Feeling good
But my
Garmin 305 was telling me that my heart race was going up without much gain in
speed. After a while, things started to
spread out and the escort boat wakes became less chaotic and it became easier
to some short rides. If nothing else,
these waves kept my mind occupied with something other than thoughts of a long
lonely paddle across the ocean in windless, sunny, and hot conditions. I was still feeling good and was slowing
picking off some of the skis ahead of me.
I was ahead of all of the OC1s and my escort boat driver was telling me
that I was in the top 15 for surfskis.
Another
hour into the race and things were spread out enough that the boat wakes were
gone. If I looked up, I could start to
make out the hillside at Makapu'u...the easternmost edge of Oahu. I thought to myself that the next 90 minutes
would be the mentally toughest of the race.
Nobody was withing 100 yards of me, and the nearest land was 10+ miles
away. I told myself that all I had to do
was make it to the shores of Oahu. There the condition might improve. Or if nothing else, I'd have changing scenery
to keep my mind occupied. Plus with the
finish line nearly in sight, I'd have renewed positive energy. I usually gain ground on other paddlers near
the end of long races.
Started to lose ground
But as I
neared Oahu, instead of continually gaining
ground on those around me (all to my north at this time), and started to lose
ground to them. I lost my appetite for
my sports drink. I knew I had to keep
drinking, so I made myself drink small sips from my drink tube. As I past to the south of Koko Head, I was in
real trouble. My speed had dropped to
around five miles per hour. My tank was
empty, and I just couldn't go any faster.
I couldn't figure out why I wasn't getting passed by paddler after
paddler. My thoughts that the finish
line was only 90 minutes away didn't do much to lift my spirits.
Then my
speed dropped to 4 mph and the floodgates opened with paddler after paddler
passing me. My body was shutting
down. I paddled through a short spell of
the dry heaves. Then about a minute
later I puked up all of the sports drink I had consumed in the previous hour or
two. As I did this I heard my boat
driver Dean yelling to his helper Lance to jump in and save me. (They told me later that my face had turned
white.) Before Lance could get into the
water, I had my feet back in my regurgitated Gatorade filled footwells and was
paddling away.
I continued
along at roughly a 4.5 mph pace and eventually made my way around Diamond Head. I
took it plenty wide to avoid the large waves that were breaking quite a ways
off shore. As I headed into the shore
break at the finish, I let two big swells go by and then hopped on the third
one. I laid back on my surfski as I rode
the wave for 100 yards and all the way in.
I was glad the race was over.
Alan Carlsson
 Alan (the Great White Shark) Carlsson!
It is now
three days after my first Moloka'i. What
can I say about Sunday's race but somebody annoyed the local gods! No one could
remember if there was ever a tougher race across the channel.
- It was
amazing!
- It was
intimidating- so many big names and legends.
- It was
intense- so many big names and legends who wanted to win!
- It was
sunny- no clouds.
- It was hot,
damn hot (over 90F)
It started
out calm- almost as calm as a Deep Cove summer night. Yeah right!
Even the start required making off the beach and through a 3-5 foot
shore break!
It started
out with refreshing and slight (<5km/hr) headwinds.
It began to
get rough after 5 km when the 130+ escort boats caught up with the field (after a 20 minute hold at the start) ready to cheer on and service their paddler.
It got even
rougher after 20 km (i.e. 43.5 km to go based on my route) when the winds
strengthened and the main ground swells appeared directly on your left beam,
running swells perpendicular to those on your right stern, all with that slight
headwind...
It got
rougher, and tougher, as the day wore on as the headwinds strengthened on your
left and front.
After hour
3, escort boat after escort boat zipped by with boats on the roof.
Longest and
slowest race since '78!
To really
put this in perspective, for the last 10 km (or 20 km?) I was grinding along at
6 km/hr catching the occasional run to 10-12 km/hr on the backside of waves
going the other way! You had to work so
hard for a single ride, you had nothing left after the first few rides, which
were barely faster than your cruising pace!
And I was passing people.
At the end
of the day, over 40 paddlers dropped out or were removed from the course for
their own safety. There were 136
official entrants and of those 126 opted to start. Last I heard only 96
finished.
After the
race, I was done. Never again. No more. I left way to much of myself out
there.
But learned
a few valuable lessons while there Moloka'i and I wouldn't want to waste that,
so I'll think about 08...
Alan has
written a lot more and has an analysis on his blog site at: http://surfskibc.blogspot.com/
Heather Nelson
Heather's
an ultra-marathon paddler from Bellingham,
USA. As such, the race distance and the conditions didn't
bother her at all.
 Heather Nelson (ultramarathonpaddling.blogspot.com)
I spoke to
her husband (and second) Brandon
just after the race. He said that
Heather paced herself well and had a great race against Megan Quale and Maggie
Twigg-Smith.
"Ten miles
or so into the race," he said, "Heather reeled in Megan. She held the lead for fifteen miles or so
until Megan found some energy and overtook her again."
She was
aware of Maggie Twigg-Smith coming up behind her but put her head down and
never let her get ahead.
Unfortunately,
she misjudged the route to the beach around the last buoy and found herself stranded
on a shallow reef. She bent her rudder
and rival Twigg-Smith came past while she was being dumped by successive waves.
"But she
felt brilliant," said Brandon.
"I can't see how I can stay out of it
next year!"
Brandon and
Heather have written several great stories about their experiences in Molokai
(including a downwind paddling clinic with Oscar - "It was a highlight of the
trip - that dude is larger than life all round," said Brandon.)
Their blog
is at http://ultramarathonpaddling.blogspot.com/
And a blast from the past - from David Marchant... who paddled Molokai
in 1980.
Great coverage of this year's race and it brought back
some old memories (or should we say nightmares). Can't find the story
that caused me to go looking for these pictures but it had to do with OC-1's
not arriving on the scene until the 90's. Well attached are 2 pictures of
Bill Bright the first year both of us paddled the race (I myself took the more
conventional if heavy 50lb Hayden). Bill and Dale Hope were paddling the
two outriggers made by Joe Quigg (no wonder they look a little like a surfboard
. . .) in the race that year
 Bill Bright, Molokai 1980 (Photo: David Marchant)
I don't care if we finished at Hawaii Kai and started off
Laau Point - considering the boats being paddled it was an epic journey.
All I remember was water so smooth that I completely missed a stroke and went
for an extremely nice swim. It was also the year that about an hour into
the race the head official boat came over to tell me I did not have an escort
and had to turn back. I politely told them that I lived on Oahu and would just keep heading that way; I just stuck
with Dale so that his escort could re-fill my water bottle.
 Bill Bright, Molokai 1980 (Photo: David Marchant)
So yes, flat races are a drag! However, the following
year my escort was screaming down waves behind me, going under water after
dropping of my water bottles, and I can't remember a better day so those that
suffered through this year might find next years race the exact
opposite. And the race can be done without an escort;
especially with the technology we have today and a few qualifying races to sort
out the folks who should try the channel after getting a little more
experience! OC-1's, well they have also been around longer that people
think - just took a few years (decades!) to perfect them!
The race website is at http://www.molokaiworldchampionships.com/
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