Laurin Lehner: Because you could hardly spend a week any more intensely. Six nights out and about – and seven days feel like four weeks. By the third day, you sometimes can’t even remember where you slept the night before. Why? Because your head is absolutely brimming with impressions.
It’s not necessarily the paddling itself. Those first strokes in the morning are lovely. The sun shines down on the coast, and you’re alone with your thoughts. After half an hour, I’ve usually had enough of that. Paddling is a means to an end.
“Paddling is merely a means to an end.”
Living in the here and now. Suddenly, only the really important questions matter: Where can we get water and provisions? Where can we have breakfast? And above all: Will we find a good place to sleep? Ideally with driftwood for a fire, level ground and no onlookers. It’s a bit like a game of chance – except that the top prize is a secluded pebble beach.
It’s possible. I wouldn’t automatically recommend it to a recreational paddler who’s only ever paddled on their local lake. The sea can lie as smooth as oil – warm, windless, inviting. And then, moments later, crosswinds, headwinds and waves can appear. Then the picture-postcard scene turns into rather treacherous terrain. Islands with long, steep coastlines are particularly tricky. You can’t simply go ashore there if something goes wrong. We’ve had a few situations where things got a bit dicey.
When your paddle drifts away. You put it down on the board for a moment, have a look at the map – and realise too late that it’s gone. In strong winds, it drifts away faster than you can keep up with it. In that case: Things are about to get messy. Or you find yourself paddling into the darkness against your will. Suddenly, you can no longer tell whether there’s a sharp reef off the beach or whether you can even land safely. I’ve been there before.
It absolutely must be within easy reach. Not buried deep in your rucksack when it’s already dark. Rummaging around for it on a wobbly board isn’t a good idea. However, even a powerful head torch won’t light up an entire beach from out on the open sea. You have to get closer – and that’s exactly where reefs and rocks might be lurking.
Planning. Check the map, keep an eye on the weather forecast, mark out safe landing spots. In short: the Royal Marines’ 7 Ps: “Propper Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance”. The wind is a paddler’s enemy. Winds of more than eight knots quickly become unpleasant on a SUP, especially when blowing from the side. If you’re paddling on one side for two or three hours, it gets gruelling. With a good weather window, the trip is a relaxing experience. Without one, it turns into survival training.
Because only inflatables are really practical on a plane. The board travels as a standard piece of luggage, within the 23-kilo limit. The bag also holds a tent, a sleeping bag, a sleeping mat and stuff sacks. Once we’re there, we inflate the boards and either hide the pump in the bag or leave it somewhere for safekeeping. After all, the most important rule for luggage is: the lighter, the better.
Most recently, we’ve had sporty 12’6” touring boards from Naish. Model: One. With luggage on board, they’re a bit wobbly for beginners, but they’re manoeuvrable and fast. Experienced paddlers will get on well with them. Great feature: they have a nice scoop – that is, a curved nose. This helps them cut through waves better and prevents them from being washed over. Beginners are better off with a wider board. We’ve also had 14-foot boards. They offer more space and a second luggage net, which helps distribute the weight more evenly. However, they’re also heavier and more difficult to manoeuvre.
No. I was out with a colleague who had climbed Pik Lenin, which is over 7,000 metres high. He cycles 180 kilometres a day and has legs like camshafts. Even so, he ran into trouble in the swell, started shaking and had to get down on his knees. Just because you can stand steady on a lake doesn’t mean you’ve mastered the sea. Endurance is no substitute for balance. And thick calves are no substitute for experience.
Two waterproof Ortlieb pack sacks – containing only the bare essentials. A front luggage net is a must, as is the leash. You don’t usually need them, but they provide peace of mind when riding downwind.
You learn something new on every trip. We’ve circumnavigated seven islands – or at least tried to. Each time, we realised what we’d been lugging around for nothing and what we’d sorely missed. Strictly speaking, a tent is a luxury. It takes up space and adds weight, and ideally you never put it up even once. But when rain, a storm or an army of mosquitoes turn up, it’s suddenly the best thing in the world.
Do this regularly, before your body gives out. Have a drink every half hour, eat half an energy bar every hour, take a break now and then, or jump into the water. If you start too fast, you’ll pay the price later. But of course we love stopping off at tavernas. It’s always a highlight after long hours on the water. But you shouldn’t rely on it. In Greece, many places are already closed by October. That’s why we take a small pot with us. We put it on the campfire. Warm porridge in the morning is worth its weight in gold. Not just for the stomach, but above all for morale. We’ve found freeze-dried food in sachets works well for us. From Travellunch, for example.
Surprisingly few. We had high hopes, but were mostly disappointed. My brother saw a shark, a swordfish and a whale – whilst crossing from Elba to Corsica, far out at sea. During our circumnavigations of the islands, we spotted a rare monk seal, a few flying fish, sea turtles and octopuses. My dream would be to see a dolphin. Or a whale. But the sea isn’t a wish list, and certainly not a zoo.
"The sea isn’t a request show, and it’s certainly not a zoo."
It should have a circumference of less than 100 kilometres – preferably significantly less. You can get a rough idea of this in advance using Google Earth. But you can’t just draw a line around the island. In reality, you’ll be heading into bays, looking for shops or places to stay – and racking up extra kilometres. A week is ideal, as many holiday flights operate on a weekly basis. However, the itinerary should allow for a margin in case of bad weather or days off. After all, we also want to go for a swim, read and lie on the beach. If you have to clock up kilometres every single day, you’ll quickly lose the joy of it.
Crete. We’ve failed twice on the west coast. There are long stretches of cliffs there with no place to land. On one occasion, we set off in an offshore wind and had serious difficulty getting back to shore at all. Dangerous – but impressive.
Malta has really stuck in my memory. The crossing between the main island and Gozo was long and tough, with a headwind coming from the side. But once you’ve made it through, the sense of achievement is all the sweeter. That said, I’d still recommend a smaller Greek island: easy to get to, short distances, plenty of places to stop. And don’t go too late in the year – at some point, the wind takes over.
During an attempt on Crete’s west coast, the wind shifted during the night. The board was wedged between the rocks; waves crashed in and rocked the board. Friction caused a tiny hole to form. In the morning, we found the board completely deflated. Fortunately, we still had the pump with us at the time. We had to pump it up several times and make unscheduled stops. You must never forget: these are inflatable boards. Whether double-layered or not – a small hole can bring the trip to an end. That’s why you should never go out on your own. And even with two people, things can get dicey.
I haven’t lost any, but I’ve had my heart in my mouth often enough. A rigid fin is a perfect weak point. In shallow water, all it takes is a rock or a reef – and the trip is over. Flexible plastic fins make more sense for trips like this – which is a point in favour of the Naish One. Nobody cares about a theoretical speed advantage from greater rigidity if the thing ends up broken on the seabed. Besides, a stiff fin isn’t really relevant at slow paddling speeds anyway.
No. It’s for experienced stand-up paddlers who can grit their teeth and improvise when faced with a headwind. There’s often no backup. You’re on your own. Ideally, you’d go with someone who’s already familiar with tours like this. The sea can look gentle one moment, but turn treacherous the next.
Nothing too extreme. My brother, which I usually use for paddling, likes crossings. From From Elba to Corsica, for example Or Gavdos to Crete – travelling non-stop for hours on end. That doesn’t appeal to me. I want a relaxing break with a touch of adventure. Ideally, another Greek island, perhaps one neighbouring Skopelos: Alonnisos. In other words: manageable distances, swimming, snorkelling, good food, and time to unwind. The perfect mix of sport, relaxation and just enough excitement to give you something to talk about afterwards.
Thank you very much, and best of luck for the future!