01.08.2005

Durch die Stille gleiten

Andalusiens Flüsse und Seen sind weltweit berühmt; viele der Wasserwege sind nur mit dem Kajak passierbar. Wir unternahmen einen ganz anderen Trip in der Nähe von Barbate und kehrten mit einer Unmenge Eindrücke zurück (Artikel in englisch).

Where I lived in Cornwall four years ago, there was this farmer who listened to Miles Davis and whose beautiful and large piece of land on the Helford river was a dream-like mix of rolling hills, meadows, woods, organic crops, and grazing fields. The farmer let anyone walk through to get to greet the cows, take in the sights, and get to the water. His sailboat was anchored by a clearing in the riverside woods that served as a natural grassy dock and on which he or his friends also kept a couple of rowboats. I asked him if I could keep my kayaks there or nearby so that I could put in at high tide to explore the river and paddle down to the ocean. He said, “others in the village will want to do likewise; if you keep them on the land I don’t want to know about it.” It wasn’t exactly a straight ‘no’ for an answer, so my girlfriend and I paddled to a nice docking space in the woods and did our best to hide the boats beneath leaves and twigs. But the farmer knew and surveyed his land well. When I next saw him he smiled and said he’d discovered the kayaks. He went on to muse that the kayak was the bicycle of the water and we started talking about farming. I suppose my boats didn’t bother him that much.

Only in a kayak can you actually navigate with a high degree of precision in as little as 20 cms of water. For the wildlife observer, this opens the possibility of approaching bank-dwelling animals quietly without being noticed.
An open-water kayak is an amazing way to explore the world. It’s fast, silent, and its natural route is off the beaten path. Roads and railways are often built in valleys, and so run parallel to watercourses, but generally not right along the water. Horse, cattle, and other domestic grazers may abound at the water’s edge, but most of the length of a typical small river is routinely accessed by man himself neither from the banks nor the water. In this unusual solitude at the trough of any valley or canyon, sounds and sights create a totally new perspective. Only in a kayak can you actually navigate with a high degree of precision in as little as 20 cms of water. For the wildlife observer, this opens the possibility of approaching bank-dwelling animals quietly without being noticed. You quickly learn the tricks. Glide silently close to the banks, keep your eyes open and you will be watching turtles up close long before they see you and dive in to safety. Glide at the center of the river to spot herons or ducks in the distance, then move to the best side and continue silently toward the animal under a cover of overhanging vegetation. Grab some ripe figs or blackberries along the way.

The term “kayak” originates from the traditional Inuit closed-top double-paddle canoe still in use today in the Arctic regions as a practical embarcation for hunting or traveling. If differs from the American or Oceanic Indians’ canoe mainly in that the top of the boat is closed: the paddler accesses the hull through a cockpit and sits legs forward onto the floor. There are usually foot rests on either side. A ‘skirt’ around the kayaker’s waist and fastened to the cockpit edges is sometimes used for warmth, dryness, and–if you find yourself upside down and beneath water–buoyancy. Nowadays kayaks and canoes are generally made of either plastic, whose main advantage is durability, or the lighter but more fragile and costly fiberglass. The main types of sporting kayaks are as follows:

1. ‘White-water’ (aka ‘downhill’) kayak. Used exclusively to come down flowing (as opposed to tidal) rivers and especially entertaining in rapids (‘white water’), this is one of the shortest kayak types. Measuring less than three meters, these boats are generally made of plastic as they must withstand frequent hits against rocks beneath the water. The paddle is used reactively to control the course of the boat, most of the pull being provided by the current. Unlike the open-water kayaks described below whose course and speed are controlled mainly by the paddler, steering a white-water kayak is a far more defensive and reactive experience.

2. ‘Open-water’ (aka ‘touring’) kayaks. Open water or touring kayaks are for lakes, the sea, and rivers without rapids. They are designed for aero- and aqua-dynamics, to navigate both down and up-stream, with or against currents. The narrower and longer the boat, the least effort it is to drive forward in a straight line, but what you gain in speed and tracking you lose in maneuverability. Hence the popularity of ‘hybrids’, shorter more maneuverable boats perfectly suitable for long distances, especially in calm waters. Generally speaking, sea kayaks are longer (up to six meters), narrower (easier to capsize) boats equipped with a feet-controlled rudder and suited to covering very large distances in the sea or large rivers. Being shorter (up to 5 meters) the hybrids are easier to turn around in narrow or obstructed waterways and to carry in and out of the water as necessary.

In both cases the more expensive models contain dry compartment in front and/or behind the cockpit which serve the dual purpose of making the boats unsinkable and providing dry storage for gear and food. The kayaks we used on this trip are the poorman’s hybrid type. No dry compartments, just a couple of sorry-looking polystyrene buoys inside: if you capsize and the boat somehow fills up with water, you probably sink. If you don’t use dry-bags, tobacco and sleeping bags get wet. Luckily enough these boats are stable enough that even beginners (and photographers with expensive equipment) are unlikely to capsize in calm waters.

3. “Play kajaks”: ‘sit-on-top’, ‘surf’ kayaks. Using the traditional kayak paddling and sitting techniques, these unsinkable, light, and short boats (up to 3.5 meters) are a cross between kayaks and surfboards. Some are designed specifically for surf, while others may feature two seats for short jaunts in and out of the water. Many sports fishermen have adopted sit-on-tops as the perfect vehicle for setting up the poles and kicking back with beer, book, sandwich, or smoke in hand.

Technically, kayaking is easy. The famous underwater roll and the emergency exit (exiting the cockpit whilst submerged underwater) are used mostly in white-water kayaking. The latter situation, however, should be practiced with a tutor in shallow calm water just in case. You should only get into a kayak if you are a good swimmer able to swim under water. Particularly in the sea, beware of shallow waters. Capsizing in one-meter or two-meter depth over an irregular floor is more problematic than in three meters of unobstructed water. Also beware of the sea’s current and waves. Shore waves, depending on their size and the weight of your kayak, can throw it against you forcefully. Don’t put in a heavy kayak when the waves are taller than 50 cms. Even then, it’s difficult and dangerous.

Beginners will probably have to use a number of ‘damage control’ strokes such as paddling backward to brake or to correct turning. Even advanced paddlers routinely use corrective strokes, albeit less dramatic. After a few times on the water, paddling is a subconscious affair and the boat goes where you want it to, most of the time.

Steering presents the greatest challenge to the beginner, and specific movements are either eased or hindered by the type of boat. Broadly, shorter boats are easier to turn and longer boats are easier to keep in a straight line. Accurate steering is via a combination of subtle (and not always obvious) stroke variations that are beyond the scope of this article but probably well documented on the Web. In the most general terms possible, paddle close to the boat and all along it to go forward, and behind you and away from the boat for turning toward the other side. Beginners will probably have to use a number of ‘damage control’ strokes such as paddling backward to brake or to correct turning. Even advanced paddlers routinely use corrective strokes, albeit less dramatic. Something to aim for is to only occasionally have to paddle twice on the same side, the most efficient propulsion being one stroke on each side. After a few times on the water, paddling is a subconscious affair and the boat goes where you want it to, most of the time. As to proper handling of the paddle, keep one fist always tight (right hand if you’re right-handed) and let the paddle pivot before tightening your other fist and stroking on that side (paddle blades are always set at a right angle from one another in order to prevent the blade that is up in the air and moving forward from catching the wind).

Flowing or tidal, rivers worldwide are all different, but they’re all the same: usually silty, occasionally smelly and mosquito-ridden, but always frequented by countless animal species and embellished by water-loving flora. Andalusia is home to the Guadalquivir, Spain’s largest river, and the Parque de Doñana at its mouth is often said to be Europe’s most important wildlife sanctuary, famous for flamingoes and lynx among other species.
But you don’t need to go to Doñana to experience the region’s endless variety of fauna and flora. If you’re really going to get away from the roads and noise, you can do so only by foot or in a kayak. Between Conil and Málaga, there are at least six rivers flowing into the sea that are navigable in kayak: Río Salado (Conil), Río Barbate (Barbate, Vejer), Río de la Jara (Tarifa), Río Palmones (Algeciras), Río Guadarranque (Algeciras), Río Guadiaro (San Roque), and Río Guadalhorce (Málaga).
In addition, the man-made inland reservoirs these rivers flow from or through are wonderful places to kayak, and there are plenty of inland rivers that are navigable throughout the year. You can also kayak on the sea with the right equipment and weather conditions. Of the aforementioned coastal rivers close to Tarifa, hundreds of kilometers are navigable throughout the year but winter rain opens up the water paths much further into the interior, so that week-long trips are possible.

Possibly the best time to kayak is early spring, with the water level still high and Andalusia’s tropical and early-blossoming flora at its most spectacular. For this article the photographer and writer took a two-day trip on the nearby Río Barbate (mouth on the coast at town of Barbate, just before Caños de Meca). We were nervous about the ¤3,000 of camera equipment we took along, and without water housing, we weren’t able to take all the wildlife shots we would have wanted to. Wildlife photography is difficult in any case, but sitting in a kayak even more so. You have to set aside the paddle and hope that the natural movement of your boat isn’t excessive. This problem is worsened if you’re using a telephoto objective. With other lenses you have to be successful in approaching the animals and preparing your shot before they flee. I won’t get into the system Hervé used to keep the camera dry and change lenses as needed. We had to cover distance so we needed to take pictures onboard but it’s probably more relaxing to shoot from the shore or-, in the absence of dry housing and a body for each lens, to use a cheaper and smaller point-and-shoot camera despite its limitations. Another tried and tested option is not to take pictures at all…

The RíoBarbate is the heart of the hydrological system including, from north to south, the Embalse (reservoir) de Barbate and Embalse del Celemin, the Marismas (wetlands) de la Janda, and the Marismas de Barbate. Most of La Janda wetlands have disappeared over the years and there is a conservation effort underway to recreate them, but the Barbate marshes downriver, once integrated with La Janda, remain an important resting area for migrating birds to and from the wetlands of Doñana and bay of Cádiz.
The area is protected and features plenty of walking, cycling, and trekking routes. It is integrated with the Parque Nacional de la Breña, the spectacular cliffs that separate Barbate from Caños de Meca on top of which is a beautiful forest of maritime pine growing in sandy soil. You drive through this area if you drive directly from Caños to Barbate.
On a historical note, tuna fishing was already practiced by Phoenicians and Romans, whose port Baesipo was located on the mouth of the Barbate, the site of which has been inhabited as a town ever since. Some historians are convinced that the very first battle pitting the invading Moors against the Visigoths took place on the banks of the Barbate in 711AD. King Rodrigo was killed in this battle and, setting a precedent for decades of northward conquest to come, the Moors were soundly victorious.

The battle is referred to as the Battalla del Lago (Battle of the Lake), hence the supposition that its setting was no other than La Janda, very probably at that time an enormous lake bordered by marshlands. There is no doubt, however, that Caños de Meca was the site of the battle of Trafalgar some 1094 years later. when the alliance between the Napoleonic fleet and the Spanish Armada suffered a crushing defeat after a long and brutal clash with the vessels of British admiral Nelson, who also lost his life in the process despite his victory. In Barbate, there was relative stability during Moorish rule but after the local Christian ‘reconquest’ in the 13th century, the town was to suffer constant Berber pirate attacks and survived only as a dependency of the better-protected Vejer de la Frontera.

About four hours and 15 kms after our departure we reached Vejer and decided to set up camp where small sloping cascades separate the tidal from the permanently flowing stretch of the river. We settled on a lush little island between two small cascading arms and saw the tide fall and rise below us while the water level above remained the same.

We started at high tide from the Barbate polígono industrial (the industrial quarter, in this case with important activities being ship repair and fishing), and paddled along decrepit boats and a few inhabited tin shacks erected in a eucalyptus riverside woods, then under the bridge and upstream into the meanders. The leaving tide didn’t slow us down too much and we were able to swim, take breaks, and generally appreciate the changing vegetation as the salt content of the water decreased. Plants close to the mouth are inundated at high tide and can put up with a high salt content. It’s mostly tough marine grasses and reeds similar to that found on beaches. Further inland as the river begins to narrow, you start seeing rushes that obstruct the water path in some areas. Finally, tall trees and bushes start to appear, including fig trees, oaks, acebuche, and many others. At this stage the river is never more than about five meters wide on average.

About four hours and 15 kms after our departure we reached Vejer and decided to set up camp where small sloping cascades separate the tidal from the flowing stretch of the river. We settled on a lush little island between two small cascading arms and saw the tide fall and rise below us while the water level above remained the same.

Paddling up or down the river we experienced, as one invariably does, the classic kayaker’s encounter with the large and solitary heron. The common local species is the purple heron. Most of the time the bird hears or sees you before you see it. You first notice it as it flies off from the trees to another resting point up or down the river. Knowing that the heron is present, if you paddle quietly onward, you are likely to successfully sneak up on it the next time around, and catch a few glimpses-–or shots–at closer range. Once again, the bird will fly away from you, but you can count on seeing the same specimen later. If you’re lucky this can go on for some time (including hours), with the bird less afraid and slower to fly away each time it becomes aware of your presence. The game usually ends when the heron decides to fly back to his original perch in a semi-circle often large enough to leave you unaware that you have been circumvented. It’s ok: there are always more specimens to be seen.

The heron is the kayaker’s friend: the most common subspecies in local rivers is the purple heron, or garza real

Another sure thing is the jumping fish. Ostensibly, they jump to get out of the way, but their ignorance of what’s in the air is made obvious as they slam into your torso or, as happened to me on this and other trips, land right into the cockpit between your legs. It’s the easiest fishing you’ll ever do. On Tarifa’s Río Jara a sizeable one, about 20 inches, caught itself in this manner. Not knowing nor trusting river fish too much and definitely not in the presence of the familiar trout or salmon, I put it back in the water with some regret, thinking it might well have been succulent. The one that fished itself on this trip, whatever it was, only measured about three inches. Back into the water with that one two, with less regret. The fish jumped over us and hit us so many times that, no doubt considering the prospect of seeing a drenched and slimy one come to rest on his Nikon, our photographer ended up cursing them.

Apart from a handful of herons, on this trip we saw turtles, frogs, dragonflies, bees, crabs, cows, horses, ducks, robins, swallows, bats, sheep, egrets, avocets, crows, swallows, kingfishers, osprey, at least two varieties of duck, and a number of other birds including storks. Actually storks can be seen flying in huge flocks over Tarifa itself these days. Speaking of flocks, you are likely to see Egrets by the hundreds nesting in the trees in the narrow canyon through which the river passes at the foot of the rock Vejer is built on (the N340 passes right at that point and this is where, coming from Tarifa, you can turn left to drive over the river onto a stone brige to go either to Barbate or up to Vejer). “In this area we also saw another impressive flock, this time of black starlings that nested on the face of the Vejer cliff (see photo). As to the lone white wading bird we captured above, send you identification of the species to us, (c/o Liquid Magazine).I wanted to get to the local bird observatory (on the road to La Peña) before finishing this piece, but then the piece might have turned into a birding guide. That is more than enough words for now anyway. Hervés images speak for themselves anyway, and we have all got some serious kayaking to do. See you on the water.”