We started from Llandudno, surfing the bore to Chester and making our way down the canals to Stourport. Onto the Severn to wind our way down towards the sea. Onto the salty stuff at the last weir before a minor stranding on a sandbank at Sharpness. Overall all was going well and an adventure was being had. But of course it wasn't to last.
As we closed on Porthcawl the weather changed for the worse and after much soul-searching and sitting around we accepted that the work commitments / bad weather equation didn't resolve in our favour. We headed home.
However, for me it wasn't quite over. While Micky C and Uncle Geoffrey had rather important roles in the future of the nation, I hadn't. After a bit of brown-nosing and a chunk of leave I returned a week later to the Mumbles , to carry on where we had left off.
And on it went, with the usual UK exped paddling fare, windy and wet interspersed with some beautiful calm and glassy seas. To this day I remember the the Manx Shearwater circling me endlessly as I crossed the oily calm to from the Lleyn to Anglesey.
Eventually I made it back to Llandudno, to the accompaniment of the RAF SAR helicopter, before loading my boat onto a passing builder's van and heading back to work.
I didn't realise at the time, but somehow it all was to set the tone for future trips...
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