Chelsea Kayak Club

A day paddle in the relatively sheltered waters of Chichester harbour was an ideal way to test out a trip the club can offer to members looking to build their experience on the sea. It is also a trip which can be reached by train/bus with local kayak hire available. This opens it up when we don’t have enough cars with roofracks to transport all the boats a group needs from the Arches.

So, Fiona, Mike and I set off from sunny South London on Saturday morning and headed for West Itchenor. We went straight to Fluid Adventures’ base on the beach, where we got set up with our pre-booked kayaks. There was good parking close by and toilets at the Harbour Office where we could change.

Fluid Adventures’ set up on the beach at West Ichenor

Chichester Harbour turned out to be an excellent choice as there was a brisk Southwesterly wind (Force 4 gusting 5) which could have made conditions in the open sea tricky to deal with. We launched from the shingle beach and headed up the easterly arm of the estuary towards Fishbourne.

Our first challenge was to navigate our way through the many boats moored in the harbour. We continued up the channel seeking shelter from the wind at its edges, which also helped us avoid the many dinghies taking part in Saturday races and the ‘foilers’ enjoying the windy conditions. It felt really fun to be part of such a lively water sports community.

Once we got into the quieter part of the channel we caught sight of more wildlife including cormorants, white egrets and a buzzard. We also had a good nosy at the impressive houses coming down to the water’s edge, one with its own sculpture garden !

We stopped for a snack as the tide was turning, nosing our boats onto a grassy bank out of the wind. Heading back was a bit of a tougher paddle, but still really enjoyable. We had a little help from the tide but the wind was definitely stronger, so we had to put our heads down and brace into it for a few stretches. We crossed the channel at Longmore Point and as we headed back on the southern side of the channel to West Itchenor the wind was pushing us to the right and the current pushing us forwards, requiring careful positioning so as not to be pushed onto lines of moored boats.

We were welcomed back by the Fluid Adventures team after safely navigating all the boats and obstacles in the harbour. That left us time for lunch and an ice cream before heading home!

The recce was so successful that Fiona is planning another trip on 11th Oct. See our Sea Trips page for details.

An early morning start from Kew Bridge for our club trip to the Southbank, via Battersea Reach, and back.

As we were with the outgoing tide, we were pretty quickly down to Battersea Reach. After a short snack break we were off into central London. Traffic was surprisingly light early on the Sunday morning and for a lot of the trip we had the river to ourselves.

Pretty soon we were seeing familiar landmarks, such as the pagoda at Battersea Park and the Houses of Parliament. Big Ben told us it was 11:25am, which meant we had an hour to get to the lunch spot before the tide turned.

We were able to pass directly under the London Eye, much to the amazement of the occupants of the capsules.

We arrived at the beach at Southbank bang on schedule and with an hour for lunch, ordered takeaway pizzas from the gourmet pizza restaurant. We could eat them on the sandy beach, or overlooking the person making a gigantic sand sculpture. Afterwards there was just time for a quick photo opportunity with St Paul’s in the background before starting the return journey. With more traffic and the tide pushing us up river we had to be attentive in crossing and paddling back towards Battersea Reach. A quick stop near to the old Club base at Cremone gave us the opportunity to do some mud larking (a clay pipe, a 1960s specimen bottle and two Bakelite door knobs were found). A long day, both in time and distance (40km), but very enjoyable for a trip we don’t do often enough.

BRACKLESHAM TO SELSEY BILL, 19 JULY 2026

On Sunday 19 July a small group of four CKC-ers, led by Liza, headed to Bracklesham beach on the south coast, for a lovely paddle on the sea.  There’s a car park right by the beach, but on a beautiful sunny weekend day in the summer holidays, it fills up quickly and there were no spaces left at all by the time we arrived just after 10.00.  We unloaded the kayaks near “The Beach” café (with adjacent public toilets) and drivers Liza and Mary had to go find parking spaces in the streets nearby.

After a briefing from Liza, and with the tide coming in and a light north/north easterly breeze from behind, we carried the boats down the steep shingle bank and launched in light surf, heading out from the beach to catch the flow. We headed southeast, following the coastline towards Selsey Bill, making good progress.  The Windmill at Medberry soon came into view, and the cardinal markings off Selsey Bill became more clearly visible ahead.

As forewarned by Liza, we headed away from the shore and out towards the further cardinal markings as we got closer to Selsey Bill, to avoid the roughest area of water where it suddenly becomes pretty choppy as the current pushes it over the shallow bar.  It was indeed rather bouncy with short steep waves coming from various directions, and the bows of the kayaks plunging ahead. It required some extra concentration as we pushed through the turbulence, but it didn’t last long and we were soon in calmer waters again, albeit with the occasional gusts touching force 4.

We headed close to Pagham beach for lunch, below a row of beach houses, some pretty plush and a few adapted from old railway carriages that had been moved there during WWII to accommodate soldiers ahead of the D-Day landings. 

After lunch we were back in the kayaks for a short burst to Selsey to get an ice-cream. 

Having scoffed those, we were back in the kayaks and did a seal launch, sliding down the shingle in our boats into the water. With the flow still with us, although we found ourselves pushing against occasional gusts of wind.  We didn’t need to move out much to navigate Selsey Bill on the way back.  It was only mildly choppy and perfectly manageable.

Back in Bracklesham Bay Liza demonstrated a self-rescue, which Emmanuel then tried a couple of times, nail-bitingly close to fully executing it.  Fionna then tried and failed, and was rescued mostly ably by Emmanuel.

The fun passed all too quickly, and we headed in, with the 4pm high tide accommodatingly well up the shingle, making landing surprisingly easy.  A great day out, excellently planned and led by Liza, with a nice of mix of leisurely paddle, focused concentration around the Bill, and some rescue practice.

The Isle of Mull is a long way from London and a long way from anywhere. But it wasn’t always that way. Just across the water from the island’s western tip, where CKC pitched camp for a stormy week in May, lies Iona and its abbey, where, if Wikipedia is to be believed, 60 Scottish, Irish, and Norwegian kings lie buried. They and their followers would think nothing about nipping across the Irish Sea or voyaging down the coast past Cornwall to Brittany and beyond. We were beside the original nautical crossroads.

Our trips weren’t quite on the same scale. My day one saw six of us— Fiona, Jude, Gilly, Liza, David, and yours truly— circumnavigating Iona. It was a long day. Liza organised the trip to keep us clear of rock gardens made hazardous by a spring tide running full bore. She also scheduled not one but two lunch breaks on the Atlantic side of Iona so we could ride the flooding tide north.

The trip started on the beach at Fidden Farm, our campsite, from where we had a quick hop across the Sound of Iona to the island’s southern tip. There we found ourselves surrounded by white bubbles that stretched in every direction, making the sea resemble an infusion of bath salts.

Back on the mainland side of Iona, near the jetty where tour boats were disembarking passengers from the ship anchored offshore, lunch breaks were followed by an ice cream break. With the wind picking up, there was no time to visit the Abbey, the island’s main attraction. Instead, we headed back across the sound to our campsite, passing the Waverley, the world’s last surviving seagoing paddle steamer. Later, we learned it had just been used to ferry passengers back to Oban after the notoriously unreliable Caledonian MacBrayne ferry had broken down.

The next day on the water we had greater delights when Fiona bought a crab from a fisherman. She decided a spell in the campsite freezer was the humane way to despatch Claude (clawed— get it?). That was the easy part. She then had to persuade two American visitors there was nothing unusual to be seen in the freezer where they had left their food.

When Claude was judged sufficiently chilled, into the pot he went. Then it was over to Jude, who proved ruthlessly efficient at dismantling crabs. David and Liza had thoughtfully brought a large pop-up tent for use as a group shelter, and, wrapped in woolly hats, anoraks, and every last stitch of clothing, we all huddled beneath it and tucked into crabmeat.

The spectre at the feast was the weather. We had rain by the bucketful; gales meant the group tent had to be twice taken down; the temperature dropped overnight to just five degrees sending Jude and Fiona for emergency purchases of locally woven blankets; and we all became weather junkies, glued to our weather apps.

When the wind was too strong for kayaking, we put on hiking boots and headed for Burg, the massive headland across the sea loch. We didn’t even attempt the 1,400ft climb, but it was to be my toughest day. The plan was to follow the coast to a geological shrine: a 50-million-year-old fossilised tree, preserved in lava flows and first recorded over two centuries ago.

The start was deceptively gentle – a forestry track leading through an avenue of contorted beech trees. But track turned into path, path became a rocky scramble, then we were faced with a climb down a shiny steel ladder bolted to the rock face. After that everyone had to pick their own way for the final half-mile along the boulder-strewn shore. That was when Gilly and I decided it was time to sit back and enjoy the sights while the others pressed on.

I’m glad we did. The basalt rock formations, which had been caused by violent eruptions, had settled into strange and wonderful shapes leaving a giant wheel that might have been a druids’ altar; sharply cut columns fit to grace a palace; and more columns fanning out like hands in prayer. They weren’t the only spectacles – I was delighted to see a pair of ravens patrolling the cliffs (and envious of Fiona, who claimed an eagle).

The next day was to be our last on the water, and we had the odd experience of admiring the entirety of our walk from a distance. There was nothing to make it look difficult. But then the same could have been said of that day’s paddling. A sheltered coast with hardly any tidal flow meant we could relax and we had time to admire the huge sea caves made by the waves to boom like giant orchestral instruments.

But the caves were a bit too tempting, and David was inspecting one interior when a sudden surge reduced his headroom from yards to just a couple of feet. There was no harm done, but the case for wearing a helmet could hardly have been made more forcefully.

Sod’s Law kicked in when it was time to strike tents and pack up – the rain stopped and the sun came out. Back on the mainland, the further south I drove the more layers I had to strip off. Now I’m writing this from a hot and sticky cauldron.

Give me the wild, wet, and windswept north any day.

We haven’t been able to paddle to Beachy Head for the last 2 years as the weather and tides never worked for us. But this year we managed to get to see the lighthouse twice in 6 weeks!

Although the wind was a bit gusty while we were getting ready at Eastbourne, it was to get lighter throughout the day. Whereas on the previous trip we were dodging rain clouds, this time getting sunburnt was more of a concern.

Paddling passed the lighthouse we were able to surf some small waves, pushing us on towards Birling Gap. Birling Gap had suffered a landslide of part of the cliff around the steps leading to the beach. We had hoped that we would have the beach to ourselves, but the steps had re-opened 2 days previously letting the general public back onto the beach. Still, it was quieter than usual. For lunch we kept well away from the cliff, just in case there was another rockfall.

On the way we had seen one really big seal, but on the way back we saw a large group of 8. After paddling back to the launch point we continued onto have a look at the golden domes on the pier, before landing. An enjoyable day on the sea!