Over the years we have been paddling, we have been lucky enough to experience such places as the French and Austrian Alps along with the beauty of the British Isles, especially Snowdonia. All expeditions have followed previously paddled rivers, detailed and documented by other paddlers before us. In the world we live in now, the concept of first descents are far fetched and come few and far between. This trip to Moffat, a little town in Scottish Borders northeast of Dumfries, was something different, more of the pioneering ilk that we have read about and thought about for some time.

The Birnock Water finds its source in the hills above Moffat, starting out as a collection of drainages, which meet and create a relatively unknown stretch of steep whitewater that runs down into and through Moffat before joining larger bodies of water and continuing on towards the sea. Very little has been said about the Birnock Water and in honesty, the small dribble that runs through the town does not hold too much promise of excitement upstream. Particularly the managed section that runs past Will’s house.

A quick investigation, fuelled by curiosity more than anything else, revealed a section of river that held the potential not only of a good run, but also a first descent.

Near its source, the Birnock Water remains narrow, however years of erosion have resulted in the formation of a gorge-like stretch, riddled with interesting drops, the largest of which stands at around 12ft. Parking the van next to the ancient Moffat well, we hiked a couple of miles into the hills, handrailing the river as best as we could with our boats on our shoulders, until we came to an accessible point that allowed us to climb down to the river side.

A quick scout closer to the river confirmed what a previous scout had suggested, that the river was indeed runnable, with no significant blockages of rocks that would endanger any running of the waterfalls. Leapfrogging each other and taking it in turns to provide safety cover, we worked our way down the river, covering half a mile in four hours. The sides of the river were over grown and thick with vegetation, which slowed us down. We were also in no rush to leave. Isolated in the hills of Dumfries, we felt completely cut off, able to focus on nothing but the joy of running the (until this moment) unknown descent ahead of us.

With the main body of the river done, we found ourselves cruising through a more gentle section , giving ourselves  a moment to reflect on the incredible water we had covered so far. A small drop then introduced another exciting section, initiated further by a small slide and followed by a stretch of grade four rapids.

The successive Moffat Well Falls section was fast approaching. This is made up of another series of three drops, all with tight lines to make without much margin for error. We ran these drops with care after a quick scout from the side. The landing pit was not very large, however enough to stick your boat in comfortably after the short fall, with sufficient space to prep yourself for the next drop. The river calmed down after another couple hundred metres of tasty whitewater and we drifted back into the town and climbed out when we reached the house.

Due to a general lack of water around the Moffat area, and indeed the rest of the Dumfries and Galloway region, we decided that we should venture further north, into the Scottish Highlands. The Etive is a classic river in Scotland and one that all serious British paddlers have to run as it is one of their hometown specials. However, the precipitous Birnock Water had made up hungry for some more waterfalls, so we decided to stop of at the Falls of Falloch en route. The main feature of this river is a straight-lipped 32ft drop with a vast, deep pool and very little consequence at the bottom if you land it right. The only (slight) risk with this drop is that of landing too flat and breaking your back.

Following careful consideration, a good old scout (including a climb down to the lip of the waterfall and a crane of the old neck over the edge of the world), we were ready to fire it up, sort of.

I for one was not quite ready to sit in a boat over this drop; it was too high for me, with the aeration not quite to my liking. Furthermore, I had recently lost a bet, the forfeit of which was to send? a waterfall on a rubber duck. We had a waterfall, we had a duck, and I decided to take my chance.

The thought process as I walked up, with my trusty yellow duck under my arm, was mixed. I could feel the adrenaline moving through me body, and yet when I climbed down into the entry rapid from the surrounding elevated bit of rock, everything went calm. With the duck between my legs, I let the river push me over, it all happened very slowly. As I looked over the edge, I noticed that the duck has slipped in front of me and I was looking at the plunge pool headfirst. Over a period of time that felt too long, I tucked up and rolled over, turning my entire frame around, to land feet first. With my run done, it was time for Will to face the falls.

As a spectator, it happened much more quickly. My main concern this time was not my health, but rather if I could hold the camera still and catch him all the way down. As he came to the lip, I was expecting a clean run, what I wasn’t expecting was an arrow straight fall with a near perfect entry into the water. With almost no splash, I think we were both really impressed with his attempt. Whilst I can’t really express how he felt, I do know that it was the opposite of my gimmicky duck run. It was slick, smooth and looked like something out of a professional production. We watched both runs back repeatedly until the charge on my laptop got low and we drove out of the car park and onto the Etive.

We woke up the next day in a valley that we hadn’t really comprehended. The drive had lasted until the evening, by which point the sun had well and truly disappeared, leaving only the illuminated road directly in front of the van visible. We had aimed to wake up next to the waterfall, the last bit of the famous run, Right Angle.  And incredibly, we had nailed it.

That morning, the backdrop of the immense succession of mountains around us, alongside the 20ft waterfall just metres away from the van, provided a great location to enjoy breakfast.

Eagerly, we kitted up and made our way up the road to the put in of the river. Splashing our faces with water, we slid in and entered Triple Step, a quick sequence of three drop like features. The force of the water didn’t really allow for much time to prepare between the landing of the first drop and the entry to the second.

It was also around this time that I remembered I really should buy a neoprene skullcap. I don’t think I’ve ever been in colder water before; and as a result I had a searing headache for the majority of the run after the dousing I received after Triple Step.

Nevertheless, the rest of the river threw up plenty of surprises, it was twisty, turny and a whole lot of fun.

The river soon became gorge like, with towers of rock either side, hiding you from the eyes of those on the road looking down. Drops of around 8ft in height were scattered down the long profile of the river and were quite exciting to run. Eventually we came to the bottom of the river and were faced with Right Angle.

After a prolonged scout, we had identified the main hazards and highlighted any concerns we had. The main issue was the entry rapid, it is a very narrow s-bending section of violent whitewater, with a rooster tail in the middle that threatens to throw you off balance, which obviously is not what you want directly above a waterfall. The pool at the end of this rapid and that that led into the drop was extremely small. Once nailing the placing of your boat in here, it didn’t take much to push your boat off the edge of the lip. The two of us went for the same tactic, which was to plunge the boat in like a pencil jump, nose first.

Due to the height of the drop, one could have argued that a flat landing, allowing acceleration out of the plunge pool, would have been a good idea. Maybe with a little more water, aerating the water below and also decreasing the height of the waterfall, we would have done. However, we both decided to pencil it instead, eliminating any risk of hurting ourselves upon impact with the water.

The impact with the river below was a little harder than we expected, however, we didn’t get pushed against the wall and we both got out safe, finishing our mini-expedition unscathed and hungry for the next one.

James Nicholson – Jack Bloor Fund Report

I am very grateful to the Jack Bloor Fund for supporting my RYA Senior Instructor course which took place at Rockley Point Watersports, Poole in April 2017.
Growing up by the sea in Devon, I volunteered as an Assistant Instructor at my local sailing club from the age of 14 and completed my RYA Dinghy Instructor certificate two years later. I have since moved to study in Leeds and joined the University Sailing Club, where I began instructing on inland waters, before taking on the role of Training Coordinator for the 2017-18 period.

The RYA Senior Instructor (SI) qualification allows individuals to supervise the delivery of courses within National Sailing Scheme and permits them to operate as the Chief Instructor at a Registered RYA Training Centre. The course is an intense 4 days, bringing together candidates from a range of sailing backgrounds and includes lots of theory despite being incredibly practical!

As part of the SI qualification, I also had to pass the RYA Safety Boat course, update my First Aid course and complete the RYA’s online safeguarding course.
I was fairly nervous before travelling to Poole for the course in April. Having been busy with university studies right up until the week before, I had just about managed to complete the infamous 60 page ‘SI Workbook’. This workbook includes sections such as the ‘Catastrophe Clinic’, planning course delivery and writing Standard Operating Procedures all of which are topics explored during the course, which was run by 4 RYA Coach-Assessors.
We were lucky to have a week of bright sunshine and light winds which made things a bit less stressful as the conditions were perfect for teaching. On a couple of days the wind was particularly light (but 18 grown adults performing a ‘wind dance’ on the beach seemed to please the weather gods enough for a suitable sea breeze to fill in).

During the week we alternated between the roles of ‘students’, ‘instructors’ and the ‘Senior Instructor’ (aka big cheese) while running sessions on the water. All the candidates on the course were experienced instructors so the coaches’ expectations of personal sailing ability and instructing skills were high.
The focus was on developing skills in briefing, debriefing and ‘adding value’ to sessions in the role of Senior Instructor. After each session, instructors would debrief students, the ‘Senior Instructor’ would then debrief the instructors and finally the coaches would debrief the ‘Senior Instructor’! Lots of feedback through the course and continual assessment led to plenty of development points – but thankfully with a bit less pressure than I had anticipated.
I was tasked with running several sessions focused on racing starts, roll tacks, mark rounding, rudderless and centreboardless sailing. A highlight of the week was when I was placed in the role of a Dinghy Instructor taking a student on a ‘1:1 spinnaker masterclass’ At high tide, my ‘student’ (who happened to be an experienced catamaran racer) had no problem blasting across a mile long expanse of Poole Harbour. Despite being the world’s second largest natural harbour, it has an average depth of 70cm at low tide. While our wide grins were probably visible from Southampton, our antics made things a little stressful for the ‘SI’ of the day who was frantically trying to keep all 15 dinghies in a tight sailing area under the eagle eyes of the assessor!
Alongside the waterbased aspect of the course, there were theory sessions covering a wide range of topics including educational theory, dealing with underwater entrapments, bad weather alternatives, the structure of the RYA, ‘better’ standard operating procedures, risk assessments, RYA Inspections and running a Training Centre. We also planned the delivery of an Assistant Instructor course (rather nostalgic as this was where my instructing career started on a cold January weekend in Exmouth 6 years ago).

Throughout the course, we had spontaneous ‘Fun Quizzes’ (read ‘tests’) where the Coaches assessed our knowledge of a broad range of (sometimes obscure) sailing topics, including pilotage, meteorology, racing flags, the RYA and aerodynamics. For example, “name five animals found on a boat”: leech (the back of the sail), gooseneck (where the mast joins the boom) and ram’s horn (a ring on a yacht for making the sail smaller in bad weather) and I’ll leave you to try to think of two more…

Many of the other candidates on the course had commercial instructing backgrounds and I thought beforehand that my volunteering background might make things harder – however it proved very useful as my broader sailing background from racing dinghies, yachts and keelboats, as well as experience leading groups walking, climbing and orienteering really helped with these ‘Fun Quizzes’.
At the end of the week, everyone had one to one debriefs with the coaching team to find out whether they had passed or instead been action-planned for further training. With a 50/50 pass rate, this was one of the tougher courses I’ve done, but it was great to find I had passed subject to completing my Safety Boat course back in Exmouth the following weekend.

After two further days powerboating around the River Exe, righting inverted dinghies, towing kayaks and rescuing tangled kitesurfers, I had ticked the final box. The RYA Safety Boat course is probably some of the best fun you can have on the water in a weekend – highly recommended as a next step from the prerequisite Powerboat Level 2 certificate for anyone who spends time between the wheel on the water.
With my new qualification, I have got exciting plans to run more courses with Leeds University Sailing Club for beginner right through to advanced levels. The club has had a very successful year on the Team Racing side of things, travelling to the BUSA Finals at West Kirby SC while I was in Poole. We are hoping to develop the club’s training side to attract new members to the sport by running more courses in the next year at West Riding Sailing Club near Wakefield.
Once again, I would like to pass my thanks to the Jack Bloor Trustees and everyone who has supported the Fund for helping me to complete this course and take my next step on the instructing ladder.

I competed at the Jack Bloor Fell Races this year (my first experience of a ‘proper’ Yorkshire Fell Race) and thoroughly enjoyed it, despite several head-over-heels tumbles into, luckily rather soft, wet grass! I am also informed that I was the runner who purchased the most cakes following the race (6, I think…) so hopefully that will help support the Fund for others in future years!

IronTour Race report – Sarah Hodgson

Five days after my first triathlon in three years, I quietly wondered if I was going mad. Armed with an Italian phrasebook and a cumbersome bike box, I travelled to Elba, a small island off the coast of Tuscany, known only as Napoleons’ place of exile. The place boasts miles of untouched coastline – primarily because it’s a right pain to get to. A plane, a ferry, and a short drive later I was building my bike in the middle of the night, ready for the start of IronTour 2017 – a five day triathlon event.

Day One

The first day was an Olympic (ish) distance triathlon – 1500m sea swim, a hilly 46km bike, followed by an off road 10k hill run. Trying to understand what was going on in the Italian race briefing proved difficult enough, but I was even more confused when I exited the water fastest of all the women – and men. These draft legal races weren’t going to favour me when the bike bunch was over a minute behind! Having the company of the lead scooter was an experience in itself, but the technical descents on the bike proved challenging and two women flew past me on the last lap of the bike. The run was really tough, I had completely misjudged the temperatures and seriously regretted the lack of fluids on the bike. I was absolutely chuffed to run across the finish line in 3^rd, and even happier that the remaining four days were ‘just’ a sprint distance (750m swim, 20k bike, 5k run).

Day Two

Finally rehydrated and refuelled after yesterday morning (thanks to the pizza and pasta diet – when in Rome…) it was an early start to the other side of the island for a race with a complicated logistical twist. A hill climb for the bike leg meant that transition was split, with the swim being held in a bay, and my run shoes 20k up the road. At least there wouldn’t be any problems with descents today! I once again lead out the swim, and started slogging away up the relentless incline, with the eventual stage winner passing me at 8k in and leaving me for dust. I was passed again just before the end of the bike, and was unable to chase the leaders down before the end of the run on a step filled tour of the Old Town. Another bronze to add to the collection.

Day 3

Getting a reputation for being the ‘Queen of the Water’ I once again delighted the crowds in exiting the water first in a flat fast race around the centre of the island. Multiple loops on the bike with a dead turn at each end made it exciting for both spectators and competitors who could see the race unfold. The overall leader passed me just under half way into the bike, but I managed to hold off third for the rest of the leg. Buoyed with confidence from a good run the day before I couldn’t believe it when I ran nearly a minute down in to the leader, to finish only 15 seconds behind. One step higher on the podium, but more importantly, I realised the race game was changing, the two girls who had beaten me on day one and two no longer seemed untouchable – and there was still time for the overall podium to change! A celebratory BBQ on the beach that evening, I was finally over half way through.

Day 4

Teary eyed and with a stomach bug I dragged myself to the main port for the fourth stage. I suddenly realised where the challenge in these races lay – it’s not just about doing five races and feeling great – it’s how you perform on those off days when you don’t feel right but still have to race. I cried into my goggles and came out the water with less than a 10 second lead, with no energy for the complicated bike leg which involved descending four separate hills, doing a dead turn at the bottom of each and then climbing back up them. I hit the run transition in 5^th, my lowest position yet and headed out on the step filled race around Napoleon’s palace walls. Historically interesting maybe, but today I didn’t really have the time to appreciate it. Miraculously I gritted my teeth, found my run legs and turned the last corner back on to the promenade and into the finish chute to finish second.

Day 5

Groundhog day. I can now pack all my stuff up for a triathlon in under 15 minutes and I can barely remember what it is like to not get out of bed, eat breakfast, then go and race a triathlon. Can’t get too complacent yet though, as today was the decider as to whether I finished 2^nd or 3^rd overall in the series. I finish 2^nd, I come 2^nd overall, but if I finish 3^rd, it’s the bottom step of the overall podium for me… Still feeling a little delicate after Day 4, I was glad today was the final day. The sea swim was super choppy, which suited me and gave me a decent lead heading out on to the bike. Unfortunately, the bike course was the worst of the week, hairpin bends and steep descents left me clutching at my brakes whilst two girls flew past me less than 10 km in to the bike. As I started the final run leg of the week, someone screamed run splits, second place was 90 seconds ahead. Third overall it was then, 90 seconds over 5km ain’t happening any day, let alone on race day 5. About 1km in to the run, I suddenly realised I hadn’t dragged my legs round yesterday to resign myself to third place at the final hurdle, and hit the gas. I overtook second place 4km in, at the top of the hill, and didn’t look back for the last km descent in to the finish. 2^nd place and second overall. Job done, rest day tomorrow I think!

Thanks to the Jack Bloor Fund for helping me finance this mighty race experience – I had an amazing time and am already left wondering where the next challenge is going to take me!

The WSO Championships takes place every 2 years and more than 800 athletes competed this year. There is a large focus on fair play, competition and developing friendships between different countries.

The whole event started with a huge opening ceremony and each team paraded through the streets of Palermo chanting and waving their flags. After the opening speeches the Torch was lit, like in the Olympics, while this year’s anthem was played. We were full of excitement for the week ahead.

There were teams from 27 different countries all over the world including China, Israel and New Zealand etc. People lined the streets to cheer us on (Tour de Yorkshire style). I felt very privileged to be part of the 40 athletes from England.

The competition area was in the Bosco della Ficuzza near Palermo. It is the largest forested area in Sicily and the arena was located in front of a typical Mediterranean style villa. As soon as we arrived we were hustled into Quarantine. Here we had to wait without any contact to “the outside world” until our start. Everything was live streamed to facebook, and the radio made their way around interviewing athletes. Even in the start boxes massive cameras were filming our progress. This really added tension to the athletes and spectators and I needed to make sure I stayed focused.

The Terrain was nothing like I had ever experienced. I was surprised at how technical and physically demanding the forest was. The map was covered with spiky green thickets on a rocky slope with many very indistinct features like streams without water, unclear vegetation boundaries and invisible paths. I started the first race determined not to get lost. The key was a steady and accurate orienteering. The winner would be the one who did the least mistakes and was prepared to get scratched most. I came 15th.

The middle distance race on then next day was in a similar area and this time I was more prepared. I mainly took compass bearings and paced to the controls. Scratched from top to bottom by the Italian undergrowth, I arrived 12th at the finish, scoring highest for my team. I knew I could have done even better if we had another race, but it was a great result and we the team managed to gain an overall 5th place.

I learned a lot from this event: how to cope with the pressures and nerves of competing internationally without letting myself get distracted by the media and attention; how to face the challenges of racing in a unknown terrain; and understanding how international events are run. I am honoured to have represented my country in the sport I love.

A big thank you must go to the Jack Bloor Memorial Fund which helped me raise money to finance the trip.

Not only did the event help me as an athlete but it was also a very memorable and valuable experience for me.

I’m looking forward to putting my experience and the things I’ve learned into practice at the Junior European Cup in Austria.