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Read our other features:
Romancing Sai Kung
Learning to let go
Cabin fever
Get out

We got into the kayak and pushed off from the sandy shore. Goodbye land! The sense of freedom of being on the water was completely liberating, that is, after we got our strokes in sync. Like pros we started counting “one, two, one, two” – it sounded lame but was needed the way we were randomly paddling about. Heading around the promontory, we were about to encounter the first rocky corner of the island.

Suddenly a thought occurred to my partner: “What’s the game plan if we see a shark?” Bourree asked. “There is no game plan,” I said. “We’re screwed; although I did read an article about how a guy gouged out a sharks eye and got away alive – with one less limb though.”

I looked down into the impenetrable waves, trying not to acknowledge that we were in open water and that our kayak was blue. We resembled a plump seal. Um, worst kayak design ever!

Our thoughts of panic were quickly distracted by a school of jumping fish that leapt a few inches clear out of the water off the port bow (oh yeah, we were talking nautical baby). While the water was less than impressive, with random flotsam floating past our paddles, the view of the island was breathtaking. Lush green shrubs covered the hills, interspersed with ridged boulders protruding out from the lush vegetation. Two secluded beaches were spotted about 20 minutes apart from one another – the first covered in a light film of washed up trash, while the next was a beautiful patch of golden sand. We stopped off briefly for a rest, and then headed back out into the unknown.

We decided to call Hamish to see how his house arrest was going (there is always reception). “Hamsterdam,” I shrieked. By the sounds of it, he was bored and reeking of body odour (I swear I could smell it down the phone). Ewwww.

“Bring me gum,” ordered the sullen Kiwi.

Bourree then began negotiating the items we would supposedly bring him tomorrow. This is before I heard from behind me: “Oh no, low battery. This is our life blood, bye!” Bourree screamed and slapped the phone shut, sealing it safe in a Ziploc bag.

By this point, the current was being increasingly disturbed by intense boat traffic. The choppy water was colliding in all directions, and our kayak was going nowhere. After yelling “Dig deep!” and “C’mon!” for a good 40 minutes, we finally reached a boat yard where we could take refuge. Both of us slouched down like slugs catching our breath after the exhausting paddle.

We thought we were safe in the Typhoon Shelter, until people on shore began yelling at us to be careful of boats. And then we saw it. “Ferry coming!” Bourree screeched in panick. “Where is it headed? Look where it’s going? It’s coming straight for us! Back paddle!”

“It’s not headed toward us. Calm down,” I said – even though I knew we were about to be gutted by the gargantuan, rapidly approaching boat. Instead of a leisurely paddle around the island, our adventure objective now changed to “Get the hell out of the kayak and back to civilisation.” Thankfully, the wind started to pick up, gently pushing us back towards the beach. We made our thanks to Tin Hau.

As we came into shore, our strokes perfectly in sync, we powered through the water like two Olympic athletes. We saw sand, flags and buildings ahead and shouted in victory – only to have the victory chant turn into another hour of shouting obscenities – the shore looked a lot closer than it really was.

There was a time where we thought we weren’t going to make it, that it was a mistake for first time kayakers to think they could circumnavigate Cheung Chau. Yet, in the end, the mission was a success. Would we do it again? Hell yeah we would.