Great Big Paddle across Lake Geneva

Dave Cornthwaite's latest adventure across Europe's largest freshwater lake

Last year, Welsh adventurer Dave Cornthwaite paddled the entire length of Australia's greatest river, the Murray. Now, together with a friend, Sebastian Terry, he has just crossed Lake Geneva, Europe's largest freshwater lake, on a Stand Up Paddleboard, becoming the first people to do so. He tells WideWorld about his latest adventure

I was on my knees; freezing, furious water tossing my board around. It was all I could do not to lose my balance, let alone paddle out of there. This was the surface version of holding your breath when caught beneath a stopper wave and I prayed to be sucked out of the danger zone. Glancing behind, I saw my bag floating a few metres away, swallowed by the current, leash still wrapped around it. The swell had washed my cargo off I'm not sure sure how long ago but considering my HD camera and laptop were inside, I couldn't afford to waste time. I tugged it in, pulled up my paddle and gritted my teeth – we'd only been out here for two hours, for God's sake. With fresh optimism, my luck turned and five minutes later I was on the shore, unwrapping a drybag with a pounding heart.

It had all seemed so easy. Seb Terry had arranged the boards, I'd flown in from London with some kit, and three hours later we were on the water. Perhaps further down the line we'd have time for a full-blown expedition, but busy schedules offered us just three days in which to take on a mini-adventure and boy had we come up with one. We stood just centimetres above the waters of Lake Geneva, the adjacent eastern shoreline in bright sunlight and framed by snow-capped mountains. And we were here to see if we could become the first people to cross the lake on Stand Up Paddleboards (SUPs). What's more, this was the first time either of us had travelled in such a fashion.

Departure

We left the marina at Villeneuve in high spirits, the lake flat as glass despite a flurry of cloud forming above the mountains. Rather than head straight out, our first stop was two kilometres north, Lake Geneva's offering of architectural history: the 900-year-old Chateaux Chillon. The tourist cameras briefly turned on us as we approached from the water and crept beneath the bridge linking castle to land. We didn't say much – just drifted behind a medieval building on large surfboards with three-days-worth of supplies strapped to our decks in dry bags. We had nothing more than a tent, sleeping bags, food, documentary equipment, and a destination some 85km west. The thought of not making Geneva hadn't crossed our minds, after all, what could possibly go wrong?

I'd first met Sebastian online. He'd written to me back in 2008 having read my first book, a tale of a buccaneering skateboard journey across Australia. Seb had been gearing up for a challenge of his own, but it wasn't until a year later that his true plans came to the fore. A friend's death had led to Seb jotting out a list of 100 things he wanted to achieve before he died, and rather than hang around he began travelling the world, ticking off items from that list.

So, a month before our French-Swiss paddle, we finally met in person. Number 19 on Seb's list was 'Break a World Record' and as I had some Guinness-related pedigree he asked me to help out. My nimble fingers managed to place 24 eggs inbetween Seb's big toes, which he proceeded to use to crush the eggs, one-by-one, within 30 seconds. With Number 19 and a pleasant certificate in the bag, Seb flew back to Geneva, where he began ticking off Number 43: 'Learn French.' During a chat about my paddling project, The Great Big Paddle, in which I kayaked the length of Australia's longest river, The Murray, Seb had said, quite simply, 'I live next to Lake Geneva – we should paddle across it.' And so that's how we got to be on the banks of Lake Geneva that Spring day; just two fellas who seemed to say 'yes' to a lot of things, in the process of ticking off Number 85 on Seb's list: 'Go on an Adventure.'

It wasn't until two hours into our paddle that the adventure really began. Those far-off clouds started to whip up a frenzy and the swell picked up. On an SUP it's the wind that gets you first: your body becomes a sail, and a headwind doesn't promote forward momentum. It took two hours to reach the southern shore, which can't have been much more than 3km away. And once there, we collapsed onto a sheltered bank.

Reality

Suddenly, we were forced to face up to reality. Dusk was approaching and in four hours of paddling we'd barely covered 6km; this wasn't ideal progress considering our time limit, and it slowly dawned on us that perhaps we wouldn't reach Geneva after all. The wind didn't relent, but we decided to push on a little further, not realising that just around the next point was the mouth of a river – the upper section of the Rhone. This mighty waterway runs from the mountains in a torrent and spurts out into Lake Geneva at its mid-point, carrying with it grey sediment and a temperature worthy of snow melt. Our bare feet, previously so content, began to tingle.

No matter how much you prepare, water is never predictable. There was a definite current emerging from the river mouth but it seemed conquerable, so Seb went for it, paddling out into the stream with all his might. Twenty seconds later he was 100 metres from shore and still going, his silhouetted figure bouncing amongst waves that now appeared to be far more respectable. He fell to his knees and finally made it across, somehow. I had been watching from moderate safety and thought I had learned from his mistake. Moving out and attempting to circle the worst of the swell, a rip dragged me into the cauldron. From the other side, Seb saw my bag swept from behind me but was he powerless to do anything. I was in the midst of it for three or four minutes before battling through. Luckily the only casualty was a plastic bag full of bananas and apples.

Across the bay we pitched tent quietly in the grounds of a public school on the outskirts of Bouveret and put our heads down early. Just under 10 kilometres in five hours didn't bode well with two-and-a-half days and at least 70km remaining. Our only hope was for the weather to change. Waves crashed against the shore and the sky glowed red as we zipped up.

By 6am it was dead calm. Ecstatic, we packed up in minutes and set off, the wake of our boards the only movement on the surface of Europe's largest freshwater lake. We arrowed westwards, the only distraction a pair of overly curious policeman in St Gingolph who were more bemused than suspicious of these aquatic border-hoppers.

By noon we had covered 20km and stood opposite the town of Evian, the home of bottled water. The lake, on the other hand, was ironically murky. We ate, and left. The fear of a mid-afternoon wind drove us on, but the surface continued to shimmer and the sun beat down. After yesterday, this was sheer heaven. Like the Energizer Bunnies we were, paddles driving deep, and by mid afternoon Geneva was closer than our starting point. We took a breather at 5pm and stared across a 12km divide. Across there, hazy in the afternoon, lay a spit of headland separating the main body of water from our final section, where the lake tapers some 30km south west towards Geneva. Fatigue was setting in but the air was so still, we went for it. By 7pm our daily haul read 48.4km, we celebrated by hiding from well-monied tourists and kipped beneath the Yvoire jetty.

The doubts of 24 hours earlier had passed. We knew we'd make it now. By 10am the Jet D'eau was visible, a striking column of water marking the re-birth of the Rhone in Geneva's centre. The end was in sight and we shrugged off sore shoulders and breakfast-less bellies, finally reaching our destination to a grand reception at Geneva's Bains des Paquis. We were the first blokes to SUP across the great lake. And what's more, we'd made it a day early.

The concept of travelling on a Stand Up Paddleboard had its origins long ago, but for Seb and I this was just the beginning. For over a year I've had an eye on a possible 3,000 mile journey on an SUP, and a hard pencil has blocked out Spring/Summer of 2011. Other warm-ups beckon. In early June I'll be joined by the wonderful ocean rower Sarah Outen, and together we will Stand Up Paddle 150 miles between Bath and London, hopping over no less than 114 locks en route. We'd like to invite people to join us on the way, and in doing so we'd like to raise a decent packet for our chosen charities, the AV Foundation and CoppaFeel. Then, later this year, Seb and I will join forces again for a slightly longer journey – paddling the Rhone 700 miles to Marseille from a remarkably fitting origin: the Swiss city of Geneva.

You can see some footage of their paddle across Lake Geneva on YouTube; Visit www.thegreatbigpaddle.com for more paddling stories; For more information on Dave Cornthwaite, visit www.davecornthwaite.co.uk; For more on Sebastian Terry, visit www.100things.com.au