Alan Pimm-Smith describes his kayaking adventure around the musandam peninsula.

1. Sea Kayaking Notes:
Solo paddle around the
Musandam Peninsula
T
hursday: Pushed off the beach at 10.30 am.
Perfectly calm. Six and a half kph, occasion-
ally seven. Max speed recorded on GPS
8. Stopped at small beach and cove on the head-
land that separates Khor Sharia and Ahmed’s Khor
(where Mark and I went). Rested only fifteen min-
utes or so.
Thought I’d avoid Lima because of the village,
though it looked as though there was a good deal
of deserted beach to the right (north) of the village.
Headed for the next Khor, sun setting. Small beach
with a few houses. Everything dark grey and mauve.
Mountain coastline merging with the sea and the sea Stop for a breather.
blending with the sky, a sort of marbled effect.
Khasab. Prior to that he had worked at the Customs-
Couldn’t go back to Lima, so landed. Four houses, post at Thabit (the Omani border at Sham). He asked
four families (see Google Earth). Half a dozen men if I had a passport and visa. I offered to show him,
and some younger boys came to meet me. All very but he said no need. No problem.
curious. One stood out from the rest. Very present-
able type, spoke some English: Ahmed Hassan. They then all left to let me prepare for the night
and have my meal. Ahmed offered me a roof for
I asked if I could stay the night. They helped me the night. I declined. He then said he’d come back
pull up the kayak. Ahmed wanted to know where I when I was settled. He told me he had four houses in
had come from, where I was going. I told him. He various locations. How one family had moved from
said he was a police officer at the Customs Office in Lima and settled in Dubai. They never came back.
His father was here, an older man with one eye. The
Evening light, paddling along the coast near place was called Marawi.
Lima to eventually stop for the night at
Marawi. He showed with his torch the way the track went up
Four day kayak trip around Musandam from Dibba
to Ghalilah.

2. First night’s stop: Light fading nearing the through the gap between the tip of Ras Marawi and
tiny hamlet of Marawi. the island at the point. Rudder touched the bottom.
the narrow wadi to the settlement in the mountains. At Marawi one of the boys had told me that high
Jebel Khatamah, where his family also had a house. tide was at 6.30 pm. I made a mental note of this for
He would get a boat back to Khor Negd on Friday the Bab Musandam crossing. Absolutely no landing
afternoon, then by car to Khasab, ready for work places between Marawi and Khor Habalayn. Ras
on Saturday morning. Helicopters sometimes took Marawi, then Ras Samid, then on the other side of
them. They landed at Lima, but also on occasion at Khor Qabal, Ras Secun, then high vertical cliffs all
Marawi. the way to Ras Sarkan at Khor Habalayn.
I showed him my GPS, checked our position on the Fortunately it was flat calm with no wind whatso-
map. He was very much on the ball. Read the map ever. This would be a difficult stretch in rough or
straight off, told me the names of places. windy weather. Didn’t know what landing spots
there were on the southern side of Khor Habalayn,
Tuna and sweet corn with milk for supper. Also Arab but knew there was one quite near Ras Dillah to the
bread and cheese. Tomato soup. Tea. Raisin cake. north. So kept paddling and crossed Khor Habalayn.
Slept well.
Friday: Left at 7.30am.
Flat calm. Ahmed had told
me that there was a mili-
tary base at Khor Qabal,
the next Khor along,
and that it was a forbid-
den area. So no resting
place there. Just squeezed
Paddling past Ras
Dillah at the en-
trance to Khor Haba-
layn. Photo taken by
American couple in a
powerful motor boat
on a previous occa-
sion (hence I’m pad-
dling in the wrong
direction.)

3. Shisah and make for the beach Tim and I withdrew
to after having failed to get through Bab Musandam.
About an hour and a half from point to point. In
addition another hour or fifty minutes rounding Ras
Khaysah finger and paddling in to the bay the other
side round Ras Qabr Al Hindi.
Saw a dozen or more twitching fins, long, black, thin
and curved, near the rock. Very close to my kayak.
Sharks perhaps? Two osprey flew over head. Later
saw them perched on the second rock island off the
finger Ras Khaysah.
In the evening, rounding Ras Al Hindi, saw four rays
somersaulting in the air. Saw one do this earlier on
the first day. Very strange antic. Like tossed pan-
cakes, but squarish, grey on one side then white on
the other. Quite a high leap. Several feet in the air.
As I headed for the beach in the last of the sun’s
rays, a large powerful launch bore down on me from
behind. I knew it wasn’t a fishing boat and turned
to greet it fearing the worst. Sure enough, an Omani
Coast Guard motor launch with three men on deck,
one with a gun in his hands.
Camping in Khor Habalayn on an earlier The captain spoke good English. Asked where I had
occasion. come from. I said Lima. And before Lima, he asked.
One hour to get across the mouth of the Khor.
Couldn’t see a beach and didn’t fancy adding to my
mileage by going back into the Khor, so decided
to paddle on. Saw a beach in the bay immediately
around the point, but decided to carry straight on
across the next Khor – Gubbat Ash Shabus.
Headed on for the beach Tim and I camped on on the
last trip. All the way flat calm. Parallel to the rock
that sticks out in the middle of the shallow curved
bay I noted a landing spot. But if one had got this
far, better to go a bit further to the beach at the top
corner where the finger of Ras Khaysah starts. This
is where Tim and I camped before. I pulled in. Still
dead calm. Coming across this bay I saw a fishing
boat. As far as I remember the only boat I had seen
all day. On this stretch very few fishing boats com-
pared with the west coast down to Khasab. Spent an Second night, on a beach round the cor-
hour there. ner from Ras Qabr Al Hindi, and near the
entrance to the Musandam Gate (Bab Mu-
Didn’t feel like stopping so early in the day, and well sandam). Across the water, Iranian Baluch-
rested so decided to make the big crossing of Khor istan.

4. I said Dibba. Where are you going? I said Khasab.
Do you have a passport and visa. Yes. Can I see it?
I point to the beach and to my unreachable hatch
covers. He dismisses that idea. And takes my name
and address. Then he relaxes. Says it’s dangerous. I
say I’ve done it before. Point to my sponsons tucked
under the bungee cords. Explain that with this device
I am unsinkable. Also that I have plenty of food and
water. He clearly thinks I’m daft. ‘Only one of you?’
(No one understands this.) Why no friend? You are
going to sleep here? As he heads off, he shouts, ‘You
need a girlfriend to keep you warm.’
The beach not as nice as I had remembered it. As it
was the place we had retreated to after a frightening
attempt to get through Bab Musandam last time, no
doubt my memories were coloured. I somehow pic-
tured a sweeping curve of fine white sand with palm
leaf sunshades. Anyway, it was very good as Musan-
dam beaches go, all coral pebbles, no sand. Small
patch of almost flat ground above the high tide level.
At night, the sea breaking on the beach formed an
arc of electric light. Mesmerising. Also as it washed
around a half submerged rock. The play of light was
Above and Below: Perfect calm heading to- fantastic, darting this way and that. Fish leaping out
wards the Musandam Gate (Bab Musandam)
in the bay caused periodic flashes of light.
- known by sailors as Dead Man’s Gap.
Put a rock on the beach to mark the high water mark.

5. Moved it periodically as the tide came in. Reckoned All this food, water and gear made the 17-foot kayak
that high tide was around 7.30 pm. This meant I had weigh a ton, but made it very stable in the water. Au-
timed it nicely for Bab Musandam the next morning. guring well for the passage through the Musandam
Should hit it at the slack at around 8 am. Gap, a pod of dolphins described effortless arcs as
they surfaced close to the beach.
Saturday: Got up at 6 am as usual woken by my
watch alarm. Made a cup of tea in the dark, had I paddle cautiously up towards the gap between Ras
some cereal. Small cartons of long life milk good Al Bab and Musandam Island – the north eastern tip
for trips like this. Packing getting more efficient and of the peninsula. This time I keep close to the cliffs
quick. Lots of dry bags. One for clothes, one for of the headland. Not a ripple in sight. Paddle out
sleeping bag and thermarest, one for gas stove and midstream and find I’m barely drifting. Now head
mess kit, two for food. Enough food for a week or west across the top of Musandam towards Khor
more, plus nuts and raisins, dates, energy bars of one Khumzar. See a beach with a house or two at the end
kind and another, raisin cake, almond cake, tiny tins of Khor Maawi, just before Khor Khumzar. When
of sweetened condensed milk, 48 small bottles of Tim and I struggled along here last year in fading
Masafi water. If the weather turned nasty, I could sit light it must have been out of sight or we’d have
it out on a beach like this for days if need be. headed for it.
Looked out over the sea. Thirty-five kilometers due Everything has been so smooth. I’ve completed the
east across the Strait of Hormuz was the coast of Ira- east coast section turned the corner through the gap,
nian Baluchistan. Midstream out there the tidal flow, the weather still perfect, just a pleasant, cold breeze
according to my Admiralty chart, was about 3 knots. to keep one feeling fresh. The passage across the top
It didn’t say what the maximum flow was through could be done in no time at all. I make for the Khor
the Musandam Gap, merely showed a few wavy Tim and I got to last year, just before Kumzar. On
lines to indicate that this was an area where there is a the way fifty or more boats with powerful outboard
tide rip with standing waves or overfalls. motors stream past me. Like a James Bond movie.
Khor Sharyah seen from an abandoned Shehhi settlement. Photo taken on a previous trip.

6. They are on their way across the Strait to Iran. towards it, but don’t land on the beach as I need to
be heading on. See people on the beach. Take a few
Greeted by fishermen. All very intrigued. Invited photos and head out now making for the northwest-
into majlis where I am left with a thermos of sweet ern tip of the Peninsula, the other potentially difficult
tea. I take photos of boats and men. The name of the point with strong tidal currents.
place – Khor Mangal.
Notice a beach at the end of the first of the Khors
Move on after a half hour stop. Pull around into after Khor Kumzar – Khor Ar Ran.
Khor Kumzar. Small beach. Pull in there. See the vil-
lage of Kumzar at the end of the Khor. Paddle down Excellent weather. At the northwestern headland,

7. Aerial view of Khumzar, where they speak Baluchi. I avoided stopping at the town in case
officials asked to see my passport, as I had no visa for Oman.
Ras Shuraytah, expect to see still water, thinking I Carry on down the channel between the island and
have hit the slack. But find a long line of standing the headland – Khor Al Quwayy. From the look
waves on the island side of the gap. I keep close to of the prow of the kayak moving through the wa-
the headland side. No problem, but find my kayak ter it feels as if I am making good progress. I stop
being pulled around as I move across the eddy line. paddling and look at my GPS. Discover that I am
A few vigorous sweeping strokes straightens me out moving at 5kph, backwards. The tide is against me.
and I paddle for it, not wanting to find myself being Paddling at full strength I make 1.5 kph. This makes
dragged into the overfalls. sense as my normal cruising speed in good condi-
tions is 6.5 kph.
As to be expected, a certain amount of cross chop
around the headland. I know there is a beach just About half way down the channel the wind begins to
opposite the naval base on Um Al Ghanam Island. rise. It gets rougher. I am making very slow prog-
I plan to pull in there for a break, but change my ress. I know I have to get to the other side of Khor
mind when I find myself suddenly in the middle of Ghubb Ali, near the entrance of which is a beach.
a stretch of rapids like standing waves. I paddle like Conditions worsening by the minute.
fury with quick short low wide strokes to keep my
balance as the backward breaking waves almost slew Coming around the southern end of the island the
me around broadside. Heart rate speeds up consider- cross chop is bad, worse than anything I can remem-
ably. Once through the tide rip I don’t fancy pulling ber having encountered before. The wind is com-
in to the beach but find another nicer one just a short ing from the west to my side. My hat is blown back
way further on. Stop there. Take some photos of the held on by the chin strap. There are a lot of white
mosque and base on the island opposite. caps now. The kayak is getting slapped around a fair

8. bit. The troughs between waves are very short. The
kayak surges through the top of each wave then gets
slapped down hard into the trough. From time to
time waves break against my midriff and chest.
The kayak feels very stable though. The thing is
to go with the motion of the waves, varying one’s
stroke as required, occasionally delaying or even
skipping a stroke. I find I can keep up a pretty regu-
lar rhythm of long slow strokes.
Imperceptible progress, but with the paddle pulling
through the waves the kayak is made more stable,
the paddle acting as an outrigger.
I know I have to get past the mighty headland of Ras
Khutaymah the far end of which is Khor Ghub Ali. It
is this vast block of mountain that is causing all the
confusion at its feet, for as the waves rebound off it
they form counter waves which meet the oncoming
ones. The result is random turbulence. When oncom-
ing and rebounding waves meet they double in size
and break vertically rather than horizontally.
I find waves breaking over me from either side. And
all the smaller stuff is very spiky. The wind picks up
the spray which lashes against one’s life jacket and
every now and then into one’s face.
Landsat photo from space of the Musandam
I have already been paddling for eight hours and by Peninsula. The starting point of the trip is
out of the picture, bottom right.
now would ordinarily be feeling done in. But once
the battle is on the body seems to find extraordinary
staying power. ening sky. A fishing boat in trouble no doubt; un-
able to restart an outboard motor and adrift perhaps.
The excitement is tremendous. I want to shout, but Not much I could do, so I carried on laying out my
tell myself to calm down and concentrate – rather ground sheet thinking that the use of distress signals
like a violinist playing a Presto movement in some was something I should look into.
heart stirring symphony: all around tympani, wind
and strings are going hell for leather creating surg- I had in fact seen a small boat with two men on
ing emotion, yet each musician has somehow got board apparently just tossing about in the waves.
to keep dispassionate counting the bars, playing the With night falling and the uncomfortable state of
notes precisely and not missing a beat. (As a matter the sea it seemed a strange time to carry on fish-
of fact, I did allow myself to shout ‘Come on Ghub ing. Whatever the case, someone must have been in
Ali’ at one point.) trouble because very soon after a police launch with
searchlight scanning the waves entered the Khor.
The sun had gone down by the time I landed on the
beach. I wouldn’t have cared to continue out there in I had my head torch on at the time and must have
the dark. I secure the kayak, unpack, dry myself off been seen. Within minutes it had pulled up in front
and get into warm clothing. of me, its searchlight scanning back and forth across
the beach and finally resting on me. I waved feebly
While doing this, happening to look seawards towards the blinding light as it edged nearer. ‘Anna
through the vertical walls of the entrance to the Kayaker’, I shouted. ‘You OK?’ Came the reply.
Khor, I saw a yellow flare falling through the dark- ‘Yes, no problem,’ I shouted.

9. Sunday: Up to this point I had carried a spare
Screen shot of Google Earth showing where
paddle, as all the books say one should. However,
the paddle is hid. Anyone finding it is wel-
just before setting off at 7 that morning, I climbed
come to it. Here are the co-ordinates: 26
16.589N, 56 19.785E some way up the rocky slope above the beach and,
with immense relief, hid my spare paddle behind a
It immediately turned away giving me a glimpse of boulder. I then noted the position on my GPS. (See
its blue and white hull and the letters spelling Police. Google Earth for co-ordinates.)
Once they were gone I cooked my evening meal –
two cups of tomato soup, a tinned steak and kidney Anyone passing that way is welcome to it. Now the
pie, and a whole tin of rice pudding, an apple and or- reason for this odd act is this. Some paddles can be
ange. Lying snug in my sleeping bag in the few mo- split into two halves. These can easily and neatly
ments before I dropped off to sleep, it felt as if the be stowed under the deck bungee cords behind
earth itself were tossing and swaying beneath me. In the cockpit. Other paddles have a single shaft and,
addition, my blistered hands felt tight and sore and I what’s more, their blades may be feathered, i.e. the
ached from one elbow upwards and right across the blade on one end stands at right angles to the blade
top of my back and down to my other elbow. That on the other.
had really been some workout.

10. Such paddles cannot easily be stowed on the deck,
and in fact are downright dangerous, as I perfectly
well knew before setting out. The problem with them
is that they are so long they have to be stowed in
front of the cockpit, and because of the angle of the
blades, one blade is always sticking up, either catch-
ing the wind or worse still digging in to the waves
along with the front of the cockpit and thus levering
the kayak into a somersault capsize.
I knew this from experience, having capsized thus
when surfing down a wave off Jumeirah Beach in
Dubai. Before setting out on this trip I weighed the APS looking younger and fitter.
pros and cons of carrying this single shaft spare
paddle and decided, on balance, to take it. But now, immediately felt immense relief at having a paddle
after yesterday's difficult passage, I knew one hun- free deck in front of me. There was still a lot of cross
dred percent I had to abandon it. chop with white cresting waves as I exited the Khor,
but it was quite manageable. All I had to do now was
In any case, I had my working paddle tethered to the to cross the 14 kilometre mouth of Khasab Bay and
kayak with a length of bungee cord, so even should then I’d be on the home straight down to Sham and
it be blown out of my hands – as almost happened on Galilah across the Oman-UAE border.
one occasion – I could still retrieve it.
To begin with, however, I headed down the coast
Pulling out of Khor Ghub Ali early that morning I waiting to see if the wind picked up, in which case
I would work my way the long way around the bay.
Below: Khor Haffa, near Dibba, at the start Before long I judged conditions to be good and
of the trip. Photo taken on a previous occa- decided to go for it, direct to the distant point of Ras
sion. Sheikh Masud.

11. far from the point, but other than that all the beaches
Khor Shams. Not on the route. Photo taken were backed by the road and villages.
on another trip from the narrow strip of
land separating Khor Shamm and Khor Ha- I pulled in at Jiri for a half hour stop, then again
balayn (the west and east coast).s). at Jadi to study the map. At this last beach a group
of local Emirati girls, students from Abu Dhabi’s
The very changeableness of the sea is what makes Women’s College, came to look at the kayak and ask
long paddling trips so interesting. Yesterday I had about my trip. They plied me with drinks and fruit
been surprised by a sudden change in weather, but and gave me a push start when I headed out into the
now was being charmed by constantly improving surf.
conditions.
The breakers were quite strong and, because of all
At the tip of the headland just inside the bay there the attention, I guess, I got the timing wrong and got
is a fine little beach with a picturesque mosque. I smashed when hardly afloat. I managed to get out
snapped it with my camera and carried on around the through the surf but found my foredeck had been
point where two more dolphins surfaced nearby as if swept clean, four bottles of water and my underwater
wishing me goodspeeed. It had taken me three hours camera had gone. At the same time my spray deck
to cross the bay, not having paddled in a straight line had collapsed and had taken in gallons of water. A
across it. I rested briefly and had a snack. most unsatisfactory departure, just when I wanted to
impress.
From this point on the adventure seemed all but over.
The coastline was dramatic enough: towering moun- Shortly before sunset I had got to the point where
tains rising precipitously from the sea as before, but there is a military post with a rocky promontory –
the difference here was that there was a highway Ras Khatm. On the northern side of this promontory
snaking its way along the base of the cliffs. was a long beach and the village of Bukha. It was
time to stop as the sun would soon be setting, but
I had to camp that night, but was going to find it dif- there appeared to be absolutely no privacy on the
ficult to find a private patch of beach. There was one beach, so I decided to chance it and head on round
fine beach with a fisherman’s hut and a few boats not the promontory. As it happened, just on the other

12. Ancient Shehhi dwelling somewhere along Monday: I rose early and was ready to go at about
the way. Photo taken on another occasion. 7.30. A young Omani stopped to have a look at the
kayak. He seemed quite knowledgeable and indicat-
side, and just as the sun was setting, I found a small ed that they had kayaks, perhaps at some club.
beach.
He also knew about GPSs. He asked a pertinent
The stretch of sand between the rocks was not question: ‘When did you arrive here?’ I told him
very large and the breakers were fierce, but I had ‘Yesterday evening, around sunset’. He said: ‘How
no option but to go for it. Luckily, I had on my did you manage that then. The sea was very big.’
sponsons. I did a hanging brace on the first mon-
strous wave to hit me, but found myself uninten- I then discovered that I no longer had my distance
tionally spun 180 degrees out of it facing back out glasses. They had been hanging around my neck
to sea. when I landed the previous night. They must have
been ripped away from the cord as I came in.
I then positioned myself so that I would end up on
the sand rather than the rocks, and took another big Going out that morning the breakers were quite man-
breaker with a high brace in. The sponsons were ageable and I made sure I did it right.
magnificent. For sure, without them, I would have
been mangled. By 10 in the morning I was passing Sham, and inside
UAE waters. I took the precaution of paddling well
The road passed within yards of where I camped, but away from the shore so as not to bee seen by the
the beach was deserted and as it was now dark I was customs people at either Thabi in Oman or Sham.
not noticeable. A cold, strong wind blew much of the
night, but I slept well enough knowing that getting My original arrangement with John Gregory was to
out through high breakers was easier than coming land at a beach in Sham within sight of the border
in through them, and knowing that my trip was all point. But I knew he wasn’t expecting me till the fol-
but over. I was hardly an hour’s paddle away from lowing day and that my Nissan would still be at his
Sham. factory in Galilah.

13. So I paddled on an extra mile or two and finally
beached in Galilah at around 11.30am.
The sea that morning was glassy smooth with only a
gently undulating surface. This slight swell still cre-
ated quite respectable breakers however.
I waited to let a large set pass, then, thinking I had
timed it perfectly, started furiously paddling in, my
sponsons inflated. Hardly had I started paddling,
from nowhere, it seemed, a huge wave loomed up
and started to curl.
It was the most exhilarating finish to a terrific jour-
ney. Broadside, leaning heavily into the foaming
wave, my kayak still weighing a ton but bobbing
about furiously on the sponsons, I was swept a good
fifty yards or more right up on to the beach.
As I unloaded the kayak I noticed a large rock, about
eight feet in length and sticking two feet or more out
of the sand. I had missed it by a matter of a couple of
feet.
Once I had changed into dry clothing and repacked
the kayak on some high dry ground away from the
sea, I walked to the main road where there were
some shops.
I phoned John’s factory. He was in Dubai, but his as-
sistant said my Nissan was there and gave me direc-
tions. I took a five dirham taxi ride and was there
within minutes.