The last time we paddled this part of the Jurassic Coast (video above; more here) we were zipping along under sail or navigating in choppy waters and I didn’t get a chance to have a good look around. Now the latest heatwave and strong winds has subsided, today I wanted to take a slow ride along this world famous section of coast riddled with geological marvels.
The Lulworth Estate owns this spectacular stretch of coastline and makes several million a year off what must be the most expensive car parking in Dorset. And while you can get here on a bus, I’ve got a new way of getting around for packraft day trips: an e-MTB which can tackle bridleways and traffic-free backroads with the boat shoved in the panniers.


My e-bike weighs 28 kilos – double a normal MTB – and, along with the delicate electronics which have already played up in the rain, is not a good candidate for seawater bikerafting. That proved hard enough the other week with my folding bike at less than half the weight of the e-bike. So at Lulworth Cove I locked the bike to a fence and covered it, hoping I’d not get clamped, then set off for the long haul up and over Hambury Tout to Durdle Door beach.









The TXL zips along but oddly, I’m wobbling about on the seat like it’s over inflated, which it’s not. Unusually, I’d put it in with the baffles longways and wonder if that’s the cause. I turn the seat 90° with the baffles now across the boat. The wobbling stops.
Paddle board woman catches up but, despite the perfect conditions, I’m disappointed to see her kneeling, grappling with the over-long SUP stick. In the dozens of paddle boarders I pass today, only a couple stand up. Honestly, I wish someone would tell the kneelers and sit-downers they’d manage so much better with a kayak paddle, like this chappy, or even one of these.
Full disclosure: like gravel bikes, I don’t get paddle boarding, which merely goes to show how stratospherically out of touch I am with the popular zeitgeist.



I continue through St Oswald’s Bay / Man o War and as predicted, around noon the wind pivots to onshore and ruffles the surface. I pass a bloke standing on his SUP with his Mrs laid out on her elbows between his feet, like a forward gunner. ‘That’s how to do it my man, with your reposing young lady providing added stability by virtue of a lowered centre of gravity!‘ I should have exclaimed.





Talking of pecs, on the right (east) arch I realise it’s not just another bunch of young daredevils egging each other on, but proper climbers taking turns to traverse the arch’s overhanging span. I was never into the clobber of climbing. How great it must be to free climb with just shoes, shorts and chalk bag, knowing it’s a short, harmless fall into the water. The bloke in the black shorts made it across to a round of applause; blue shorts bailed.



Did I tell you I wrote a packrafting guide book during Covid? I mention it as I happened to reread it the other day after having scanned something similar. ‘Information dense’ I’d call my style – they only gave me 48 big pages. I should have been nominated for an award from the ITF.













