Final Night: Storm

Yet another storm, yet another night paddling. [I am going to be done in by the lads tonight for sure...]

It could no longer be considered as freakish weather. La Nina? Global warming? Whatever it was, tonight's storm was fiercesome.

The moon was obscured and it was pitch dark. We were fortunate we still had enough lightsticks, as we had only planned for 1 night paddling. The storm did not look like it wanted to be prolonged; the intention was to unleash everything now.

Sirens sounded! Suddenly we were under the brights lights of a hydroelectric station. The workers sounded out a series of warning sirens, adding to the tension.

"Silalahi! 15 minutes to Morina Guesthouse!", Halim shouted as we regrouped in pouring rain near the power station.

Despite the storm, the shores were surprisingly filled with locals trying to catch a glimpse of these night paddlers. We found out later people were notified of our arrival, including reporters from nearby towns who had rode in to interview us. But because we were so late, they left. The villagers waited.

The waves abated as we paddled deeper into Silalahi's Bay. The cold rain continued to attack our hats and kayaks nosily. Steam rose from our warm bodies. I saw the first kayak being pulled up by the staff of Morina Guesthouse. I think that calmed everyone down.

Under the driving rain, their service was first rate and more than appreciated. They got a complete soak helping us with the kayaks, and cleared an entire cafe for us to put our kayaks in. The rain stopped as soon as we were all on shore.

Everyone was cold, tired, and hungry. No one was particularly happy that it was another night of paddling in the storm...and I was told the distance was too long anyway.

We were looking forward to out first 'proper dinner' in 3 days. Daniel (owner of Morina Guesthouse) did not disappoint with the food. The highlight for me was the crisply fried fish from the lake.

Suddenly the rain started again violently. Trapped, we were soon reaching for the 20th bottle of beer.

Silalahi sit under the bottom of sheer cliffs, which lined with layers of rainforest, grassy slopes, waterfalls, and deep folds. As houses around us turned in for the tirita-tiritat rainy night, we drank to new friends and our last night at Lake Toba.