"No, not so quick," exclaims Josh Waterson, as Sarah my 10-year-old daughter starts feverishly air-paddling under the iconic Batemans Bay bridge.

Waterson, our guide, explains we have two important tasks to complete before we launch our expedition-style kayaks into the water.

"First we need to order our pizza and secondly I need to give you a crash course in paddling," explains Waterson.

As Waterson phones through our pizza orders, Emily, Sarah's sister, who is perched at the front of Mrs Yowie's double kayak, sets a new record for how many times a seven-year-old can change their pizza topping preferences during the space of two-minutes.

I get the feeling it's going to be long two-and-a half hours for Waterson.

After discovering during Waterson's kayaking for novices (and over-excited kids) lesson that most of the grunt in a double kayak comes from the person seated at the back, Sarah enthusiastically proceeds to plonk herself in the front seat.

Now I'm not sure how much notice Sarah took of other aspects of Waterson's "Kayaking 101", for as we attempt 180 degree turns under the bridge her paddling technique more resembles a drunk pelican chick trying to take its first flight than someone trying to navigate a watercraft in a forward direction. At least it's hot, so sitting behind her, I don't mind being constantly splashed (soaked) by her wayward strokes.

"You need to paddle a bit harder here," advises Waterson as we reach the middle of the river and meet the full force of the incoming tide. But it's nothing Sarah and I can't handle as we paddle at pace (well, OK almost walking speed) under the bridge, which is humming with bumper-to-bumper traffic.

The steering, though, is a different kettle of fish and if the trajectory of Emily and Mrs Yowie's kayak is any guide, it seems they have taken Waterson's "crash" course in paddling a little too literally. After an anxious few moments, Mrs Yowie successfully negates Emily's best efforts to ram a couple of moored yachts. Phew!

[Emily and Sarah tuck into pizza in their kayaks under the Batemans Bay Bridge.]

Emily and Sarah tuck into pizza in their kayaks under the Batemans Bay Bridge. Photo: Tim the Yowie Man

Meanwhile Waterson, thankfully oblivious to Emily's impromptu game of "watery dodgem cars", expertly manoeuvres his own kayak towards the breakwater that runs along the CBD waterfront and which is packed with holiday-makers enjoying an evening stroll. The alfresco tables outside restaurants are filling up and the queues leading out of some of the more popular takeaways are already longer than the line of traffic still winding down the Clyde Mountain.

As Waterson rides the unwelcome wake of a passing boat, Harry Gleeson of Sam's Pizzeria runs down from the waterside café with four pizza boxes — our pre-ordered dinner.

With all other watercraft in the harbour within cooee giving us a wide berth, we paddle up to Waterson to collect our pizzas (and yes they somehow even got Emily's constantly changing order correct).

"Just put your paddles down, sit back relax and enjoy your pizza as we drift on the tide," explains Waterson as he loosely ties our three kayaks together, creating a giant raft.

The kids don't need any encouragement for they are already hoeing into their second slice of ham pineapple and egg (yes, really) pizza as we drift back under the bridge.

Between mouthfuls of pizza we wave to cheery fishermen casting from the shore, and watch as teenagers jump care-free off the wharf. We even avoid the seagulls, which seem content to pinching chips from picnics spread out on the bonnets of Y-plated cars parked along the river foreshore than raiding our floating feast.

Waterson only unties us as we approach the oyster leases that wrap around Budd Island, which is just upstream from the bridge. By now the sun has dipped behind the mountains and it's only in this post-sunset glow that we hand the paddles back to the kids for a final last burst of effort in order to make it back to the boat ramp before dark.

I'm not sure if it's the full tummies or the lure of the twinkling lights of the Bay, but Emily and Sarah paddle their hearts out. They've finally got the hang of it.

The Batemans Bay Pizza Paddle is the ultimate on-river dining experience with an expert guide in tow. Next time I might even convince Sarah to sit at the back so I can splash her. Oh, and who knows, she might even do a bit more of the paddling.

I was even more nervous before chugging off in this boat than in the kayaks the previous night, for as a landlubber I'd never really been in command of a watercraft before. Well, not unless you count the Huckleberry-Finn style raft cobbled together by mates with milk cartons and rope that sank on its maiden voyage down Sullivans Creek at the Australian National University back in Bush Week 1991. But that's a story for another day.

But I needn't have worried, after a five-minute safety brief and instruction, we are off full-throttle, at my chest puffed-out with all the aplomb of Ernest Borginne at the helm of McHales Navy.

You aren't allowed to venture on the sea side of the Batemans Bay Bridge – no doubt owners worried on an outgoing tide Borginne wannabees might end up half way to New Zealand, so instead we motor upstream towards Nelligen.

The twilight hire is two-and-a-half hours, which means you have enough time to drop a line to catch dinner and we eventually drop anchor near Big Island, which thankfully unlike the Hawaiian island of the same name has no volcanic flows. The only hazard here is the jellyfish, which are thick in the water, but we aren't here to swim, we are here to barbecue and unfortunately for the Yowie clan, the jewfish I was promised by a local would be lining up to jump on my bait near Chinamans Point went missing, so instead it's a sausage sizzle.

There was only four of us on board, but next time I'll bring a group of friends, which will not only make it cheaper per person, but also mean I can leave the driving to someone else and focus on catching that elusive jewfish.

Happy Christmas.