We enjoyed the relatively calm paddle up and across the river. The wind was relenting
a bit as it neared dusk, and the almost slack tide made the river easy to handle
even with our fatigue. As we neared the landing around 6:30 P.M., we saw Marsha
and some of our friends waiting for us. (When our friends couldn’t reach
us on my cell phone, they wisely called the outfitter, and Marsha told them that
we were OK and where we were meeting.)
Some U.S. Coast Guardsmen were there too. Someone on the beach had called them
about half an hour after we started our paddle, probably when we were doing our
first rescue drill. I vaguely recalled hearing someone mention something about “crazy
kayakers” on my VHF but just wrote it off as another boater. Had I realized
it was a Coast Guard communication about us, I would have replied and told them
of our plans and that we were fine.
They had mounted a search and rescue operation that involved a rescue helicopter
and boat attempting to reach us for over four hours. In hindsight, we think we
heard the helicopter, but the cloud ceiling was too low for us to see it. We
didn’t see any other boats, but that’s not surprising considering
that our attention was focused on each other and the tasks at hand.
Finally, the Coast Guard contacted the outfitter where our float plan was being
held. They had probably realized we were OK and just met us at the landing to
complete their report. Next time, I’ll contact the local authorities first
and tell them what we plan to do—that it might look like trouble, and that
we have a marine radio and cell phone to contact them if a true need arises.
The Coast Guardsmen told us that at one point their helicopter spotted us but
then lost us. Although the Triangle isn’t that big, they couldn’t
establish our position well enough to effect a rescue or even make contact. A
USCG boat was sent out, but the conditions near the Triangle were too rough and
would have made a rescue difficult. As well-trained as rescuers might be, you
can’t expect to be rescued everywhere, even when right next to a populated
island with coast guard rescue crews on hand. It’s important to have the
skills and the equipment to be self-sufficient.
Mick, the kayaks and I came through in pretty good shape. I discovered that I
had a cut on my neck that looked like it was made by the edge of a paddle blade.
We surmised that it occurred during some of our early rescue practice. I recall
being smacked by the paddle a few times but didn’t realize it had done
any damage. The deck lines and bungees on both kayaks had been damaged. We replaced
them with a number of independent lines to avoid losing all function if a single
continuous perimeter line or a single crisscrossed bungee were to break. With
multiple shorter lines, if one section fails, an alternate is not far away.
Our paddle leashes were essential. A good leash will have quick-releases on both
ends that could easily be operated by feel. Although we hadn’t needed it
that day, a knife accessible by either hand at any angle would have been essential
if an entanglement with the paddle leash or other cordage couldn’t have
been undone without cutting. After our Triangle experience, I now always carry
one on the front of my PFD that I can reach with either hand.
I have an extensive history of motion sickness, so I wear anti-seasickness wristbands
whenever I expect any rough water. I was pleased with the success of these simple
acupressure bands. If you might not normally have trouble with motion sickness,
focusing on the deck of a heaving boat for extended periods of time can take
you into totally new and debilitating territory.
Plan for the worst. If you’re separated from your boat and paddle, you’ll
have only what you’re wearing and carrying on your body. Any critical safety
gear securely stowed in the kayak or on deck is useless if you aren’t with
the boat. And you need your own gear. You can’t rely on your buddy’s.
Secure everything and carry spares of anything essential.
Know your gear. If you have the possibility of challenging conditions, don’t
add new gear into the mix unless testing it is your intent. When learning to
paddle a new boat, increase your difficulty of conditions gradually so whatever
surprises it might hold are manageable.
Know your paddling partners. It’s important to know the limitations of
your buddies and how they react under stress. Had either Mick or I panicked or
even just quit trying, our day would have turned out much differently.
We lost an expensive carbon-fiber paddle, a chart and a dry bag of emergency
gear, and the deck rigging on both boats was damaged. And yet this was the best
day of paddling I’ve ever had. I learned more about myself and paddling
in one day than in the several years since I had taken up sea kayaking. I was
able to enjoy it because I’d been rational and realistic in my pursuit
of adventure. Mick and I chose to kayak wisely but not be overly conservative.
We both learned a lot by pushing our limits a bit. Our day in the Triangle was
not only a great adventure, it provided us with a wealth of experience to help
us improve our gear and our techniques.
John Martin is an ACA instructor and BCU coach
who loves experimenting and playing on the water. At the time of this adventure,
he worked for Northwest Passage in Wilmette, Illinois. He now instructs for Geneva
Kayak Center in Geneva, Illinois. He can be reached at: john@seakayakchicago.com |