We love hearing from Sea Kayaker readers who want to write about their adventures. Our Journey articles come from kayakers all over the world and of all abilities. The stories don’t have to be about epic voyages, they just have to transport our readers to a place they might only see though the eyes of another. Frequently the impulse to write about a kayaking trip comes as an afterthought, and the words only start going on paper when the kayaks are back in the garage and the camping gear is hanging up to dry. When you have to draw on memory to describe a scene you may discover that the mental images are faded and the details are clouded over. The best time to start writing (when practical) is when the events are unfolding before you. Keeping a waterproof notebook and a pencil on deck allows you to do that. Armed to record your impressions, you just need to take in your surroundings.
When I studied art in college, I discovered that the challenge of drawing was not in learning how to put marks on paper or canvas, it was in learning how to see. The same can be said of writing. If you look and listen carefully the words will come. They can be quite ordinary and plain. In fact, if your reader isn’t even conscious of the words you use and “sees” the story in his or her mind’s eye, so much the better. Our perceptions of the world around us come through our senses, just as a reader’s perception of the world you create is. If you’re paddling in waves that are lapping at the horizon, a reader can “see” how big the seas are—about 2 1/2 feet high—but if you write that the waves are about 2 1/2 feet high, the number is more likely to conjure up the image of a yardstick. You didn’t see 2 1/2 feet and neither will the reader. The number was your conclusion and it is a step or two removed from the experience.
It is tempting to try to convey a memorable scene by using words intended to elevate the experience— awesome, magnificent, stunning—but these words really aren’t at all descriptive. They merely indicate how we’ve pigeon-holed the memory of an emotional response. A “gorgeous sunset” is an economical way to store a memory, but an ineffective way to describe an evening that started out with the patches of clear sky turning a pastel green and ending with a sooty, V-shaped shadow of a mountain peak smudged across the bottoms of the clouds.
It’s said that the job of the writer is to make the ordinary extraordinary and to make the extraordinary ordinary. If your travels don't take you far from home, you can turn the familiar to fascinating if you pay close attention to what you see. The sand on the beaches here, as in a lot of places is gray, but up close only a few of the grains are that color. Many are jet black, carnelian red-orange and amber yellow. Most are as clear as glass. On the other hand, if you paddle the far-flung corners of the world, the things you see will be outside of most readers’ experience. Anyone who has paddled among icebergs knows the spectrum of blues and greens that reveals the weakness of the vocabulary we have for colors. You’re not likely to make an impression with a reader by writing “a bright mid-tone blue,” but if you write “Windex blue” most folks will get the picture in an instant. Your home is full of everyday items that you can use to convey the colors, textures and sounds of the extraordinary places your kayak takes you.
Whether you plan to write for publication or just to record your experience in a journal, writing can sharpen your senses and help you better appreciate the things you see while you’re kayaking. We have more tips on writing on our website. If you’d like to share your experiences with Sea Kayaker readers, take a look before you launch. If you write while you’re traveling, your work will be half done when you get back home. Then drop us a line. We’ll look forward to hearing from you.
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