OK I have just started kayaking this year. What moments in your outings your would rather have been better prepared for or skipped?

For me I got caught int some wild water from a busy intersection of boat channels and the water was leaping up and down in every direction.

Hope I gain gain some insight. thanks!

Getting caught in a barb wire fence on a night paddle in Febuary a couple of years back. Ruined a Good PFD getting out of the fence. Did have extra clothes and was able to build a fire and get warmed up before finishing the trip. 28 degrees that night.

Certainly the most memorable experience in a kayak was a couple of years ago when I suddenly found myself in the midst of about a hundred monster sea lions that didn't act like they were too happy to see me.

I've had a few times when the water conditions got kind of daunting, but the kayak has always turned out to be more confident than the paddler.

That would freak me out for sure.

I think the scariest for me was getting caught out in Florida Bay during a VERY severe thunderstorm. I never felt so small and so exposed to instant death as I did that day.

I can also remember doing a night paddle on the Peace River in Central Florida and not having enough watter to paddle in. While dragging the kayak down the river in the black of night my head lamp illuminated dozens and dozens of reflected red eyes.

Well, I gotta say, as much as I don't like being too close to sea lions, I won't trade them for gators.

My scariest moment so far wasn't really too scary. I was kayaking in Georgian Bay off Manitoulin Island near Burnt Island. This is a remote area on the south west side of Manitoulin. About 6 km from camp I noticed the fog start to roll in. I turned to head back but the fog engulfed me in minutes. I followed the shoreline but had to make a 2.5 km open water crossing. I did have a small gps. But as I crossed in the fog without seeing anything for 17 minutes I realized the importance of having a compass on deck. What if my gps broke or stopped working? The fog was so thick, I could only see about 100 meters. I did buy and mount a compass after this trip. As well I realized the importance of knowing how to properly track and navigate without the use of a gps. I use and practice my navigation skills now and use the gps as a back up.

Chad, I'm glad you got that compass and mounted it on the boat. The first thing I look for when I see the kayak of someone new to me, is a compass. The presence of a compass tells me that the kayaker is a mariner, and not just somebody who owns and paddles a sea kayak. I've made similar crossings, in fog and wind, no GPS, but made possible by having a deck-mounted compass and the appropriate chart.

I've posted something about this before, but my scariest moment was being struck by a powerboat that crept up silently behind two of us while we were crossing a tidewater channel, on a day with virtually no other boat traffic. The powerboat was not up on plane, but moving slowly along at maybe 6 knots, unattended: the owner/"pilot" of the boat was an 83-year-old man seated in the stern of his boat trying to figure out how to use a brand-new GPS unit someone had just sold him. If he hadn't run over my boat, he'd have crashed into the bank. I noticed his boat almost on top of me at the last second, and John Dowd's advice from his book Sea Kayaking suddenly flashed into my mind--roll away from the approaching boat to present your hull for the impending impact, and simultaneously push yourself strongly out of the cockpit down and away from the other boat.

I did all this. When I surfaced, I found my wooden kayak with a huge Great White-sized hole ripped out of the hull near the stern, my spare paddle shredded, and my other gear floating around my boat. Since I had dedicated styrofoam flotation built into my homemade kayak, bow and stern, my boat was in no danger of sinking or doing a Cleopatra's needle. My paddling partner and the powerboat's owner helped me get my stuff together, and get back to the launch site. The owner took complete responsibility for the accident/incident, and was so shaken by it that he said he might give up boating entirely, due to his age. We also agreed on compensation.

I was able to easily repair my kayak, but since that day have kept an almost paranoid lookout for powerboats, and watch their behavior closely for possible danger. Needless to say, with today's level of powerboat piloting, there's a lot to be afraid of.

I got tangled up with another paddler one cold, windy day in a tide race and had to wet-exit. When I bailed out, I left the nylon spray skirt attached to the cockpit, by slithering out the tube, so I wouldn't have the problem of reattaching the skirt once I was back in the saddle.

I have a snug, foam padded, ocean cockpit which is very secure in rough water. During the start of my reenter and roll, I wasn't upside down, but rather floating out to the side with the boat deck just short of perpendicular to the water. I felt my butt touch the seat, but before I could lock my legs and secure myself in the boat, it was rather violently knocked out of my hands and stripped off my body by a wave that hit me from behind. It promptly rolled upright, with about an inch of water in the cockpit, and blew away.

It was a truly awful sight, and it was accompanied by a feeling of astonished wonder and helplessness that I will never forget. I was within a couple hundred yards of shore, but it was rough, 35F water, and it took a long time, backstroking my guts out, before my feet finally touched bottom.

During that swim, I developed a very visceral attachment to my wonderful drysuit & the pile & polypro layers worn beneath it; and also to the neoprene hood, gloves, booties etc. that were busy saving my ass by keeping the cold at bay. That part of the system worked like a charm, and I was toasty warm - and humbled - when my feet finally touched bottom. I installed a short boat tether after that "learning experience".