In our June issue Måns Langert shares with us lessons learned, without the reinforcement of dire consequences.

Måns and his paddling partner were on a 3-day trip in the Stockholm archipelago when a change in the weather coupled with gear problems put them in potential danger. Måns shares with us the lessons he learned from this experience and Roger Shumann (Sea Kayaker safety guru) adds an additional lessons learned section.

Would like to hear from the group their thoughts on this topic. Maybe share with us a kayaking experience that taught you a lesson, even if it didn't require a rescue.

I've shared several of my kayaking mistakes and lessons learned over the years in this forum so I'm hoping this is a new one and not one I've already bored you with.

We were paddling with a group in the Broken Group (a group of islands in Barkley Sound on the West Coast of Vancouver Island, Canada. Fog had kept us out of the islands for a number of days giving us time to explore inlets closer to the launch point.

On day three the fog finally lifted and we had a weather forecast of partial clouds with light and variable winds with the extended outlook more of the same. This is usually an dependable forecast for August so we struck out for the outer islands not planning to do a weather update till the next morning to conserve batteries.

We reached our planned campsite in the early afternoon and thankfully one of the group checked the weather again. The forecast was now for stronger winds that evening. As a result we shifted our campsite to another island to be on the lee side.

Not long after making camp the ranger came through warning all boats that could to head for shelter, a major storm was on its way. All motorized boats left within a few minutes and just our group was left. By eleven that night we had winds with extended gusts to 70MPH plus heavy rain and very low visibility. These conditions continued through the next day and night.

We were lucky that time - had we stayed with our standard daily weather check we could have been caught in a dangerous location. As a result of this experience we update our weather information two or three times a day, no matter how stable it looks.

Mikekayak

That's a great post & good advice. Must have been a wild ride in the tents. Do you update your weather info via the VHF weather channels or use some other method?

In Washington and BC waters VHF works great. Between NOAA, the Canadian weather service and the 2 coast guards (US and Canadian) there are enough repeaters you can nearly always get a forecast. In the past we have taken a receiver that also gave us us access to AM, shortwave and other transmissions but have not used for anything but news so we stopped carrying it.

Going For A Little Swim

I never think about whether or not to suit up for cold water paddling because cold water really, really scares me. I've always dressed for the possibility - however remote - of a long swim. No exceptions. Some people would say that's overkill, but for me, being prepared for a long, cold swim is the only reason I'm alive today and writing this.

A little over twenty years ago on a cold, windy day in February, I found myself - much to my surprise and dismay – swimming my guts out in near-freezing water and large, confused seas in the tide race at Cape Henlopen, Delaware. My beloved sea kayak was nowhere in sight, and unless things got better really fast, I was going to wind up out in the Atlantic heading for Hen and Chickens Shoal, which I figured to be an even worse place for a swim on that particular day. It was, as the saying goes, a real “learning experience”.

On the ebb tide at Cape Henlopen, a lot of water gets constricted, channeled, and merged from different directions by two separate offshore breakwaters before it wraps around the Cape. Under the right conditions, it can be a rough place to paddle. We launched on a strong ebb, which was bumping up against a 15 knot breeze and a 4 foot swell, and we were getting into some pretty rough water when one guy capsized, blew a couple rolls, and bailed out. I was closest, so he and I wound up working on getting him back in his boat. It wasn’t exactly a surf zone, but while we were busy with the rescue, conditions were getting progressively more confused and pushy.

Although he aced the rescue, in less than a minute he went over again. While we were working on Rescue No. 2, his boat got nailed by a breaking wave and basically ran me over. We were getting bounced around, I was upside down, and every time I tried to roll, I banged into him or his boat. Since we were tangled up and, more to the point, I was out of air, I bailed out. I wasn’t particularly concerned at that point, thinking, no problem, I’ve got this one covered. Boy, was I ever wrong about that.

My biggest mistake was basically a failure of imagination. I was banking on my “bombproof” “leave the (nylon) skirt on the boat” reenter and roll, which I had down to under 20 seconds from exit to rollup back then. What I totally failed to anticipate was having the boat knocked out of my very firm grasp when I was half-way back in the cockpit. All of us had short paddle tethers, but nobody had a boat tether. Oops! My boat, with the skirt still firmly attached and maybe half an inch of water in the cockpit, blew away faster than you could say "Arrrgh!" The other guy, figuring I let go on purpose - maybe that was the drill - let go of his boat and it blew away; now we were both swimming.

Although we weren’t more than 200 yards from shore, we had to backstroke the whole way because the water was too cold for anything else, and it took no less than 45 minutes for us to get out of the current. It felt like an eternity. We were both pretty shook up when our feet finally touched bottom, but thanks to our drysuits, layers of pile, neoprene scuba hoods, neo gloves etc., we weren't chilled and our hands and feet were still warm.

During that long swim, I developed a visceral appreciation for the value of a boat tether and belatedly installed one shortly thereafter - as did a lot of our fellow paddlers when they heard about the incident. Ever since then, I've been a proponent of using short, stout boat tethers. Many sea kayakers use paddle leashes and most carry spare paddles, but nobody carries a spare boat. Boat tethers should be an easy sell, but the vast majority of sea kayakers either don't know about them or don't bother using them. Many cite a fear of entanglement. Believe me, losing your boat is a really nasty experience, regardless of the water temperature, and for the record: you can't get entangled in a yard-long tether.

Moulton Avery

Moulton, a scary tale. Tell us more about the mechanics of your boat tether. I use a paddle leash, defining it as a tether linking the paddle and the boat. My notion is that I'll not release my death-grip on my paddle, no matter what, and didn't even when I was struck by a power boat and had to partial-roll and wet exit to avoid being personally impacted. I also know that some tether their paddle to their wrist, not to the boat. Is your method something else again?

Good question, Carl. The boat tether is made with a 3/8" marine-grade, white elastic cord that I purchased from BoatUS.  It has a large loop on one end and a small loop with a brass toggle on the other (not a carabiner - can't open accidentally).  To attach it to one of the side tension straps on my PFD, I thread the brass toggle through the large loop (around the tension strap).  The brass toggle clips into a stainless steel ring that can move from port to starboard via a length of kernmantle climbing rope that's affixed to the port and starboard deck lines.
This setup shortens the tether to a working length of 25".  Folks with wider boats than my Nordkapp would want a slightly longer cord.  Easier to see in a picture than via description.  The goal is to have the cord no longer than necessary for a reenter & roll,  paddle float, or boat-to- boat rescue. Entanglement is not an issue with a tether of this length.

My paddle tether is made with a 21" length of 1/4" marine-grade black elastic cord with a loop for my wrist on one end and a loop / toggle arrangement on the other end which secures it to the paddle.  Working length from wrist to paddle shaft is 14"; again, no entanglement issue.  If I have to remove the loop from my wrist, For example to execute a rescue, I clip it into a small carabiner that is attached to the same line I use for the boat tether. Thus, both the boat and the paddle are attached to me. I still reflexively use the paddle death grip, but it's overkill.

We expect to have the National Center for Cold Water Safety web site up in the not-too-distant future & I'm eventually going to post some photos of the whole setup there. I'll send you some via email.

Moulton