Paddling With Wind: Two Approaches

April-May 2004

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
To download a pdf copy of the magazine click here: > DOWNLOAD

by Alan Wilson

Stabilizing the kayak in an assisted rescue allows the ‘swimmer’ to climb onto his back deck prior to re-entering the cockpit.

After dinner, Roger persuaded John to paddle out into the bay to watch the sunset from the water. Having only paddled a few times, John was reluctant, but he trusted Roger. Although by no means an experienced paddler, Roger had been paddling for about a year.

Watching the sun fall, the two friends sat marvelling at the gorgeous colors. As the sky darkened, however, an evening breeze arose and Roger realized they were drifting dangerously close to the current stream in the nearby pass. He suggested they head for home and he turned his boat, paddling back towards shore.

After a dozen strokes or so, he glanced back over his shoulder in the dimming light to see that John was having trouble turning his kayak. He was caught in the current and his bow was being pushed around by the breeze.

“Come on”, Roger called. “Just back-paddle to turn your boat.” And he demonstrated the stroke, pushing his blade towards the bow of his boat.

He watched as John tried to copy his maneuver, but overbalanced himself and capsized. In disbelief, Roger found himself staring at the underside of the inverted kayak, starkly white in the dim light.

The unreality of this event immobilized Roger. Moments passed. Time seem suspended.

There was nothing. No movement. No wet exit. And it suddenly hit him that he had never shown John how to exit a kayak. He hadn’t even pointed out the sprayskirt grab-loop to him. And it also hit him that being the more experienced automatically made him the leader. A life was in his hands.

Panic flared inside Roger and the adrenaline kicked in. He dug his paddle into the water furiously, picking up speed, racing back to John. As he pulled alongside, he reached over to right the capsized kayak.

Just as Roger grabbed onto it, the hull gave a lurch and John popped to the surface, wide-eyed, gasping. He splashed over to Roger, breathing heavily, and grabbed onto the side of Roger’s boat, almost capsizing him.

“What do we do now?” John asked, puffing with the cold.

Roger’s mouth opened but nothing came out. He’d only ever taken a short self-rescue clinic. And he knew his friend hadn’t even done that.

In Roger’s mind, his instructor’s voice played. “Get out of the water as fast as possible.”

The only thing Roger could think of was to get John to shore. But he didn’t want to lose the kayak either.

Seizing on a plan, Roger told John to hang on tight. He then looped the swamped boat’s bowline around his own waist and set off like this for shore, paddling against the strengthening breeze.

He quickly realized this was a much bigger struggle than he had expected, towing a soggy friend and a boat half full of water against the wind and current.

He inched along, his shoulders screaming, feeling heroic but also scared to death, as if he were caught in a horror movie.

“Is it far?” called John weakly from behind him. “I’m getting cold.”

Roger muttered some encouragement and clenched his teeth again in struggle, spray spattering his face, the shore dim... maybe another hundred yards... his arms weakening.

Headlines flashed across his mind... “Kayaker drowns!” Roger redoubled his efforts, his chest heaving with the effort.

HOW IT COULD HAVE BEEN...

Assisting the rescued paddler to re-attach his sprayskirt..

When John surfaced and gasped for air, Roger clicked into gear. Fortunately he’d taken a class at the kayak symposium and had practised doing self and assisted rescues.

He reassured John that all was well and instructed him to take a role in the rescue. “Hand me your paddle so it doesn’t blow away.”

“Now,” Roger said, “we’re going to drain your boat and get you back into it. First we have to flip it over.”

Together they managed to flip the swamped boat upright, its cockpit awash with water.

“Now grab the stern while I take the bow”, Roger said. He pulled while John pushed and the kayak rose up across Roger’s front deck.

“Let’s turn your kayak upside down again so most of the water will drain out.” They pivoted the boat and water slooshed out of the cockpit. At that point Roger turned the boat upright and slid it back down into the water.

Bringing the kayak alongside his, Roger grabbed onto the cockpit rim snugly so that the two hulls, side-by-side, formed a stable catamaran-like re-entry platform.

“Okay now,” said Roger, “I’m going to hold on tight while you pull yourself up onto your rear deck on your stomach, facing the stern.”

With a lunge and a splash from his flailing legs, John managed to do this while Roger balanced the boats.

“Now tuck your legs into your cockpit and swivel your upper body back in.” He watched as John did so, landing with a sploosh.

“Good for you”, said Roger, patting his friend on the back. Then he grabbed the pump off John’s back deck and handed it to him. “Here, now pump out the rest of the water and we’ll get you back into shore in no time at all.”

He watched as his shivering friend pumped out most of the remaining water, then Roger took the pump back from him, slipped it under his front bungies, and helped John snug his sprayskirt back round the rim of his cockpit.

Moments later they were paddling back to shore, side-by-side, Roger keeping close beside his friend, reassuring him they’d soon be sipping mugs of hot chocolate.