I Lead a Paddle?

Life has been getting a little rough as of late and I needed some kayak time - preferable kayak time involving at least the possibility for danger. I kept watching the RICKA message board for someone to post a paddle, but by Thursday I was getting desperate. I couldn’t run the risk of nobody posting, so I took the leap.

The plan was to launch from Ft. Wetherill and paddle towards Beavertail with at least a few people confirmed. (I am not allowed to paddle solo.)

The first thing I did in the pre-launch briefing was make it very clear that I was not leading anything…. I was just a person with a desperate need to paddle. I was more than happy to do whatever the group wanted as long as it involved paddling.

The conditions looked promising in the morning. There was enough swell rolling in to make the rocks between Wetherill and Mackreel Cove interesting. I hoped that it would also make the coast going down towards Beavertail fun as well.

We made our way out of Wetherill hugging the coast to make the most of the conditions. There was plenty of bounce in the water to make the rocks fun and create the illusion of danger. At a minimum it was feeding my need for adrenaline.

We found a nice play spot where waves were breaking over a rock. It was a feature that looked challenging and appeared to offer some level of danger. After a few runs, the feature maintained its fun level but lost its sense of danger.

Fortunately, one of us mistimed a wave just enough to get knocked over. It was a minor thing. Paddler and kayak were unscathed (ego might have been a bit bruised).

The rescue also brought the sense of danger back to the rock and we milked it for all it was worth.

From there we worked our way along the coast playing in any rocks the looked interesting. We  found plenty of opportunities before we got to Mackerel Cove.

From Mackerel Cove to Hull Cove conditions flattened out.

We lunched at Hulls Cove. We hoped to find some surf, but it was pretty dead.

The return paddle was mostly just a touring paddle. We tried to eke out any play opportunities we could find, but they were few and far between.

It was probably best that the return trip was less active.

Returning to the Scene of the Crime

Father's Day, and the whole weekend thing, totally snuck up on me. H asked me what I wanted to do for Father's Day and if there were any paddles I wanted to do over the weekend and I was like "What you talking about Wilson?"

I was torn about what to do: I felt like I should do something with the family, but I really wanted to go kayaking. Since nobody in the family had anything they wanted to do as a family, I decided that I would do something I wanted to do - well mostly what I wanted to do. Since I am still relying on the kindness of H for a kayak I am bound by certain constraints concerning proximity to rocks and other possible dangers...

The original venue was URI Bay Campus. The opportunities for kayak destroying rock encounters were pretty low.

At the last minute the venue was changes to Fort Weatherill… Last time I paddled out of Weatherill, I came back with a hatch full of water and significantly less gel coat. The Aries bow was crushed and one side of it was devoid of gel coat.

H was a little less enthusiastic about me taking her kayak out of Weatherill, but I swore I would definitely not paddle near any rocks. I would avoid any situations where the chances of contact between her hull and a rock were greater than 10 percent. (I did try to offer zero percent, but neither of us believed that was a promise I could keep.)

Conditions were good for me keeping my promises. The wind was light, the swells were small, and the tide was high. It looked like one would have to go out of their way to be in any danger. I planned on going the other way and working extra hard to stay out of trouble.

Staying out of trouble was a fun challenge. The challenge was purely internal. I am highly susceptible to the siren’s song; I often just find myself in the rocks without knowing how….

The fun was in continuing to learn the ways of the Cappella. Paddling a new kayak once is sort of liking getting high for the first time. You know things are a little off, but you don't notice the details. Also, the first time I paddled the Capella was in moving water and open water swells is a very different paddling field.

The Capella, despite its diminutive size, is built to be a touring kayak. It has a long water line, a defined keel, and not a ton of rocker. It goes straight very nicely. It turns languidly unless pushed. A sweep stroke or a little edge will get it to turn, but not quickly. Big, fast turns it require fineness and a bit of aggression.

The Capella needs to be edged to release the hull and sometimes it needs to be edged a lot and given a nudge. I realize that I'm speaking as somebody who has spent years paddling the sea kayak equivalent of a whitewater kayak. I'm used to just turning my head in the direction I want to go and having the kayak spin underneath me. The Aries is all rocker and flat hull.

Playing near the rocks and zigging in and out of the bumps in the shore takes more thought and effort. This was even more true given the slack conditions. There was almost no swell to assist in getting the hull to release. The upside of the easy conditions, and a strength of the Capella in general, was that getting and staying on edge is easy and comfortable.

Where the Capella really shined was when we crossed Mackerel Cove. The wind was blowing into the cove enough that the Aries would have required some serious work to keep straight. The Capella, however, just moved along on a straight line. I didn't need to waste any effort on correcting strokes or using the skeg.

After lunch a Hull Cove, I decided to add a little more challenge to my day. I packed the stick onto the deck and assembled the trusty old Lendal. If I was going to paddle an old school British sea kayak, I might as well do so with an old school British kayak paddle.

I noticed two things right away. First, the Lendal puts a lot more force on my body. Second, the Lendal generates a lot more immediate force when put in the water. I didn't gain any super powers, but I could get the Capella to react faster.

We paddled south along the coast a little ways to visit "the cave." It was a very cool little cave that is just wide enough to back into if you are willing to use your hands against the edges. The passage gets too narrow for a paddle.

After the cave we made our way back along the coast towards the put in. Along the way I kept experimenting with the Lendal to see what it could do and how it behaved. Overall, I was pretty happy with it although not enough to switch full time. The power is all front loaded, which can be nice, but it does take a toll on old joints. Ultimately, I didn't find anything I couldn't have done with the stick. The stick requires a little more finesse and commitment for some things, but it gets the job done.

One fun fact about paddling the Capella with the Lendal is that both the kayak and the paddle are nearly old enough to have driver's licenses. I am definitely and old timer....

Back at the beach, I tried my roll with the Capella and the Lendal. It did not go well. The paddle dove and the hip snap didn't compensate enough. I tried to switch paddles, but just couldn't stay under long enough to get the stick assembled and into position. After a failed renter and roll attempt where I couldn't seem to get myself properly positioned in the cockpit, I was pulled out of the water feeling a little dejected.

Just so I could say I finished strong, I did manage one roll with the stick. It was not the prettiest thing in the world, but it worked. The Capella seems to require more commitment to roll; or paddling a few miles with the Lendal wore me out....

Life isn't as fun when your not learning new things...

The Day the Luck Ran Out

Somehow, I managed to convince my most excellent wife to let me escape two weekends in a row!! How lucky am I to have a great wife and the chance to paddle on a great day?

I was surprised that I got a paddle day considering that her dance recital soaked up one of the days - her class did a kick-ass dance to a classic boy band song that put the kids to shame:)

The plan was to paddle out of Ft. Wetherill and play on the coast heading down to Beavertail. Conditions were excellent: clear skies, gentle breeze, some swell, but not too much, and low tide to expose more features.

We headed south towards Mackerel Cove and took every opportunity to play in the rocks.

There were slots to navigate and just enough swell to make things interesting. It was perfect conditions for pushing the Aries and I just to edge of the zone. I had to pay attention and paddle with intention, but didn't have to worry too much about getting smashed or smashing someone else.

Once we crossed Mackerel Cove and were more exposed to the open ocean the swell got bigger and pushier, but still well within play limits. There were a few spots were the adrenaline got pumped up to 11, but nothing serious.

It was a fun morning.

We popped into Hull Cove for lunch and enjoyed the sun and good conversation.

The swells had picked up some power while we ate. They weren’t rolling up the against the rocks; they were crashing against the rocks.

The swell upgrade didn’t deter some of us from getting in close. If anything the bigger swells made paddling in close more fun until it stopped being fun.

I was following Tim G along the shore and there started to be more white water than green water. The swells were starting to get pushier and it was time to move out.

Tim turned out over a good size wave. As soon as he was clear I edged over and started a sweep turn out to sea.

As I initiated the turn a deep trough formed next to the rock and a gigantic swell picked up my bow. Then it picked up the rest of the kayak, carried over one rock, and slammed it into the rock shore. The bow was pinned in a crevice so any attempt to swing out before the next swell slammed into me was not going to work. I hoped that maybe it would be a nice gentle swell that would lift the bow up enough to free it. No luck. I was upside down in the rocks.

Fortunately, the water was deep and I remembered to stay close to the deck. I pulled the deck and popped out while making sure to keep the kayak between me and the bigger wall of rocks and to keep my hands ready to protect my head.

The cavalry was already in place by the time my head popped out of the water. They had me push the kayak out of the rocks and towed it clear of the break. Once the kayak was clear, I swam out to a waiting kayak that pulled me the rest of the way out of the danger zone. Because of the rocks and swell and such, the rescue took some time, but it was done as quick as possible. The rescue team did an excellent job staying calm and radiating that calm to me.

Once I was back in the kayak, it was time to assess the damage. 

Other than being a little rattled, I was fine. Luckily, I managed to avoid any contact with the rocks. I was properly dressed for the water and was back in the kayak within a few minutes.

The pumpkin was a different story. There were a few patches where the gel coat was missing and a few visible cracks.  It was hard to tell if it was taking on water, but it seemed to be floating normally. The cockpit was staying dry which was good.

In assessing the incident and what could have been done better, one thing was clear: I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Once the wave came in, there was not much I could do to escape. It picked up the bow and pushed it into the shore with more force than I could counteract. Once the poop hit the fan, things went about as smoothly as one could expect. Once on the wave I presented the hull to the shore to take most of the impact. I did my best to keep balanced so when I was dropped, I might have a shot at getting out. Once I knew I was going over, I tucked tight to avoid hitting my head and made sure to come up so that I was not between the kayak and the rocks. The rescuers set up quickly and did all the right things to get me and the pumpkin safe.

Someone suggested that we high tail it back to the put in just in case I had some shadow injury or the damage to the pumpkin was worse than it looked. I rejected that idea because I was fine and the pumpkin was floating just fine. If the situation changed, we could adjust as needed. There was no reason to ruin everyone else’s fun.

I continued to play in the rocks along the way back to the put in, but was more cautious. The swells also got smaller as we moved further up the bay. Despite the incident I was still feeling in the groove and the pumpkin was doing fine.

The last set of rocks humbled me. I set up to run a slot through them and just mistimed things. The swell came in behind me fast and hot. Before I knew what was what I was turned sideways in a hole that was too narrow for even the pumpkin to turn. I got jammed up in the rocks and had to come out of the kayak again…

It was another quick rescue, but once I got back in the pumpkin I could tell she had water in the bow.

We were just about back to the put so it was not a big deal. I just stayed away from any more rocks.

Back at the beach people were doing rolling practice and I could not resist participating. I needed a win after the incidents. My roll did not disappoint.

Once back on the beach, it was time to do a full kayak damage assessment. The front hatch was full of water and you could see daylight in more than one place. There was also a big spot on the side of the cockpit that was missing gel coat and was letting the daylight through. The spot on the cockpit wasn’t as worrying as the bow because the cockpit didn’t seem to be taking on water.

One of the paddlers who lives near to Dr. Carl offered to take my kayak to see about if the pumpkin could be repaired. (Dr. Carl assures me that it can be repaired despite looking like it got shot off the roof of a car at 60mph.)

Despite the incidents, this was one of my favorite paddles of the year. The weather was great and the rock play was exhilarating. I also felt like I was in the zone for most of the day. Even the incidents were more fun than scary. I felt like both were just bad timing and I did the best I could with hand I was dealt.

The only thing stood between the paddle and perfection was the knowledge that I’d be missing the pumpkin for some time.

It truly is better to be upside down in my kayak than almost anywhere else.

Hunting for the Hound of Wetherill

The best way to integrate the skills picked up at the Gales is to turn around a kayak the next weekend!! I'm not sure what H was thinking giving me a paddle pass two weeks in a row.

It was a great day to paddle: sunny with a slight breeze and some swell coming up the bay.

We worked our way south towards Beavertail hugging the coast and playing in anything that looked remotely interesting. I was feeling pretty bold, so I tried anything that looked passable. There were plenty of getting through ugly, but the conditions were gentle enough so that there was no carnage.

The rocks just to the north of Mackerel Cove had a nice break over them, so we headed out there to do some surfing. It was a nice wave and just about everyone caught a good ride. I, however, just couldn't get it straight. The first couple of times I was just out of perpendicular to the wave and my stern got pushed. After Tim G. explained to me that the trick was to see what the wave was breaking over and then point the bow towards it, I tried one last time....

The wave broke and crashed right over a giant pointy rock. I just couldn't make myself do it. At the last minute, I slid my butt just a bit and let the stern get turned by the wave and surfed away from the rock. Bold only goes so far some days...

We lunched at Hull Cove and debated heading further south towards Beaver Tail. There was also some politics being batted about, but politics and paddling definitely do not mix.

After lunch the swell and the wind disappeared. There was still enough going on to find some play spots, but noting quite as fun as in the morning. We managed to find some trouble though. I may have donated more gel coat to the water gods on the way home than on the way out.

When we got back to Wetherill nobody was ready to get off the water, so we paddled around the bend to see if there was any action by the big house. It was a nice extension to the paddle, but conditions remained calm.

After a quick photo shoot, we headed back to the put in and called it a day.

A few rolls proved what I was suspecting at the Gales; my neck gasket needs to be replaced and the dry suite will need to spend a few weeks in the shop.

The day was a great way to end a paddling season while I wait for my dry suite to be ready for some winter paddles.

The Big Swell

 On Sunday I asked for clearance to paddle today. There were no paddles scheduled, but was confident that someone would post something. With a busy family, pre-clearance is always a good thing. Time that is not scheduled gets eaten.

When Thursday rolled around and no paddles had appeared on the message board I started to get worried. I was not ready to coordinate a paddle or convinced that anyone would drive north to played around in Boston Harbor.

Fortunately someone jumped in and proposed a crazy reef paddle out of Stonington. More experienced and level heads intervened and the venue was changed to the Bay Campus. We would still get a chance for big swells and wind without the tide race and exposure.

From the put in things seemed pretty tame. There was some wind and a little swell. It was the perfect weather for trying out my new Peak UK paddle jacket.

Our plan was to cross over to Jamestown paddle towards Beaver Tail, cross over to find a lunch spot, and paddle back along the bluffs. This plan meant paddling into the wind and swell on the way out, but getting a nice ride on the way home. It also offered some flexibility in terms of where we crossed back to the mainland.

The crossing over to Jamestown was bumpier than usual, but not too rough. We all could have used a little warming up before heading straight out, but we were impatient. This ultimately cost us a paddler. One of the group through their back out making the crossing and needed to be towed back to Bay Campus.

Two paddlers kindly volunteered to do the towing and catch back up with the rest of the group. The pairing was both needed to do the tow - one to stabilize the injured paddler and one to do the towing - and so that they could safely set out again after making sure the injured paddler was safely on shore, packed up, and capable of getting home.

The rest of us headed down Jamestown taking our time and playing in the rocks. We were in the lee of the island so the wind was not much of a factor and the swell was just enough to make things fun. Practicing boat control in tight spots is always a good time.

It is also a good time to do some rescue practice. I was waiting for my turn on a feature where you slipped between a couple of rocks and the shore when the paddler working their way through got stuck. They put up a good fight, but just couldn’t stay upright.

Before starting into do a rescue, you should have a plan… I just started moving around the outside of the feature hoping the paddler would push their kayak out of the hole for me to grab and then swim out. That didn’t happen... Next thing I know I’m in the entrance to the feature with one hand on my paddle and the other hand holding an upside down kayak with its pilot hanging on to it. 

I could not do a one handed scull and tow us out.. then I remembered that I had a cowtail attached to my PFD!!

Once I latched the clip onto the other kayak, we were out of the rocks and into a position where someone could safely put the paddler back into the boat. In short order everyone was back in their kayaks and we were off.

As we worked our way towards Beavertail the swells picked up significantly. Once we got to the point the wind was also making itself felt.

Crossing over to Whale Rock was going to be a fun ride!

Before we started the crossing, we were told to stay together as much as possible and not get carried away catching the swells.... It is like they were reading my mind.

Before I could stop myself, I was out in front of the pod flying surfing the following seas. The swell was nice and uniform, so the Aries just glided over the water.

It didn't take too long for me to realize that I was out of order, so I laid down some rudder and let the pod catch up. Once back with the pod, I was careful to watch my speed and my bearing.

Once we got to Whale Rock we turned back up the Bay to find a lunch spot that was out of the wind and with at least some sand.

After lunch, we head back into the wind and paddled across Bonnet Harbor before tucking in behind the big rock for a quick break.

Once we were along the bluffs, I took the opportunity to practice boat handling in the rocks. There were definitely a few times where I was working the paddle too far away from the hull for maximum efficiency. I was sticking the blade way out hoping to get a big pull and instead just got my body out of position without the strength needed to strong arm the kayak. What I really needed was finest and to keep the blade close to hull with good body position. Fortunately, the Aries will forgive a little bad technique and still turn it just takes more energy and a little bit of panic.

Before long we were safely back at Bay Campus where all seemed like a pleasant fall afternoon.

Today was a perfect paddle. It nice mixture of conditions to keep things interesting, but not scary.

Way More Than Expected

I was excited to get a late season paddle in before dry suit season. (A desk job in a small office has helped me out grow my dry suit....) I knew there was going to be a little wind, but a little wind is just a part of paddling.
As we left the shelter of Ft. Wetheril’s cove, it became obvious that Mother Nature delivered more than a little wind. We started out paddling headlong into big wind and big swells. With little warm up and less conditioning, I found the slog challenging. I was not worried about going over or losing control, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up or make it to the lee for a break. I was an out of shape paddler in a short kayak surrounded by paddlers that paddled multiple times a week in long kayaks. Fortunately, I am stubborn and the Aries has a napoleon complex.
We made it into the lee of Jamestown and worked our way towards Beavertail in relative calm. It was a nice break before hitting the open water again and fighting our way around Beavertail.
On a quiet day Beavertail can be challenging. On a day with heavy winds blowing swells from the north into the shoals and cliffs, it was going to be a fight. At least it was a fight I was familiar with, I was warmed up from the slog into the lee, and I was a little rested from our too brief paddle close to the coast. I girded myself for battle and pushed out from the safety of the island.
Once out in front of Beavertail, conditions were not as bad as they could have been. The swells were big and the wind was pushy. To be safe, we stayed pretty far out from the coast so we wouldn’t get pushed into the rocks.
It was the kind of conditions where the Aries really shines. The planing hull means you get a little boost down the front of the swells. Its rocker and skimpy water line makes it easy to turn out before you get too close to any rocks. The maneuverability also means that you can almost always find away to overcome the weather cocking caused by the heavy wind. (The unfortunate thing is that you are always fighting to counter the weather cocking.)
Once we got around Beavertail, we found the paddling much easier. With the mostly at our backs we were getting nice pushes from the wind and the swells. This was another stretch of paddling the showcased the Aries’ strength, and its weakness. The push from the swells meant I had plenty of speed to keep up with the longer boats and even keep ahead of them. I got a number of nice long rides. However, I was always working to keep the Aries on a reasonably straight course. The wind pushed it around every which way. The skeg helped a little, stern rudders helped a little, sweeps helped a little, draw strokes helped a little. Tim M. suspected that a Euro paddle would have made it easier. I doubt it. I think it was partially the nature of the Aries and a lack of time on the water.
After we carried across into Mackerel Cove, we played in the tiny surf for a bit. It was perfect practice surf. Just big enough for a ride, but not big enough to cause trouble. It was a nice bit of play before heading back into the fray to make the hop back to Ft. Whetheril.
The stretch from Mackerel Cove to Whetheril turned out to be more fun than fight. The conditions were big enough to make being near the rocks dangerous, but comfortably dangerous. If I had my helmet, I would have been tempted to get into the rocks more. Since I had left my helmet in the car, I steered clear of anything too dangerous. I was torn: I wanted to be in the rocks; I wasn’t sure I was up to the challenge; I did not want to get hurt or endanger the group. In the end, I think not having the helmet was the best choice. I could take some small calculated risks without the false bravado the helmet would have given me.
Next year, when I have more time on the water, I can bring the helmet along and play hard.....
Although the day was harder than I expected, it was perfect. I got to spend a day doing what I love. I was challenged and learned that I could still hold my own. It also motivated me to work hard to drop a few pounds and get into the dry suit for some winter paddling.

Rocks of Doom

Getting to paddle two weekends in a row is rare and beautiful. I was definitely looking forward to this paddle. It was scheduled as a rock paddle out of Fort Whetheril; perfect for breaking in the new Aries. A lot of other people were thinking similar thoughts. The flotilla included at least three Delphins which are the plastic older brother of the Aries.
I was hoping for some good wave action to make things exciting, but the water wasn't cooperating. Things were pretty benign. In some ways that was better for my nerves since I am still in the "please don't scratch it" stage of ownership. There was little chance of doing any damage to the Aries while playing.
We shadowed a group of Kayakwavology students along the coast. They moved much faster and further than we did. We spent a lot of time noodling around and taking turns trying to squeeze through tight spots.
I had a great time getting the feel for just how turns the Aries is in tight spots. It really is a white water boat made for sea kayaking.
After lunch we turned around and replayed the same rocks. Amazingly, they got more dangerous in reverse. TM managed to get some serious dings in his hull.
It turned out to be a shortish day on the water, but is was another good chance to adjust to the new kayak.

Circumcisioned

I had given up hope for paddling this season. It looked like every weekend save for a very few were booked up. The fall season, while it can offer great paddling days, is also notorious for rainy weekends. Work was feeling like a long, bleak slog to nowhere. Is it any wonder that most representations of Autumn in literature are bleak and hopeless.Then TM e-mailed asking me to post a Jamestown circumcision paddle on a day that I had free!! I only had two days notice, but I was hopeful that I'd get clearance. I was a little uncertain about my stamina and skills for a long haul paddle, but felt that I could handle the distance and the price I'd pay the next day.
Saturday morning I woke up achy and stuffy... Initially, I thought it was just lingering effects from a long week. As the day wore on, I started thinking it may be a cold. Knowing there was a potentially excellent paddle the next day made me even more miserable.
The forecast for the following day was looking pretty grim as well. There was a better than 50% chance of thunder showers. In New England 50% is hardly a sure thing. I checked with TM and his feeling was that the showers were a red herring.
H kept asking if I was still thinking about going. I kept saying that I was holding off until morning to see if I felt any better. Secretly, I think both of us had come to the conclusion that I was going to be home.
I was not prepared to admit defeat. I packed the car and deployed the roof racks.
Sunday morning I woke up feeling much better. At least better enough to go paddling. The sky was grey and the forecast still called for showers, but the paddle was not being canceled. H was very kind and said nothing and helped me load the kayak on the car.
The paddle crew was an interesting mix of old faces and new faces. It was odd not knowing everyone. It was odd to be using the stick again. It was even odder to feel like I may be the weak link in the chain. I resolved to just pretend everything was normal and that I was still the same seasoned paddler I was years ago.
As it turned out, I am still a pretty good paddler. All the paddles in Big Red kept my paddle muscles in functional shape. The rest of the skills are like riding a bike. I little time on the water and I felt pretty good.
The paddling was an interesting mix of play boating and distance paddling. Our first leg was up to the dumplings to see if there was any current to play in. There was a little, but not enough to hold our interest for long. We then headed south along the Jamestown coast. There was enough energy in the water to make things fun and require helmets. We worked our way down the coast and around Beavertail. Then we headed north up the other coast. TM wanted to lunch at Ft. Getty, so we passed most of the little coves that dot the coast. After lunch we passed Dutch Island and into the harbor. We carried over the beach and headed back to Ft. Weatherill.
It was a long paddle at nearly 13 miles. I was tired, but I felt good. I was fully re-energized and ready for a week of work.... even if I was planning on being a little stiff on Monday.

Bill Barely

I always have mixed feelings about paddling in hurricane swells. There is the natural concern for my own safety, the anticipation of pitting myself against nature, the anxiety of pushing my skills to the edge, the fear that the conditions will be too extreme to play in or, worse, disappointingly calm. Since today was also a club paddle, there was the added concern that the conditions would be present but the group would be unwilling or unable to take advantage of them.
When we got to Fort Getty to launch, it looked like the conditions were going to disappoint. The water looked as it does on any normal day. The swells just didn't impress.
Fortunately, as we worked out way down the Jamestown coast towards the mouth of the Bay conditions grew steadily more intense. The swell got bigger and the water's power made itself felt. Paddling near the shore was an adrenaline rush.
Close to Beavertail getting near to the rocks was nigh impossible. With some deft timing, a paddler could dart in and do some quick playing and slip out before a swell shattered them against the rocks.
The waves sweeping around the head stood a good eight feet tall.
The lead group of kayaks started heading out to the channel marker just past Beavertail. I'm not sure there was a clear plan as to what we were going to do out there, but the siren song was upon us. Just bobbing in the swells at the mouth would have been exciting. I'm sure there could have been some excellent open water surfing as well.
Then a whistle blew and broke the spell. People were concerned that the group was spreading out and there was no clear plan. Some members of the group were uncomfortable with the idea of heading out the marker before making the crossing to Whale Rock.
The group decided making a beeline to Whale Rock was the best plan. While not as exciting as heading out into the really big swells, the crossing was plenty exciting. The swells, while not epic, were big. They were also not particularly steep. It made for a nice elevator ride.
At Whale Rock we watched the ruins take a nice pounding. It was not the worst pounding we'd ever seen, but it was pretty big. I managed to find the perfect spot to get crushed by a wave. (It was a little deja vu from last year's hurricane paddle.) I was taking pictures and someone yelled for me to lookout. Fortunately, I managed to get out of the way before a big wave broke on my head.
We paddled up the Bay a good distance off shore. The swells were big enough to make getting in close tricky. With some keen observation, it was possible. The swells were pretty far apart and very regular. There was time to get in, play around, and get back out between sets.
BH, who got in pretty close, said that the water near the rocks was more like a river than the ocean. He wanted to get in closer, but had a newbie shadowing him. He decided discretion was best. If he goofed up his timing, we'd need to rescue two boats instead of just one...
All in all it was a nice day on the water. We had a little excitement and got to see some big swells up close. It was not, however, an epic day.

Howling Winds and Crashing Rocks

The weather this morning was looking dodgy for a paddle. The sky was overcast and the winds were forecast to be in the 20-25knt range with much stronger gusts.
I was, in what is a becoming scarily regular condition, feeling less than 100%.
My mind was teetering on the fence: go back to bed and spend part of the day catching up on house chores and work or go test my mettle by going on a rock gardening trip in high winds.....
I was willing to surrender to my inner lammo and packed the car. I also packed up my computer. The plan was that if conditions were really bad, or I just didn't feel up for it, I could find a coffee shop and join the ranks of the coffee-addled, Macbook Pro touting, headphone ensconced intelligentsia.
H was pretty sure that the computer would never be powered up. She knows me well enough to know that once I was at the put-in and TM showed up, I'd put aside any lurking doubts and paddle.
Crossing the Jamestown bridge and looking at the West Passage, I was convinced that there was no way the Q-boat was going in the water. However, I was still going to at least go to the put-in, so I could tell myself I gave it the old college try. Bailing out without showing up was just too lame.
I showed up early and then GP showed up. He started hauling his kayak off and getting ready. I was staunchly waiting to see if more people showed up. I wanted some safety in numbers and I wanted to know the plan before committing.
Eventually, TM, CC, BH, RB, Greg Paquin(http://kayakwaveology.com/index.html), and PR arrived. Once everyone showed up, I took the Q-Boat off the car and donned the drysuit. H was right; I couldn't resist the energy of the group.
We started off heading into the wind. We paddled from Wetherill to Jamestown. By hugging the coastline we were able to avoid the brunt of the wind, but there were still spots where it was rip the paddle out of your hand strong.
Just past the DCR building, we were forced out of the protection of the coast and got slammed by the wind. Going forward was not a wise option. We decided to head back and play around the coast between Wetherill and Mackerel Cove.
On the way back the wind kept tripping the kayaks up. RB decided not to push his luck and stopped at Wetherill. The rest of the group continued down the coast looking for places to get in trouble.
The wind stirred up enough wave action to make the rocks challenging. We all pushed our boundaries on quite a few occasions. It was exhilarating. BH even got a chance to show off his combat roll in the rocks again.
Another nice thing was that despite the fact that we were all playing in the same formations, we rarely suffered from dangerous traffic jams.
Greg and PP, who both have a gift for paddling and coaching, gave us a lot of useful tips.
One of the best was to watch how the waves push your kayak around before deciding where to set up for a run through some rocks. You may want to set up out of position and let the waves push you into position as the wave runs through the formation. It makes perfect sense, but I'd never thought of it. I typically try to position myself perfectly for a run and then get frustrated when I cannot stay there at the crucial moment.
Another thing I learned was why a paddler would use cross-bow rudders instead of a regular bow rudder. The cross-bow rudder provides more leverage and a faster turn. I tried it several times, and it is a nice stroke. I'm still not comfortable enough with it to use in rough water. I feel a touch off balance.
After the paddle I was pooped, but very glad I had gone. It was the most challenging paddle of the season for me. The Q-boat has a few nice dings along the chines that need to be patched, which is good. I figure that if the kayak doesn't have a little damage at the end of the season I haven't really pushed myself.

Paddling with Cruise Ships

I've found that over the years I've sort of outgrown level two paddles. Or the adrenaline junkie that I pretend doesn't exist cannot fathom paddling without the extreme possibility of mahem... Either way, I don't do a lot of level two paddles these days which is too bad. They can be fun and relaxing.
Today RC led a level two paddle out of Jamestown and over to Newport. Since today was the only open slot in H and my packed weekend schedule, we jumped at the chance to get on the water.
The weather was perfect: sunny, cool, and calm. The group was a nice mix of people: some that I don't get to see often since they avoid the crazy paddles.
We headed up the Bay towards the Newport Bridge. Then we crossed over to Roes Island. Then we turned into Newport Harbor.
The outer harbor was dominated by two cruise ships. One was an old school ship the other was one of the new style ships. They were both gigantic. Looking at the massive, tall ships I always think they would just tip over in the slightest of waves.

The inner harbor was a buzz with the launches from the ships shuttling tourists into Newport. The launches, which look like life capsules formed a steady line between the docks and the ships. As soon as one left the dock, another landed and another stepped into the batter's box.
We had lunch on the beach just before Fort Adams. Then we paddled along the Newport Coast to Castle Hill.
Once back along the Jamestown coast we paddled back to the beach.
It was exactly what a level two paddle should be: fun and relaxing.

The First Flip

After missing a weekend of prime paddling weather, H and I were ready for a serious paddle. TM's paddle out of Ft. Wetherill looked primed to offer conditions that would meet both H and my ideas of serious. Launching from Ft. Wetherill gives you plenty of options for a trip, but they all involve the potential for playing in the rocks, open water, big swells... Today there was also the possibility of fog and thunder showers.
The crew also offered opportunities to meet a wide range of paddle needs. We had surf/rock heads like RS and TM to the more conservative H and S. In between the extremes we had CC, TM, RR, RB, BH, T, and myself. It was a group ready to face any possible conditions.
TM's original plan was to paddle down to Beavertail, cross the West Passage, and lunch at Narragansett Beach. This plan was ruled out due the morning fog and the predicted thunder showers. Instead, we decided to cross over to Newport and play along the Newport Coast and lunch near Kings Beach. This path gave us more cover in the event we needed to get off the water in a hurry and a better shot at finding interesting conditions.
Going out we found the water to be relatively flat. There was barely enough action along to coast to make playing the rocks risky.
At Brenton Point, there was a little more action. People managed to catch a few good rides. For Brenton Point, it was dead.
The paddling was fun if not exciting. There was enough action to keep you on your toes. The sun was shining. The company was good.

We lunched next to Kings Beach fishing landing. While part of the group was settling in for lunch, BH, TM, RS, and I explored the rocky point just beyond the fishing area. We paddled through a narrow channel and saw some very cute baby seagulls. When we reached the point, we found the excitement.
TM timed his run perfectly and used the waves to avoid being stranded on the rocks. RS's timing was a little off and she was confronted with an unfriendly wave. It was no match for her skill and she scooted through. BH decided discretion was the better part of valor and took the point wide. I lucked out and slipped through between waves.

After lunch, we decided to just head back to the put-in. We figured it would be a relaxing, uneventful paddle back to the cars...
Minutes after I was off the beach, I spotted H in an area with breaking waves. I was hoping she'd luck out and slip by without issue, but a wave popped up right next to her and crashed down on her. From where I was sitting, it looked like she tried to brace, but the wave was too big. She took her first combat spill.
I was a little worried that she would panic, but confident that she would be fine.
Sure enough, she popped right out and never lost her paddle.
RR moved in for a rescue, but got flipped by a wave. RS then swooped in and took control of the situation. She clipped into H's kayak and started towing her out of the breaking waves. She also made sure someone was looking out for RR.
As it turned out RR was fine. He rolled back up without a hitch.
As RS was towing H to flatter water, I paddle up and made sure H was OK. H had stuck her paddle in her cockpit and it was flopping around. To make sure it was secure I stowed it under my deck lines. Unsure what RS's plan was, I backed off since the situation seemed under control.
TM then swooped in to put H back into her kayak. He unclipped H's kayak from the tow and clipped his kayak into the tow. Then he started performing a T rescue. Since the water was still pretty bouncy, I rafted up to lend some extra support.

H climbed into her kayak and was ready to go. Aside from a few bruises, she was none the worse for the wear. She was quite pleased with how well the rescue had gone. She was a little shaken, but also felt more confident in her ability to survive a mishap.
The rest of the paddle was pretty tame. We found a little surf at Brenton Point. The crossing from Castle Hill to Fort Wetherill offered up some following seas.
We had one more moment of excitement in the cove at Fort Wetherill. RB tried to run a slot on one of the rock outcroppings at the mouth of the cove and got stuck. After some comical flailing, he washed right off.
As part of the post paddle play session, I squeezed myself into H's Capella 161. It is a sweet little kayak. It is fast and turns much easier than the Q-Boat. I may need to take it rock gardening some time....

Long Hauling

TM decided to take the week after Columbus Day off and wanted to do at least one long haul paddle. He was thinking of doing either Stone Bridge to Sakonnet Pt., around Jamestown, or both. I'm fortunate enough to work for a company with a liberal vacation package and to have a boss who encourages his workers to use their vacation time, so I was up for at least one of the options.
We decided to paddle out of the Bay Campus, cross over to Jamestown heading north, round the island, and cross back over to Bay Campus. It is a 20-plus mile endeavor. The day dawned rainy. While the rain ended as I drove to RI, the fog and drizzle persisted. At least my coworkers wouldn't suspect I was ditching work to frolic in the sun....
I misjudged the amount of traffic I'd hit and arrived late. TM was waiting patiently. He was surprised that I hadn't decided to bag the whole trip. I hadn't even considered bagging the trip. Kayaking is a wet sport. Drysuits keep the soak off the skin and keep you warm. Besides there is sticker on my desk at work that reads: "I'd rather be upside down in my kayak, than upright at my desk." Unless the conditions are dangerous, I'll take a day of paddling over a day of work.
We launched about 30 minutes later than planned and headed for the north end of Jamestown. The weather kept boat traffic to a minimum, so we were clear to take a long diagonal across the West Passage. Our course took us past the end of Dutch island before we reached the Jamestown coast. The long crossing seemed easy. There was only a mild wind and I couldn't feel much effect from the currents.
However, once we got in closer to the Jamestown shore the paddling got noticeably easier. The current out in the open was deceiving. With no discernible disturbance on the water, visibility suffering from a lack of contrast, and good conversation, I was totally oblivious to what the water was doing to my kayak. While it may not have seemed like much, the extra effort could have wreaked havoc on the pacing for a long paddle.
Paddling north along the western coast of Jamestown, we worked against a northwest wind. It was a nuisance. The wind was just enough to require occasional correcting strokes. I eventually just dropped my skeg to deal with the weather cocking. (For no logical or explainable reason, I loathe using my skeg.) TM's new Explorer's skeg had been removed over the weekend (it has failed twice in the few months he's owned it and the system was out for repair), so he was forced to keep correcting. Fortunately for him, the Explorer tracks well.
After rounding the northern point of Jamestown, the wind became more than a nuisance. It was now working on the Q-Boat's stern which is exceptionally susceptible to wind pressure. While the naked back deck of the Q-Boat doesn't offer much for the wind to grab, the spare paddle and the bilge pump stuck under the bungee cords do. The stern portion of the hull is flat and does not need much encouragement to slide around. Even a little well placed wind pressure will weather cock the kayak. I continually tried to adjust the skeg to neutralize the wind, but I just couldn't find the right amount of skeg to apply. It was frustrating and tiring. I wasn't looking forward to fighting this for 10 miles.
By the time we reached the Newport bridge, I was feeling the strain. My shoulders and obliques were starting to burn a bit. A urinary emergency was building, likely caused by the DD Great One I consumed on the drive down. I was beginning to get a bit fidgety. My stomach was starting to grumble. One foot was asleep. I was feeling wimpy considering we'd only been in the kayaks for three or so hours and had only covered about twelve miles.
To keep from mentally collapsing, I focused on reaching Jamestown center: restroom & lunch break. With a goal in site, the aches subsided and my mind calmed. Tim's presences helped immensely too. It is a great thing to have company.
Long haul paddling, like any endurance activity, is as much a mental challenge as it is a physical one. I cannot imagine how guys like Chris Duff manage to do major solo expeditions without going batty. Or just quitting.
Lunch at Jamestown was uneventful. We didn't want to linger too long lest we get too chilled. We also didn't want to waste too much day light. Crossing the west passage in the dark, after a twenty mile paddle, was not a happy thought.
After lunch, we continued south towards Beavertail. We were feeling better after eating and walking around for a bit. Sometimes, you need to get out of the cockpit for a spell. It also helped that the wind seemed to have settled down-the island was shielding us from it.
However, we were still feeling a little tired. The air was a little chillier and the fog was thickening.
Mackerel Cove was our point of no return--our safety hatch. We'd either turn into the cove, carry over the beach, and paddle home, or we'd continue around Beavertail. I was prepared to go around Beavertail, but wasn't sure it was the wisest path. TM was also postponing the decision.
We made it about half way across the mouth of the cove before TM made the call. We were turning into Mackerel Cove and taking the short-cut. The fog looked impenetrable at Beaver Tail. It was getting late in the day (3:30pm). We were not at our freshest.
While we wanted to complete the big loop, we'd be taking unnecessary risks. There was likely to be fishermen out at Beavertail. If the fog held, or got denser, we'd have no way to see them or judge the conditions. We'd also be risking the fog moving up the Bay and blinding us as we tried to cross back to Bay Campus. If we were fresh, we may have been more capable of dealing with the adverse conditions. Instead we were well-worn.
Kayaking is fun and a good escape from the pressures of life. It is not a good way to die--at least not yet. I've got too many other good things to want to take stupid risks.
So, we crossed over the beach watched by a couple of kids who were playing in the sand with their grandmother. While, many people would have given us strange looks (two men wearing funny suits and carrying funny looking boats out of the water on a rainy day is pretty strange) the kids waved and went back to playing. The grandmother waved and asked if we were enjoying ourselves. We were.
On our way back to Bay Campus, we lingered a while at the Dutch Island Lighthouse. They are doing some major restoration work on the it. It looks like they are going to put a new light in the tower. I'm psyched to have a new beacon shining over one of my favorite put-ins.
We made the short cross over the Bay Campus and closed our 2o mile loop. Despite the weary burn in my muscles, I had to do a roll before getting out. The roll was surprisingly easy.
It was definitely time to get out of the water. I good roll is a perfect way to finish a solid day of paddling.

Rocks, Currents, and Risky Weather

I needed a kayaking fix and intended to get it despite the poor forecast. Today was the only break in my schedule for what seemed like weeks. The forecast was for diminishing rain and increasing winds. The afternoon was forecasted to be particularly brutal with 30knt winds. I figured the icky weather would keep the power boaters at home, kayaking is a wet sport, and we'd be off the water before the wind really started to howl.
I pulled into the parking lot at Fort Wetherill to find two surprises. One was that the parking lot was full of divers - some taking up spaces just for their gear. The other, much more pleasant, surprise was that RB was waiting to paddle. I hadn't seen RB in ages (at least since before the wedding). He was his usual gruff and chipper self. Apparently work had been keeping him way too busy, so he took a "sick" day to paddle.
In short order the rest of the gang arrived: TM, CC, BH, PH, and RR. It looked like a good crew for some rough stuff.
The plan, or what I was passing off as a plan, was to head over toward Bretton Reef and look for rocks and surf. I was thinking that we could continue on towards King's beach for lunch and then head back. However, I'm pretty laissez faire when it comes to planning show & go trips. I just wanted to get out and have some fun without having too much responsibility.
For the fourth paddle in a row, I launched with a helmet firmly on my head. I didn't want to find fun and have to fish my helmet out of a hatch before I could play. Not everybody followed my logic. When we passed Castle Hill and found the rocks, there was a lot of hatches being fished through.
With helmets in place we all found our way into various nooks and crannies. After his stint at the rough water symposium, PH was looking very confident in his skills and his plastic hull. RR was also making some impressive looking maneuvers. BH was, as usual, in the thick of it all.
I was feeling a little cautious today. I wasn't avoiding trouble, but I was being picky about the trouble into which I was willing to venture. It may be the knowledge that I cannot afford major repairs to the Q-Boat. It may be an aversion to putting dings in my new stick. It may be that I haven't been feeling at the top of my game this season. It may also just be that I'm getting smarter.
As we approached Bretton Reef it looked like a thick fog, or a nasty rain, was heading our way. RB and TM both suggested heading back towards the put-in. It would be best to make the crossing from Castle Hill to Fort Wetherill while we had good visibility and before the winds really started howling.
Since their wasn't much surf at Bretton Reef, it was easy to get the group to turn around. I suspect that if there had been surf, certain surf addicts may have more difficult to redirect.
The paddle back to Castle Hill was mostly uneventful. We all took opportunities to play in the rocks some more. PH took some risks and had some nice rides. Then he decided to follow BH....
BH caught a sweet ride through some nasty looking rocks. It looked liked like he even meant to do it. PH decided to follow him. I think it was a wise Carl Ladd who said it was not a good idea to blindly follow a paddlers path through the rocks. This warning should be double heeded when it comes to following BH.
PH caught a wave and started out in excellent form. Then the back of his kayak got lifted a bit too high and he breached a bit too far. He gave his roll several good tries, but eventually popped out of the cockpit.
CC told me to do a toggle rescue, but I had no clue what she was talking about. Instead, I hooked my tow line up to PH's kayak and towed the kayak, with PH, off the rocks. While I held them off the rocks, BH put PH (no relation) back into his kayak. The only real issue was getting the tow line moved from PH's bow onto BH's bow. It's best to have the rescuer's kayak under tow during a rescue. I'm not sure what the issue was because holding a rescue on a tow line in surf is hard work.
After we got everything sorted out, we continued on our way. CC explained a toggle rescue to me and it sounded like a much better option than the tow rescue. In a toggle rescue the first kayaker into the rescue has the victim wrap their legs around the rescue kayak while still holding onto their kayak. The rescuer would then paddle the victim and their kayak out of danger. It sounds faster than deploying a tow line, would allow the rescuer to have better view of the victim, and would get the victim out of the water a bit.
After the work of towing, I was famished and decided that we would eat at the Castle Hill Coast Guard station. I was willing to gamble that the fog was not going to materialize. The wind was going to pick up and dissipate any fog.
Like a fool, I decided that the high docks at the Coast Guard station would make a perfect place to practice getting out my kayak onto the docks at the Barking Crab. I nearly face planted on the dock a few times, nearly back flopped into the water several times, and nearly flipped myself under the kayak several times before managing to wiggle myself onto the dock.
Naturally, it started to mist and get grayer as we sat down for lunch under the trees. However, just over the hill the sky was clearing and the winds were building. Before we finished eating and preparing to leave, the sky was a clear, sunny blue.
Instead of learning from my fumbling effort to get out of the Q-Boat using the dock, I decided I could enter the cockpit from the high dock. I somehow managed to slither into the cockpit without falling face first into the oily water or losing the kayak. It wasn't pretty though.
From the Castle Hill Coast Guard station, we crossed over to Jamestown. Instead of heading straight back into Fort Wetherill, we decided to check out the dumplings. The current was supposed to be at max, nobody was really ready to call it a day, and the winds would blow us towards Fort Wetherill from the dumplings. We also figured that since the currents were not forecasted to be strong and the wind was blowing the same direction as the tides, there would be nothing happening at the dumplings.
We were wrong. The dumplings had plenty of action. The current was creating a lot of small waves and clearly defined eddies. Without really thinking about what we were doing, all of us headed into the melee. Some of us, I'm sure, were careful to keep an eye out for our fellow paddlers. There were plenty of times, however, when one of us was too far away from any support to be easily rescued. It would have been safer if we had communicated a plan before heading into the rough water. That way we could each have had an opportunity to push the envelope or try some skills outside of the comfort zone.
After we had our fill, we headed back into Fort Wetherill. It was a good paddle and gave me a much needed opportunity to burn off some of the cruft that builds up when I don't get on the water. It also provided me a number of new things to ponder. Kayaking is as much a mental thing as it is a physical thing.

Back to Reality

After our excellent Alaska adventure, H and I were ready to paddle our own kayaks on our own turf. Narragansett Bay may not have the pristine grandeur of Glacier Bay, but it does offer plenty: varying and challenging conditions, access to good food, and most importantly the chance to paddle with good friends.
H spent the week fretting about the trip. She was uncomfortable with the "bring helmets" declaration on the trip description. She also was not keen on paddling around Brenton Point because she has not really been in challenging conditions yet this season. Despite the time of the year, life conspired to keep her off the water.
So, we decided that while we really wanted to hang out with the gang, it would be best if we did a different paddle. The plan was to paddle out of Wickford harbor so we would avoid any peer pressure to go on the RIC/KA trip.
On the way, we heard from the Bs. They were planning on launching from Ft. Wetherill, the RIC/KA trip's launch, but well after the RIC/KA trip left. It was a stroke of brilliance. We'd avoid peer pressure and get to hang out with the gang!! It also meant conditions that could offer a bit of thrill.
Getting back in the Q-Boat and wielding my new mighty stick was pure joy. I nearly capsized a few times while making ridiculous turns, but it was worth it just to be able to edge the kayak. I recovered quickly enough and was psyched to get out on the open water. I think we all shared similar experiences with reclaiming our rides.
We started off towards the Dumplings. The tides were such that there would be very little happening at the Dumplings, but the chance to paddle a little more distance made the trip worth it. We checked out the Clingstone House that sits on a dumpling. It looked like someone is fixing it up. I can remember when it looked like the condemned frat house I lived in at WPI.
From the Dumplings, we turned around and paddled along the coast to Mackerel Cove. It was a pleasant paddle. PB and I stayed close to the shore and found rocks to play in while the girls stayed a little further off the coast. I thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity readjust to the Q-Boat's lively feel.
We lunched just to the right of the public beach in Mackerel Cove. We were very careful to avoid the swimming area and any private land. The only thing I don't like about the eastern coast of Jamestown is the limited landing spots.
From lunch we continued down the coast towards Beavertail. The plan was to turn back well before we got to Beavertail and we did a good job sticking to the plan. We turned back towards Ft. Wetherill about half way between lunch and Beavertail.
To get back to the launch we decided to make a bee line. It was getting late and we didn't want to miss the RIC/KA crew. The crossing was fun. There was just enough swell and wind to keep us on our toes.
We kept checking the Newport coast hoping to catch a glimpse of the RIC/KA crew as they made their way home. We thought we spotted them and tracked them as they passed Castle Hill. Given their position we figured we easily beat them to the cars.
When we paddled into Ft. Wetherill we were greeted by the RIC/KA crew!! They were packed up and waiting for us... That didn't stop me from my post paddle rolling ritual. A roll is a precious thing and must be practiced...
Once we got our kayaks and gear stowed, we headed into town for dinner. PB passed around his Alaska photos - excellent!! We then grabbed some ice cream and listened to some music down near the water before heading back to the work week.
It is good thing that we have a hobby and friends to renew our spirits before each week.

Brenton Point Break Away

After two weeks without kayaking, Saturday's paddle whetted my appetite for some serious conditions. Since it was looking like trouble was bound to break out, H wisely decided to stay home and made me promise not to get too hurt. Further increasing the probability of trouble, the weather was full of wind and rain and I woke up in a particularly ornery mood.
I showed up for the 10am launch just before 9am hoping to get a good parking spot and a nap. Both goals were foiled. The parking lot was full of cars from the divers who frequent Ft. Wetherill and a few paddlers had not checked to message board to see that the paddle had been postponed until 10am. It was probably for the best since I still had trouble getting ready on time....
One of the early birds was Jerry B., who had his new Night Heron. She is a beautiful looking kayak. Jerry's modesty aside, he did a wonderful job crafting her. The angled pattern on the hull and the shine of the hull speak to the patience and care that went into the work.
With amazing speed, the group of paddlers swelled to seventeen!! The less than auspicious weather was not dampening anyone's spirits. In fact, there were a few people who came looking for some rough water paddling.
Joe, who was substituting for Frank M., decided that conditions called for a safer plan. He, despite offering up rough water options, intended to take the group along the shore by Fort Adams where there would be plenty of protection. Given the size and composition of the group, his plan was definitely the correct one, if not the most popular one.
To mollify us danger seekers, or perhaps hoping to scare us straight, Joe lead the group out of the Ft. Wetherill cove and crossed to Castle Hill Light. With some cajoling, Joe kept the group in a tight formation across the channel. Once at Castle Hill, he stopped the group so people could get a look at the conditions in the outer bay. Since most of the group knew the plan they stayed close to the shore waiting to paddle towards Fort Adams.
Spotting the danger lust in my eyes, Joe told me that I could, if I wanted, form a break away group. Unfortunately, the only people who had ventured out to take a look was a paddler I didn't know, Matt, and Eli. I decided that, given my options, it was wisest to stick with the group and headed back.
While I was making my way back to the group, Tim M. was making his way towards the point. He wanted to take a peak at the conditions just beyond the point, so I turned tail and headed out with him. The original plan was just to take a peak and then return. Then we noticed that Eli and Matt were tagging along and Paul B. was rapidly catching up.
Since we now had a group, and Joe had given me permission to form a breakaway group, we headed off to Brenton Point to see what trouble could be had. Tim and I really wanted to see what our new kayaks were like in bigger conditions. Matt, it turned out, also had a new kayak, a full sized Nordkapp, that he wanted to feel out. Paul and Eli were just out for some fun.
We paddled about 3/4 of the way to the point battling some pretty heavy winds and chop. Then we moved a little further off shore to really get into the swells and turned back towards Castle Hill to catch the following seas. Despite looking like he was riding a rabid horse with the shakes, Tim handled his new kayak, which he has dubbed "the devil boat", with aplomb. We all caught several good rides on the generous swell.
On our way back towards Castle Hill we spotted another group of paddlers heading out for trouble. Ken, Becca, and Carole had left the main group once they realized others had also wandered away. After dressing us down for not telling the main group we were leaving and not asking them to join in our adventures, they joined us and we headed back towards Breton Point.
As Becca pointed out, it was hardly fair of us to hog all the good conditions for ourselves. It's not like there are a ton of opportunities for RI paddlers to enjoy some rough stuff.
As we wended our way back to Brenton Point, we took turns dodging rocks. The game of choice was to back the kayaks into a rock formation, try to touch the tail to the rock, and hang out for as long as possible. We also found just about every navigable slot along the shore to dart through. It was great boat handling practice.
Once back at Brenton Point, we found some real fun. Along the break water that juts out from the point, the water was really rough. The swells piled into each other and the reflection off of the wall created some clapotis. It was exactly the kind of conditions a smart mariner avoids and a kayaker seeks out.
I dashed in and the waves pretty much submerged the Q-Boat. I'd gotten used to its stearn having water over it during the course of the morning. Any wave over six inches covers it. The Q-Boat's bow, which is like a gigantic bubble, had been pretty dry until I tested my luck. Luckily for me, the Q-Boat is, like its little sister the Anas Acuta, as stable as a six legged table that is bolted to a two ton piece of granite. I dashed out just as quick.
Tim M. had a different idea. He was feeling pretty good about his handling of the devil boat and decided now was the time to really push it. He paddled up along the wall, right into the worst of the clapotis, and decided to hang out...
From the Tim's mouth:

Probably not the best place to push it, but I felt I was getting a feel for the boat. The confluence of two wave sets with a small resulting area of clapotis was too much to resist. Once I got in there, I got knocked down by a good sized wave combination. I then rolled up and went right back down again a couple of times in the following chaos. I then hung-out and sculled for support to gain air. That's when Eli got there and asked me if I wanted a bow. I replied yes and told him to bring the bow in, and then dropped back into the water to protect myself and await the bow. That's when another big wave hit. I didn't think Eli's bow bow would be forthcoming. I also figured that the rocks had to be getting closer and that things were getting more dangerous. That's when I decided to bail.

The big wave had indeed knocked Eli out of position, and surfed me right into position. I grabbed Tim's bow and asked for someone to tow us out from the rocks while we put Tim back into his kayak. It was a little dodgy for a second or two. I had to lean out a bit too far to really get a hold of Tim's kayak and almost went over. The waves were not calming down. Tim lost his paddle. Eli, while retrieving Tim's paddle, nearly went over.
Ken, thankfully, made quick work of towing Tim and I out of the soup and things were all good. Tim got his kayak pumped out, I got my kayak, which had filled up while supporting Tim's kayak, pumped out. Paddles found their owners. Towlines were stowed.
Once everyone was situated, we turned towards home. Or...at least Castle Hill for lunch. Along the way we continued to enjoy the conditions.
Coming around the point at Castle Hill we had another accident. This time we all stayed in our kayaks, but we needed to rethink our plan. Matt, who is used to paddling a sporty little Anas Acuta, not a SUVish Nordkapp, pushed himself a little too hard. He pulled a big muscle in his side and was in a fair amount of distress.
So, we paddled, slowly, back to Ft. Wetherill and the cars. We made sure Matt got his gear back up to the parking lot and properly stored and sat down for lunch on the rocks. It was not a fun pit stop. There was no hiding from the damp, bitting wind and none of us were really well dressed for the conditions. Things were so bad that Becca and Ken packed up and headed home.
The few, tough, indomitable, paddlers left--Tim(against his better judgement), Paul, Eli, Carole, and myself--headed over to the Dumplings to see if we could get into more trouble. We figured the current would be running at a good clip and we were not disappointed.
Along the way out we ran back into the main group. Joe chastened us about not being clear about our intentions. Apparently, the group had waited to see if we were coming back. Joe had also paddled out to make sure we okay. I felt bad about the confusion and that we had slowed the group down a bit.
Typically, the members of the break away group work pretty hard at being good group members and ensuring that everyone has a good time. Sometimes, however, you just need to go your own way. In the end, despite, the confusion, our splitting off was for the best. The members of the main group had a nice paddle and the crazy people got to play.

Old Friends, New Boats, and a Fire

After getting home from a seven hour road trip at 11:30 the previous evening, H and I woke at the crack of dawn to drive to Jamestown for a paddle. The kayaks were still on the car from our vacation and all of the gear was still in the egg's hatch, so we didn't have to pack anything up. In fact it was a great excuse to delay unpacking, and thus extending our vacation. The other incentive was that the trip was being led by Bill Hahn, whom we hadn't seen in ages. Oh and of course we were going to get to see Tim Motte's shiny new Nordkapp LV.
We skidded into the Ft. Wetherill parking lot with 30 minutes to get ready for a 10am launch and saw Mike K., so we figured we had plenty of time to get ready. H managed to find the time to show off the new ring and get herself ready to go in plenty of time. I, however, duly earned the the title of "King Tardy". Before I could truly appreciate Tim's new kayak, I needed reassurance that the little gel coat crack I had been obsessing about for most of the week was not a fatal flaw in the structure of my kayak. Then, after Tim inspected the crack and allayed my fears, I had to examine and congratulate Tim on the purchase of his fine new ride. There was also congratulations to acknowledge. I was also distracted by the appearance of Milo and Jonathan H. Needless to say, I was the last one on the water. Despite Bill Hahn's conviction that I would beat Mike K. onto the water, I was last by a long shot.
Once on the water, the brain sludge that slowed my pre-paddle preparations melted away and I was able to focus on the business at hand. Bill's plan was to paddle against the current up to Gould Island, paddle around the island, and lunch at the beach on the southern tip. After lunch, we would paddle back. It was a relaxed plan for a relaxed day on the water.
I appreciated the laid back pace. It gave me a chance to catch up with people. Despite more than a year's absence, Milo and Jonathan had hardly changed. Jonathan wielded his Tooksok to drive his trusty Slipstream with characteristic speed. His characteristic acerbic wit was still in full force. Milo also looked great in his kayak. It was most excellent to see them again and I hope that they come out and play again soon.
At the northern end of Gould Island the current was ripping past the concrete abutments with deceptive force. Naturally, this meant that Tim, Paul B., and I had to play around. Tim managed to maneuver his new kayak through the current with ease. Despite his concerns that he may be too big for the Nordkapp LV, he looked excellent--even when he accidentally cut me off while I was trying to escape the current that was trying to crush me against a concrete abutment. Of course, I should know better than to be so close to immovable structures that can wreck my kayak, or myself.
Lunch offered more openings for catching up and humor. H offered up a bag of congealed chocolate, fruits, and nuts as a healthy opportunity. Before our vacation, this mass had been a delicious batch of gorp and, despite its unsavory appearance, it still tasted yummy. Bill H., in a bid to win votes for best trip leader, supplied (store baked) cookies. I'm pretty sure the cookies scored Bill the vote of most of the paddlers.
There was also a comedy sketch about Peter H. trying to sit on people's laps. I was not a direct witness, thankfully, but rumor has it Tim Motte was offered ice cream for his refusal... I'm not sure I want the details, but for the curious I'm sure there is a story...
On the return trip we stopped off at Jamestown center for ice cream. While, most of the crew enjoyed a cool, creamy treat, Tim and I enjoyed some mutual kayak appreciation. We switched kayaks and gave each other's new rides a quick spin. Tim's Nordkapp LV is everything the Sea Kayaker review said. It's cockpit offered plenty of room; it was actually more spacious than the Q-Boat's cockpit. The Nordkapp LV paddled in a straight line smoothly and got up to speed with ease. When it came time to turn, she responded quickly with a bit of edging. Getting the boat on edge is easy although it is a bit nerve wracking at first. On edge, the Nordkapp LV had good secondary stability, but I felt like I had to be extra careful about keeping my center of gravity over the hull. For a person my size (5'9" 195lbs), she doesn't feel like she has enough volume to counter balance a bad lean. After paddling, the Q-Boat, with its hard chines, it was a touch unsettling, but nothing that couldn't be overcome in a few minutes.
The post-paddle festivities were held at Carole's abode. She set out a lavish spread of chips, drinks, and pizza. With it's pastoral setting, Carole's house was the perfect place to wrap up a lovely day on the water. Her deck looks out over a pond and is surrounded by woods. It encouraged us to relax and offered a forum to get to enjoy our non-kayaking personas.
The setting did not, however, stop Peter H. from making lascivious jokes at the drop of a hat or the conversations turning to politics. Fortunately, a fire, marshmallows, chocolate, wine, and graham crackers make everything OK.

Paddling to Prudence

I was a little apprehensive about today's paddle as I'd never launched from Head's Beach, had never been to Prudence Island, had lost my chart of the Bay, and I was subbing as coordinator. To make matters worse the coordinator for the level 2 paddle, Peter H., was also a substitute. Fortunately, Peter was much better prepared than I was and Ray B. showed up and graciously took the level 3 reigns from my hands.
In addition to doing a completely new paddle, I was taking the maiden voyage in my new Q-Boat. The Q-Boat, its actual name is a barely pronounceable Greenlandic word that was probably invented in an English pub, is billed as a high volume Anas Acuta. I'm not certain that I would call it that, but it does have many characteristics of the Anas Acuta and is big enough for me to sit in comfortably without sinking. The Q-Boat's chines are hard, it's front-end is a big bubble, it's tail is long, and it's ends are pointy. Michael Brokenshire said it looks like an arrow.
Also sporting new rides for the paddle were Mike K. and a new paddler, Bethany. Mike's new ride is a shiny red Eddyline Flacon that he hopes will give him some added speed on calm water paddles. Bethany's new kayak is a red over white Nordkap LV. Both boats got rave reviews at the end of the day. Mike was actually in the middle of the pack for most of the day!!
At a little after 10am 25 kayaks set out from Head's Beach to paddle to Prudence Island. There were a couple of new people, several people I had not seen in a while, and a lot of the regular crew. The plan was to paddle along Jamestown, cross over to Prudence, and take a quick break at the beach. From the break point, the level 3 paddlers were going to head up to the local store for goodies. The estimated mileage was about 6 for the level 2 trip and 15 for the level 3 trip.
For most of the paddle I was concentrating on getting a feel for the new kayak so I didn't get to talk to as many people as I would have liked. I also didn't get quite as nice a view of Jamestown as I would have liked. However, the Q-Boat made up for those lapses.
Paddling the Q-Boat is a dream. At 18' long, she has plenty of speed, however, due to the rocker in the tail, she is also plenty maneuverable. It doesn't take much to make her spin around on a bow rudder. Being hard chined, she is also amazingly easy to get and hold on edge. The hard chines make her feel a little unsettled when the water gets bumpy, but that is largely due to my unfamiliarity with how it feels. The water slaps the chines and can make the hull rock a touch. Based on her stability on edge, however, my guess is that in rough water she has plenty of stability.
After a pleasant stop at the beach on Prudence where we feasted on H's oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and Lori Bomes' delectable cookies, the level three group headed off to the store. By this point, I was settled into the new kayak and took the time to look at the sights. Prudence was pretty. I liked the little light house and the store/post office was pleasantly run down.
By the time we hit the store, H and I had used up a good bit of our water supplies due to the heat. It wasn't so hot that it felt oppressive, but you could tell it was warm. The cold beverage and ice cream from the store were a nice treat.
The paddle back to Jamestown seemed much longer than the paddle out. This was due to the fact that we didn't stop for a break on the return trip. This was also due to the fact that it was a long trip and people were getting tired. At first I thought it may have just been the heat, but come to find out the trip was 18 miles long and not the advertised 15. Ray had no sympathy. As he said after dinner: "It's the end of August. You guys should be in shape to do that kind of distance no sweat."
The paddle back afforded us a view of a gigantic ship as it took the channel between Jamestown and Prudence to the East Passage. I was prepared for the monster to throw a huge, surfable wake, but it only caused a few paltry waves. Still, it was impressive.
The return trip also offered me several opportunities to practice my combat roll. One time I tried to spin the kayak around on itself and edged over a tad too far. The other time I was paddling backwards and caught a wave just wrong. Fortunately the Q-Boat rolls with hardly a thought. The trickiest thing is waiting for the kayak to settle before starting the roll.
The post paddle pig out was held at the Jamestown Portuguese Club. The wait staff was harried, but pleasant. The portions were big and the prices were reasonable. Oh and the food was mostly excellent. The cod only got an OK rating. Dinner conversation seemed to hover around things that can kill you... Great whites hunting seals off of Monomoy... Man-O-War on RI beaches... just about anything in Australia. Not sure what that says about us...
I want to give kudos to Lori's friend Marianne. She did the level three trip and was at the head of the pack for the whole time!! I'd also like to thank Ray B. for doing such a great job on short notice.