Return of the Pumpkin

 On Friday Dr. Carl called to say the Pumpkin was ready for pick-up. After a little yip for joy, I drove down and retrieved her. I could hardly see the extensive repairs. The bow was completely new and there were several patches along the sides. The only visible signs were some missing decals and subtle differences in color were the fiberglass was replaced.

Carl's timing could not have been better because Tim G. was running one of his coach training sessions out to the reefs in Stonington on Sunday. Tide races are the Aries natural habitat.

Tim planned out a day where were going to hit just two of the races. The weather wasn’t looking good for playing at Wiccopisett. Instead we planned on heading straight out to race between Wiccopisett and Sugar Reef.

The first reef had erratic, tight wave sets. The conditions made trying to predict the rides difficult, but fun. Unlike the Capella, the Aries doesn’t take much of a wave to get its surf on, so catching waves was not an issue. Staying on the waves was a little more problematic. The Capella’s straight hull and defined keel minimized the breaching effects of the waves. The Ares is as straight as a banana and has a flat hull designed to skip across the top of the water; any force that pushes on it will initiate a turn. If I didn’t get on a wave in the sweet spot, and stay there, the stern would get pushed around. Waves popping up at the bow pushed the bow around. The Ares’ hull makes it very maneuverable, which is its best and worst feature. I could easily make corrections using some edging and well placed strokes, but I was constantly making them. More times than I’d like to admit, I was over correcting.

Don’t get me wrong, I was having a blast and learning a lot. I was also working pretty hard. Truth be told, I prefer the Ares’ behavior in the races over the Capella’s. The Capella is very balanced and well behaved, but it is also very boring. The Ares’s is unruly, but more capable and way more fun. The trick with the Ares was finding the right set of strokes to tame it.

Sugar Reef presented a very different look. It had predictable, well spaced wave sets. I could find a wave and pretty much ride the train the whole way out if I could keep the Ares straight… I got more consistent rides with much less work. In the more predictable wave sets, forward strokes that put force on the bow worked best. They provided just enough push to keep moving into the next wave, kept my body position forward, and pushed the bow around just enough to keep in line with the waves.

After play time, we lunched at Napatree and discussed what we had learned. For me, it was all about readjusting to the Ares’ more playful hull and refining the skills we have been working on each time we go out to the reefs. I worked on refining my stern draw and learning when it is most effective. I played with using body position to trim the Ares’ speed profile and edging for turns.

On the way home everyone tried their luck catching waves at the molars. I was very conservative to avoid any chance of damaging the hull, so I didn’t get much. However, because the Ares takes so little action to surf, I did manage to catch a small ride.

This was a great day to get back in the Ares. Carl did great work patching her up and getting her sea worthy. Tim provided a great venue to really enjoy paddling her and shaking out the cobwebs.

The Reefs, The Reefs Are Calling

The paddle for the weekend was planned to be a rough water outing in the reefs off of Stonington, so I was really hoping that the Aries was ready to go. She is built for playing in the races. Sadly, Dr. Carl still has some work to do to get her sea worthy.

The Capella is no slouch in the fun stuff, but tidal play is not her raison. Also, I just miss paddling the Aries.

When Tim asked what we were hoping to learn out on the reefs, I knew one of the things was going to be adjusting to a different kayak. That was in addition to learning a better feel for catching waves, learning to control the kayak while surfing, and linking rides together.

The predicted conditions were perfect for learning. The current was just fast enough with the right amount of wind to kick up some waves. However, it was not strong enough to make things dangerous. We could get up to the edge without worrying about going too far. Removing some of the worry males space for reflection and observation in the moment.

We started out at Wiccopisett. The race there was a well formed field of waves. It provided a great warm up spot. I spent some time remembering how to time the waves to the motions of the kayak. When the bow starts going up, get ready to paddle hard; as the bow starts coming down, paddle hard; as the stern lifts, surf. Once on the waves, I started playing with maneuvering. Unlike the Aries, the Capella wants to go straight which is a blessing and a curse. The Capella is less likely to breach, but it is also harder to turn and correct. I found that if I kept my speed up, I could maneuver with little sweep turns and a little edging. If I lost speed, or needed to do serious turning, I needed to resort to rudders, stern draws, and serious edging. For the most part I edged into the turns and used my foot to push the bow where I wanted it to go. The only time I edged opposite the turn and used my knee to pull the bow around was when I was turning into the waves to get from the front of the race to back of the race.

After first lunch on Wiccopisett, we made our way north along the reef line heading towards Watch Hill.

The next play spot had more action. The waves were bigger and less orderly. Tim suggested playing with how I was edging, I had some success with varying how I edged the kayak. Sometimes I would edge away from the turn and try to yank the bow around other times I would edge into the turn. The edging away from the turn and yanking seemed to work best when the stern was really stuck. It felt a little dodgy, but I never went over. I gave up trying to string rides together because the field was too messy and I was more focused on my edging.

Our final play spot was Sugar Reef. The wave here were more organized, but closer together. This meant that even if I caught a wave perfectly, there was a good chance the one behind it would grab my stern. I mostly worked on using forward strokes to maneuver and keep up speed. This help me trim the kayak so the stern was up and less likely to get caught. It also made it easier to move from one wave to the next. Reading the field was much easier because the waves set up relatively parallel. You basically used the one you were on to ride into the one in front of you. It was a fun time.

We had second lunch at Napatree point and reviewed the day.

Some of the group tried to surf the molars on the way home. I opted out. The wave was too small and too unpredictable for the energy.

The rest of the rest of the of the return paddle was a nice wind down.

Autum Gales

 I love Greg Paquin's annual Autumn Gales event despite the fact that I usually only attend one of the three days. The coaching is always excellent and the conditions are always a little challenging.

Unfortunately COVID kept the UK coaches that usually attend in the UK, but Greg has plenty of local, or at least US-based, coaching talent available and as expected my one day was full of adventure and learning. I heard the Saturday and Sunday sessions were even more fun. One of these years, I will apply for a multiway hall pass from the family....

After the morning briefing, my choice of groups was either to off with Greg and do rough water rescue practice or to go off with some new coaches and work on reading conditions and other open water comfort skills. Greg suggested that working with new coaches was always a good idea, so I went off with them.

The day looked iffy for any really big conditions in the areas we were headed. There was plenty of wind and plenty of current around; it just all happened to be going the same way. That did make it a perfect day for practicing reading conditions. We talked about current direction and wind direction and how they interact with each other to create waves. We talked about how they interact with our kayaks and which would most likely impact our ability to navigate.

There was a wave break off the nearby point that was caused by some submerged rocks. We paddled over to check out the action. The waves were close to shore and mostly pushing into a rocky area. There was one wave that was rideable...if you could catch it.

The wave was extremely localized and had to caught at just the right spot to get a good, safe ride. The problem was that the gap between waves was not insignificant and there were a lot of factors pushing a kayak out of position. A few people managed to catch nice rides, but I was not one of them. I would set up in what I thought was a good position, but by the time the wave came I was out of the slot. The wind and current was pushing off shore making it hard to hold in the sweet spot.

After a frustrating stay at the wave, we grabbed some lunch at a protected bit of sand. The spot was nice because it offered a bit of a wind break to keep us warm. It was also positioned nicely so that the landing was nice and smooth. The wave action was minimal.

During lunch we talked a little about wave periods because the plan for after lunch was to head around the point and try to practice landing in dumping surf. Figuring out wave periods is a skill that escapes me - it could be that I just suck at counting. I didn't feel too bad because there seemed to be a lot of variability in the periods being offered up... But the general consensus was that the period was long enough to make a surf landing in dumping waves within safe margins.

After lunch the wind and tides had changed so that a nice surf break set up running mostly parallel to the beach. The waves were not huge, but they were well formed and predictable; perfect for some fun. Because they were running along the shore and not into the shore, you could catch some long runs. It was a great way to kill 30 minutes before heading around the point to practice smashing into the sand...

On the northern side of Napatree, the waves were going into shore and dumpy. We had a brief chat about how to land in dumpy surf; use the back of a wave, get out quickly, don't get stuck between your kayak and the beach.

The landing part was easy. The waves were well spaced out and not too big. I caught I nice ride most of the way in, backed off just in time, and let the back of the following wave drop me gently on the sand.

The launching part was less easy. I've never really been great at surf launching... My turtle motion is not fast enough, I tend to start too far up the beach, or too close to the surf. I almost always get turned around at least once and today was no different. I did get off the beach in one piece, and that is what counts....

After surf landings we headed over to a nun to see what the current and wind were doing. Looking at the nun made things look surprisingly dynamic. You could definitely see the current moving against the sides and see how things were pushing us around.

The coaches had us do an exercise where we paddled up to the nun and then turn around it. It was a little unclear which way were supposed to circle the nun, so I did it a couple of ways in each direction. It was also a little unclear what the point of the exercise was - not that I didn't enjoy playing dodge the nun in traffic. The Aries is made for just that sort of thing. It spins around big metal obstacles with glee; a little sweep stroke here, a bow rudder there, and a butt scootch will get the Aries to do a 360 just about every time.

The point of the exercise was to see how a kayak's handling is effected by wind and current and which one was the biggest factor in this situation. Because I can be clueless and paddle a magic spinning kayak, I didn't notice any big effect from either the wind or the current. Fortunately others did and the coaches got to explain what was going on and strategies for handling it. The biggest factor was the wind and typically what happens when paddling and turning into the wind is that your bow gets pinned in the water and the stern gets pushed around. The trick is to work the back of the kayak to unstick it and get it to move around. I took the tip and put it in my back pocket for when I am trying to go straight.....

Then we paddled back over to the sea wall where we practiced some towing in moving water. My partner feigned being unable to stay upright, so my option was a contact tow across current and fighting wind: not the easiest choice. I managed to get back behind the wall and into calmer waters with some work. There was a lot of correcting going on and it wasn't fast. For the second round, I got to be towed but now it was a race. My partner used a short tow which was an ideal choice until we got tangled up in another groups long tow... Towing in a crowd is never a great idea.

After the towing we played around for a bit longer doing nothing in particular. I tried some rolling and working the currents coming around the breakwater.

The paddle back was a good chance to take the tip about working the stern to practice. The wind was at enough of an angle that the Aries, which never really goes straight, was getting weather cocked something fierce. I tried using the skeg to straighten her out, but never could get the right adjustment and gave up. What did end up doing the trick was throwing a little sweep into the end of a few paddle strokes. The extra push on the back of the stroke was just enough to correct for the wind.

Unlike my last few Gales, this one lacked epic (borderline unsafe) conditions. But it did offer plenty of opportunity to work skills in challenging conditions with great coaches.

Maybe next year, I'll put in for a weekend pass and attend more than one day....

Falling Down the Water

 Early in the week the announcement went out that the scheduled paddles for the weekend were cancelled. My heart sank. I was really looking forward to playing on reefs in Stonington.

Then, like a paddling angel, Tim G. resurrected the Sunday reef play session!!

Tim is a great paddle coordinator. Not only is he an exceptionally good paddler, he is also always over prepared, chill, and keeps the whole group's needs in the forefront. You know it will be a fun and safe day on the water.

The plan was to paddle out to Sugar Reef and work our way down to Watch Hill for pit stop. Then we would head home. Tim made sure we all knew that this trip was different from going over to Wicopesset and playing. Sugar reef does not offer any places to get off the water and very few eddies for resting.

We were going to be on the water for a long time before we got to a beach for a proper rest and food break. Snacks is the perfect use for the deck hatch. I loaded it up with fruit chew packs and a nutritious bar.

We headed straight out to the spire and found a nice play area. There was plenty to surf and the wave field was well organized.

Early on I had some issues with directional control. My bow kept peeling out down the wave.

I tried using the standard stern rudder to keep on course, but that rarely worked out. Some times it just failed completely and I just kept speeding along until I was parallel to the wave. Other times it just ate enough speed to knock me off the wave and left me like a sitting duck waiting to be taken out by the next wave in the train.

I tried using sweep strokes to push the bow back on track and had more luck with them. Sometimes, it took an extended paddle to get enough force. That still wasn't a sure thing though.

I tried using a stern draw to pull the back of the kayak into line which also worked on occasion.

What really seemed to work was combining the stern draw with a sweep stroke and some edging.

The truth is that the Aries biggest strength is also its biggest weakness. It is easy to turn....

While at the Spire I had a near run-in with another kayak. As I was surfing down a wave, unable to straighten out I noticed another paddler setting up to ride straight down the same wave. I know the right thing to do is for the paddler at the bottom of the wave to flip over... but the other paddler was way more experienced than I am and me flipping over could easily have turned into a rescue situation... After a brief hesitation, I flipped over and prayed that the other kayak would not ram into me and that I would be able to roll up before getting washed into the Spire...

Once under, I waited a bit to let things sort themselves out, set up, and popped back up ready to surf! It was my first "emergency" roll in a very long time.

After a while at the Spire we moved further down the reefs towards Watch Hill.

I was initially under the impression that we were going to head in towards the beach. However, everyone else seemed to be staying out on the waves. I was not about to argue about playing in the surf....

Eventually we stopped just below the lighthouse for a late lunch. I was very happy that I had stuffed the mini-hatch with quick snacks, so I wasn't starving...

After lunch, we headed back to the put in but kept an eye open for possible play spots.

We found some surf off a spit of land on the way back. The waves were hard to predict, but everyone got a few nice runs. On my last run I managed to lose my support and end up in the drink. I set up for a roll and got smacked back down by an incoming wave. Apparently there is a wrong side to roll up on in surf.... I set up on the other side and popped back up. Two emergency rolls in one day!!!

It was definitely time to call it quits.... The rest of the paddle back was quiet and uneventful.

I am really grateful for Tim taking the time to set up these reef paddles with a bunch of less skilled paddlers. They make a world a difference for my quality of life.

The Reefs and Paddling with Intention

 When the currents are right, the reefs off of Stonington offer one of the best playgrounds in the area. Despite some rain, today looked like it would be a promising day for fun and some learning.

Tim G. and Nick Shade volunteered to take a group of us out to the reefs and share some of their expertise.

Before setting out, we all talked about what we hoped to get out of the day. A common theme was accelerating onto the waves. It seems like such an easy thing to do: just dig deep and paddle fast. If only....

One the way out Nick asked me to do my best three strokes to get up to speed. I leaned a bit forward in the cockpit, stood the paddle up high, and speared the water. I got a nice little boost. Then Nick asked a bunch of pointed questions trying tease out what it was about the stroke that made it work. How was it different than a cruising stroke; where in the stroke was the power coming from; what could be done to optimize it? In the moment, the questions were a little frustrating because I didn't feel like I had good answers. With some time to reflect, I don't think having ready answers was the point; thinking about the stroke was the point and it was definitely helpful to get the brain engaged.

We stopped on Wiccopesett rock for a quick lunch to watch the race form up and talk about how to best experience it. Nick explained to us, in amazingly detailed, yet simple, terms what was happening with the water and how our kayaks behaved in relationship to the water.

What I took away from it was that it was all about controlled falling. When a kayak surfs a race it is falling down waves that are created by wind pushing against water falling in the other direction. The other thing I took away from the talk was that in a tide race, waves don't move because they are the result of features on the ocean floor. You need to see where the waves are and find the best path through to get a good ride.

When I got back on the water I tried to put the lessons into action.

I payed attention to how my power strokes felt and how to get the most out of them. For me, it is a lot like spearing the water by knees with the paddle face flat and transitioning to a more normal stroke as the blade passes by hip. It takes me more strokes to accelerate onto the waves with a stick then with a normal paddled - maybe three strokes instead of one. This just means I need to plan a little better and maybe wait for the wave behind the wave.

I also started watching where the waves were on the race and trying to "hop" from one to the next; use the wave I was on to fall into the next wave to link together long rides. It took a long time to figure out what how to string the rides together. The waves don't set up in a straight line and even if they did keeping the Aries surfing in a straight line takes work.

My bow seemed to be constantly getting pushed to the right (this could be a loading issue, the wind, the waves, or just bad technique). My first thing to do was get better control of the kayak on the wave. Tim had a nice tip for doing this; instead of hitting a hard stern rudder and trying to pry the bow in the right direction, he suggested using a seen rudder on the other side to arrest the bows movement and then using a forward stroke to correct direction. You loose less speed and keep more active control over the kayak. (I could be totally misremembering what Tim said, so ask him about this personally.) For me the takeaway was the "active" part. Instead of using ruder strokes that killed forward momentum, which with the stick was hard to regain, I needed to use more active control strokes that would keep my forward momentum as much as possible. More sweep turns, more edging. more using my feet to guide the kayak, and more maneuvering using strokes at the bow. In general, it seemed to work and I was better able get where I wanted to go.

The next trick was getting from wave to wave. As Nick pointed out, this involved looking not at the next wave, but three waves down the line. As I rode each wave through the field, I had to adjust my course to be in the right place to catch the next ride. Looking one wave at a time just didn't work for getting through the full race. It would get me maybe three rides, but then I'd be in the wrong place to keep going and need to paddle through the slop to the next position. Plotting a few waves out allowed me to make corrections on each wave so that I was much more likely to be in the right place at the right time for longer.

The forward planning was particularly important when starting from the very back of the races. The back edge of the races were always more chaotic than the front of the race. Nick explained the physics of why this happens, but I cannot remember it.

After some playing we headed in for quick bite to eat and decided that instead of heading all the way down the reefs to sugar reef, we would do a short play on the other side of Wiccopesett and head back.

We spent some more time surfing, and the post such session was just as fun. I really felt like I was starting to get the hang of things. It has been a long time since I've had a chance to really feel confident in my kayak while having so much fun.

I even got to do some "rough" water rescue practice. One member of the group got breached by a wave and I happened to be the closest paddler. At first I was a little nervous, but glided right in and took control of things. The swimmer was excellent as they knew how to handle themselves, which always makes a rescue easier. We got them back in the kayak without issue and get them back to Wiccopesett for a rest.

We spent a little longer surfing before regrouping and paddling back into the harbor.

It was a great day on the water. I learned a lot and had fun doing it - paddle with intention.

The Gales Claim a Mighty Stick

I love Greg Paquin's Autumn Gales event. He brings in some great coaches and provides a great forum for allowing paddlers to push themselves in conditions. I always try to do one day of three day event. (I love the kid dearly, but she makes it hard to spend three days paddling....)
Being in November, the weather is always interesting. Most years the winds are blowing or the rain is coming down. This year we had the remnants of a hurricane blowing in and I wasn't even sure there would be paddling on my day... Not that a little wind or rain was going to stop me from attending.
The morning planning session offered a few interesting options that were safely in my box and one crazy option that was on the edge of my box. Two groups were going to reasonably protected areas to work on skills with one of the two groups getting a little more exposure. A third group, that was all coaches and 5 star paddlers, was going in the belly of the beast for a nice long paddle. I did actually pause and talk to Greg before deciding to saddle up and ride out into the worst of it. I don't get many chances to really paddle. I have been taking (mostly reasonable) risks all summer in a vain attempt to prove to myself that I am not turning into some soft in the middle old guy (which I am). If I was going to get into trouble being surrounded by 5 star paddlers is a pretty safe to be.
We paddled SE out of the harbor to the far side of the inner sea wall. In the harbor the swell was a few feet high and making forward progress was tough. The seeds of doubt were beginning to creep in, but I kept them at bay. This was nothing I hadn't paddled in many times before - granted it usually wasn't in November when I needed a jacket to keep from getting cold....
When we got to the sea wall wave were breaking over the top of it. The only "safe" place was directly behind the wall. The space between the wall and the point was a surf zone with particularly nasty breakers near to the wall. Beyond the wall was giant swells that often became breakers. I was definitely questioning the sanity of my decision, but it was too late to turn back....
I paddled out beyond the wall, sure to stay out of the roughest of the surf near the wall to test out the conditions. It was big and scary, but not too bad. I worked on hold my position, doing some basic boat control stuff, and then caught a decent ride back inside the wall to a spot where it was easy to get out of the surf. There was one small moment where I saw myself breaking into pieces on some rocks, but I managed to steer the Aries out of danger.
Feeling a little more confident, I headed out for another round. I figured by lunch I might work my way up to trying the big stuff near the wall. I got out beyond the wall into some big swells, started to turn the Aries into position to catch a wave, and went to use a quick low brace to stabilize myself against a swell. Then SNAP. I was paddling with two sticks when I should have had just one... DON'T PANIC... TAKE A BREATH... ASSESS THE SITUATION... DETERMINE A COURSE OF ACTION.. The brace worked well enough to keep me upright and the larger piece of the stick was big enough to be useful for bracing and possibly enough to mange a surf ride inside the wall. If I went over it was unlikely that I would be able to execute a roll. I did not have enough leverage with the stick pieces to do any significant maneuvering in the wind and swells. A coach was within earshot. I shouted for help which was quick to arrive. We pulled out and assembled my spare Lendal. Then we stowed the remnants of the stick and separated since I now had a fully functional paddle. How was the coach supposed to know that the last time I had used this paddle in anything more serious than level two trip on a windless day was a fading memory or that when I last used it in a pool rolling session the results were hardly consistent....
DON'T PANIC... TAKE A BREATH... TAKE A STROKE... FEEL HOW THE PADDLE MOVES IN THE WATER... REMEMBER THAT KAYAKING IS ABOUT MORE THAN JUST THE PADDLE... THIS IS JUST A STICK OF A DIFFERENT SORT... I managed to get myself settled and the Aries under control. I paddled around in the big swells a bit, lined up for and then backed off a few surf waves. Then I just went for it and surfed into the safer zone inside the wall.
It took a while for me to work my way back up to venturing into the big zone again. I took some time inside the wall to reacquaint myself with my old friend the Lendal Kinetic Touring (which is IMHO the best Euro paddle ever designed). There were some smaller waves to catch inside the wall.
After some goading from the others in the group, I did make my way out past the wall again. It was hard to catch rides because the surf was not clean unless you were in tight to the sea wall and that was not where I was going. It was an excellent test of my skills. I didn't catch any spectacular waves or do any awesome rolls in monster swells. I managed to stay upright and in control of my kayak in big conditions with an unfamiliar paddle. It was enough.
The coaches were doing some spectacular stuff near the wall. They were catching big waves and taking monster runs. There was also plenty of rolling up when a surf run went bad. It was a sight to behold.
As always Greg offered just the right little pointers and words of encouragement. He noticed that I was not punching through the top of my stroke as much as I could. After he pointed it out and had me focus on it, I definitely had more power for punching through the swells without using much more energy. It probably gave me the edge I needed to make it through the day.
After lunch the conditions evened out. They were still big, but more predictable. We played in the surf a bit more. Then we headed out beyond the sea wall towards the western end. From there we crossed over to sandy island. It was interesting going. Behind the wall things were choppy and bouncy. The crossing to sandy island was mostly big following seas which required a lot of energy but provided a lot of nice long rides.
The paddle down sandy island and back to the put in was a slog. The back side of the island was shallow water and the wind was in our face the whole time. I couldn't get a good grip on the water and the wind had plenty of grip on the big lollipop paddle I was swinging. Once we turned and headed back into the harbor the wind was not so bad. It was a strong quartering wind, but the shore blunted a good bit of its force.
Back at the launch I had the usual conflicted feelings. I was pooped and ready to get out of the boat, but still reluctant to set foot on land and call it a day. Being back on shore always feels like a small loss; an ending of some small moments of joy and the return to the real world of work and the small everyday indignities. If I could just stay in the boat I could continue being the guy who had pushed the envelope of skill set and survived in the face of difficulty.
Of course, the loss is not real and I am still the guy who pushed through a tough challenge. The small indignities of life are all just challenges that must be faced and pushed through. It is just that on the water they feel bigger and more heroic.
So, the Gales lived up to its name and once again gave me a forum to push myself surrounded by excellent coaches. It also gives me a chance to upgrade my stick.

Autumn Gales

Greg Paquin has run the Autumn Gales for 10 years now and this is the second time I’ve gone. The main event is three days with plenty of opportunities to get top notch instruction in conditions. Greg gets world class coaches from both the local area and England.
Both of the times I’ve gotten to attend, I have only done a single day out of the three. I have also always managed to attend on days where the conditions are borderline crazy. Today the forecast called for 15-20knt winds with gusts to 30knts, rain, and big swells. There was also a chance of thundershowers. The wife thought I was a wee nuts. I was thinking it was perfect for some adventure.
After a quick briefing we headed out to the breakwater. It provided a nice place wher we duck out of the wind for chatting with the coaches and then head back out into the wind and swells to practice boat skills. I was with Greg and Pete Jones from the UK for coaches. They had us practicing turns into the wind. We practiced different strategies like using short quick strokes at the bow to pin it down and allow the wind to blow the stern around; using forward and reverse sweeps to pivot. We experimented with what paddle positions worked best to turn up wind and turn down wind. There was plenty of wind to practice with and three to four foot swells to make things more fun.
We also practiced surfing swells and paddling in following seas. Greg helped me figure out why I have so much trouble keeping the Aries from breaching in surf. One problem is that I always go straight for a stern rudder, which is not effective and because of how I turn in the boat to place the rudder, causes the Aries to turn even more. He suggested using sweep strokes instead.
He also noticed that I tended to lean forward when I catch a wave and that when I lean forward I arm paddle. Basically, instinct takes over and ruins my form. I have probably been doing it forever and never noticed; the Q-boat was far less maneuverable than the Aries. Greg’s expert coaching was a big bonus.
It was a hard day on the water. I was exhausted at the end of the day - in a great way. If I can only get out once in a while, it has to be worth it. This definitely was.

Rushing to the Reefs

On Friday, I called PB to see if he was up for a Saturday adventure. He was undecided, but leaning towards a bike ride. He would decide in the morning.

I went to sleep planning on driving myself to Stonington and hoping that PB would decide to paddle and pick me up on the way.

I got half my wish. I woke up in the morning and checked my e-mail. PB was going to paddle, but he wanted me to drive.

My sense of time is skewed towards optimistic, so I figured there was plenty of time: ten minutes to pack lunch and get dressed; ten minutes to put the kayak on the roof; thirty minutes to drive to PB’s house….

An hour and a half later, I managed to get to PB’s house. According to the Waze, we would arrive at the put-in just in time. Launch time 10am; ETA 9:58am.

We pulled in just as TG was about to give the pre-launch talk. Needless to say we rushed to get the kayaks unloaded and our kit together. The other paddlers graciously helped us out. Miraculously, we got all of our stuff together without forgetting anything critical. I had forgotten my croakies at home, but I knew that before getting to the launch.

The tides were not going to turn until after lunch. So the plan was to paddle east over to Napatree. From there we would cross over to Fishers Island by way of Wicapisett rock. After a leisurely lunch, we would see what the reef gods would offer up for fun. Finally we would drag ourselves home.

As we rounded the tip of Stonington and turning east towards Napatree, I decided to check my watch to see what our pace was. I discovered that getting my kit together didn’t go quite as smoothly as I initially thought. The watch was gone. I still had hopes that it might be in the day hatch or had fallen into the cockpit or I had put it in the clothing bag by accident.

We stopped for a check in and break on the backside of Napatree. I checked the hatches for the watch, it was nowhere to be found. I also decided to change the lenses in my sun glasses. It was overcast and the polarized lenses I was wearing were too dark. The orange tint lenses brightened things up a lot. They also prompted a number of comments about how I was dressing to match the Aries and turning into a big pumpkin.

The crossing from Napatree to Fishers was uneventful, but fun. There was some texture to the water. All in all the morning paddling was a nice warm up. People got the chance to chat and get some sea legs before tackling the tide race.

After lunch we drifted out to the race. The play area was well defined. Wicapisett rock created a calm pocket for resting at the head of the race. The outer edges were also easy to spot. We set up so that resting and the return path were along the outside of the race.

TG reminded us to make sure we kept our eyes out for each other while we were playing. While the conditions were not extreme, a swimmer would still get separated from their kayak quickly. The current would also make it difficult for us to get to a swimmer.

The race was not at full mayhem, but there was a wind opposing the current. There were standing waves to ride and I had a kayak built for wave riding.

I don’t know exactly how long we spent in the race. Time flies when you are having fun, and I was having a blast. The Aries is way more fun in a tide race than the Q-boat. It catches waves effortlessly and can be easily controlled on the ride. I paddled out into the race waited for a wave to pass under the kayak and then geared up. The kayak shoots forward, gliding down the wave face and into the next one. A few well times paddles, and the kayak keeps gliding along.

The best part of the race was the front. The waves were better formed, taller, and easier to predict. It was a perfect way to end each run through the race. Just when I thought the kayak was done running, I’d wait for one more more wave to pass under and hit it again. Whoosh!!

PB commented that this was the happiest he had seen me in a kayak. The Q-boat in a tide race could be fun, but it was a chore. The Aries was fun.

TG demonstrated excellent navigation and leadership skills on the return to the put-in. He assigned a lead kayak and set him on a bearing. At first glance, the bearing seemed way off. As we paddled along, the current dropped us into perfect position to hit the harbor. It was like magic.

Sadly my watch was not to be found at the put in. It was a costly day of fun, but it was definitely a day of fun.

3-Star Redux

Greg Paquin, owner of Kayak Waveology, ran a BCU 3-star training this weekend in Stonington, CT. I've known Greg for a number of years and think he is a great coach, so I was thrilled to have the opportunity to take the training with him. My only concern was that I'm in piss poor physical condition.
I knew PB was taking the course, so I decided I'd be able to tough it out. I need the time on the water to get ready for the symposium in a few weeks. Getting some coaching was an added bonus.
3-star training takes the basics learned in the 2-star training and begins focusing them on sea kayaking. Paddlers learn to use strokes in typical sea conditions and moderate wind. They also begin learning navigation, how to monitor sea and weather conditions, and basic group management. There is also a focus on more advanced rescue skills like towing and rough water rescues. There is less focus on technical perfection and more focus on managing yourself on the sea.
Greg started us off with a land based review of basic trip planning and navigation. We mapped out our course for the morning, reviewed the prevailing conditions, and learned a good deal about how the currents in and around Stonington work. The navigation work was a welcome refresher. I know the basics, but since I don't use them regularly, it can take me a bit before I dig the skills out of the basement. The current information was fascinating.
Once on the water we headed from Stonington to Napatree Point. On the way we did some basic skill drills, but mostly we just paddled.
At Napatree we spent sometime doing boat control work in the pylons of an old dock. We used all of the strokes to maneuver through the maze. I managed to ram a pylon by mistiming a bow rudder.
Greg also had us try maneuvering through pylons by paddling on one side of the kayak. This is one of those areas were a stick doesn't shine. Everyone had some trouble, but found that if they paddled on the leeward side of their kayak it would work. I just couldn't get enough purchase to make anything work. It could also just be that I simply didn't get the skill.
After the pylons, we headed around the point to find a lunch spot. Greg used the conditions at the point to talk about "silent leadership". The idea is that newer, or weaker, paddlers will always follow a stronger paddler. So in a situation where the group needs to avoid a danger spot, the leader will paddle at the front of the group on a path that will keep the group out of trouble. If it is a long route, the leader would do this in hops-paddle part way and wait, then paddle to another spot on the route and wait.
Before landing for lunch we played beach tag. You catch a wave to surf into the beach, but you do not land on the beach. Instead, just before beaching, you back off of the wave and reverse paddle back to the edge of the surf zone. It is hard work for a number of reasons. Timing the wave properly is tricky and backing through a wave is physically hard. The hardest part is resisting the urge to keep the ride going.
After lunch we worked on rescues. Initially we talked about different towing situations: contact tows, anchor tows, assisted tows, etc. It was a good review of stuff TM makes us practice all the time.
While we were reviewing the towing, we spotted a kayaker out of his kayak in some nearby rocks. I raced in to do the rescue figuring it would be pretty simple. What I discovered was that Greg had arranged this to be a scenario where the swimmer had a head injury. I had RC anchoring the rescue. Once I realized the swimmer was not going to be much help getting himself back into the kayak, I decided to go for the scoop rescue. All was going well until I couldn't get his kayak righted. I was out of position and didn't have the leverage. There was a paddler off to my side and I asked him to assist by having the swimmer rest on his bow to relieve some of the weight and help me right the kayak. I didn't know that the other kayak couldn't help because he was busy pulling off my back hatch. Eventually, I dumped the swimmer back in the water and talked him through climbing over the deck of his and my kayak so I could guide him into his cockpit. With the swimmer in his kayak I got RC to switch the tow so he could get us to shore.
As RC towed us to shore, I kept talking to the swimmer to monitor his condition. Then the swimmer flopped backwards and into the water. At this point I asked Greg, who was the nearest kayaker, to assist getting the swimmer out of the water. I was stuck in a tow trying to handle my waterlogged kayak and the swimmer's kayak. We got the swimmer out of the water and draped across the stern of the three kayaks before Greg called an end to the scenario.
Once freed from the tow, I started making my way, shakily, back to shore. I needed to empty out my hatch. Greg had a different plan. He had me use the stern of his kayak as leverage to essentially flip my kayak over while he lifted the stern out of the water. Once the hatch was mostly empty, we resealed it and started back to Stonington.
Along the way we practiced self-rescues and Eskimo rescues. It was fun and my roll held up well. The only problem was that my dry suit leaks and I got cold quickly.
At the end of the day, I had Greg show me how to do a scoop rescue. It turns out that you need to put most of your weight in front of the swimmer's cockpit and keep the swimmer against their back deck. He also showed me that if you use the deck lines in front of the cockpit as handholds in a regular rescue, you get a lot more leverage.
By the time we landed, the students were exhausted. It was a great day of learning on the water.

Am I Out of my Mind?

I decided, at the urging of TM, to sign up for one day of Greg Paquin's rough water training camp. Greg brought over Phil Cleg and Harry Whelan from the UK to do some coaching out on the races in Fisher Island Sound. I was really looking forward to playing in some rougher conditions than are usually found in the Bay and getting a chance to paddle with some world class talent.
As the event got closer the weather forecast got scary. The marine forecast was calling for 20 knot winds (with gust up to 25 or 30 knots), seas of 2 to 4 feet, a sixty percent chance of rain, and a high temperature in the fifties. It was the sort of forecast that would get to me consider canceling a paddle that I was coordinating. It was the sort of forecast that would make me skip a club paddle.
This was not a normal paddle. I'd paid money for rough water training with top notch coaches. If the coaches thought the conditions were OK, then I was going.
Then TM called to tell me his back was a mess. He was not going to be able to take the class. It was a good call on his part, but that meant I was going into a melee with a bunch of paddlers I didn't know....
Friday night I packed up the car and packed plenty of extra warm clothes. I set the clock for 6 am and went to bed early. Stonington is a 2 hour drive from Waltham and the training was starting at 9 am. I knew it was going to be a hard day on the water, so I wanted to get plenty of rest.
I checked the forecast before heading out this morning and it had improved a little. The rain and wind looked like it was going to hold off until the afternoon. The morning was only forecast for 15 to 20 knot winds with only a small chance of rain.
I got the Stonington early and wandered over to the meeting place. Greg had rented out an apartment in Stonington as a base of operations. It was a sweet set up.
The early morning weather was raw and cold, but not particularly daunting. The wind seemed calm. The sky was gray, but didn't look ready to dump rain.
At the pre-paddle meeting, Greg introduced the coaches and went over the tentative plan. We would cross over to northern point of Fisher Island and use the tidal races there to practice. The current would be ebbing for most of the day and with the winds, we would have some nice surf. Greg also showed us how to figure out ferry angles that incorporated the currents.
At the launch and in the harbor things seemed pretty calm. Once we passed the breakwater and entered Fisher Island Sound things started looking like it could get out of hand. The tail wind felt like it was at least 15 knots and there was plenty of confused, wind driven swells to surf.
Initially, I enjoyed the surfing. The Q-Boat does pretty well in following seas and I caught plenty of nice rides. I had to do some corrective bracing, but nothing radical.
At some point in the crossing, however, it hit me that the wind was building, the chop was getting bigger, and it was cold. I started anticipating the return trip. I was going to be worn out; the swells were going to be bigger and more confused; the wind would be much stronger; I didn't know any of the other paddlers in the group; I might have already gone for a swim; it was going to be even colder...
I quickly got the anticipatory panic under control using several techniques. I used the Al Fraken method of positive self-talk: You are good enough, smart enough, funny enough, and gosh darn it, people like you. I backed that up with a chant of "Circle of Power." Once the initial shock wore off, I trimmed my focus to my immediate situation: the motion of the kayak, the location of other paddlers, the feel of the blades in the water....
At Fisher Island we took a quick break and split the group into two. One group was going to immediately jump into the race. The group I was part of stayed in a reasonably protected cove to go over kayak handling in wind.
We covered the basics of how wind pushes a kayak around from the rear because that is generally where the hull has the least grip on the water. We covered turning into the wind using strokes at the front of the kayak and turning down wind using strokes at the rear of the kayak. We talked about how to trim the kayak using edging, sitting upright, and rudders when paddling quarter to the wind.
One point that really hit home was how radically the Q-Boat weather cocks. The majority of people in the course paddled Sea Kayaking UK (NDK) kayaks. Like every kayak they weather cocked over time. The Q-Boat on the other hand spun like a top into the wind. A couple of strokes and the bow had twisted straight into the wind. It was pretty dramatic. Fortunately, the Q-Boat can also be corrected fairly easy with a little bit of edging.
Once we had practiced kayak handling in just the wind, we moved out to the race to combine wind and currents. The currents, particularly when surfing, just amplify the forces the wind apply to the kayak. The race had some big wind waves, but they were not setting up particularly nicely. The waves tended to be confused and crossing each other.
I found myself struggling to get the timing down to catch the good rides. A lot of my struggle was due to inexperience. I don't spend a lot of time surfing or in tidal races. I was also using my Euro paddle which threw my timing off a bit. Some of my struggles were mental as well. I really didn't want to get flipped in these conditions. I had horror visions of going over and being washed out to sea, or getting rescued but then succumbing to hypothermia. I didn't want to look stupid or incompetent. There was also the ever present knowledge that I had to keep enough in the tank to get home (without being towed).
The best, and biggest, waves were at the very front of the race. I never did manage to work my way up the very front. Paddling against the wind and current was taxing. I didn't want to expend the fuel and I was a little afraid of getting crushed.
I did manage to keep the fear at bay enough to get into the mix. Over an hour or so in the race, I caught several excellent rides. There were several waves that were 4 or five feet high. I worked on doing some turning in the slop. I really tried to get a feel for the timing needed to catch the good waves. By the end of the session, I was looking forward to spending some time after lunch in the race again.
During lunch the coaches gave us some more pointers on how to catch waves. Phil's approach was to wait until the wave in front of you has lifted the bow of your kayak to its apex and then start digging in. By the time the trailing wave catches up to you, you have the hull speed to catch the wave.
After lunch the plan was to head back out and played in the race for its last 40 minutes before heading back to Stonington. We knew the wind was going to build over the course of the day, but hoped that it was going to cut us a little slack.
Once on the water, it was immediately obvious that the wind was giving us no quarter. It was a steady 20+ knots and blowing straight from Stonington Harbor.
Greg, wisely, pulled the plug. We regrouped in the cove we used before lunch for practice. Greg and the coaches split the group into two again.
One group was going to paddle up the shore of Fishers Island to stay out of the wind as long as possible. Then they would start making the crossing and let the ebb current push them into the harbor. The plan would make the return trip longer, but minimize the effect of the wind.
The other group was going to head straight for Stonington Harbor. It meant a shorter paddle across the sound. However, it also meant paddling straight into the wind for the entire crossing.
I opted for short but hard. I was starting to feel a little bit cool in my drysuit. I also didn't want to take the risk of running out of fuel due to spending more time on the water. The short, but possibly brutal, paddle sounded like it would keep me warm and get me home sooner.
It succeeded in both regards. It also pushed me right to the limits of my endurance. About half way across the sound, I was convinced that I was just going to collapse. My lunch was sitting precariously high in my stomach. My obliques ached. Each drag of the paddle through the water felt like moving a shovel through concrete that was three quarters dry. If someone hooked a tow onto my bow, I would have welcomed it.
Of course, I was not going to ask for help until I was truly at the end of my endurance. Instead, I just kept repeating "Circle of power" and watching my hands pass in front of my face. Place paddle, rotate, let the blade slide out, lift, repeat on the other side. I was even able to have a brief conversation about ferry angles with Greg.
I was glad to be on dry land at the end of the paddle. As TM likes to say: "Sometimes it feels good to stop." I was so pooped that after carrying a few kayaks from the beach to parking lot, I couldn't get my hands to fully open.
Greg ran an excellent course for the day. He took a bunch of paddlers of varying skill levels out on an extreme day, managed to get some good coaching in, and get everyone back home without an incident. I would definitely take another rough water session with Greg at the helm.
The course humbled me, but in a good way. It reminded me of my limits and that there are paddlers from whom I can learn a lot. It got me thinking about how I can up my game to their level.

Rough Water Symposium

TM tried for weeks to get me to attend this year's New England Rough Water Symposium. I wanted to go, but was torn. There was a potential family obligation that weekend, so I had an iron clad excuse for not attending. The family obligation just provided a good cover for the more complex reasons for not attending. The money issue was another good cover reason. The real issues keeping me back were fear based. I was afraid of going and finding out that I was not nearly as good as I think I am. In fact I was very afraid that I wouldn't be able to cut it with real instructors around. On the other hand, I really wanted to get some instruction from top notch coaches and stretch my skills a little bit.
The family obligation vanished last weekend, so I no longer had my iron clad excuse.... I still wasn't ready to drop $600 and three days to kayaking and potential emotional torture. Remembering that there had been talk of single day slots being offered, I decided to contact Maine Island Kayak, who organizes the event, to see if I could do a single day of current work on Friday. Fortunately, there was space available and I jumped at the opportunity. It seemed like a great compromise: one day of training in tidal races was worth a limited amount of self-inflicted emotional torture.
The day started early with a group meeting to load the trailer at 8am.
Fortunately for me, TM was gracious enough to offer me lodging. The food and amenities were superb.
After loading the trailer, we repaired to the cafeteria for a briefing on the BCU star system. Nigel Denis - THE Nigel Denis - gave our group a 30 minute overview of the revised BCU star system and explained some of the thinking behind it. TM and I were skeptical about the value of the session until it got underway. The new system makes a lot of sense. I particularly like the fact that they made the four star about more than just boat handling. Boat handling skills are key to being a good paddler, but judgment, navigation skills, and group skills make a good paddler a great paddler.
The presentation also made it seem like most RIC/KA coordinators operate at a near-four star level. I'm not saying that anyone of us could just walk through the four star certification. Based on the quick presentation, however, I do think that most of the coordinators would be able to take the four star training and not embarrass themselves.
The on-the-water action took place off of Stonington, CT. We paddled out to the race off of the eastern end of Fisher's Island and played a little bit. The conditions were not particularly big, but it was a nice warm-up. We all caught a few good rides.
One of the coaches pointed out that sticks were not the greatest for playing in currents and catching waves. I agreed that a stick is not the best choice for catching waves, but that it was more than adequate. The truth is that a big lollipop Euro blade is better at getting the quick acceleration required to catch waves than a stick. They grab more water and provide instant power. A stick is a more subtle instrument that is geared towards gentle, even acceleration. That does not mean that a stick cannot be used to catch waves. I definitely caught a few before lunch - and my body wasn't beaten to a pulp doing it.
After lunch we moved eastward to follow the races along Sugar Reef. The conditions in the afternoon were a little more powerful than in the afternoon. Harry, the British coach, encouraged us to hold off on using rudder strokes when we caught waves. His advice was to keep using forward strokes and use your lower body to control the kayak. Moving to a rudder stroke kills the kayak's hull speed and shortens your ride.
It was tricky. First, I had to overcome a very ingrained behavior. Second, I had to trust my balance to edge the kayak while on the wave. Several times the Q-boat decided to turn right down the face of a wave and I could not get it to straighten out. Harry suggested that I should drop my left foot off the foot pegs while edging to increase the pressure on the turn. Scary and in many cases only marginally more effective. He also said that sometimes there is just nothing you could do short of ruddering once the kayak's nose got more than a few degrees off of straight.
At one point in the afternoon I was trying to make a sharp turn and caught the edge of the Q-boat in the current. I did a quick brace and heard a loud crack. I was afraid I had broken the mighty stick. I did a quick inspection and it seemed fine. So, I continued to play.
A few minutes later I caught the edge again and just let myself go over. Rolled up easily and was right back in the fray.
At one point Harry offered to let me use his Euro paddle. It made getting on the waves much easier. I could get the Q-Boat up to speed much faster. I had fun for five or ten minutes until I got cocky...
I tried to make a quick sweep turn and tripped. I tried to roll up, but blew it. I considered making a second attempt, but decided against it. I was beginning to get tired and I had a strange paddle. I popped out and Harry rescued me.
On the way back to the put-in my paddle felt like it had a little extra flex in it. Then I felt a sharp spot on my hand when back paddling... There was a stress fracture in the mighty stick.
I was really bummed. H gave me this paddle as a wedding present, so it had a lot of sentimental value. It was also a great paddle. It felt really good in my hands, had a lot of power, and looked great. I was also dreading telling H it was broken. I was afraid she'd be heart broken. I was.
When I called H from the parking lot, she was happy that I had enjoyed myself playing in the currents. She was also less upset about the paddle than I was. She told me "I got it for you to use."
The day of training was great. I gained some confidence in my skills and learned a few little tricks.
Perhaps next year I'll do two days....

Island Paradise

CC made eggs, toast, and home fries to fuel us for the start of our island camping adventure. She had a cool toast maker that sat on the Coleman stove and held the toast in a ring. It toasted one side and then you had to flip the bread to toast the other side. H & I were quite impressed as we had never seen anything like it.
After breakfast, the group set about packing up the kayaks. H & I, and P & L, didn't actually have to break our tents down. H & I brought along our small tent in case we ended up kayak camping. (The Nova 4 would require its own kayak for transport.) So, all we had to do was pack clothes into dry bags, gather water, pack up our food, and stuff our sleeping bags into dry bags. Then we had to pack all of our stuff into the kayaks...
Bubbles had never packed up his Pintail and was keen to see how it went. He did a fantastic job packing his gear into the kayak and the kayak did a fantastic job carrying the load.
H & I were better off than Bubbles in that we had at packed up our kayaks once, but not by much. We had way more stuff to pack this time than the one other time we had packed the kayaks. H's kayak is pretty easy to pack. It isn't very long, but its compartments are normally proportioned. The Q-Boat, on the other hand, has odd proportions. The front compartment is cavernous, but the back compartment is flat, narrow, and long. The skeg box blocks the back third of the rear compartment, making it even smaller. The imbalance in compartment size makes balancing the load in the Q-Boat difficult. We solved the problem by putting the water in my back hatch as well as some of the food and putting clothes in the front hatch.
Once everyone was packed up we headed out to Harbor Island. We got a late start so we paddled straight for the Island and didn't stop for lunch. We arrived to find the island deserted!! All we had to do was find a nice spot to land and pick out the best tent sites. CC, Bubbles, and RB decided to seal land on the rocks. P & L found a sheltered, but rocky beach to land that was just behind the camp sites. H & I decided to paddle farther down the island to the beach near the meadow camp sites. It was sheltered, but we had to carry our stuff up a short incline.
H & I checked out the meadow as a camp site, but held off setting up tent to see what the others were doing. We walked over to the other side of the island to find people setting up tents. We liked the meadow site because it was soft, had nice views, and was on the west facing side of the island. However, we didn't want to be away from everyone else. After surveying the remaining sites near the others, we decided the quite, empty meadow was the perfect place to set up camp.
After getting our tent set up and regrouping with the others for lunch, we spotted a large group approaching our island. They were going to land and camp on the island... Before we knew it, H & I were in a tent city populated by a family of eight people from RI and MA. Fortunately, they were very nice people and nobody snored too loud.
After lunch, we , sans H who was getting a headache, set off for Isle Au Haut. CC thought we'd find a little town with shops, but I knew better. A few years ago, I had spent several days on Isle Au Haut. The only store on the island was tiny and only opened a few hours a week. When, we arrived, dripping wet, the store happened to be open, so we went in to find ice cream and other Isle Au Haut delicacies. As it turns out, the store did have a selection of heirloom cheeses and ice cream. But, we didn't get a chance to buy anything.... We had soaked the floors of the store, gotten in the way of restocking, and generally upset the storekeeper and her workers. They shooed us out and slammed the door behind us. They did say we could come back in fifteen minutes. Feeling the offer insincere, we paddled back to the island.
Back at the island, H was playing Goldilocks with people's tents. She just couldn't find a nice place to nap.
She did get enough rest to cook an excellent mexican dish while the sun set over the meadow. It was quite a feat of culinary skill. She cooked the whole shebang on two camp stoves. As a dinner aperitif, Bubbles passed around some 123 punch (a deadly combination of rum, brown sugar, and limes).
After dinner we retired to rocky side of the island for a camp fire. There we met an odd couple. The woman seemed very nice, but her male companion.... He was in the movie business, but never disclosed exactly what he did in the biz. RB quickly became a groupie and spent the next day talking about the movie guy.
The next day we woke to sun and clear skies. Bubbles cooked up some oatmeal and provided plenty of mix-ins. The group then started talking about forming a plan of action for the day. H & I retired back to meadow for a bit to start packing up some of our gear figuring we'd spend the day meandering our way back to Old Stone Quarry.
When I returned to the rest of the group, an hour or so later, they were sunning on the rocks like a bunch of lizards. The plan seemed to be no plan.
This didn't work so well for H. She was feeling under the weather and wanted to head back. She decided that taking a quick nap would hopefully help her feel better and give the group time to formulate a plan.
When she awoke to eat some lunch and nobody had moved much, she decided that we were heading back regardless of what the group wanted to do. She was not feeling better. In fact, she was beginning to feel worse. After H headed back to our tent site in the now empty meadow, I told the group what our plan was. This kicked things into gear for everyone. They were not going to let H & I paddled back to Old Stone Quarry alone.
We chose a route back to Old Stone Quarry that was direct and offered plenty of chances to rest. It was also different than the paths we had taken the previous days. H was a trooper and paddled the whole way back without much help. We did take the opportunity to practice some towing techniques, and H was an obliging subject. We hooked her up to a double I formation tow. We tried using contact lines to stabilize her kayak. I tried to use just my arms as a contact line, but it didn't work out so well. I couldn't keep the bows of the kayaks close enough. The result was that the kayaks pulled to one side of the tow.
After we unpacked the kayaks and showered, we headed into town for dinner at Fisherman's Friend Restaurant in downtown Stonington. The place had a very extensive menu of seafood. The waitress, who was a touch too perky, had memorized the whole thing as well as all of the options for sides. The food was good, but not great. The prices were moderate. The decor was clean and well lit. I think Stonington could use some more competition in the dining scene.
Exhausted and full we all crashed to rest up for the rest of our adventures. RB was heading straight home. H & I planned to meander our way home. CC & Bubbles were staying another day and then heading to Kennebunkport for an anti-war rally. P & L were planning a multiday trip home.

Maine Land

After I finished the excellent Greenland comprehensive course (at 5pm), I raced home, grabbed a quick bite to eat, transfered the Q-Boat from H's car to the egg, loaded H's kayak onto the egg, showered, and hit the road for Stonington, ME. I was pooped, so H took the helm of the egg and guided us through the lonely ME night to Old Stone Quarry Campground where the rest of the crew was soundly snoozing to dreams of the glorious kayaking to come.
We arrived just after midnight and set about locating our tent site. The directions: go to the main parking lot and set up your tent in the corner site. In the day light, after we had gotten some sleep, these directions made perfect sense...
We spotted what we thought was our site off to the far side of the parking lot. It had a nice fire pit and an enclosed food area. We were pretty sure that this set up was far too posh, but we rummaged through all of the stuff for clues anyway. Then we crossed the parking lot to where we found three little tent perched on the edge of the road. H spotted a RI Audubon Society mug and decided that this had to be the right place.
Our site located, we pulled out the Taj, an EMS Nova 4 that our kayaking friends gave us as a wedding present. Wisely, we had set it up in our back yard a few days earlier and didn't have to puzzle out the assembly in the dark while sleep deprived. For such a large tent (it has a screened entry room), the Taj is a snap to set-up. Three poles slip into well marked sleeves and the tent is erect. The real difficulty lay in finding a large enough flat spot for its perch. We wound up settling for a gentle slope that put our feet just below our heads. We could fix it in the morning.
After a sound, but cold, slumber, H and I woke to find the rest of the crew mulling about making breakfast. P & L made pancakes, bacon, and coffee on RB's two burner stove. You could hardly call it camping. The food was dinner quality and the setting was outdoor patioesque. It was hard for me to even think about getting into my kayak.
One other twist was sapping my motivation. There were diverse goals to be worked out. H & I, along with P & L, were content to camp at Old Stone Quarry and do day paddles. The sites, while not ideal, were functional, the two burner stove made cooking a snap, and the cars made zipping into town a breeze. In addition, we were not keen on the idea of packing up our kayaks, spending a good part of the day ferreting out a camp site, unpacking our kayaks, and setting up camp. There was also the issue of needing to pack out all of your waste products. (Not to mention that I was being a bit paranoid about not having done proper planning for a wilderness camping trip.)
CC, Bubbles, and RB wanted to do some island camping. It would be an adventure and definitely more picturesque than Old Stone Quarry. It also meant that we could venture farther out into the islands on day paddles.
We decided on a compromise plan. Today, we would just do a day paddle to reconnoiter possible island camping and return to Old Stone Quarry. If we found a good spot to camp, we'd pack up the kayaks tomorrow morning and camp out on the island tomorrow night.
With a rough plan laid out, we carried our kayaks down to the launch and set off to see the islands. The conditions were lovely - almost no wind, plenty of sun, and just a tinge of coolness in the air. It didn't take long for Bubbles to spot a pod of porpoises feeding along our path.
We meandered around the islands with CC playing the role of navigator. She had marked up her chart to indicate which islands had camping possibilities. H also had a chart and did her best to keep track of the group's location.
Before lunch we stopped at one island to investigate the camping sites. CC & Bubbles surveyed the island while RB pulled muscles from the rocky shore. The rest of us just floated around enjoying the views.
For lunch we stopped on a long sand spit extending out from one of the many islands in the harbor. This island was occupied by a couple with a friendly, and hungry, black lab. The dog enjoyed our lunch stop with us. Bubbles made sure the dog didn't starve for food or attention.
After lunch, we headed across Merchant's Row to check out Harbor Island. According to CC's chart it had plenty of camp sites and we could have a fire. We found the island occupied by a few campers that were planning on leaving the next day. It offered plenty of excellent camp sites and great views. We also met a very nice couple from Jamestown who were sailing along the ME coast with their blind dog. They were using the island as a doggy park for the evening.
After seeing Harbor Island, we decided that we would return tomorrow for camping. It was well worth the effort of packing up the kayaks and lugging all of our waste out.
We chose a different, more direct, path back to the campground. We were all getting hungry and there was one more island camp site to check out.
Back at the campground, I decided to try my roll. I figured that I wouldn't get too cold and could just pop on some dry clothes. The water is that cold and I was only wearing a light rash guard... By the time I was back on dry land, had the kayaks safely pulled up above the tide line, and had unpacked the dry clothes, I was starting to feel dangerously cold. My typically addled mind was slipping into full fledged addledome. As quickly as possible, I scooped up dry clothes, ran to the shower room, and soaked in a very warm shower to reheat. It took a while in warm, dry clothes for me to feel completely normal.
For dinner, RB cooked up a spicy shrimp and tomato-sauce dish that he capped with steamed muscles.

Connecticut in the Wind

The plan for the day was to meet at Esker Point in Groton, paddle over to Race Point on Fisher's Island, reconnoiter the Race, paddle back, and then party in Mystic. The marine forecast was not encouraging (SW winds around 20knts), but I wasn't about to let a little thing like that dampen my spirits. My rational brain knew that given the forecast, paddling out to the race was not and ideal plan for a relaxing day on the water. The wind would push us over to Race Point, but would pound us all the way back. The wind would also work the waves into a frothy mess.
Undaunted by rational thoughts, I arrived at the put in early and took a nap. I figured PB, TM, and BH would show up shortly there after. Some time later, PB calls me to see where I was parked... The directions to the put-in from the RIC/KA website are not the greatest. PB had found the parking lot across the street from the put-in. BH showed up on PB's heels. But TM was still missing.
TM had taken the long way to the put-in to reconnoiter possible places to crash in the evening. He was also suffering a bit from several consecutive days of paddling.
Once he arrived TM quickly squelched any plans to paddle to Race Point. His back was not up to it. The rest of rejoiced that at least one of us had enough sense to not embark on a death paddle. PB, BH, and I were willing to give the original plan a shot despite our good judgement.
The modified plan was to hug the coast and paddle east towards Mystic and Stonington. That would give us some cover from the wind and still offer interesting paddling.
We set out of the nice protected cove at the put-in and entered the wind. The wind had kicked up some good chop and it was pushing the stern of the Q-Boat around.
I was pretty happy that we weren't heading out into Fishers Island sound. I was having a heck of a time finding the right amount of skeg to settle the Q-Boat's stern. Eventually, I settled on not using the skeg. It was easier to correct for the wind by edging when needed.
BH needed to make some adjustments. So stopped at the monastery in Mystic Harbor. We kept looking for their kayaks.
We stopped for lunch on a pleasant beach between Mystic and Stonington. It was right on the railroad tracks, but it was not a problem. The train was very quiet and the view was superb. The beach also kept us out of the wind which was nice.
After lunch we headed over to Stonington for some ice cream.
Our first attempt at landing nearly got TM eaten by a large German Shepherd. We paddled up to what looked like a public dock and TM and BH proceeded to pull ashore. Meanwhile this woman on her sailboat was growing agitated watching helplessly as we invaded her private beach. Her husband was sitting idly by and their shepherd was quietly eyeing the boarding party. I politely asked her what the issue was and explained that we were looking for a public dock. As the shepherd was eyeing TM, we decided it was best to move to the public landing.
We found the public docks. There was a bathroom, but no ice cream.
The paddle back to the cars was a slog into the wind.
Back at the cars we located my brother, who was drinking at the near by restaurant, and made a plan for the evening festivities. Find rooms in Mystic and then eat.
We caravanned around Mystic vainly looking for a room. Mystic is a very popular place on sunny summer weekends.
After being shut out of all the hotels in the area, we decided to bag finding rooms and get some food. BH guided us to the Packer Inn Pub. It is a small colonial era pub with great atmosphere. We got a table in the corner and enjoyed a fantastic meal and some nice beers.
After dinner we grabbed some ice cream and headed home. It was not quite what I planned, but it was a fun day with great friends.