Rescue Review

It is important to digest and dissect rescues. They offer great learning experiences.
The trip last Sunday offered a number of lessons.
Lesson 1: Eric Tries to Rescue Bob and Ends up Getting Rescued
I am not certain my decision to go in after Bob was the soundest decision I could have made. I say that after having been smashed, but even before that it was a questionable decision. I wasn't feeling at my best after being off the water for a few weeks, out of the Q-boat for a solid month, and not having paddled in anything more serious challenging than a salt pond for nearly six weeks. In the moment, with the adrenaline running, I felt I could do the rescue. The wave that squished me was pretty extreme.
Paul's rescue was flawless. He talked to me enough to determine I was OK, but not too long to delay the rescue. He quickly assessed the situation, made the plan clear to me, and executed the rescue. His call to toss me a line and tow me to safety was excellent. The conditions where the rescue started were big, steep swells that made maneuvering tricky. Paul's kayak could easily have whacked me if he had attempted to secure my kayak. Once he had towed me out of the rocks and swell, it was much easier to put me back in my kayak. Fortunately, I was properly dressed for being in the water and the few extra minutes were not critical. Even if I had not been properly dressed for immersion, Paul's choice to tow me out was probably still the right one. Trying to do the rescue in the swells could have taken longer or resulted in Paul's going into the drink also.
Lesson 2: Bob Plays in the Rocks and Takes a Swim
One could say that Bob should have had the sense to stay out of the rocks given the conditions. However, that was Bob's call to make. If he honestly believed he was a match for the conditions, he cannot be faulted for looking for some fun.
What happened once Bob got squished is ripe for analysis. We did some after the paddle and I have been thinking about it since. After I was dumped, Matt moved into help Bob. I'm not sure what happened while I was being rescued, but I know that Bob, his kayak, and Matt were still being bounced around in the rocks after I was safely back in my kayak. From what I heard, Bob had found his way out of the water and onto the relative safety of some rocks and was trying to drag his kayak up with him. Meanwhile, Matt was sitting just off the rocks to help. After a few minutes, Bob managed to get his kayak on the rocks with him and drag it to a section of water that was protected enough to allow or a launch.
While everything turned out OK, the whole thing took too long and left at least one kayak in needless danger. Based on what I heard, I think the root cause of the trouble was a lack of communication compounded by a lack of clear command and control. When rescuing me, Paul took charge of the situation. It sounded like neither Matt nor Bob took charge of Bob's rescue. This makes a confusing situation worse.
It looked like Matt was following standard rescue protocol. If there is a swimmer near the rocks and the swimmer is separated from his kayak, the first rescuer secures the swimmer and tows them to safety. A second rescuer gets the kayak. Once both swimmer and kayak are out of danger they are reunited.
Bob's goals and perspective were very different. He reported that felt pretty safe on the rocks. He was out of the water and felt that it would be easier to get himself and his kayak to the protected water on the far side of his little outcrop. He reported that he saw Matt's kayak as a danger to himself because it was being tossed around and could easily have whacked him.
I'm not sure if either Matt or Bob were right about how to proceed, so I'm not going to pick sides. Matt's approach is the correct one in 90% of situations. Bob made a good case for his approach given the particular circumstances.
I will say that one of them needed to take charge of the situation. Bob either needed to clearly wave Matt off, or Matt needed to just latch onto Bob and drag him out. The third option would have been for Matt to simply leave Bob on the rocks once he saw that he was OK. As it was Matt sat off the rocks, in harms way, for too long. It also took too long for the rest of the group to have a sense of what they needed to do.
Lesson 3: What to do with nervous paddlers?
While the rescues were going on, MA and Bob were sitting out in the Bay with Carole. Needless to say they were nervous. The swells where they were waiting were large and the wind was pretty strong. Carole wanted to take them closer to the end of the Bluffs where things were more settled. She figured that there were five paddlers to help out rescuing Bob and we could handle it.
While I'm not a big fan of splitting groups in general, there are times when it is appropriate. I think this was one of them. Getting the less experienced paddlers to safer conditions would have lessened the chances that one of them would have gone in the drink also.
However, the decision was made to keep the group together. This makes sense also. If there had been trouble once they moved off their lower numbers increased the danger of a rescue.
Lesson 4:Staying Warm
Becca's brush with hypothermia is a good reminder of the dangers inherent in winter paddling. In the summer what you wear is hardly a concern. Heat management is not that hard. In the winter, however, heat management is critical and difficult. Picking the right clothes to wear under a drysuit is a matter of safety as well as comfort. You need to be warm enough to keep your core temp up, even in the water, but not so warm that you sweat away the benefits of a drysuit.
Becca's situation is also a reminder that all the members of the group need to keep an eye on each other right up to the point that boats are stowed and dry clothes are donned. Hypothermia hits fast and is unforgiving. The signs to look out for are slurred speech and someone acting more spacey than is normal.
Thankfully, Ken spotted the signs and reacted quickly. To treat hypothermia you need to warm the victim. Get them into dry clothes, put them in a warm place, and give them something warm to drink. If they don't start to show signs of improvement call 911.

Chilling Out

On Tuesday the weekend forecast looked promising and Paul put the bug in people's ears. When the weekend roared in, the temperature was still high but so were the winds. Paul's original plan was to paddle south from Narragansett town beach and make for Pt. Judith. The westerly winds forced us to move the launch point north and the direction up in the air. Paul figured it would be better to get blown into Jamestown than get blown into Tiverton if things got bad.
NOAA had decided to post a small craft advisory due to the high winds. Despite the winds things look deceptively calm. Early recon of Narragansett town beach and Bonnet Shores showed that the winds were blowing the surf out. All the action was along the Jamestown shore and around Beavertail. It looked like a few well prepared paddlers could find some safe paddling and a little action.
Nine of us showed up at Bay Campus ready to paddle. Carole, MA, and Bill were all sporting shiny new Kokatat drysuits. Ken, Paul, Matt, Becca, Bob, and myself were all in our old drysuits. The majority of the suits (7) were GoreTex Kokatats. They are the gold-standard and is priced accordingly. Bob's suit, while a Kokatat, is not the revered drysuit. Instead he has the Tropos paddle suit which costs about $300 less. Instead of a gasket at the neck it has a high neoprene collar to keep the water out. I have a Reed paddle suit which costs around $400. It is made out Reed's Chill Cheater fabric that is water proof and breathable. Becca has a non-breathable, nylon suit.
I also had the Q-boat back from Carl Ladd's skilled hands. He patched up the rock damage and installed one of his new ballistic strength keel strips. It is made of the same stuff they use for truck liners and looks like it could take a rock at high speed without a nick. The keel strip runs the length of the boat and, unlike most keel strips, runs along the sides of the skeg. The black looks like it was built for the boat.
We decided to head south so that the winds would blow us back home after battling our way down the coast. It was a battle too. Once we got up to the Bonnet bluffs the gusts were strong enough to bring the group to a crawl. The waters were pretty lumpy also. We were happy to duck into the relative calm of Bonnet harbor to regroup.
After some discussion, we decided to poke our heads out around the point but not plan on going too far. As Ken pointed out, if things were tough along the bluffs they would be worse beyond the point. So we worked our way along the shore playing in the rocks. Once around the point thing got more interesting. The swells were pushy and you could see that things further out looked very rough. It didn't stop us from testing our mettle a bit.
After lunch we made our way along the coast towards Bonnet Shore's beach where there was a little bit of surf. Before getting into the surf we got back into the rocks. I think everyone lost a bit of gelcoat. I managed to scrape despite the keel strip by catching a bit of barnacle to the side of the strip.
At the beach several of us played in the surf and caught a few good rides. Each of us, save Bob, managed to take a dunk or two. I found myself in the water twice after trying my luck at surfing backwards. I think that I'll wait until summer to try that again. Only one of the dunks resulted in my ejecting the kayak. As with the others who had to eject,I found myself stuck in water that was deep enough to keep the kayak floating but shallow enough to make rolling impossible.
After being washed around in the surf, we turned and made for home.
The trip home along the bluffs offered us a choice of playing it safe or playing in the rocks. The smart ones-Carole, Paul, MA, and Bill-played it safe. I decided to take the middle path by staying close enough to the rocks so that I could get closer if things looked good and get out if they started getting dodgy. Others, including Bob, decided to play in the rocks.
Early in the return trip, Bob, as he was being sloshed around close to jagged, hungry rocks, yelled to me that he was in a very bad place. I agreed and decided that it was a good time to stay a little further off the rocks. A little later I spotted Bob in a much worse place. He was in close to rocks and getting beat up by waves that just got stronger. Before Bob could get out of the ring, the waves KO'ed him.
Since I was the closest, I went in to extract him. Before I could get to him, I spotted a nasty looking wave moving towards me and a nice ledge that was going to cause the wave to break right on top of me. I turned into the wave hoping to get over it before it broke. It was a good plan, but not good enough. Right behind the wave I saw was a bigger one. After getting through the first one, I was crushed by the second one. It lifted the Q's bow to about 80 degrees and tossed me to the opposite side from the first wave. I struggled in vain, but found myself upside down, out of position for a roll, and uncertain how close to the rocks I was. I had a fleeting thought about rolling up, but realized that I was better off out of my kayak. Out of the kayak I could be sure my head was above water and I had a chance of keeping my head off the rocks. Even if I made the roll I wasn't sure I'd be in position to get out of danger. So, I pulled the grab loop and ejected into the cold water.
Because we had such a strong group, I was confident that I would not be in the water for long. I was also glad that I had dressed properly for immersion. My drysuit, although not a Kokatat, performed admirably. However, Paul and Matt performed better. They were on top of me almost as soon as I came up. Paul took over my rescue and Matt headed in to rescue Bob. Because the conditions were so unsettled, Paul decided to toss me the end of his tow belt instead of attempting to either do a T-rescue immediately or hook the belt on my belt by himself. Since I was lucid and calm there was no reason to risk smashing me with his kayak. I caught the line and he towed me into calmer waters where we could more easily get me back into my kayak.
Once I was safely back in my kayak we could turn our attention to Bob's rescue. Things were not going so smoothly for Bob and Matt. Bob was fairly safe because he had managed to get himself out of the water and onto some rocks. At the very least he was on dry land. His kayak, however, was proving to be a bit less cooperative. It was full of water and the swells were not giving up their lunch without a fight. After a few minutes, Bob managed to get his kayak across the rocks to a place where things were calmer and he could safely get back on the water.
For more detailed thought on the rescues see here.
Bob and I were both lucky. We were both prepared for the worst and surrounded by people we knew were capable of handling bad situations. The combination kept us alive and in good enough shape to still enjoy the rest of the paddle.
Back at Bay Campus there was the mandatory rolling and rescue practice. Both Matt and I suffered ice headaches. I think that my rolling practice may just be over for the winter.
Bill did his first roll!! He wanted to try going over in the cold water to see what it was like. I guess he didn't find it appealing since he rolled right back up!! It was an impressive site.
Usually once everyone is back on shore the danger is assumed to be over. The dangers of paddling are all on the water aren't they? Aside from the danger of pulling something from lifting a kayak that is?
Once the weather gets chilly the danger really isn't over until everyone is in dry street clothes and sitting in a heated car on the way to post paddle feeding.
Becca, whose drysuit is not breathable or dry, started talking gibberish once she got back to her car. She was acting spacey and sluggish. Ken realized what was happening immediately, got Carole to get Becca dressed in warm clothes, and got his truck warmed up. Once Becca was dry and dressed, he put her in the heated truck. Slowly, she started to regain her wits and function again.
It took less than five minutes for her to go from able to function normally to incapacitated by the cold. That was in 45 degree air. Imagine how long it takes in 30 degree water...
Fortunately we all recovered and were able to enjoy a great meal at Italian Village in Peacedale. What could have been a run of the mill paddle--which is still a great thing--turned into an exciting, educational mini adventure.

Thanksgiving Treat

One of the many things that I gave thanks for this year was that I am able to get out and kayak with great people. This year I was lucky enough to be thankful and enjoy a paddle to boot. The weather forecast for Saturday and Sunday was perfect: mild temps and low winds.
A few people were daring enough to head out into the maelstrom Friday. I may have been one of them, but I was saved from myself because I needed to drop the Q-Boat off at Carl Ladd's repair shop for some gelcoat patching and the installation of keel strip. I figure that a keel strip is a wise investment since I bought Q-Boat to play rough. The new keel strip application Carl is installing looks like it will survive an impact with a high-speed ferry.
The planning started with an e-mail from Bob H. imploring people to get out. The e-mail languished in cyberspace until Friday when we all started waking from our Turkey comas. Then there was the mid-day lull while people were out doing stuff. There was also the wait to get connected with the Tim. Finally, after rounds of e-mail, some whining by Bob H., debate over if we wanted to just do the same old Bay Campus paddle, and some more phone calls, we finally had a plan: Fogland.
Fogland offers some open water conditions without being so exposed that you cannot easily recover from a bad turn. It also had the advantage of not being the Bay Campus. We were all up for paddling a different spot.
We also debated the merits of posting the paddle on the message board for the rest of the group. I didn't want the paddle to be exclusive. I also didn't want to step on the toes of the group planning to paddle out of the Bay Campus. In the end it didn't really matter. The plan didn't come together until late Saturday evening.
Sunday morning we arrived at Fogland looking forward to a sunny, windlesss late fall paddle.
Despite the fact that she was not paddling, H provided unloading assistance so I could focus on getting on the water. It is surprising how much using a different kayak can mess up a pre-paddle routine. The Endeavor's hatches are much larger than the Q-Boat's, so packing it up is different. The hatch covers are also totally different. The Endeavor's comps needs to be mounted. It has a place to store the pump in the cockpit. The little details all add up.
The big differences became obvious once we got on the water. I felt like I was bobbing around like a cork. The Endeavor rides like a Lincoln with air-suspension compared to the Q-Boat. I had gotten very used to being close to the water and having the kayak respond almost instantly to my movement. The Endeavor took a little more work to turn and lean.
The slight difference in maneuverability didn't stop me from following Bob through the rocks. It did cost me a bit of gel coat here and there. Fortunately, the Endeavor is built like a tank. MA learned quickly to wait and listen for the scraping sound before following me through a slot. I'm not sure if it was a good indicator because her Avocet is much more responsive than the Endeavor.
We all did a fair share of rock dodging to make up for the lack of wind early in the paddle. As the paddle progressed, the wind picked up. It was much stronger than predicted, but that was OK because it kept things interesting.
As always, H had impeccable timing. She pulled into the lot as we pulled into the beach. Before washing ashore, I had to prove to myself that I could roll the Endeavor. I can, but it is much harder. Then, just to be cool, I tried the off-side roll. I came up, barely, and, as punishment for showboating, I got a royal ice cream headache.
While getting dressed, Paul treated the crowd to a table dance. Someone put a dollar in his sock to take it off. Bob offered him a dollar to put it back on. I did my best to steer clear of the whole thing. My focus paid off and for the first time I was not the last person ready to go. In fact, I even beat Tim.
After paddle libation was had at Coastal Roasters. While sipping coffee drinks, we discussed each others secret names. We also debated the merits of DVRs (I love them), digital music players (I could make it through a work day without my iPod), computers and phone technology. The technology discussion was sparked off by Tim joining the 20th century by finally getting jacked into the internet and e-mail. H and I also made a technology investment over the weekend and joined the VoIP revolution.
We finally tore ourselves away from the excellent view and the excellent company. The work week awaited. Fortunately, we'd had the chance to recharge before diving into the grind.

Birthday Paddle

Today was auspicious for many reasons: I got to paddle, hang out at my favorite coffee joint, and do all these things in excellent company. There was some anxiety about the plans coming together. I couldn't make the Saturday paddle and wasn't sure who would be up for a Sunday paddle. On Friday night Tim and I decided that we would do a low key paddle out of Marina Park and then get some coffee at Java Madness. To complicate matters even more, neither one of us had access to any form of modern communication gear until later on Saturday. H was on the fence about paddling in the cold. Our oven was thwarting her efforts at baking bunt bliss. Ultimately, the little frustrations made the outcome even more delicious.
H and I packed up the kayaks Sunday morning and before hitting the road pondered how long it had been since the egg proudly wore both of our kayaks. It had been at least a month and more likely six weeks. H didn't paddle on the Barking Crab expedition and I was trapped at work on the Veteran's Day paddle out of Wickford. It is a little sad to think that the gaps between paddles will get longer before they get shorter. H, I'm sure, feels it a little more than I do since she does not paddle in the winter.
For a change, we were the first people at the launch. Tim showed up a few minutes later and Bob, in his sexy back box, followed in short order. Paddle preparations took a back seat to checking out Bob's box. The little Scion B model is pretty impressive. The seats are comfy, there is a ton of room in the back end, and the racks have plenty of span. It even has a satellite ready radio.
As we were getting ready to paddle, it became evident that H was not going to be able to go. Her lips were turning blue and she was getting very cold. Wisely, she decided that, despite wanting to paddle with on me on my B-day, she would visit a friend while we were on the water. She figured I'd have more fun if I didn't have to worry about her freezing. She also figured it would be more fun to be in a good mood for the post paddle partying.
The final group of paddlers was Tim, Bob, Rich, and myself. We headed out of Marina Park along the docks at a leisurely pace. I needed some time to warm up. I'm not sure if it was the Flu shot I got on Friday, the fact that I'd been out of the kayak for a few weeks, or the cold weather gear, but I was feeling out of sorts when we started out. I was stiff, couldn't find my rhythm, or keep the Q-boat's tail from wandering. I kept whacking the skeg control, so adjusting the drift with the skeg was tricky.
Once past the point of Harbor Island we hugged the western shore and wended our way towards Snug Harbor. Along the way we found plenty of shallow water and rocks--not the fun kind of rocks either....
I was paddling along talking to Bob when WHACK. I ran the Q-boat bow first into a sleeper. The nose of the Q-boat has steep angle and the rock was perfectly poised to inflict maximum damage to the "impressive clipper bow." The scar is superficial, but long and ragged. I've put the Q-boat in plenty of desperate straights in the few short months I've captained her and earned nary a scratch. The irony is delectable.
I'd never been to Snug Harbor. It looks like it would be interesting at the right point in the tide, but today wasn't happening. There was a decent current running. I managed to use it to impress Bob. As a power boat came into the channel, I did a speedy sculling draw while moving backwards. The current did all of the work, but I took all of the credit.
From Snug Harbor we headed back past the commercial fishing docks and under the bridge to head down the eastern side of the pond. It looked like Tim was going to drive the group back to the launch without lunch. Bob and I quickly started whining and Tim, after consulting his new watch ($14 at Target), decided that we could stop for a quick lunch.
Over lunch we debated the plausibility of the Block Island Ferry being completely automated. Rich was told, by an authoritative source, that the Ferries were run completely on automatic. According to his source, the pilots didn't even perform the docking maneuvers. Tim, Bob, and I took the contrary position. Tim and Bob took the it doesn't make sense from a safety position. I took the it doesn't seem technologically feasible based on the economics position. The discussion veered off to a discussion of how they use GPS to anchor oil platforms and other large vessels that need to be held at precise positions in open water.
Before hitting the water, Tim broke out the birthday bunt muffins. We even had candles. H's frustration from the night before paid off. The muffins were a blast of chocolate goodness. Bob's became the brick of chocolate goodness that kept bubbling to the surface, but that is a tale for him to tell.
The paddle back to the put-in was superb. What little wind there had been died down. I was feeling back in form and lunch energized me. I decided to just open it up. As I picked up the cadence, I felt better and the Q-boat grew steadier. Tim calls the state I was in Zen paddling. It is an apt description. You allow yourself to focus on the cadence, the weight of the blade through the stroke, the motion of the kayak in the water, the sound of the group. The rest of the stress, confusion, pressure, and happiness of the rest of your life fades to the background. The effort of paddling energizes you from a primordial well that lays hidden from the workaday world.
Back at the launch Tim, Rich, and I practiced our cold water rolling while H, who pulled into the parking lot as we pulled into the dock, snapped some "action" shots. It is amazing how much the cold can effect things. For a couple of rolls I wore a warm fleece cap and it wasn't bad. Then I took the hat off... Talk about an ice cream headache. The water is still in the 50's.
Once we got changed and repacked, Tim, Bob, H, and I convened at Java Madness for a well deserved cup-o-joe. We gossiped, heard Bob's tale of terror from Saturday's paddle, and talked about big paddle plans for next season. These are the things that will get us through the cold weather: good conversation over warm coffee, dreams of adventures to come, and the knowledge that we have excellent friends to enjoy them.
I am a very lucky man who had an excellent birthday. May we all be so fortunate.

Urbane Paddling

The weather this weekend was a blessing. It was cool enough--mid 40's--that H decided her kayak season was over, but it was sunny enough for seventeen of us to enjoy a beautiful day of paddling. While we had a great day on the water, it is hard to argue with H's decision to stay dry. Once you get past the middle of October, the water is cold enough to be dangerous, the air is cool enough for a paddler to get chilled, but it also warm enough so that you sweat in a drysuit. If you do not like the cold, paddling in November could not be all that fun. It can also be dangerous.
I do not mind the cold and don't easily get chilled. Today's paddle also held little chance of danger. It was a very different paddle for the group: it was in Boston. We were paddling from Magazine Beach in Cambridge to the Barking Crab, in the Fort Point Channel. The route took us down the Charles, escorted by a number of racing shells, through the canoe path carved out by the Esplanade, under the Zakim bridge, through the locks, and past the Boston water front. Unlike most of the paddles we do, this paddle does not offer any opportunities for playing in the rocks, it does not offer any beaches to land on, it does not offer any expansive views of ritzy residential waterfront homes. It does offer the chance to paddle through a major city, it does offer the chance to paddle through some locks, it does offer the chance to see a major seaport.
As a general rule, kayaking is something I do to get away from the city. However, there is something special about seeing Boston from the water. Sure the cars are careening along the edges of the river, but they are silent. The crowds along the river are happy and vibrant. The skyscrapers thrust into the sky in blazes of glassy glory. You can almost forget that the city also harbors a festering, crowded rot born of too many busy people jammed into too many small spaces. The only hint of the subterranean gloom city dwellers spend the time in between busy stops, is the red line as it crosses the Charles. From the water, it is easy to remember the grand things about our old city.
We had a great time on the water and a great feed at the Barking Crab. The staff did a great job of accommodating 16 stinky paddlers and two lovely guests. They made us sit outside--who wouldn't have--but they sent someone out to take our orders. The food was fast and tasty. The fries were a huge hit!!
We got back to the cars just before dark. The veterans of this paddle thought this was the best of the three. The newbies were pleasantly surprised at what a nice paddle you can find in Boston.
I was close enough to home that I managed to have time to see Borat. Borat is not nearly as relaxing as the paddle to the Barking Crab.