Group Management

It's the time of year when instead of paddling constantly, I think about paddling constantly. The topic on my mind lately is group management. There are a few reasons for this. One is that winter paddling always makes me more cautious about paddling conditions. The group I'm paddling with are part of the conditions. One other is that there have been a few incidents recently where paddlers got into trouble.
One is documented here and here. We didn't make good decisions about conditions and the ability of the people in our group. Our communication broke down at critical points. A paddler was also left to return to the put-in by himself because the members of his group did not stick together. We ended up with a paddler in the water and performing a long distance tow in windy conditions. Once the incident happened and the group slipped into crisis management mode things went smoothly and it ended up fine.
Another incident happened a week later (I was not a participant and only report based on what people who did participate reported.) A group of paddlers paddled into an exposed part of the Bay on a windy and cold day. One of the paddlers decided to paddle knowing that he was pushing the limits of his skills. He believed that two experienced members of the group, who had paddled with him previously, were familiar with his skills. As the group progressed into more exposed conditions, the new paddler grew increasingly uneasy, but did not speak up. The group decided to make an exposed crossing in an area that is known to get rough and the group drifted apart. At one point the the newer paddler ceased being able to control his kayak and eventually ended up in the water.
In both cases the management of the group fell short. Experienced paddlers made decisions based on their own skill levels and desires. Less skilled paddlers didn't judge their skills appropriately. The participants didn't consider the group as a whole.
Paddling is a recreational activity for most of us and we'd rather not have to herd cats. RIC/KA, as a matter of policy, eschews placing a trip coordinator in a position of responsibility. How can a group be managed if nobody is in charge?
One thing that makes managing a group easier is paddlers making sound judgements about what paddles are appropriate for them. Paul has a great post about self assessment here.
Another thing that makes managing a group easier is all members of the group being considerate of the other members of the group. They show up on time. They stay with the group. They don't take undue risks. They speak up when they are uncomfortable. They help out if another paddler seems distressed. They don't push the group into conditions that are beyond the weakest member of the group. They accept group decisions. etc.
However, there are times in almost every paddle where someone needs to be in charge and make decisions. Sometimes the decision may be unpopular, but needs to be made. Someone needs to reign in the experienced paddlers if they are pushing the group beyond its level. Someone needs to alter the paddle plan if it becomes clear that conditions are changing or a paddler is beginning to be distressed. Someone may even have to tell a paddler that they should stay on the beach.
Groups are tricky things and I know that I'm not a great group manager. I'm much more comfortable lending a trip coordinator a hand in keeping a trip running smoothly. I suppose that is why when thinking about paddling in tough conditions, I don't think about open trips. I think of paddling with a close knit group of people I know and trust. I think of paddling with a self-herding group of cats.
Managing a group may be tough work, but if you choose to paddle in a group it must be done - particularly in rough conditions. Doing a rescue puts everyone at risk and can ruin an otherwise great day on the water. Hurt feelings are easy to repair - bodies are much harder.

The November Paddle

Once the cold water paddling season starts, I recalibrate my expectations for paddling. Instead of trying to get out once a week, I live with once a month. Instead of looking to push the envelope, I stay inside the safety box. It is nice to just get on the water and stretch the paddling muscles.
Today's paddle was nearly perfect as a winter paddle. PB posted a show and go out of Third Beach. Since I hadn't managed to get on the water all month and I wasn't sure about the group going out on Sunday, I was definitely going to make this paddle.
I had trouble getting out of the driveway in the morning and was late getting to the beach, but everyone was very laid back about getting on the water. It was cold and sunny. Eventually, we (PB, BH, CR, CMC, CC, TM, and myself) got on the water and headed towards Second Beach.
TM was a new paddler to the group, so I made a point to talk to him. New paddlers can be a bit unnerving on cold water paddles because the safety margins are slimmer. The conditions were mild and TM was up to the challenge.
We noodled around the point and landed on the beach for lunch. After a sunny lunch, we launched and headed back to the put-in. TM had to get to work, so it was a short paddle.
On the way back, CR and BH stopped to pick up a huge ball of fishing line. The line was stranded on one of the rocks along the coast.
Back at the put-in, PB and I took our turns at rolling. PB's looked effortless. Mine felt rusty, but I came up without worry. The water, a balmy 50 degrees, chilled my noggin.
I look forward to a equally pleasant Dec. paddle.

Giving Thanks

Yesterday's American holiday is the day to think about the things for which we are thankful. (I firmly believe, and try to act on the belief, that you should be thankful every day.)
I've got a lot to be thankful this year: the beginning of a great marriage to a great woman, a new house top, a wonderful Alaskan adventure, a new iPhone, several great parties, seeing some of my friends have solid relationships, reconnecting with an old friend, a job that I don't hate, etc.
I'm also thankful that most of the people I know also have a lot of reasons to be thankful. Let's face it any one blessed enough to enjoy kayaking has a lot of reasons to be thankful: having enough disposable income to own (and maintain) the kit needed to kayak, a living space large enough to accommodate a kayak, decent health, plenty of leisure time, the company of good people, experiencing nature, good weather, etc. Plenty of people are not so lucky. They struggle to make ends meet. They cannot find the time to smell the roses. They have some infirmity. They cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel. They face the constant threat of violence.
Our lives may not be all that we would wish. However, our balance sheets are in the black. I know mine is and I thank the universe for my good fortune.

The Winter Cometh

It is getting colder, days are growing shorter, and the water chills the bones. Winter looms. Kayaking days are scarce and therefore more precious.
Ironically, the volume of non-kayaking obligations grow also. The leaves need to be racked and bagged. The grass needs to be mowed. The gutters need to be cleaned. Friends and family schedule holiday gatherings. Work picks up in preparation for the holiday lull.
The kayaks have been sitting unused in the garage for weeks and I'm beginning to sense the gathering clouds of winter gloom. How to preempt the gathering darkness?
I still plan on kayaking at least once a month. I'm also planning to do some snowshoeing and some projects around the house. My plan also includes regular visits to the gym. I've got no faith in my actually getting to the gym. Toiling away on a spinning wheel in a neon lit dungeon is not spiritually satisfying. My body feels better, the malaise eases a bit, but the spirit doesn't feel better.
It is the energy of nature and friends that nourishes the spirit. Fortunately, the season offers plenty of opportunities for seeing friends and family. I plan on making the most of them (as well as the kayaking).

When Level Two Trips Go Bad

H wanted to get at least one more paddle in this season, so I posted a level two trip heading from Bay Campus to Rome Point. The distance was pushing the upper limit of a strict level two, but still within the cutoff. Joe, looking for a more adventurous outing decided that he'd run a level three from the Bay Campus as well.
The winds were whipping when we arrived at Bay Campus and they were forecasted to stay steady throughout the day. At the put-in we briefly discussed moving the paddle to Tuckertown Pond to gain shelter from the wind. For a strict level two paddle we should have moved to the pond, because the winds were definitely over the prescribed limit. However, the assembled group (H, CC, BH, PB, LB, TM, and DV) were all capable level three paddlers and voted to stay on the Bay. We would paddle close to the shore to stay as protected from the wind as possible and slowly fight our way into the wind up to Rome Point.
Joe's plan was to cross over to Jamestown and paddle into the wind. He, JS, and Larry set off ahead of the level two group.
As I was gathering my gear, H noticed that I was leaving my tow-belt in the car.
"You really should take that," she pointed out.
"But its just a level two paddle, I'm not going to need to tow anybody," I protested.
"Still," she said with a disappointed look.
I put the tow-belt on. Somehow, the tow-belt incident through me off and it took me forever to get on the water. I could hear the group collectively tapping their toes waiting for me.
I finally got on the water and, along with TM, proceeded to hug the shore going north. The rest of the group paddled outside of the mooring fields. The combination of the wind protection we gained from being near shore and our native paddling speed opened up a wide gap between us and the rest of the group. We held up and the rest of the group caught up and joined us closer to the shore.
As we moved up the coast toward the bridge we had to monitor our individual progress according to the group as a whole. The wind exacerbates the problems of keeping a group together and increases the importance of keeping the group together. The wind makes slower paddlers slower, makes faster paddlers less likely to look behind them, and makes communication even more difficult.
About 3/4 of the way to the Jamestown Bridge, we spotted two kayaks crossing the channel from Jamestown to the mainland shore. It looked like Joe and JS, but we didn't think it could be them. They left the beach as a threesome that included Larry. Once they approached we learned that Larry had turned back and they had let him go it alone. Without knowing any of the details, we all immediately questioned the soundness of the call. It was not how we usually operate and it was definitely out of character for Joe. He typically works very hard to keep the group together.
(As I found out later, the whole thing was the result of a breakdown in communication. Larry had fallen behind and decided to turn back. He told JS, who was fishing, and split. By the time JS had rejoined Joe and communicated Larry's decision, it was too late to do anything. Larry was either safely back on the beach or being blown out to sea.)
I stopped the group just before we reached the bridge to see how people felt. There was a reasonably protected beach for lunch or resting, so if the group was looking to rest it was a perfect spot. I was also thinking that it would be good turn around point instead of going all the way to Rome Point.
Paddling under the bridge is always tricky because things get choppy and the wind is funneled straight under the bridge. Once under the bridge, we'd loose any wind protection until we reached Rome Point. H hadn't been in her kayak much this fall. DV was paddling an unfamiliar kayak. The wind was more than any of us had anticipated.
I could have simply called lunch. This was a level two paddle and we were already beyond level two conditions. I could have also decided that since we were already in level three conditions, we would complete the mission and paddle straight to Rome Point. Instead, I opted for taking a vote. As with the vote on the beach, nobody had a strong opinion, but generally felt like sticking to the original plan.
So, we continued onward.
Once under the bridge, the wind slammed into us. It didn't take long for people to get worn down. About halfway between the bridge and Rome Point, DV asked if we could stop. His back was beginning to bother him and he didn't want to push it much more. Others were happy to oblige. Someone did mention that Rome Point was just a little further. The group, however, stopped for lunch and decided that from lunch we'd head back to Bay Campus.
Joe and JS once again split with the group after lunch. They planned to head up to Rome Point and see if they could find any more fish.
The rest of us got on the water in pods. While people were launching I paddled up to TM and said "lighthouse" and he smiled. From the shore it didn't look like the conditions over by the lighthouse were bad. If either of us had used our brains, we'd have known what it was really like between us and the lighthouse - unpredictable, big chop, and a strong, beamy wind.
H was one of the last people on the water and I rafted up with her to mop some of the water out of the Q-Boat. While we were drying out my cockpit, the rest of the group headed out to the lighthouse....
After I got the water out of the Q-Boat, H and I turned to rejoin the group or what was left of it. I could see a pod of kayaks about halfway to the lighthouse and few other kayaks closer to the lighthouse. Since I thought the group was going to the lighthouse, we pushed down along the bridge. Conditions were what H calls the "washing machine". The chop was big and coming from all directions. It was not ideal, but neither was getting separated from the group. I insisted on rejoining the group since we could manage the chop.
H, on the other hand, wanted to slip under the bridge and get out of the chop. She spotted half of the group on the southern side of the bridge parked near the shore. She repeatedly tried telling me about the others.
I could not hear her, so I continued pushing towards the lighthouse and the kayaks I could see.
Finally, she caught my attention and pointed out the rest the group. Once I saw that there was part of the group in calm water, I knew the right thing to do. We turned and paddled under the bridge.
There was still a scattered group out in the center of the channel, so I wanted to make sure they were OK. My first priority, however, was getting H to the safety of the group. She, however, had also seen the stray group and noticed that one of the kayaks was capsized.
"There is someone in the water," she told me. "I'm fine, you go help."
I raced out the rescue sight. TM was heading over to a nearby fishing boat to ask them for assistance. BH had a hold of DV and his capsized kayak. PB was stabilizing BH. There were paddles floating all over the place.
I collected the paddles while BH attempted to put DV back in his kayak. The conditions were making the rescue hard and DV was making it even harder. He didn't seem to have the strength to get himself back in the kayak. At one point he just quit and wanted to get a ride home in the nearby fishing boat. Eventually, after TM and BH told him it would be harder to get him into the fishing boat, he managed to get back in his kayak.
Since he had so much trouble getting in the kayak, we decided that it would be best if DV was towed for awhile. BH, since he was already stabilizing DV's kayak, would stabilize DV while under tow.
Since I had my tow belt on and was in the best position, I hooked the two kayaks up - I snaked my tow line under the BH's inside dock line, then under the inside of DV's front deck line, and then hooked the tow line together to make a lasso. Towing two kayaks is a bitch. At first I wasn't sure I could get enough power using the mighty stick and considered asking TM to get my spare Lendal off my back deck. However, I didn't relish the idea of starting from a dead stop again. Once I got a rhythm going, things got easier. Then PB, who had borrowed BH's tow belt, hooked onto the front of the Q-Boat. That made towing much easier.
After what seemed like an eternity, we got close to the shore and managed to catch up with the rest of the group. DV was feeling better, so we dismanteled the tow. Once free of the tow, DV took off for home. TM, who may have been the only one capable of matching his pace, followed. H decided to stick with TM as a back-up.
The rest of us wended our way back to Bay Campus and prepared for what promised to be a serious debriefing. CC was upset that we had even tried to paddle to the lighthouse given the conditions. LB was upset that she had been left alone for a period of time in the rough water. H was upset that I had made her attempt to paddle into the middle of the channel. The boys were upset because we had made some bad judgment calls. Everyone was upset that Larry's fate was unknown.
Once safely on the Bay Campus beach, we debriefed. Post-paddle debriefs are one of the best learning experiences and this one was no different. Nothing got solved and no blame was laid. We did learn that communication needs to be better, that level two trips need a strong hand when it comes to making decisions about when to stop, that your group is only as strong as its weakest paddler, and that when conditions are tough everything is harder and more important. Maybe benevolent dictatorship is not always a bad idea...
Fortunately, everyone ended the day healthy and wiser. A bad day on the water is better than a good day at the office....