Coordinating and Picking Paddlers

A post on the RICKA message board got me thinking about if it is appropriate to tell paddlers when they cannot paddle. I personally think that it is appropriate for a person posting a show and go paddle to set expectations for the skill level that is required to participate in the paddle. If I had my drothers, it would be required. An "official" paddle does not get put on the schedule with a level rating.
The difference between a level rating and what usually gets added to a show and go posting is that a level rating describes the trip's difficulty and show and go postings usually describe the paddler's skills. Both are intended to help a paddler decide if the paddle is appropriate for them. However, making statements about the skills paddlers are expected to have smacks of elitism and judgement.
Elitism is poison to a club. It is a well established custom that RICKA paddles are open to all comers and coordinators do not turn participants away. This helps build club membership. It also helps paddlers grow. It also allows a sense of democracy to flourish in the club.
While I understand the reasoning behind it, I'm not a big fan of this custom. It puts a coordinator in the awkward position of either taking paddlers into conditions they are not prepared for or to change a trip to accomodate a weak paddler. It puts the coordinator in a compromised position before leaving the beach. Toning a paddle down for one paddler is not fair to the others on the trip who are expecting certain conditions. It is also not fair to the paddler allowed to participate. It gives them a false sense of their skills.
TM was saying that the coaches at Sea Kayak Georgia's position on this is that the trip leader has the final say on who gets to participate. The leader is the authority from the time paddlers show up on the beach to the time the kayaks are back on the cars.
While I think this draconian approach is the safest approach, it is not realistic for an American paddling club. Very few would be willing to accept the needed level of authority and the associated liability. Even if coordinators did start assuming this authority other paddlers would grow resentful.
How can coordinators find the middle ground? As I said earlier in the post I think people leading a show and go paddle should be upfront about the expected difficulty of the paddle they plan on running. They should be careful not to sound judgmental about people's skills, but they should be firm. They probably need to be prepared to accept that some paddlers on the edge of the envelope will be on the trip and plan accordingly. However, coordinators should turn away people who are clearly incapable of handling the expected conditions.

Rocks and Surf

By Wednesday, it was clear that the weekend weather was going to be perfect for fall outdoor fun. JS posted a surfing paddle for Sunday, but I was hoping for a more traditional paddle. Fortunately, CR couldn't paddle on Sunday and posted a Sakonnet Point paddle for Saturday. Sakonnet Point paddles are usually a combination of rock gardening, blue water paddling, and surfing.
Saturday was the cooler of the two days. It was the first time this year my car had frost on it in the morning. The temperature was supposed to climb throughout the day and the wind was supposed to be minimal. Still, it was cold at the put in.
There was never a question that it was dry suit weather. The only question was how much to wear under the dry suit. I had brought along flannels pants and a pair of fleece pants for the bottom and a collection of long sleeve tops. I opted to go with just the flannel pants and two layers on top. I figured I'd generate plenty of body heat in the morning and as the temperature increased during the day I'd be cool enough. Just in case I packed all the other clothes in the kayak.
We paddled out of the harbor and towards the lighthouse. The seas were a little choppy and promised some nice rock gardening.
After rounding the lighthouse we headed over to the islands to find rocks to dodge. The outside of the islands did not disappoint. The waves were big enough to make things look big and had enough force to make paddling a challenge. There were a few spots that were down right crazy, but for the most part everything was well within our range.
For some reason people did not want to paddle to the mainland to have lunch on a sandy beach. Instead we found a slippery, jumble of rocks to on which to park our kayaks. There was a nice spot to eat, if you could survive the landing and the journey up the "beach." The only plus to the lunch spot was that there was shelter from the wind.
After lunch, the group split up. JS and CM needed to head back early. The rest of the group decided to retrace our steps and take another shot at the rocks along the outside of the islands. The wind and swells had picked up a little, but things were not quite as good on the return trip.
The ride back up the river to the harbor was a blast. The wind had picked up and there was a steady march of wind driven waves marching up river. We surfed the whole way back.
We had a great day on the water. I was more tired than I expected, but rock gardening and surfing are more tiring than open water paddling. This paddle ranks up there as one of the best paddles of the year.

Wind Meets Current and Surfing Ensues

This weekend was one of the big current weekends, so BH was chomping at the bit to play in any tidal races that appeared. Saturday had the added bonus of high winds that would run counter to the currents at least once. Strong wind vs. strong current = standing waves!!
BH really wanted to play at the Charlestown breech way. The wind and current profiles looked perfect for some mayhem. The ocean forecast called for some good sized swells multiply the mayhem. In order to play at the mouth of the breech way safely he wanted at least four paddlers. The mouth of the breech way is narrow and flanked by shallow rocks. The current would wash a swimmer into deeper water, but the wind would push them into the rocks.
As of Friday night, nobody had committed to the breech way plan. I was waiting to see what TM would do since he is the most familiar with the area (and in many ways is may paddling safety blanket). I was also a little concerned that conditions at the breech way would be more than our group was prepared to handle. TM was not planning on paddling since he had spent the last week in Georgia at Sea Kayak Georgia and wanted to spend some quality time with his family.
Since nobody wanted to commit to the breech way, BH proposed plan B: Stone Bridge.
Stone Bridge would be running out in the morning. With the wind pushing against the current, it promised to offer a nicely formed tidal race. Since Stone Bridge offers easy access, plenty of clear water for rescues, and quick exits from the water, we could play hard.
The only downside was the timing. Things were forecast to be at their best between 9am and 11am. That meant getting to Tiverton by 8:30am. That meant leaving Waltham at 7am. That meant getting the kayak on the egg Friday night before it started to rain.
We had a small, but well formed group Saturday morning. We started off with 5 paddlers: BH, PB, JS, CR, and myself.
We took our time getting on the water. At 8:30 things looked pretty calm. By 9am the race was starting to rock and we had all the kayaks in the water.
At first people rushed for the top of the race near the buoys. It looked like a good spot, but JS and I found ourselves at the end of the race. The waves at the tail of the race were pretty good as well. In fact, I think they were more regular. I caught plenty of good rides as I moved up the race.
A piece of advice from the death paddle in Fisher Island Sound came in very handy. One of the British coaches talked about timing waves by waiting for the wave in front of your kayak to start lifting the bow. Once the bow starts lifting, you hit it and catch the wave behind you.
It works amazingly well. I was able to catch most of the waves I wanted to surf using this advice.
I also learned another valuable lesson on the death paddle: use the stick. Despite this being a surf session, I used the mighty stick. I can brace, rudder, and roll just as well with the stick as I can with a lollipop. The only advantage of the lollipop is the bit of initial oomf. The familiarity and comfort of using the stick far outweighs the oomf. I'll continue to switch off and use a lollipop every now and then because I think it helps me be a well rounded paddler, but I'm a stick monkey.
We spent a couple of hours riding the race. I caught a ton of good rides. The most fun were the rides the ones where I nearly stalled out on the back of a wave, but just as the hull started to flounder I pushed the bow over the crest. With a quick transition the bow dropped down and the hull rushed forward.
We did take a short break to help a feckless sailor get his boat out of the water. He tried to take out at the public beach flanking Stone Bridge. The wet sand and lapping waves conspired to trap his boat and his truck. We all helped heave the sailboat onto the trailer where it had a chance of draining. Then, our good deed done, we went back to playing.
Sadly, CR tweaked her back and was forced to call it a day early. Hopefully, she recovers quickly.
The conditions made the early wake up call worth it. It is a rare and wonderful thing when the weather and tides conspire to make a playground for crazy kayakers.

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.

When is the Paddle is too Big for the Paddler

There has been a lot of discussion in our club over the last season about how to deal with paddlers who show up for paddles that are at the very limit of their abilities and endurance. There have been a few times where the conditions have taken unpredictable turns for the worse and turned a paddle that was a stretch for one or more paddlers into paddles that were more than they could safely handle. There have also been a few paddles where paddlers that were slow showed up where the majority of the group were fast.
It is one of the perennial problems with open club paddles. Sometimes the people who show up to paddle are not the people best suited to the trip as planned. Sometimes you get people along for whom the trip is at the upper edge of their skills or endurance. It is not always fun or fair, but it is up to the trip coordinators to either tell the inappropriate people to stay on the beach, change the plan, or deal with any issues as the arise.
Personally, I think the least good solution is telling people to stay on the beach. I know of many paddles that I should have sat out in my first few seasons. If had not been allowed to participate, I would not have grown as a paddler or I would have found a club that was more friendly. There are clear trip levels posted that are designed to help paddlers make wise choices. When a paddler starts showing up for a lot of inappropriate paddles, it is appropriate for someone in a leadership position to gently help them see that they are making poor choices. That approach should be the exception and not the rule and should only be handled by club leadership.
If paddlers want to do particular paddles and be able to set the tone and level of the paddle precisely, they should coordinate paddles outside of the club framework. Then they can have control over who knows about the trip and who gets to participate. If a paddle is coordinated through the club framework, it is a club paddle and the coordinators should be prepared to deal with any and all paddlers.