Fascinating

Some folks in the Netherlands got into some trouble and took the time to do a post mortem on the trip. Here's a link the the .PDF. It's 20 pages but just a great and worthwhile read.

The politics of paddles

I mentioned in my last post that a bunch of folks in my club went around Pt. Pinos. One thing occurred that illustrates, I think, one of the difficulties of paddling in a group of peers.

On the way back one of the paddlers decided to go inside. To be sure he asked if it would be alright so huge props for that. It wasn't a big day out by any means but still the coast is the coast and waves big enough to cause a serious hurt were breaking. I wasn't the trip leader but I did say something like, "I'm not sure I can get in to help you if something goes wrong", which was mostly true. I mean, depending on where something happened, I could probably have made my way in and gotten a tow line on or something.  

Now, there were others in the group. I won't say I was the most skilled in the group, because I wasn't, but I think I was pretty representative of aggregate skill level of the group as a whole. Perhaps John, or Amnon had confidence they could get in to help in case of problems, I dunno, I didn't ask. One thing is pretty certain though, the amount of resources available to render assistance was not proportional to the number in the group.

Right, so in he goes. We all of us stayed outside paddling along. Periodically we'd lose sight of him. At one point we lost him for perhaps two minutes or so in what proved to be the most dramatic portion of his inside run right at the point, a clear violation of pretty much all aspects of CLAP. And that's pretty much the story. As usual (but not always) nothing happened. He had a grand time, nobody got hurt, radios and tow belts were not deployed, and everyone returned home happy.

Someone who spends a lot (a lot) of time on the water once told me, "when you're on the water as much as we are, anything that can happen does happen" and then proceeded to tell me about the time someones shoelace got hooked on a foot peg while they were upside down, and how somebody else got their PFD got hooked onto a back deck cleat (while they were upside down), boomers stripping decks and PFD pockets, heart attacks, and rather a litany of incidents and issues. And I've really taken that to heart. I'm very, very safety conscious on the water. First because I don't want to get hurt or killed, second because I don't want to see anyone get hurt or killed and, third, because I think it's ones responsibility to not have to call in help because they might get hurt or killed. (That might sound a little maudlin but I'm not a doom and gloom guy. Honest.)

Which leads me to the point of my little story here. Had this been, say, a paid excursion or some other event where I was "in charge" I would have said no to the guy going inside. I deemed it unsafe or, more specifically, too risky. In a club paddle though that sort of hierarchy doesn't really exist. It's not terribly easy to say no to something like this, even when you're the trip leader. Perhaps you don't want to seem paranoid, or not fun loving, or a wimp, or whatever. The whole duty of care thing suddenly comes under attack by a bunch of other human constraints. And that happens a whole lot on club paddles in a variety of forms. Groups get widely dispersed, people lose sight of others, folks have inadequate equipment or skills for what they're doing, and like that. I guess that's entirely normal and, like I said, usually it works out fine.

But every time I see something like that all I hear is, "anything that can happen does happen".

Around Pt. Pinos

Someone folks in my club organized a trip around Pt. Pinos (southern point of Monterey Bay). 11 of us ended up going for what turned out to be an entirely civilized trip. Actually it was perhaps the lowest key paddle I've ever been on.

I am never, ever, up front in any group I paddle with. I don't know why but I always seem to lag a bit and am generally the slowest. Yesterday though I was up front pretty much the entire time on the water. So, as I say, low key. Everyone was just cruising gently along seemingly without too much interest in anything but being on the water.

Predicted winds of something like 20 - 25 kts (depending on which forecast you read) totally didn't happen. It was certainly less than 10, maybe 7 or so. Swell was also a really low key 3's, with some occasional 5's. We only went probably 9 miles or so total with a lunch break in the middle.

Hey, here's some pictures:

Normal confusion at the put in.  There were 4 Romanys, a record for us I think. Sorry for the splotch in the middle.

Grouping up right off the beach. Kelp, kelp, kelp. Terribly annoying stuff. Notice though the blue skys and the fog in the distance.

And here we are in the fog in the distance. Those rocks right there are Pt. Pinos by the way.

This is a crappy picture but this is us heading for a beach for lunch. The beach is right on the 17 mile drive and we were, I dunno, half a mile off shore. See that building in the distance there? The one that looks like a hotel or a resort or something? It's a house. A single family residence. The place is full of that sort of ostentation. Oh yah, fogs gone. See?

Our lunch beach. More of those houses in the background. Nice beach though. Someone said it was called Dead Man's Beach or Death Beach or something like that. I think they might have been joking though.

Inside the kelp line about a mile or so off shore. That big assed building there on the right? The one that looks like a resort? It is a resort. The whole line of buildings is. It's called the Inn at Spanish Bay or something like that. Excellent scotch menu.

That's it.

Why am I doing this again?

I'm heading out in a few weeks to take a BCU Coach Level 1 class. I'm not sure why. I'm not really big into certification, at least not in my professional life, but I will admit I like the BCU system. I got into it (slowly, oh so slowly) a few years ago because I'm inherently lazy. After looking at the star awards I decided that following their progression would save me from having to think too much about what I would have to do to improve my skills. Just follow the BCU yellow brick road and, eventually, Oz. And more or less that's been true. I mean I still had/have to think a bit, but I got throguh the various control strokes, got my bracing and a roll that I'm sort-of-but-only-kinda confident in, and like that.

The coaching thing though is another story. The fact is the BCU is a pretty anemic organization here in the US and that makes it profoundly difficult to actually stick with the system unless you pretty much devote a lot of effort to traveling fairly large distances to work with other BCU coaches. See, essentially, the coaching scheme is a mentoring thing. For example as a level 1 coach (assuming I make it) I'm really supposed to be working under the direction of a higher level coach. Where I live there are basically no BCU coaches so, if I am to follow the progression strictly and work within the remits of my level, I would have to travel somewhere to find someone to work with. Not to say there aren't good instructors around here, just that the BCU scheme has it's own vernacular and ways of doing things. Working under a non-BCU person wouldn't help me terribly much. Sort of like learning Java (programming language) but then working with a C++ guy.

I did look at the ACA of course. There's a boat load of ACA folks around here. But I have to say I find the ACA system rather slap-dash. For example I was spelunking the net the other day and ran across a blog where a bunch of people got there ACA level 3 coastal instructor certs. On a lake. Not a Great lake. Just a small tiny lake. Ocean conditions were simulated by using the wakes from wave skis.

Now stop for a second and read that paragraph again.

No, you didn't. Read it again.

Right, so let's review:

• Level 3 COASTAL instructor certification. There are only 5 levels.
• On a lake. I've been on the ocean a few times. I've been on lakes lots of times. I have always (always) found them to be very different environments.
• 
  
  
  Using wave ski wakes to simulate ocean conditions. I've ridden over quite a few wakes, from all sorts of craft. I'm gonna have to go with really different than the ocean again.

I mean, really, what does that even mean, "coastal" if I can get certified as a mid-level coastal instructor on a lake with wakes? Speaking for myself I couldn't feel proud of that. Clearly this may be an certifier issue. You know one guy phoning it in or adhering to the letter of the cert but not the spirit. But, fuck me, really? A lake? Doesn't anyone in the ACA check up on this stuff? Apparently not. And if not, I have to ask, why not? Don't they care? Are they so ignorant of human nature that they're confident nobody will abuse the system and thus devalue it to the point of useless. Hell, worse than useless. Misleading? Misrepresenting? I dunno, but it feels bad man.

See, the real problem I'm having with this is that it puts the burden of valuing the cert on the consumer of the cert, be it student or co-instructor. Suppose I'm looking for an instructor. I have in front of me two level 3 ACA instructors to choose from. To make an informed choice as to who is more skillful or qualified or whatever I have to know a bunch of things. That there's a lot of wiggle room in that cert. Did you get yours on a lake or in the ocean? Even on the ocean, what kind of day was it? Flat calm can happen on the ocean too. And if I'm co-instructing with a level 3 person I'm in a worse position. I would essentially have to question someones skills but without the benefit of being a paying customer. Awkward no?

And, finally in this now rant, there's no way I want to be part of a system where, maybe, I work my ass off, with the best of intentions, adhering to the spirit of the curriculum and then get compared to some schmuck who found an easy certifier and kind of sucks. Or have to justify my creds because of someone like that.

Which leads me all the way back to why am I doing this BCU thing? Frankly I don't see a way forward in the system for me. Not easily anyway. But at least, if I do keep going, my creds are gonna mean something. Objectively mean something. Still, I'm stuck with a couple of entirely non-optimal choices and that sucks. I'll just have to see what happens I guess.

Phone calls from unknown numbers

In broad terms I hate my telephone. Well, it gets email, and does some other things so really I only hate the phone part of my phone. Excepting a couple of Luddite friends (you know who you are), if you can't send email I probably don't want to talk to you. I have kids and happen to work closer to home than my wife, so they have my phone number which means I can't turn it off. And that leads me to my version of a little kayakie/paddley story that is almost trite it's been told so many times.

I bought a new drysuit several weeks ago. It's a Kokatat GFER and I was replacing my Kokatat Meridian. The basic difference is the Meridian has a waste band that goes over the tunnel of a spray deck, ostensibly to keep out water, whereas the GFER doesn't. My Meridian was in fine condition but I was pretty much done with the waste band thing. It made the suit a little harder to put on, and it took quite a while for the area under the waste band to dry. I had occasion to try the GFER for a few days, loved it and bought one.

Anyway, my Meridian was in more or less fine shape given it's age of a few years (I do try to take care of my gear) and I had planned to sell it. Before that I wanted Kokatat to check it out, replace the gaskets for me and generally give it a clean bill of health before I did. So I called them, they gave me a price and an RA number and I sent it off. I didn't think much about it after that, they had told me it would be two or so weeks because of their backlog.

Last week my damned phone rang. Of course it was in my pocket so I had to stop working (I type for a living), dig it out of my pocket only to see that some number with, for me, an odd area code was trying to get ahold of me. I hit the go-away-or-send-email button to make the phone shut up and went back to typing.

Now, it is a fact that I suck at many, many things. Golf. Rational discourse when drunk. Getting up in the morning. Lots of stuff. But, if I got to pick, I'd have to say I suck most at dealing with voice mail. I won't rant about how truly evil I think voicemail is, but I hate it in the same way a 2 year old hates peas. Its irrational and annoying, but what're you going to do? So I can go days, sometimes many days, without checking voicemail. That day though I only waited a few hours before I did. Maybe I was just in the mood for greens, I dunno.

Turns out it was someone from Kokatat calling about my drysuit that was in for repair, and mumbling (because that's all you get on voicemail, mumbles and a string of 7 digits) about some warranty issue. So I call back the next day, a human answers(!) and connects me with the guy who called. Took like 18 seconds or so and I'm talking to the actual guy who left me the voicemail who I was suddenly feeling a little better about. Email would have been better, but this didn't entirely suck either. Right...deep breath...and this guy informs me that the Gore-Tex inside my dry suit was delaminating or something. And, before I could get a breath to whine, "but it's not my fault", he says, "but it's not your fault". Speechless is another thing I suck at but right then I was actually doing a pretty dandy job of it. Then voicemail guy goes on to say, "what we'd like to do is replace it". Now I'm really in the whole speechless groove, sort of reveling in my new found lack of suckitude in this regard when he hits me with, "at no cost to you". Further words were exchanged but, frankly, I don't really recall what they were.

I've heard this same story about Kokatat a bunch of times. On the web, on a beach, all over. But it always sort of struck me like hearing a Bigfoot story or something and treated it like that. Smile and nod, take a step or two back, whatever, just don't antagonize the crazy and cause a violent response. You know. But, take it from me, it's true. Kokatat has real customer service and backs their (expensive as hell, let's face it) product to the hilt.

By way of closure here I still hate my phone. And I still really hate voice mail. But I will be checking it in a slightly more timely fasion from now on. Probably. I still prefer email.

Just one last piece of gear

I don't think there is much that I enjoy more than being on the water. Paddling. I prefer going from place to place, covering miles, rather than, say, playing in a race or surfing but pretty much any paddling is better than pretty much anything else.

That said I am getting sick of moving my boat. It's a Romany so about 16 feet long. Which is short in the grand scheme of things I know. And it's a glass boat so it's probably a little lighter than a plastic boat of the same dimensions. But still, getting it on the car to get to the put in, taking it off, putting it back on, and taking it off one more time for a day of paddling is pretty tedious. Since I paddle mostly by myself (another story) it's also a touch uncomfortable. Essentially I take 54lbs, concentrate it into an area about 2 inches wide and, I dunno, 4 inches long and hang it on my shoulder. You know. And then it's just the unweildyness (<- made up word) of the damn thing. Take 8 feet of anything and put it in front and in back of you and of course you're going to bump a few things.

Generally I have really good equipment. Kokatat drysuit and PFD, Werner paddles, etc. Indeed, having good equipment is part of my nervous-on-the-water mantra (also another story). But for this, moving my boat around, I have basically me. Like I guess most sea paddlers I'm not exactly young, which means I'm probably moving further from being good equipment into more well loved equipment territory. And so I think I need an upgrade in the boat moving equipment department. 

I've looked around and can't really find anything that I like. There's the hullivator things, but they take up too much room on the roof of my car to be practical. Even if I did want one that really only solves half the problem. I'd have to get something like a set of wheels. But those look like a giant pain in the ass. First off I think I'd have to get the ones with the giant balloon wheels so I can get across a beach if need bet. Second, storing them would really annoying once I got to the water. Third I still have to tie the boat onto the wheels, which means straps and stuff, and I'm sort of sick of my straps too.

So, having scanned current market offerings, and on the off chance someone is reading this, here's basically what I think would do the job.

That's a gnome and I think a couple of them would be ideal for what I'm talking about. Maybe three. They're about 3 feet tall but are, according to some sources, 7 times stronger than a human (look it up). Which is awesome because they'd be really easy to store and could easily pick up my boat, maybe even if it was fully loaded. Now the one pictured is clearly prototypical. It's not wearing waterproof boots or anything, so that would have to be changed. I don't think it would need a dry or wet suit because, really, I just want help when I'm on land, so that would tend to keep cost of manufacture/whatever down. And possibly it could do other things besides tote my boat, like maybe take out the garbage or drive my kids to school or something.

Anyway, if you're in the paddle sport accessory biz, think about it. I'll convey any rights you'd like for my idea here. After all I'm not interested in money, I'm just interested in a better overall paddling experience.

Treat everyone like children

I'm on what seems to be a never ending quest to suck less as a paddler. That means I try to take a few classes each year. And in every class I try to learn one thing. So I was in a class in San Juans a few weeks ago. It was supposed to be a paddling in currents type class, but the big thing I learned ended up having nothing to do with that.

Another student and I were futzing about near the front of a pretty nice race. For some reason I looked to my right and watch as the other guys boat gets pushed to the left and he starts surfing right at me. Kinda quickly. Actually pretty fast. Alright, maybe not that fast, but at the time it seemed fast. So the etiquette of the circumstance (i.e. you're going to run someone over) is that you take the noble path and capsize. You know, so you stop. And don't break anyones ribs. So I'm watching this boat head right at me, quickly (yah, quickly. I'll settle on quickly), remarkably calm about the whole soon-to-need-an-airlift event unfolding waiting for the other guys chivalry to kick in and his boat to go upside down (as an aside, waiting for chivalry takes subjectively a very long time). Closer. Soon. Closer. No, really, soon. Closer. Soon. Please? Closer. Fuck, chivalry is dead. I capsize myself.

So I'm upside down. I just hung out for maybe, what, 18 minutes or so, waiting waiting for the other guys boat to run over me. That big clunk sound never comes though. Whatever, it's been, what, 18 minutes so I should probably roll up. I do my setup bit, start sweeping the paddle and clunk. I hit a boat. Not mine. Alright, let's try again. Clunk. Again. Clunk. Hmm. His boat must be on top of me or something. At this point though I've been a low oxygen environment for, what, 18 minutes or so, and I kinda need to breath a bit. Just to take the edge off. So I bailed.

It turns out that if I'm upside down in cold water for any length of time I get a little disoriented. Not terribly bad, but a little dizzy and it takes me a few seconds to get my bearings. So I'm swimming, a little out of it, and the other guys starts a rescue. Which is good. But he was being kind of polite about the whole thing. Me, being a little out of it, I don't help the way I normally do. Like he had ahold of my boat and I just stayed where I was instead of going to his boat. Finally he says, very nicely I thought, "Can you come to my boat?". Which I do. He does a few other things and starts handing me my bow so I can crawl along the deck lines and get back in. I'm not sure why, but I just sort of stared at the front of my boat until he asked, very nicely I thought, "Can you crawl along your deck lines?". Which I do. But by this point we're pretty far along in the race and here comes the coach. I won't bore you with the details, but in this race there is a real point of no return. And the coach knows this. So I'm in my boat, and I've started paying real attention to what's happening right now (as opposed to figuring out why I kept hitting the other guys boat) and realize my cockpit is entirely full. In a race. With, I dunno, 2 foot breaking waves. It was pretty rough. I announce that I can't paddle my boat full in these conditions. The coach apparently decides it's time to get seriously involved and starts giving orders. You! Go to the eddy. Rick! Get out of your boat. Come to my boat. Etc. Not very nicely I thought. But in about 45 seconds I'm back in my mostly empty boat, deck on, paddling for the eddy.

When someone swims they're no longer your friend, or partner, or fellow student, or anything like that. No, when someone swims they're your responsibility. Sort of like having a kid. Sometimes you take time to explain things, answer questions, you know. Sometimes though you're not. Don't run into the street for example. Orders first, explanation later. But in the moment there is no suggestion that now is the time to negotiate or you're going to be respectful.

And that's what I learned. Treat swimmers like kids running into the street. So if You happen to swim, and I happen to be the hero, don't be surprised if I treat you like a child. At least for a short while.

Second blog, first post

Some friends of mine have, for reasons that I don't understand, encouraged me to start a blog related to paddling. Here we go.

This is my second blog. The first one was programming related. Because that's what I do for a living, write software. I had to stop with that blog because I became non-self employed and I wasn't too sure being entirely frank was really a good idea. When I got back out on my own I just didn't have it in me to write about programming again. Oh well.

Right, so this blog is about paddling. Or what I think about paddling. Or what others think about paddling. Or something like that. I'm not sure this is gonna be a good idea after all.