Golden Gate Sea Kayak Symposium 2011. The Bad.

Nothing is perfect.

Except maybe for this one wave I caught a while ago that was so nice it convinced me to really try surf kayaking (thanks Buck). That might have been perfect.

So except for maybe that wave, nothing is perfect.

Except maybe for this dinner I cooked after a 20 mile day in the San Juans when the sun was shining, there was a gentle breeze, and it wasn't too hot. That might have been perfect.

So, except for maybe that wave and maybe that dinner, nothing is perfect.

Including the GGSKS. I want to be really, really clear here. Some of the best education and fun dollars I've spent have gone to the GGSKS. It's pretty excellent. But it's not perfect and that's what I'm here to talk about. Because there's no point in talking about how good something is, like I did in my last post, without talking about how it might be better. I say might of course because I'm just me. No doubt others would have a different set of things to improve or, indeed, others would call it perfect. It is equally pointless, I think, to talk about what's bad about something without also offering some suggestions on how to make it better. This isn't American politics here, there is an actual intention to make some progress, so just throwing stones is insufficient for my purposes.

The Hostel

The "official" lodging of the symposium is The Marin Headlands Hostel. It's where the coaches stay and many, maybe most, of the students stay. One is not required to stay there of course, but if you don't you're missing some of the best bits of the symposium. At turns the hostel is excellent and terrible.

It's excellent in that everyone(ish) is there. You can run into Nigel Dennis, or  Freya Hoffmeister (last year), or Shawna Franklin, or Sean Morley, all of those accomplished types. It's kayak immersion. The good kind of immersion, not the upside-down-in-cold-water kind.

It's terrible in that the snoring is a real problem. At least for me and, I know, a few others. In the hostel there are no private rooms. The smallest room has 4 beds and you just have to share. If someone in the room snores, and you're a light sleeper, you're pretty much screwed. Sleeping is not one of my strong suits so this is rather an issue for me.

I don't know what the solution to the hostel "problem" is. I know Sean and Matt are intent on making the symposium an excellent value and still in financial reach of the most number of people, so moving everyone to the Cavallo Point Lodge would be awesome but at a few hundred dollars a night, impractical. Nevertheless, I loath and love the hostel and would be happy to be elsewhere.

Class Sizes

Last year I took a class that had 24 students in it. 24! That's just too many I think. I have to say I think it was well handled by the coaches who split the class into 3 8's, and then rotated those groups through each coach. And I get the idea that the organizers don't want to tell folks who have signed up for a class they can't take it. But I think this is actually not a good thing.

For myself I wish the symposium would limit classes sizes to N students, filled on a first come first served basis and that's it. I know some people would be disappointed by not getting a chance to, say, work with such and so coach from far-far-away. On the other hand folks who signed up would be certain to work with said coach from far-far-away. I lucked out when I ended up with Tom Bergh on day 3, but I had signed up because of Nigel. In the end I wasn't disappointed at all, but at the moment when I decided it was too crowded I was a little distressed.

Who's teaching this?

At the end of day 3 I was putting my gear away and a student I was in a class with on day 1 was in parking space next to me doing the same. Unbidden she asked how my day was, which prompted me to ask about hers, 'cause it's the symposium and rain be damned it's awesome to be so kayaky and let's talk more about kayaking so, yah, how the hell was your day, mine rocked. Know what I mean?

And she complained, bitterly, about how she had signed up to work with such and so coach and that coach was taken away and the class was run by another coach and the same thing had happened the day before and I didn't spend this much money to be working with that coach and to do this stuff and...she was fucking mad.

I think that there are three basic ways to handle this. Option one, don't change coaches if you tell students which coach is teaching what class (excepting injury or illness or stuff like that. Within reason, you know). Option two,  if you change a coach, offer students a chance to pick another class. I can tell you that some students really don't like some instructors (more later) so this just ends up being a courtesy. Option three is to not tell students who is teaching what until the day of the class.

Option three is probably easiest for the organizers but perhaps worst for the students. I get this is a hard problem, and I completely understand the organizers have (probably) good reasons for moving coaches around after people have signed up for a class, but it's a big deal when they do that. That's a heads up for organizers.

Hobnobbing

Getting a chance to talk to the accomplished folks (see above) should be institutionalized. I got to talk to Nigel Dennis because I had friends who knew him professionally and introduced me. Without such an introduction it's difficult, I think, to start a conversation with folks who are, in fact, total strangers. Understand I don't think a single instructor at the symposium was anything but willing to talk. Nevertheless it is the case that, at least for some people (like, say, me), interrupting a famous person like, say, Sean Morley in the middle of a conversation is something of a challenge.

Leon and Shawna (Body Boat Blade) ran a symposium years ago and tell me that coaches there were not allowed to sit together at dinner. They had to sit, by themselves I believe, at a table and the rest of the table was filled with students. This is, I think, a great way to get a decent amount of off the water time in a social setting with a professional paddler. Very immersive. The good immersive of course.

So I think those are the big things. More was "bad" to be sure. Hanging stuff to dry was something of a pain for example. But, on the whole, I think the other bads were pretty trivial and easily overcome.

One other bad thing I guess I should mention though. I was sitting in my boat, a Romany. Nigel is next to me looking me up and down for a second. I looked at him and he says, very nicely, "You should try a Romany Surf Rick. That looks to be riding a little low". I quit smoking several months ago and have gained a few 10s of pounds. That's bad. The solution is more time paddling I think.

Next post, the ugly. And it's gonna be ugly.