Old Man Winter Hates Sea Kayakers

I look out the window to see the snow blowing almost horizontally, streaking through the light of a corner street lamp. The snow is piling up at a rapid pace as it has for the last four hours or so.

"Man!" I think to myself. "I hope this storm doesn't fizzle out before morning. "Just then the phone rings and breaks me out of my snow driven state of hypnosis.

"Hey Mike, this is Desmond." (Desmond Harrington now is Urban Eskimo in the San Francisco Area.) "Looks like the storm is going to be increasing to blizzard stage, with 50 to 60 mph winds and all kinds of snow, straight through tomorrow, are you all set to go?"

"You bet your ass. My kayak is already loaded on the truck, gear is packed, I'll see you in morning." Judging this conversation, it would sound like a couple of guys getting ready for an exciting ski trip, and although the excitement was the same, this was going to be a sea kayaking adventure.

Desmond and I have been paddling together for eight or nine years and had practiced and developed our Urban Eskimo Training methods through the winter seasons. To us, learning and practicing our safety and rescue skills through the dead of winter would make us much more proficient at any other time of year. With the increased intimidation factor of cold winter water and hard relentless winds, we learned how to speed up our rescue times and modify techniques to be more efficient. We soon found that there were many lessons to be learned from old man winter. So when we decided to paddle through the blizzard, we were definitely expecting to see some interesting results from the predicted conditions.

It was about 8:00 am when I arrived at Desmond's apartment where we had some hot coffee and changed into our dry-quits, making sure not to over insulate ourselves but to still be protected from the elements.

The snow was now piled up to about knee height or so and climbing around on the truck was getting to be a slippery task. The neoprene booties are great for paddling but are understandably not designed for snow.

Down by the water, it was blowing at about a steady 30 knots or so in the protected area that we chose to launch from. The winds were coming out of north, northeast so it was easy to find a launch spot that would allow us plenty of wind blocks and escape routes to shore if desperately needed.

The one thing nice about the snow is that you can easily drag your kayak through it without scratching the hull. (Take into account that you want to be at the stern of your kayak when going downhill.)

Finally we were in our kayaks and ready to launch. The beach was covered with snow and ice so we proceeded to slide our way down the beach and into the cold ice-scattered water.

Even though the water was ice cold, our bodies were totally protected. The only part of our bodies exposed were our eyes and some of my big nose. Head protection was important since the wind would blow the snow and water horizontally into our eyes. Although we were wearing neoprene hoods with visors, the snow and water would make the quest for vision a very stressful one.

"Hey Desmond." "What?" "I said, hey Desmond!" "Hold on I can't hear you, what did you say?" "I didn't say anything yet, but my compass is starting to disappear under the ice that is building up on my deck!" "You are what?" "I said the ice is building up on my deck and I can't see my compass!" "Hold on, let me stop paddling. Now, what did you say?" "Just forget it." "What did you say?"

The previous conversation is typical of what happens in adverse conditions such as this. It is a good idea to save any kind of unimportant conversation or observation until after the paddle. It will cut down on stress, and it will make interesting conversation afterwards.

Ice was a problem. It would build up on the deck of the kayak covering the chart and compass and make the kayak top heavy. The corners of our eyelids would freeze together from squinting. It was something to be concerned with (especially if you wear false eyelashes). Gripping the paddle when ice was packing between your gloves and paddle shaft became another small problem, although paddle wax, pogies, and moving your paddle grip around on the paddle shaft instead of keeping your hands in one spot seemed to do the trick.

After about a half a day of paddling, we decided to make our way back in with the help of the faster winds that were a little farther offshore. In no time at all (well maybe a short period of time), we were back to the truck, loaded up and headed home. Another great day of kayaking!

"Hey Mike, let's stop and get some coffee!" "What did you say?" "I said let's stop and...oh never mind."

Summary:

Paddling in the winter offers many rewards: Solitude, scenery, and well being are just a few. Like many other parts of New England, the Connecticut coastline has a wide range of protected areas much like the area we chose to do this paddle.

Although the article was uneventful as far as any kind of terror stricken, life-ending paddle of death, it is very dangerous for inexperienced, under-equipped paddlers. Desmond and I have 15 to 20 years of paddling experience (not all good ones) and have the best kayaks and gear available. The gear that is used is both simple and functional. Drysuits with latex booties and insulated underwear keep the body and feet warm and dry. Coated nylon pogies with neoprene gloves work the best for me. Overmitts or neoprene mittens can become cumbersome or useless in the event of a rough water rescue.

The kayaks have to be very seaworthy and are paddled in the roughest of conditions. The sea in the middle of winter is no place to be in a recreational kayak, ( i.e. Keowee, Pungo, etc.), and the minimum of kayaking skills. Know your equipment, and your limits for there is plenty of time to go out and play with old man winter and the sea.

If anyone has any questions or would like to inquire about remedies or methods that I use for sea kayaking, feel free to call : Mike Falconeri, Urban Eskimo Kayaking, (203) 284-9212.