May 21, 2000

The Perfect Small Craft Advisory

I'm sure now I'm getting closer. Much closer.

Trevor put on the trip to Assateague, as he did all the prep work. The trip carried my name too, but he deserves all the credit for getting us to the launch site. I drove out with Trevor, and despite me making a few wrong turns we got there about an hour early. Amigh had called us about 20 minutes away and said the National Park Service was not issuing backcountry permits because of a small craft advisory. I called the Coast Guard and asked them how long the SCA was expected to last - 'All weekend,' was the answer. The mood over the group was becoming somber.

We needed a back out plan...

Amigh called the State park and found they had lots of available camp sites, so off we were. We figured we could find out about camping and launching our kayaks once we got there. Once in the ranger station, someone asked about launching from the ocean - there was nothing for kayakers, but were told we could launch on the bay side. As we were starting to realize we were not going to get any ocean paddling in this weekend, I asked if we couldn't launch from the beach because of park policy, or that there just wasn't any launch facilities. The answer caught my attention - "So if we carry the boats to the beach ourselves, we can launch?"

"Oh, Sure"

"Excellent"

After selecting a campsite as near as possible to the beach, we set up camp and carried the boats to the water. This was a chore as walking in soft sand is difficult when not carrying a 50-pound boat and 20 pounds of gear. Working in our favor was a light rain had dampened the sand to make it a bit easier to walk on.

Trevor and I had already decided we needed to go over a few basic rules with the group:

1) Don't get yourself between the boat and shore

2) Don't hold your paddle across your body when crashing through a wave

I was probably one of the more experienced in rough water paddling which makes me feel even more responsible 'for' and 'to' everyone on the water. Once through the first surf zone, I knew there would be little danger. I probably should have communicated that to everyone else, but that would be like downgrading to a slower ride at the amusement park. The adrenaline rush is part of the price of admission. And there would be plenty to go around before it was over.

There were two surf zones. The first, nearly an on shore break, occurred less than 15-20 feet from shore. Not large in height, but enough to easily broach a kayak, and large enough to give someone a good spanking if they got knocked over in it. The second was much further off shore and in deeper water. When we arrived on the beach the second break was just a smattering of foam, with no curl to it. But the tide was going out and the waves rose up larger on the sand bar until as I was launching I began to see a defined curl in the waves as it crossed the offshore obstruction. The plan was I would go first (guinea pig) and act as safety between the two break zones. Trevor would help everyone out, then launch last. Once everyone was through we would repeat the process for the second zone.

After putting on my helmet I boarded for what I expected to be a rough launch. My first attempt through the shoreward surf immediately sent me broaching. I was surprised how automatic and reassuring my high brace was as I was tossed back onto the beach. A last second hip snap and I was back upright waiting for help to get me pointed back into the water. A second time I broached and this time was tilted at a severe angle away from the beach. My brace held until I hit sand with the paddle and then I levered myself up. Both times on my off side.

I was psyched at how well my high brace worked, and commented on it several times later that night. I had worked hard since early January to improve my skills and this was strong proof that hard work was beginning to pay off. Or maybe I was just damn lucky. Luck or not, it felt 'right.'

Third time was a charm as I punched through the breaking wave and paddled out hard. The second wave of the set sent me pointing nearly straight up so that all I saw was overcast sky. By the third wave I knew I was home free. I had already drifted a ways down the beach so I turned to head north. The fog, thicker than I would have liked, did not impair my vision as much as the spray and light rain on my glasses. Every few minutes I would have to wipe them with a finger to try and make out who was coming through the break next. Soon Amigh came punching through to tell me she didn't have any foot pegs to put her feet on. I made the mistake of telling her to just wait till everyone got out through the first break, and then we would go through the second break and raft up to fix the rudder pedals. All the while the second break seemed to be getting larger by the moment.

All the negative things I've heard about sliding rudder pedals had led me to buy Seaward style rudder pedals for my Guillemot. Besides eliminating the spongy feeling while bracing, they also eliminated the possibility of the pegs sliding towards the rear of the boat and preventing you from getting your feet on them. Amigh's predicament made me aware my decision was the correct one, but at the moment it didn't help Amigh at all.

We had to continuously paddle north as the wind was carrying us south at a pretty good clip. I should have rafted up with Amigh and fixed her foot pegs between the breaks. I was unsure if we could get them fixed prior to being carried back into the first break. This would not have been a problem, as we would later find out, because the southerly drift would have kept us between the two zones.

Joan would attempt next, but from my vantage point it was hard to tell what was going on, and I was continuously looking around to make sure we didn't drift too close to either surf zone and paddling north to compensate for the drift. I would later learn that on her second attempt she made it through the surf only to loose her paddle, and exited. She decided enough was enough and parked her boat on the beach. Mardi came through next and didn't appear to have any problems in the Current Designs Breeze. And Trevor came though like a pro in his Chesapeake 17 LT.

I told Trevor I was taking Amigh through the second surf zone to fix her pegs, and Trevor turned towards Mardi. Amigh and I headed for the second break, which started to loom larger as we approached. Amigh was about 20 feet behind me when the wave crashed across my face and chest and I held my paddle high to keep it from catching the solid wall of green water. Once through the line, I turned my head and watched Amigh make it most of the way through, being battered as well. Still not quite all the way through the zone I heard her say Mardi was in the water. I tried to tell Amigh to come the rest of the way out and just wait, but she couldn't hear me over the waves and she began to turn to head towards Mardi when the wave knocked her over.

At what point does one know they are in over their head? When does confidence in your skill, or that of others start to wane? We had just launched and we already had two people in the water. Surely there should be some doubt on my part at this point, no? Despite the conditions I wasn't concerned with anyone getting injured outside the first surf zone. And we just weren't far enough from shore to worry about not getting back (there were no strong rips that we could identify from shore, nor from the water while waiting for everyone to launch). If we couldn't get them back in the boats though, it could be a long carry back to the launch site because of the southern drift, and I already had my fill of portaging.

I was regretting not fixing Amigh's foot pegs and began to wonder if that may have had something to do with her going over. Nah, that was one big ass wave that slammed her. When I had gone through I had raised my paddle overhead to keep it out of the wave and felt green water on my wrists as I crashed through. It would have been impossible for me to stay upright if I had been broached.

I didn't see why Mardi went over but I knew she hadn't made it to the second surf zone yet. Later she would tell me she thought it was a rogue wave, but wasn't sure because she never saw it. Maybe the stable Breeze had met its upper limit on waves it could handle without being tossed over.

I quickly scanned for Mardi and saw Trevor near her in the water. I turned around and just as I was beginning to access Amigh's dilemma a wave crashed over my head from behind. As I got knocked over I quickly felt it release me and instinctively screw rolled back up. Text book roll. I have to admit - this was my first roll under fire and it worked so instinctively that I wondered if I had even done it at all. I could see Amigh had her boat and paddle and was in no immediate danger so I started to set up to rescue her when I got broad sided with another breaker, again to roll right back up.

This was fun, but I need to improve my skills enough where I don't need to focus on the next wave and can concentrate only on the person in the water. I'm at that point on flat to fairly rough water, but it was obvious some ocean paddling will be required to get me to that point in these conditions.

As I went to get bow to stern it looked like we were bow to bow, so I turned to go to the other side. Once there I realized that we were now bow to bow. I had misjudged for some reason. In assisted rescue practice, this is not the first time I've made this mistake. Now I had to go to the other side again, but not before getting slammed over a third time. I rolled back up, but this time had to make a lot of sculling strokes to get up the last little bit. I was about to the point of hooking up my tow belt to Amigh's kayak and towing out of the breaking waves, but I really wanted the practice in these conditions and knew I might not get another chance. We were nearly out of the surf by now anyway. If I got knocked over again, I would tow.

I was finally in position. I thought it pointless to do a T rescue since we were still in or near the surf line. The boat might fill back up with water before Amigh got back in and the spray skirt attached. I had practiced rescues with Amigh before and knew her assisted rescue skills as a victim to be strong. I rafted up and held on and Amigh climbed in. Once she was aboard we had drifted in far enough we were able to pump out a good portion of the water. One wave lifted her stern and crashed the rudder down on my bow, leaving a nice memorial ding in the gel coat.

At some point Amigh noticed she was sitting on her seat back, which had folded down during her reentry. We tried unsuccessfully to get the seat back in place. Blasted hard back seats. Amigh had remained calm through the entire ordeal and had performed every action with minimal instruction. After getting her spray skirt on, her boat still had a little water in it, no foot pegs to brace against, and she was sitting a few inches higher than normal on the seat back. In retrospect I wonder if I could have kept my kayak upright in those conditions, but despite all the disadvantages she stayed above water. I asked her if she would be ok while I went to help Trevor and Mardi.

Mardi was still in the water and I wanted to get her out or find out what the problem was. After getting assurances from Amigh she was ok, I told her to stay put and headed towards Mardi and Trevor. Mardi was sitting in a cockpit full of water when I rafted up. The three of us took turns pumping what seemed like 500 gallons of water out of the boat. Despite the float bags, the large cockpit held a tremendous amount of water. I later learned from Trevor he tried to T rescue the boat, but had too difficult a time bracing and dealing with the Breeze. As we continued to pump the boat I kept asking Trevor and Mardi if Amigh was ok, because my back was to her and I couldn't see her.

With my improved skills, also has come the burden of feeling even more responsible for the group. Normally I wouldn't have left Amigh to deal with the seat and rudder pegs on her own, but at the moment a person still in the water and unable to clear the water from her boat was more important. In retrospect leaving Amigh in that condition may have meant she might end up back in the water. Whether by luck or by skill she made my decision work out.

Once most of the water was out and the spray skirt attached we headed back towards the launch. We had drifted a good quarter of a mile and I could see Joan walking parallel to us on the beach. It was good to know if we had to come through the first surf zone someone was already on shore to give a hand. We paddled north to the launch area and determined I would go in first and help the others with Joan. As I came through the last 20 feet or so I got pounded by a wave and knocked towards shore. Nearly upside down I twisted myself to be on the seaward side of the kayak and wet exited. Joan and I hauled the kayak on shore and I waded into the breakers as Amigh came in.

Just before the breakers I told Amigh to wet exit. She did and we took her kayak up on shore next. Mardi was next and knowing she too had a lot of water still in her boat and adding weight I had her wet exit as well. I'm not certain she was happy with filling her kayak back up with water, but I felt it was safer than risking a 100+ pounds of kayak/water trouncing her in the surf.

Trevor, picked the right spot, and the right moment to come ashore. Almost no ripples under his boat as he gently touched sand. Not only did he make it look easy, a few minutes later he went back out and came back in with no difficulty at all.

I was tired. The portage, the rolls, the assisted rescues and pumping out the red tanker had taken its toll on me. I would have liked to go back out but decided against it since I didn't want to extend beyond my limits for being able to rescue others or myself.

But what a rush it had been. High brace practice, rolling, and assisted rescues in 'combat conditions', yet in the relative safety of being near shore within two break zones. I'm ready to go again. Four foot seas may be small for many sea kayakers, but for this flat water Potomac dweller they were pure fun.

So ended the big adventure, but not the camping trip. After hauling the boats and ourselves back to the cars, we loaded them up for a trip on the bay side of the island. The wind was blowing pretty hard now, but we found a place that wasn't so bad. The waves kicked up on the bay side were of little consequence after what we had been through earlier. Joan was catching cold so she stayed away for this paddle and went for a hot shower instead. After an hour on the water we headed back to camp for dinner and going over the events of the day.

The wind continued through the night. I don't recall ever getting any sleep, but I must have at some point since I didn't feel that bad in the morning. It rained as I tore down my tent and tossed it into my truck. Then it promptly stopped so everyone else could pack up...