June 9, 2002

Expensive Surfing

The tide is down on the beach. No one around except north, in the haze, I can make out someone walking the beach.

The large breakers are a ways out. I am content with the idea of staying closer to shore. An elderly man approaches from the haze. He asks me something I don't understand. I think it has something to do with rolling from his actions.

I play in the soup and smaller breakers for an hour or so, paddling parallel to shore. Surfing, bongo sliding, practicing a roll or two. I am careful about choosing when to roll as the water is pretty shallow.

Nearby, down a little from where I launched, something is causing the waves to bend and wrap as they come ashore. The beach is straight, so I assume it has something to do with the shape of the sand under water. Waves are running at 90 degrees to the shore in this area, and on the outer edge of this zone they collide with the waves running in parallel to the beach. Some exciting fun.

I find myself parallel to a large wave just as it rises up to break over me. I'm not sure if it is sucking me down or rising above me. Just as it curls I'm in the tube for a moment. After bongo sliding a ways, being pulled deeper and deeper into the wave, it finally spits me out the top of the wave.

I beach for a rest. The kayak pulled well up the beach and over the hump to make sure it won't be swept away by a large wave. I collect probably 20 sand dollars in my walk down the beach, along with some unusually colored shells.

Back at the boat I focus mainly on surfing. There are a few surfers in the water now, so I move further down the beach to make sure I stay out of their way.

I finally decide to "punch through" past the outside breakers. I sit and watch for a long time, and finding a lull I easily make it out with only a strong slap of a breaking wave across the chest.

Now I am out. Time to go back in. I paddle slowly toward the shore watching for a large set of waves to see where the outer break line will be. Once I know, I will hold outside and wait for another lull. I thought I have found that zone when I look behind me and know I am in trouble.

A set of monster waves are rolling in. I begin to back paddle hard; it is too late to turn around. I am elevated into the air by the huge wave - it breaks about 10 feet from me when it passes. I look over my shoulder and a bigger wave is on its heels. Again I am back paddling hard and I remember looking straight down at my bow rising out of the trough of the wave before the crest passed my cockpit and the stern slammed down on the back side of the wave with a loud WHACK. My guess is the wave was maybe 7-8 feet in height. The wave breaking immediately in front of me.

That was scary, but not as bad as I again look to the sea to see another big wave. The last I hoped, and I half expect this one to not be as large as the one just passed, but I am back paddling hard anyway. I look to my side as the wave begins to tumble. I can hear the water start to hiss and crackle as it falls down the face just before passing me. To my left is a sheer wall of water.

I hadn't seen any waves this big all day. Certainly not this many in a row and as I slam down on the back side of the wave I catch sight of the next wave. I know that although I am still back paddling and further out then when the first wave passed, I will not avoid this one.

Again I am staring down at my bow in the trough of the wave. I'm 'standing' on the foot pegs and nearly laying on my rear deck as my kayak pitched vertically. Instinctively I reach up and behind me to brace into the top of the wave. As the wave breaks it covers me and pitches me forward. Immediately I am upside down. But I am calm - just waiting for the wave to release me so I can roll up. I have my unfeathered paddle in one hand. The drag I feel will have me off the wave in no time. But a long few moments later I feel the paddle leave my hand. It is obvious from the feel it has snapped in to two pieces.

Now upside down - spending more time on the wave than I want, and because the paddle broke right in my hand, I don't even have a half paddle to roll up with. I wait till I know I was mostly off the wave and wet exit. I keep hold of the kayak but I know I have to move to the ocean most end quickly. Another big wave is approaching and I don't want to lose the boat or get it slammed into me. I grab the stern toggle and hold on. As the wave passes the boat it pulls me quite strongly toward shore. This is too violent and strong for me to even attempt to get my spare paddle off the rear deck and perform a reenter and roll. I will have to hang on.

Ahead and a little to my right I see my neoprene cap. It has been ripped from my closed pfd pocket. I tow the boat more in its direction and a few waves later I catch up with it. I occasionally catch sight of half of my paddle floating with the blade in the air like a waterborne stop sign. The weight from the extra shaft in this piece is causing the paddle to stand on end.

I finally get into a zone that is calm enough I feel I can get my spare paddle. After I assemble it I touch bottom with my feet. Close enough now to just go ashore, I walk in to the beach.

On shore I drag the boat up and pull off my pfd and skirt. I begin to walk up the beach looking for my broken paddle. Not seeing it I turn around and walk back and spot the big half near where I had come ashore. The paddle is broken on the right side were my hand was holding it.

I search a bit more for the small half. I begin to give up when I see a `fin' flash in the water near the jetty. Now I have both halves. Hard to just give up on a $220 paddle.

Now I'm in search of a good surf paddle. Something that can take the abuse, yet not wear me down to the point of exhaustion when touring at sea. I suspect if I had been paddling feathered the paddle would not have broke, but I was still disappointed at how little pull I was feeling when it snapped.

Woody

Lessons Learned

9 June 2002

I'm off to go kayaking on the base lake. High winds, but still beats the heck out of breaking paddles in the surf ;)

Gonna work on paddling feathered - actually, work on rolling and all the other stuff - the paddling is easy. Gonna have to get used to the less support provided by the whetstone paddles - that swift had a big blade and made braces a piece of cake. I'm probably going to have to get the swift repaired/replaced before taking my 3 star test.

Several things I'm still angry about from yesterday - primary one that I had equipment fail on me and that got me into a bit sticky of a spot. Once I went over upside down and was being dragged along by the wave I felt back in control - just waiting for the time to roll back up, but when the paddle broke I went from one extreme to the other - no control. Until yesterday my greatest fear was the pitching over part. Would I get a mouthful of water? Would I smash myself into something? Would my kayak get pulled from my body? Once upside down and surfing along with the wave I regain control of that fear because I know I just need to wait a few more seconds then roll up. Yesterday may have changed that control feeling I have upside down, and I may need to focus on what my paddle is actually doing. If being pulled at strongly, should I just let it go?

I was a bit concerned that in that zone, even though I had a spare paddle, conditions were great enough that I was afraid I might lose the spare or the boat if I attempted to retrieve it off the back deck. I guess riding it out was the best I could hope for. Even when I did take the paddle off the rear deck, I pulled off a drip ring getting it out from under the bungee. I then had to waste time getting it back on (I think it would have sunk if I had dropped it). I'm thinking of taking off my drip rings all together when not paddling in cold water. I also didn't like the idea of letting go of the boat to assemble the paddle, but that was well timed between waves. I could have stuck an arm through a deck line I guess, but by then I was too close to shore to care if the boat got away from me or not.

Looking at whetstone's web site (I have a T-1 and T-2 whetstone) I think their lay-ups may be a little stronger than the swift paddles. The less blade area should mean less forces acting on it to break it in half. Paddling feathered would keep both blades from dragging through the water under high load. Maybe the combo of all the above will keep me from breaking another paddle... I'm just going to have to learn to instinctively brace with a feathered paddle, which could be a job in and of itself... (I had just noted to myself yesterday that my high and especially my low, braces were getting instinctive)

The other thing I'm mad about is that after the first wave narrowly missed, I should have paddled like hell in as close behind it as possible. When the second wave over took me it would have been nothing but strong soup, and certainly would have saved the paddle even if it flipped me.

Never been in a wave that big. The 4-5 footers out at Assateague were nasty - maybe even more powerful as far as bouncing me around, but not nearly as big. The one where I was looking straight down into the trough I thought I might fall forward it was so steep, and my bow was raising out of the trough when my cockpit finally crossed the top of the wave. When my stern slammed down on the back of the wave, that too caught me by surprise.

I can't help wondering if I may have cracked that shaft sometime in the past, it simply didn't feel like it was pulling that hard on my arm. On the other hand, maybe it was a sudden jerk, and if it hadn't of broke, it might have dislocated my shoulder.

Lots of info for me to digest. I'm not sure why my neoprene cap got sucked out of my closed pfd pocket. My camelback, pump, and paddlefloat stayed on my deck - I think I finally have that lashing combination down (although the pump handle was fully extended - would have been easy to break it off in that position).

Position in the water is something I need to look at also. The waves were breaking much bigger/further out near the jetty, and I may have drifted closer to it as I was back paddling. If I had paddled forward and to my right the waves might never have broke near me.

Water was cold, but I was ok for the first 10 minutes or so. After that my legs began to tingle - no shivering, so I don't think I was getting hypothermic, but my legs felt pretty fatigued when I did get to shore, possibly from walking against the strong undertow the last 50 feet to shore, possibly from the cold, or both. Water temp was 58 degrees, and I was wearing a polartec farmer john, rash guard shirt, and a splash jacket. I would not have wanted to be in the water much longer than I was.

Earlier in the day I rolled in a wave and felt the water get a hold of my helmet and try to pull it from my head. After that I snugged down the chin strap and that seems to have made a difference because I didn't notice that feeling the rest of the day.

I've been told to keep a watchful eye towards the sea at all times, and I was yesterday. When I saw the large swells rolling in, I should have immediately started back paddling. Instead I wasted a good 15 seconds watching, and maybe hoping they weren't going to rise up like I expected.

I always wear a pfd, but this reinforces my conviction to wear one 100% of the time on the water. If I had lost my kayak (the boat actually pulled me ashore by being dragged along with the waves) it would have been a long swim. I could at least count on the pfd to bring me back to the surface after each wave crashed over my head.

My new snapdragon sprayskirt with implosion bar is superb. It really took a licking and except for the wet exit and the water running down the small of my back when rolling, it kept out all the water and not once did I feel it was close to compromising the entire day.

There was a weird experience earlier in the day I had that I forgot to include in the trip report. I found myself parallel to about a 3' wave just as it rose up to break over me. I'm not sure if it was sucking me down, rising above me or both. Just as it curled I found myself in the tube for a moment. After bongo sliding a ways, being pulled deeper and deeper into the wave, it finally spit out the top of the wave. It is an awkward feeling being pulled down into a wave (but a blast being spit out the top).

The surfers never offered help, maybe because I never asked for it. I'm glad they stayed out of the way as my flooded boat came ashore. After being pushed towards shore by the next 2 waves after I wet exited, I felt completely back in control again. But 2 of the 3 surfers went ashore and loaded up their gear while all of this was happening. I think I would have felt a little better if they had stayed at least near shore until they were sure I was ok.

I held on to the toggle on the stern with one hand. I made sure not to get my fingers in the line running to the toggle. I ducked underwater as the first 2 big waves passed over. There was a strong pull on me as the waves grabbed my kayak, but never to the extent I felt I was in danger of dislocating a shoulder (but on the other hand, I didn't feel my paddle was being pulled hard enough to snap either).

I did get an up close and personal look at when a wave just starts to break from the back side of it. Not sure I learned anything from it, but it was interesting to see the green water of the back side of the wave start to fill with air bubbles as the wave began to break.

Anyway, I'm not sure this was as much a lessons learned report as it is additional observations I should have put in the original trip report.

Woody