Kayaking's Secret Pain

"This article first appeared on 'Wes Boyd's Kayak Place' website and is republished with permission. All articles in this category were authored by Wes Boyd unless otherwise noted. [Woody]"

Let's try an experiment: go sit down on your living room floor, back up against the coffee table, your legs straight out in front of you. Sit like that for, oh, four hours. Then try to get up.

No way you're going to do that, huh? Well, try this: go out and get in your kayak, and paddle for four hours. Not hard; just take it easy and check out the scenery. Then try to get up.

The majority of kayaks aren't built with comfort in mind, especially when it comes to legs. Designers like to have you "locked in" to the boat pretty good, in case rolling time comes along. But, it's not very comfortable. We all know that, and don't talk about it much. It's like it was a dirty little secret that we don't want to let our failings on to others.

Here a while back, a group of us were getting set to take a river trip on a rather low creek. Many of us were touring kayakers, and didn't want to tear up our nice boats on all the rocks and snags and stuff, so we took alternative routes. Me, I took a 50-year old aluminum canoe; others, whitewater boats they'd picked up over the years, and other such stuff.

We were standing around talking, waiting while everybody got their acts together at the put-in, and I got to talking to a woman who was griping about the seat in her whitewater boat: it hurt her legs, she said. She didn't use it very much, because she could only stay in it a short time. I shook my head, and said, "I know what you need." I reached into the back of my van, and pulled out a red bag, about six inches thick, eight inches wide, and eighteen inches long. "Stuff this under your knees," I told her.

She was dubious, but willing to try anything. A few minutes later, she got her boat into the water and slid into it. "That's really comfortable," she said. "It's never felt this good!"

I busied myself with getting the canoe going. There was quite a group of us on the little stream, and we separated, so I didn't see her again until the takeout. "That was really great!" she said, handing me the bag back. "My hamstrings don't hurt at all, and they always do, even in my other boat! Where can I buy something like this?"

"Buy?" I said. "You don't buy something like this, you need to make it yourself, so it fits you. The bag is a stuff sack from an old tent I threw away years ago. Inside it is some foam rubber from a school bus seat I scrounged from a dumpster. There's some duct tape wrapping the foam rubber to keep it firm."

I don't claim that stuffing a pad up underneath your knees is the universal panecea for all kayaking's leg problems. I know it works for me.

Right after I got my current boat, about the third or fourth trip I made, I wound up being out on the water for about four hours. I don't know how I ever managed to stand up when I finally did get to shore, my leg pain was so bad. It was then that I knew I had to do something, and I experimented with a foam rubber pad, folded to various shapes and thicknesses to decide what the final version would be. I tried one of those square life preserver/cushions you see on canoes, but it was too firm and too wide.

The current version of my leg bag took a while to evolve; at the core, there's some high-density foam rubber to give it a little more stiffness, and it's wrapped with softer foam. It seems to do the job. A friend of mine uses a roll of soft foam rubber, but wrapped tight with duct tape. Whatever works for you is the ticket. Do it right, and it really does lock your thighs into the boat better, without the constant pressure on the foot pegs that makes for sore hamstrings and leg cramps.

Best of all, for a touring boat person, it can do double duty as a pillow, saving neck cramps while you're sleeping. Not bad for a few cents investment in duct tape.

Run For The Border

"This article first appeared on 'Wes Boyd's Kayak Place' website and is republished with permission. All articles in this category were authored by Wes Boyd unless otherwise noted. [Woody]"

You may be able to have substantial savings on your new boat by making a

Run For The Border

Buying a Canadian built boat in Canada has some cost benefits for those of us close enough to the border to make it worthwhile. Many popular kayaks are Canadian built -- including Current Designs, Necky, Seaward and Feathercraft among the more popular brands. In addition, there are some smaller Canadian manufacturers, such as Rainforest Designs, Boreal, Dimension, Nomad, Mid-Canada Fiberglass, and others that often have interesting boats at sometimes even better prices.

After you take the currency conversion rates into consideration, list prices that I've been able to find on Canadian-built boats seem to be 10 to 20 percent less than the list prices listed in the Canoe and Kayak 2000 buyers guide. For example, one particular boat lists for $3295 CDN at a dealer in in Canada, or roughly $2190 US. Canoe and Kayak lists that boat at $2495 US in the US. The exchange rate varies a little from day to day, and at this writing is around 66.4 cents on the dollar -- close enough to two to three to be able to handle the math mentally.

The converse is also true.US built boats on sale in Canada are generally not bargains, with prices on boats from manufacturers like Wilderness Systems and Dagger at prices considerably over typical US prices once you get done with the dollar conversion. The savings either way, I am told, are not as good as they were before the passage of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), but potential savings still exist.

According to a conversation that I had with a Customs inspector in Detroit, if a boat built in Canada is brought across the border by a private individual, there is no duty, thanks to NAFTA. You do, however, have to be able to point to somewhere on the boat, or paperwork, that indicates that the boat is actually built in Canada. If the actual point of construction of the boat is some other country, you may have to pay up to 10% duty on the first $1000 of the value of the boat in US dollars, and 2.7% after that. The actual duty depends on the country of origin.

The inspector that I talked to suggests that if you think that there's ever the possibility that you're going to take the boat back into Canada, say, on a trip, it's worthwhile to get a duplicate bill of sale at the port of entry, and have it stamped that the boat has passed customs. You'll need it, anyway, if you have to deal with Canadian sales tax.

The Canadian sales tax is another complication. A combination of a seven percent federal sales tax and a provincial sales tax of typically eight percent comes to 15% of the value of the purchase. However, when you cross the border, you can pick up forms that are submitted to the Canadian government to refund the sales tax. These forms may be available from the kayak dealer. The federal sales tax (GST) is refundable in any province once the boat is taken out of the country. The provincial sales tax (PST) may not be, depending on the province. The PST is refundable in Ontario, but I don't know about other provinces. As part of the submission for the refund, the various revenue agencies involved will want proof that the boat has been taken out of the country. If you cross the border at a location with a government duty-free store, stop there to get your tax refund validated. Usually, you will be able to get your GST refund on the spot. It can still take two to six months to get the PST refund.

Many dealers located close to the border will help you avoid the paperwork and delays involved with the GST and PST, by actually delivering the boat to you in the US, usually at the border checkpoint, but occasionally by motor freight straight to your door. This is especially true of dealers located in the Vancouver/Victoria area of British Columbia, I'm told.

One thing to watch out for is the actual fee on currency exchange. While banks and other businesses actually at or near the border may have no fee for this, or a token fee, banks farther away from the border often charge a hefty service charge for making the actual exchange -- one bank in my home town wanted 20 percent for a cash exchange!

One simple way around this is to use a credit card. Again, fees vary. Upon checking with the customer service people at the phone number on the back of the card, my main credit card proved to have an exchange fee of three percent. However, I had another card that hadn't been used in some time, where the exchange was free. On a couple of thousand dollars, that's worth making some free phone calls.

Self Rescue for Big Guys (and Gals)

"This article first appeared on 'Wes Boyd's Kayak Place' website and is republished with permission. All articles in this category were authored by Wes Boyd unless otherwise noted. [Woody]"

It was a hot summer day. The breeze was nothing to write home about, and the waves on the small inland lake maybe got as high as six inches, but we were hanging around just outside the "no wake" buoy where a channel came from another small lake, and we were looking for fun. Boats came out of the channel every few minutes, and their drivers would cob open the throttle to race the mile or so down the lake. In the fifty yards or so where the boat was plowing, trying to get up on a plane, there were some nice waves -- small stuff, but surfable.

We were getting set to knock it off and head back to the launch site when a guy came out of the channel in a big, wide wakeboarding boat. When he cobbed that sucker open, he set up about as big a wake as I've ever seen on that lake, maybe three feet at its best, but fast and steep. I got up on the wake, and was getting a good ride, but noticed that there was a higher, steeper section a few yards to the right. I tried to move sideways on the wave a little to get into the bigger stuff, but turned a little too much, and before I could swear or lay out a good brace, I was windowshaded so quickly I was thrown out of the boat.

At least the water felt good. Though I was out of the boat, the objective conditions were good. The water temperature wasn't a concern, I was close to shore, the lake was pretty close to flat, I had other kayakers nearby, and we'd worked on rescues not long before. If you've got to dump one, that's about the best possible conditions. I didn't even feel the need to yank the ripcord on my inflatable PFD.

Let's face it, I had been looking for trouble, and found it, so I couldn't complain. Capsizing can happen. I could have been caught by that wave without playing on it. I could have -- well, a lot of things.

Capsizes are relatively rare if you're operating halfway conservatively, but you have to at least give some allowance for the possibility of it happening. That's why most kayaking instructors give at least lip service to rescue and re-entry instruction, and why at least some of us work on rolls.

I'll be honest -- I don't work on rolling, rescue, and recovery as much as I should. Few of us do. There's a huge array of rescue techniques and tools out there, and a few people practice at them seriously, but most kayakers don't, or only do it occasionally.

In general, the techniques aren't difficult, but they do require practice. They especially require practice for the larger kayaker, since several techniques beloved by the instructors or lovingly detailed in the books just don't work well in the field for the big guy and gal.

Since I'm no expert in this field, I'm going to stay away from a blow-by-blow description of most of them, since there are better people out there to learn from. I'm going to interject one warning, though: while there are instructors out there, there are some that are not going to understand the physical problems of big people, or are going to want to try. Find someone else, someone that's willing to work with you. Failing that, though, a lot of people have learned these techniques, even up through rolling, from books and from working it out by themselves or in small groups.

The Paddle Float

The paddle float self rescue is probably the most important technique to master. It's one of the easier ones, and will serve even in very bad conditions if well practiced. In general, the instructional books written by British sea kayakers are good on the rolling and group rescue points, but weak on self rescue, since most reject the paddle float. North Americans, though, realize that the paddle float is a useful tool, especially but not exclusively for those that don't have a roll.

I'm going to assume that you at least have the basic idea of a paddle float rescue. If you don't -- or even if you do -- I'd strongly recommend spending a few minutes reading Matt Broze's Using the Rescue Float. Matt is, among many other things, the guy that popularized the paddle float (he calls it a rescue float) and one of the guys that wrote "Deep Trouble", the widely-read discussion of paddling incidents. But, just for recap, you attach the float to one end of a paddle, and the paddle is put under the back deck bungees to be used as a stability aid in crawling up on the back deck of the kayak, and sliding feet first into the cockpit.

Getting up out of the water and onto the back deck is the trouble area for the bigger kayaker, since many don't have the pure arm strength to do a straight lift like many teach -- so you need to work out a solution in practice, in a pool or a warm, quiet spot near shore, and not under the gun.

One thing to try is to let your body float, bringing your feet near the surface, perhaps using the boat for a bit of support. Hook one foot over the paddle shaft before trying to pull onto the deck. Using the foot to keep yourself as horizontal as possible before giving a good pull to get up on deck, using the foot to push a little.

That may work for some people, but others find more assistance is needed. Many people turn to a stirrup arrangement to give the possibility of more push from the legs. There are many ways to do a stirrup. Broze and others suggest a loop of rope hung from the paddle shaft, with the loop six to ten inches under water, although I find a little deeper works better for me. Another way to do it is to attach a rope with a loop in the end at the proper distance to a permanent hard point in the kayak -- I have one rigged to the seat supports in my Heron. That system doesn't work as well in the Telkwa, as there isn't a good hard point, but, I carry a long loop of rope permanently tied to throw clear around the cockpit. Any one of the solutions works, although I find the paddle shaft stirrup a little more fussy to rig and use. I'd make the point, too, that a permanent hard point inside the kayak makes a good place to attach antitheft devices.

Doing a paddle float rescue can put a tremendous stress on the paddle shaft, especially until you learn what you're doing. I put some interesting bends in a cheap aluminum paddle I bought used for rescue practice. Now, I suggest a trip to a lumber yard for a 2x4, at least for the early stages of practice.

The paddle float has a number of other possible uses in a rescue, such as in aiding a handroll. Other items than a inflatable paddle float can be used in the paddle float techniques, and many kayakers carry a permanent, hard closed cell foam paddle float as a matter of course.

The paddle float rescue is not automatically good in all conditions, but will work in very bad conditions if you've practiced it enough. In any case, practicing it until you're comfortable with it will give you the confidence to move on to other techniques.

Other Techniques

Most sea kayakers don't have a roll, or at least so they think. However, with a little bit of practice, they can have something that will serve as an excellent re-entry aid for large kayakers: the paddle float re-entry and roll. With the paddle float attached to the paddle, hold the paddle next to the boat, take a deep breath, flip upside down and re-enter the boat. That's the tough part that takes practice, since it can be rather disorienting, and I frankly find it difficult. But, once inside the boat, sweep the paddle out sideways, and execute a "hip snap" and some downward sweep. The buoyancy of the paddle float makes up for a lot of sins in the execution. Once you're upright, there'll be a lot of water in the boat, but the paddle float can be used as an outrigger while you pump out. Electric pumps are nice.

Realistically, the best bet is to get a roll. Again, its something that can be learned by yourself with the help of instructional materials, or perhaps at a website like Elements of the Eskimo Roll, one of the better sites on the subject. Once you have a roll, and are a bit confident with it, you can use the re-entry and roll technique without the paddle float.

One more re-entry technique should be mentioned: the "cowboy" re-entry. A lot of people don't like it, and many say it won't work consistently, but it's worth giving a try. Basically, you push down on the stern of the boat so you can get straddle of it, and scooch your way forward, leaving your legs in the water to provide a little more stability. Balance is tricky and a paddle float might help. Rudders and hatch covers, plus stuff on the deck, is going to make it more difficult. Recently, I heard of a variation, where you work backward from the bow, facing backwards. This simplifies getting into the cockpit, although face down, and then rolling over once you're in the cockpit may be a little easier. It's one possibility in the bag of re-entry tricks, and worth a try in practice conditions, just to be a little familiar with it.

In "under-the-gun" conditions, the important thing is to keep trying. Don't give up. It's your life. If one thing doesn't work, try another. And another. There's gotta be a way.

Aided Rescues

In the rescue bag of tricks there are any number of aided rescues and their variants, where another kayaker helps with or conducts most of the rescue. You can read all about the T, the X, the H, and others in many books, and I'm not going to detail them here, but limit my discussion to two:

* The Side-By-Side Basically, the rescuer gets on the far side of the swamped kayak, and reaches over to stabilize the boat and help the victim up. The victim grabs the cockpit of the far boat for better leverage. This has worked for me -- if I have a sling attached. If not, I've managed to lift the rescuer's boat up onto the deck of my kayak.. Once again, practice helps.

* The Scoop, in which the rescuer holds the victim's kayak on its side. The victim re-enters, floating on their side but with head above water. Then, the rescuer pushes down on the victim's hull while grasping their PFD, while the victim does a hip snap, perhaps aided by a paddle float, to get upright. I haven't tried this one but it would seem to have some possibilities.

I've only touched briefly on aided rescues, and they're deserving of a longer discussion, which I'll perhaps write some one of these days.

Practice, Practice

Rescue techniques should never take the place of good sense or good judgement. There's a subtle trap with them, sometimes called "risk homeostasis". It's complicated, but to oversimplify it, most of us will accept a certain level of risk. If we improve our techniques or equipment to reduce the effects of that level of risk, we then will often accept a higher degree of risk, so we end up where we started in terms of overall danger to ourselves. There's a much better discussion of this on John Winter's Redwing Designs Page, and I'll send you there for details.

But, any kayaker should spend some time studying safety and techniques. There are several valuable discussions online of just these things, and some of the best are the discussions on Matt Broze's commerical Mariner Kayaks website. In fact, I'd have to say that the manuals section of that site is probably the best instructional resource about kayaking online, period. Take a while with it -- and it'll take a while. I've already mentioned Using the Rescue Float, but also worth reading are other sections about Kayak Rescues That Work and the broader, general range, Sea Kayaking Safety. Take your time with these, copy them to your hard drive and read them at leisure. They are worth it.

Many paddlers, myself included are lackadasical about practicing these techniques, and we shouldn't be. They are valuable tools. For any kayaker, it's worth finding a few hours to do some pool sessions or some hours on a warm day at the beach, to at least become familiar with various techniques, even if you don't practice and polish to the BCU Five Star Level. On a hot summer's day, it's a good way to play and get wet, while learning something in the process. And you might learn something that could safe your life.

The Economics of Kayaking

"This article first appeared on 'Wes Boyd's Kayak Place' website and is republished with permission. All articles in this category were authored by Wes Boyd unless otherwise noted. [Woody]"

The cost of a kayak can be pretty daunting, with a grand to get you into a new plastic boat, or two and three for fiberglass. It seems like a lot of money, and it is -- but it's really not that bad once you look at all the numbers.

When I decided to get back into kayaking after an absence of a number of years, my wife wasn't happy at the sort of money I would wind up spending on a fairly cheap recreational boat. And, she was right -- it would be a lot of money to waste if the boat just sat around, not getting used. However, I used it enough that she didn't squirm too badly when I sold the rec boat and bought an Old Town Heron.

I keep a journal of my kayaking experiences, so with a bit of work it was fairly easy to work out some idea of the costs. In the two years and change that I used the Heron as my primary boat, I paddled it about 1250 miles in about 410 hours on the water, which included floating around looking at wildlife as well as paddling hard. The boat cost, on sale, under $800 -- closer to $850 when tax is included. So, amortizing the cost on a per hour basis, it works out to $2.07 per hour. For the sake of round figures, let's call it an even 200 hours a year and $2.00 per hour.

Over that period, I probably spent close to that much again on what we can call "operational costs" which includes things like paddles, PFDs, gas to the launch site, and so on -- but not major trips, since I'd probably go somewhere and do something as expensive with that money if I didn't kayak on the trip. So, since I still own the boat, I can pretty well say that it cost me around $4.00 per hour over that period. I've used it sporadically since then, as a guest boat and in special circumstances, but if I were to decide that I wanted to sell it, and got $600 on the sale, that would reduce the total cost per hour for that period to about $2.50 per hour.

I've only paddled the more expensive Telkwa for part of a season -- a total of 135 hours against a cost of around $2500, which includes two trips to Canada to try out and pick up the boat -- so the overall per-hour cost is still pretty steep at $18.50 per hour. But by the time I get as much time on it as the Heron, it'll be down to about $6.10 per hour, plus an arbitrary $2.00 per hour "operational cost". If I were to sell the boat at a reasonable figure at the end of that period, I'd probably have the initial cost amortization plus the operational cost somewhere down under $4.00 per hour.

Now, $2.50 to $4.00 per hour is a pretty decent figure to spend on outdoor recreation. There are, in fact, not a lot of ways that you can spend less than that, but plenty of ways that you can spend more.

I'll bet, for example, that the typical $8000 jet ski doesn't operate as much as 100 hours per year (thank goodness!) Operational costs, including gas, liscense, insurance and fines have got to be at least $5.00 per hour . . . you do the math.

I've told the story before of two friends and myself sitting at a boat launch, having a quick lunch, when a guy pulled in and dropped a shiny new bass boat in the water. It was a nice boat, although nothing special -- there are lots more expensive ones out there. We asked what it had cost him, and he said $18,000 -- three times the cost of all three of our boats put together. This guy had his kids with him, so I assume he has to hold down a job to afford that much boat. Considering family responsibilities, work, and whatnot, I doubt that he's going to get more time on the water than I do, which is around 200 hours a year. So, let's compare apples to apples, even though amoritzing the bass boat over two years is a little unfair to him. At 400 hours over two years, capital costs are $45.00 per hour. If he can sell the boat after two years at 2/3 what he paid for it, then capital costs go down to $15.00 per hour. His operational costs are going to be higher than mine over that period -- he'll have to buy gas for the boat, and burn more gas getting to the launch site, plus bait, spark plugs, etc, so he's going to be pretty close to $20.00 per hour.

Even if he amortizes the boat over ten years at that rate of use, it's still going to cost him $9.00 or so per hour. If he can sell the boat for half what he paid -- unlikely after ten years -- his capital costs will still be $4.50 an hour plus another three or four bucks operationally -- probably more, since he'll have had to do major engine work after that much time. In a practical sense, he's not likely to get it under $10.00 per hour unless he uses the boat considerably more than 200 hours a year.

Now, that can be done. I know a retired guy that I'll bet gets 600 hours a year on the water muskie fishing. He doesn't have a shiny new bass boat, either, just an old aluminum beater, but with some nice motors, a good fish finder, and quality tackle. Still, I'll bet he doesn't have $4000 in his outfit, and I know he's had it at least five years, so he's down to about $1.33 in capital costs, probably more like a buck if he were to sell out. (This does not include the cost of the motor home he lives out of while he fishes, however.) I'm assuming that he still spends at least what I do operationally, due to gas, campground rental fees, and the like. So, in spite of stacking the numbers in his favor he's only in the middle of my range of $2.50 to $4.00 per hour.

But, you can get on the back side of that curve, too. Let's assume that I'd stuck with my original plan of getting another two years on the Heron before buying a fiberglass boat, for a total of 800 hours. That's $1.00 per hour if I keep the boat, or only fifty cents an hour if I sell it for half its original value (it'd be two years older and hence presumably worth less.) Add the arbitrary $2.00 per hour operational costs, and we're still at $2.50 per hour.

Thus are the rationalizations of the kayaker lusting after the siren call of new fiberglass . . .

Now, most of this only works if you consider that you get a lot of use out of the boat. Two hundred hours a year is probably on the high side for most of us that have to work. I know I reach that figure only with a lot of after-work exercise paddling in the summer, and that only works because I have lakes close by. I think it's more likely that the average kayaker that has to travel to water is going to be in the range of fifty to a hundred hours per year. At only a hundred hours a year, it would have taken me four years, instead of two, to reach the point of diminishing returns in the Heron.

I'd find it much harder to justify the cost of my glass boat if I only used it fifty hours a year. Figuring that after four years it would be at only half its original value, the cost per hour works out to $6.25 capital costs, plus $2.00 an hour, again, for operational costs, of $8.25 per hour, which is still cheaper than the bass boat -- but it's going to cost him more, too, if he only uses it 50 hours a year. At 50 hours per year, the Heron works out to about $4.00 per hour, which is admittedly cheaper than the fiberglass boat, but nowhere as good as the higher use rate. It still beats renting by a wide margin.

Of course, you can diddle with these figures to your heart's content. Buy a used boat at half the original price, and watch the per hour cost plummet -- it's just that you reach the point of diminishing returns sooner.

However you cut it, though, unless you buy an expensive boat, and lots of expensive gear, and then don't use it much, kayaking is going to be a fairly cheap activity, one that you can compare to lots of others.

There are ways to cut the costs, too, including buying a used boat, using it more, or keeping it a long time. Many years ago, I bought a used canoe at a garage sale for $20. I used it a lot over the first years that I had it, maybe 500 hours before its use tailed off. Operational cost was even less than the kayak, since I only had to buy one new, cheap paddle, ever (I broke one in a water fight). It has a nameplate on it somewhere that has the year "1948" on it, and I took it on a river trip for its fiftieth anniversary. I had an awful lot of fun with it, and it's no doubt the best recreational investment I ever made. The cost per hour doesn't bear figuring, but whatever it was, the fun per hour level was way above it.

So, if you're just thinking about getting into the sport, perhaps it's best to buy cheap until you have some idea of how much you're going to be out on the water -- it may not be as much as you think. Your ideas of what you want in a boat will change, too, as you gain experience. If, from experience, you know you're going to use the boat enough to make it worthwhile, then go ahead and buy that dream boat. If you want it bad enough, you can rationalize your decision out . . . like I just did.

PFDs for Big Guys (and Gals)

"This article first appeared on 'Wes Boyd's Kayak Place' website and is republished with permission. All articles in this category were authored by Wes Boyd unless otherwise noted. [Woody]"

An Iconoclast's Viewpoint

It's Coast Guard regulation that you have to have a flotation aid -- commonly referred to as a PFD, or personal flotation device -- aboard when you're out kayaking. In some circumstances, they're required to be worn at all times -- and most authorities agree that it's a good idea. Some kayaking authorities even get a little rabid at the mouth if it's suggested in their presence that it's possible to go out without one on, not just in the boat.

This is all well and good -- most authorities agree that the best flotation aid is one that is worn, and nothing in this article should be construed to mean that I'm not advocating wearing one. But, I do believe that the common wisdom among kayakers is to some degree barking up the wrong tree. This is especially true where larger kayakers are concerned.

PFDs are controversial in the kayaking community, and on many fronts. I'm probably going to upset some people when I say that the "Type III Recreational Vest", far and away the most commonly accepted flotation device among kayakers, is a poor choice for many, and again, especially true in most cases for larger kayakers.

The idea of wearing a PFD is that it will supply flotation if you wind up in the water -- and, in kayaks, there's almost always that chance. However, if you wind up in the water, wearing a Type III may prove to not be the best choice you could have made -- their buoyancy is only required to be 15.5 pounds, although some run a little higher. However, the Coast Guard Auxiliary's Boating Safety, Skills and Seamanship says flatly, "They are designed for calm inland or close offshore water where there is a good chance of fast rescue . . . They will not turn their wearer face up." You'd better be able to swim, if you're going to wear a Type III.

If a PFD is a "worst case" device, then let's talk worst case. It seems to me that kayakers going offshore, where there is little chance for rescue, or where there is a significant chance of being separated from their boat should be wearing something better than at Type III. A Type I Offshore Life Jacket will turn its wearer face up, provide more flotation, and provide a little more hypothermia protection than a Type III. Even the ugly, often-rejected Type II "Horsecollar" will turn its wearer face up and keep them there.

But you're not going to catch any but the most paranoid or clueless kayaker in a Type I or Type II. The reason that the Type III vest is so popular -- and not just among kayakers, but among most recreational boaters -- stems not from its lifesaving abilities, but from its expediency. They provide somewhat more freedom of motion, at the expense of ultimate safety.

Problems for bigger paddlers

From the viewpoint of the typical kayaking big guy or gal, the vast majority of the Type III Recreational Vests have another problem -- they don't work very well. To put it bluntly, most Type III Recreational Vests are designed to fasten snugly around the waist to keep the PFD from riding up on the wearer. If it rides up, it makes its flotation somewhat useless and encumbers freedom of motion needed for self rescues. But, most of us big guys and gals are bigger in our bellies than we are in our chests, so the idea just doesn't work. I've tried on $15 Stearns life jackets from K-Mart, and $140 types from Extrasport and Lotus, and the only difference I can see in the riding up problem is $125. If it's snug enough to maybe give a little support when you're body is vertical, then it's way too tight sitting in the kayak. So, in a spill, the life jacket quite quickly winds up holding you up under the armpits, with much of the flotation useless.

The only solution to this problem, at least with a Type III Recreational Vest, is to find one of the rare ones that has leg straps to keep it from riding up.

I only note one in the West Marine catalog, for example -- a Sterns "Type III Trophy Series Vest". Sizes go to a "XXX", for a 54-56" chest; the price is around $80.

The Cabela's catalog has two or three. One is a "Cabela's Pro Angler 100," which runs to a 7X, 68" chest. It's a little better equipped with pockets than the Stearns mentioned below, and appears to be somewhat shorter. Prices run $60-$65, depending on size. Another, the "Cabela's Signature Series Vest" appears to have leg straps in the photo, although they aren't mentioned in the text. Again, this one goes to 7X, a 68" chest. and it's supposed to have a little better ventilation than the "Pro Angler." The price is a little steeper, about $80-$90, depending on size. I don't know who actually makes the PFDs that have Cabela's brand name on them. Cabela's also stocks a Stearns "Big Man's Vest", which also comes in sizes to 7X. Prices run $45 to $50, again depending on size. However, this is on the long side, and that might prove to be an issue, since the back of the PFD can be pushed up by the back of a kayak seat or spray skirt, which is why most kayak-specific PFDs are cut rather high in the back.

I have to admit that I haven't evaluated any of the above on the water, but I plan to give one of them an extended tryout, and will update the web page with my experiences when I have. But, hopefully, I've made clear that bigger kayakers don't have to be resticted to poorly fitting, uncomfortable and, in my opinion, somewhat unsafe PFDs that are the norm among kayakers.

Update (1/6/02): Over the course of the last year, I tried out the West Marine vest and both of the higher-end Cabela vests. They are good PFDs for the average big-guy boater. However, they are a little long in the back to be comfortable in a kayak seat. Worse, the leg straps fasten at the bottom of the PFD, rather than up inside, and would block the use of a spray skirt. Still, they have potential in some situations, but in the end I bought none of them, electing to follow the option below.

The heat is on

But, there's another factor about Type III Recreational Vests that makes them less than attractive to the larger kayaker: their insulation value. A foam PFD can actually be pretty warm on a cool spring or fall day, but get out in the summer sun in 90 degree temperatures and high humidity and see how much you can sweat. Especially for us larger types, this is more than mere discomfort -- it's a safety issue all its own, for heat exhaustion or heatstroke might not be far away. I can hear the purists now: "Oh, you can just do a roll to cool off." Well, only if you have a fairly reliable roll, which, like the majority of sea kayakers, I don't.

I'll be honest: in hot conditions, when I've been on calm inland lakes with few objective dangers, I've been known to put the PFD under the back deck bungees and damn the purists. I knew that I was taking a risk in doing so, but I was taking a risk in not doing it, too. Sometimes, you have to balance one against the other. I figured that if something really unlikely did happen and I did capsize, well, the water was warm and I'd have plenty of time to put the PFD on if I decided I needed it. I was not real happy with going without a PFD on, but I suffer in the heat, too, like a lot of us large people, who have limited surface area to cool off our mass.

So, I turned to a different answer, which although controversial and far from widely accepted, I think holds a lot of promise for kayakers: an inflatable PFD.

The wave of the future

In 1997, on the theory that any PFD is a more effective device if it's worn, the US Coast Guard approved some types of inflatable PFDs. "Inflatable vests provide greater buoyancy, better righting ability, and better head support than all but some Type I foam PFDs," says the West Marine Advisor. "We are strong supporters of inflatable PFDs, because of their high buoyancy and the freedom of movement they allow, which increases the liklihood that they will be worn."

Inflatables have been around for years -- remember the World War II Mae West that naval aviators wore? But, they were never USCG approved. For many years, it was not uncommon for boaters to have cheap regular PFDs stashed somewhere around the boat to be legal, and an inflatable to wear, but the regulation changes ended a lot of that.

There are inflatables in the Type III and Type V (Special use and hybrid) classes. Some inflate automatically on hitting the water, although the Coast Guard hasn't approved these devices. Others inflate manually, either through a blow-up tube or by a ripcord-activated CO2 bottle.

Most inflatables fall in the Type III arena because they do not provide flotation without inflation, and require occasional inspection and maintenance, involving checking the CO2 cartridge and air holding ability at least annually. They usually provide 22.5 pounds of flotation, but range up to 33.7 pounds and even higher. They don't, however, provide anything like the insulation of the foam Type III devices.

The hybrid devices are inflatables with some built-in buoyancy -- 10 pounds in the Type III -- and additonal buoyancy is added upon inflation, typically another 12 pounds. In fact, I think the hybrids are going to be the wave of the future for kayakers, since they provide the best of both worlds. However, at the moment I know of no Type V Hybrids out there for the larger paddler. But, I'm looking.

The Type V (Special Use) vests incorporate beefed-up straps so they can do double duty as safety harnesses, primarily on sailboats. Although SOLAS-grade (Safety Of Life At Sea, the highest), they probably don't have much application for kayaking.

I'm of the opinion that, for kayakers, it's probably just as well that the USCG didn't approve auto-inflatable PFDs, since they might decided to inflate when splashed by a large wave or an intentional roll; then, it costs about $20 to arm them. If you do buy an auto-inflatable, you'll have to also carry a USCG-approved PFD to be legal; make sure you check the label.

The big name in inflatables is Sospenders, and they do look like suspenders. Other companies make them, typically Stearns and Mustang. Mine is an "inshore inflatable vest" made by Sospenders and sold by West Marine. Cost was about $70, and the re-arming kit is about $11.00. The vest really isn't designed as a big person PFD -- at 52", I'm at the limit of adjustment -- but it's closed by a simple Fastex buckle, and probably an extension wouldn't be any big trick. Since it's really a smaller person's PFD, it sits high enough on me that riding up isn't a really major problem, although Sospenders now offers a crotch strap kit for $8.00 that should solve the problem.

There are obviously times when an inflatable isn't going to be the appropriate wear -- when the risk of capsize is relatively high, like in surfing, for instance. And, an inflatable may actually interfere with re-entries -- but so can a regular PFD. I think that inflatables have a lot going for them, especially for the larger kayaker in warmer months, when heat injury becomes an issue and in general circumstances when objective risks are low.

In conclusion

There's my rant on PFDs. It probably settles nothing; as I said, PFDs are among the most hotly debated issues among kayakers. But it's clear to me that, in PFDs as in wet suits, most kayaking equipment manufacturers in the field today neither understand the problems or build effective equipment to fit the large size kayaker. So, we have to do the best we can elsewhere.

Kayaks for Big Guys (And Gals)

"This article first appeared on 'Wes Boyd's Kayak Place' website and is republished with permission. All articles in this category were authored by Wes Boyd unless otherwise noted. [Woody]"

Sometimes, it seems like kayaking is another place where the shrimps get all the breaks. It seems like all the really cool boats are shrimp boats, designed for someone standing about 5'8" and weighing maybe 150 lbs. If you're much over that size, the selection thins out rapidly. There seem to be a lot of "extra small" boats on the market, but not many for those of us that fall into the "extra large" category.

Well, there are a few boats out there designed for the big guys and gals. Not many, but a few. I've put together this list of boats for big people. It's not complete, but probably does cover the majority of easily available "big guy and gal" boats.

Most important: A boat can haul a load that could break down a pack horse, track like an arrow, turn on a dime and be fast as the wind, but if you can't get in and out easily, and be comfortable in it for several hours, it is not the boat for you. The only way to be sure it fits you is to try it on; if it doesn't fit, look elsewhere.

The boats on this list are chosen with the reasonable expection or actual experience that my 300-lb. mass can fit in the cockpit. However, I have not tried out all these boats, as much as I'd like to.

Some boats are largely regional boats, such as Nomad, Pacific Water Sports and Nimbus. These boats may not be available for demonstrations across the country.

Many capacities are estimated. Manufacturer's published capacities (if published at all) are often nowhere in contact with reality, due to potential liability concerns, which causes them to be underrated. Other manufacturers are a touch on the optimistic side. Where a boat does not have a manufacturer specified capacity, its capacity was interpolated from other boats near its size. However, capacity figures should be taken with a grain of salt, as this is not an exact science.

Boat weights for composite boats are the manufacturer's stated weights in fiberglass. Most composite boats are available in a kevlar layup, which saves about 5 to 10 pounds per boat, on the average. Many published boat weights represent a good share of wishful thinking, anyway, especially for rotomolded boats. Add at least ten percent to get a little closer to reality; if that figure proves too high, you can be pleasantly surprised.

Some cockpit sizes are measured inside of the rim to inside. Others from outside to outside, which can turn a promising big guy boat into a too-small one very quickly. I've actually measured a few boats, but not all of them. I guess that says that you can't take these figures as gospel.

Prices are mostly taken from the 2002 Canoe and Kayak Buyer's Guide, and may have changed -- or you may be able to get a better deal. Sale prices, a boat's history as a demo or rental boat, or other factors can result in huge savings.

Opinions are strictly my own unless otherwise stated, and yes, I may have made transcription errors, too.

Composite Sea Kayaks

Composite sea kayaks, usually in fiberglass or kevlar, but sometimes other exotic materials, are at the top of the heap. The molding process allows for a finer design, and often more flexibility in layups --for more money, you can get an extra light version or a heavy, bulletproof of the same boat. Composite boats (usually referred to as "glass" boats, since most are fiberglass), are usually more expensive than plastic, but almost always are lighter and have better performance. In addition, there are more different types out there for the big paddler than the plastic sea kayaks.

Plastic Sea Kayaks

Plastic sea kayaks, either rotomolded or blowmolded, are far more common than composite boats, but, let's face it, don't have the charisma of the composite boats. Price has something to do with this -- a plastic boat is usually half the price of a comparable composite boat. But, they're heavier -- sometimes considerably heavier; the handling is usually not as good, and due to the molding process two boats from the same mold can differ considerably. But, a plastic sea kayak can serve you admirably if you accept the limitations.

Recreation Kayaks

The line between recreation kayaks and sea kayaks, or between recreation kayaks and whitewater boats, can be a bit fuzzy at times, since there can be quite a bit of crossover. In general, though, recreation boats are shorter and slower than sea kayaks, longer than most new whitewater boats, and wider than either. They often lack features seen on sea kayaks or whitewater boats, and are almost always plastic. In general, they're designed for flatwater conditions and really shouldn't be taken into rougher conditions. But, if you're staying in calm conditions, they can have distinct advantages -- especially in price.

Whitewater Kayaks

I really don't know much about whitewater kayaking any more -- I've done but little in 20 years. However, if it's tough to find a sea kayak for a big kayaker, it's even tougher for whitewater boats -- the list is very limited, and two good candidates just recently went out of production. Modern whitewater boats are pretty tiny, and most just don't have the capacity for a big guy, even if it's possible to get into one. But, there are a few out there.

Some Closing Thoughts

IF YOU ARE A FIRST-TIME BUYER, don't worry too much about getting the perfect boat the first crack out of the box. Get one that you can get into and out of comfortably, preferably used and don't bypass the rotomolded boats. There are a fair number of used boats in both plastic and fiberglass out there that will serve you through the first part of the learning curve. Or, buy a recreational boat like an Old Town Loon or a Perception America as that first boat -- mine was a Loon. Spend a few months or a year with that boat, learning how to handle it and getting some feeling for what you want in the next boat, trying out various possibilities based on what you enjoy doing and what you want to do with it -- and not what someone else would do with it, either. Then, you can sell the first boat to someone else for almost what you paid for it, and have a boat that's a little closer to what you want -- and what you want probably won't be what you thought you wanted the year before. The time will come when you're probably not satisfied with it, either, and will be shopping again . . . get used to it.