Victoria Kayaker

Bro Goes to Discovery

2011-08-19T10:03:00.000-07:00

After all the family business was done my brother in law and I slipped marriage bonds and got out for a morning paddle yesterday.

Gareth is a novice paddler so some concessions in the interest of safety were made. We staid out of the waning tide race.

After crossing Baynes Channel and making a quick stop on Chatham we slipped into the hidden lagoon which was almost dry. We arrived during the last hour of the ebb.

Next we played in the Sluice practising ferry glides, break outs and break ins through the eddy line. Then we explored how to paddle against the current by finding the back eddies close to shore and off of head lands.

Finally we ended the day with a long ferry glide back across Baynes Channel to the put in at Maynard Bay.

Back on the Water

2011-08-10T15:56:00.000-07:00

Wow, I was beginning to think this blog was no longer about kayaking. A nice little paddle today from the end of 10 Mile Point in Victoria.

My long time paddling buddy Dan was just back from Singapore and was almost as badly in need of a paddle as I was. We made a relatively quick launch, well it would have been quick, except I kept dawdling.

Once on the water we took advantage of the waning ebb and rode it down around Discovery Island. The south side of Discovery is a great place. Maybe even magical. We stopped for a short break, my trick knee was screaming let me out. After consuming some fruit and power bars Dan dragged me off the beach. He was clearly afraid I was going to take a nap.

Jesus, just fall asleep once under a warm sun on a pristine beach, and you can never live it down. Well maybe it was the snoring.

Back on the water we made fast time back up to Baynes Channel where the flood was starting to stack up against the water in Haro Strait. A nice line of waves was forming. I suggested we slide in about mid channel and try to ferry surf the waves across to the Cadboro Bay light. This worked perfectly.

While the waves were anything but large they were perfect for surfing. Deep green walls would form, pick us up and surf us forward for 20 to 30 feet or bury us into the back of the receding wave. Lots of fun.

Something odd about 10 Mile Point. Can you guess the real location of the photo?

Safety First

2011-07-31T14:28:00.000-07:00

Timing. Mine's bad. I arrive at the stop sign just as a Volvo with two diminutive seniors tucked down in the front seat rolls through the intersection.

It appears that the Volvo is straining hard pulling a train of cars along behind it. I count 10 cars before I can turn out and become the temporary caboose. The speed limits 50 KPH. We cruise along at a stately 35KPH.

I try to keep a couple of car lengths between me and the car directly in front. Soon there's a Miata trying to become intimate with the tail light of my bike. Up ahead the cars are bunching up; less then a car length separates most of the train.

Looking ahead I see a long sweeping left hand curve leading to a short straight stretch. Inside the curve a farmer is working in a hay field. On the outside an orchard reaches down to the curb of the road. I'm sure I can count the aphids on the tree leaves. My mind starts to drift off. I'm Dickens getting 3 cents a word to describing nothing. So far I've made $10 and I'm only on the cobble stones by the time I get to the door knocker I'll be rich.

"Braaack!" I'm snapped back to reality by the distinctive sound of a small block V8 roaring to life. All that money gone, damn!

The pick up behind the Volvo has swung left to pass. He's misjudged the power and has overshot the road. His left wheels are throwing dust and dirt. The Volvo's brake lights flash. The Volvo drops speed like Newtons apple. Suddenly and with a startling affect on the driver now immediately behind the Volvo. Ouch!

The Newton swings left to miss the Volvo. The truck has made the pass and is back in the right lane. But there's a car coming towards us. Newton brakes hard and cuts back in behind the Volvo which is now creeping along.

My hands are sweating on the handlebars. It's all over in a flash.

The train resumes it's slow progress down the track as the Volvo slowly picks up speed until it reaches 30KPH where it seems to run out of breath. Dickens sitting in the orchard witness the entire scene and starts an account for the Times. He'll make 20 quid.

I pull over at a fruit stand shut the bike down and wait.

I can hear Donald Sutherland's baritone richly explaining the virtues of a Volvo. I turn around and he's talking to a young couple with a baby. Fourteen cars are piled on top of a Volvo, he explains the features, three point seat belts, padded dash, multiple air bags, disc brakes, crush zones. It's as strong as a tank. "It's so safe you could drive it in your sleep." Did I really hear Donald say that?

Years later the baby is gone but the couple are still driving. I imagine the baby having grown into a teenager throwing himself out the back door, rolling through a ditch, jumping up and leaping into the back of a pickup full of red necks running whisky and dope from the local grow op to the big city. The teenager is grinning ear to ear, shouting. "Free At Last."

The couple don't know the baby has grown and fled but are still sedately rolling along safely unconscious in their Volvo.

Donald Sutherland turns out to be a white haired farmer asking me, maybe for the fourth time, if I'd like to try some cherries. I look at him and say, "What I'd really like is to kick Donald Sutherland in the ass but I'll take a flat of cherries."

He looks at me, he looks at the bike. Right, better make that a single box. I try to tell him about the Volvo. He listens then disappears behind the stall. I hear a cellphone chirping away then, "Betty better get down here and bring the Browning."

Ok, it's time to go. I leave the cherries and $5 on the counter. You meet the most interesting people on a motorcycle. It's important to make an impression. I round the next corner and there's a single apple sitting in the middle of the road. Weird. I roll on the throttle and crush it beneath the tires like a bug.

Salt Spring Island

2011-07-20T22:26:00.000-07:00

Slept in late and missed the 9 AM paddle launch. Hmmmm! I thought about throwing the kayak on the roof and rushing down to the beach to try to catch my friends. I rolled over and slept some more.

Around noon I decided to ride up to Swartz Bay and catch the ferry to Salt Spring Island. Down to the garage, jump into my riding gear and out the door I went. Hmmm! Ferry departs at 1 PM. It's 12:31. This will be interesting. Google Maps says it'll take 31 minutes to travel the 31 miles to the terminal.

I make it with, ah how shall I put it, time to spare.

After an uneventful ocean cruise to Fulford Harbour I ride up one side, back and forth across the island then down the other and pull back into Ganges the heart of the last outpost of the alternative life style back to the earth movement.

It might be a Ural, but hey - It's a living.

The Tree House Cafe, reminds me of the Teton Tree House a Bed and Breakfast I once stayed in outside of Jackson Hole Wyoming. So I give it a try.

I order a $14 cheese burger with salad and coffee. The staff consists of vegan granddaughters of aging hippies. The girls are squeezed into tight 100 % hemp blue jeans, with conspicuous thong straps peaking out above the waist line, they wear tee shirts tie died with shade grown salmon berries from a natural watershed, kissed by sun dabbled rays diffused by peach trees planted by Pika Rose-Blossom in the summer of love.

They shudder at the thought of red meat. I secretly smile.

Lunch arrives and as all wana-be French waiters do, my waitress arrives to ask, "How is everything," just as I take a large bite of burger. I look up into those doe like eyes and let some savoury juice dribble from the corner of my mouth, as the juice slides down my chin I reach for my napkin and say, "it's excellent but could I have a glass of Chianti. She flees.

Times passing so I leave $20 on the table and head for the bike. It's 3:45 PM the next ferry is at 4PM. Why not. I sedately leave Ganges and the sweet smell of illicit smoke. As I climb up out of the town the beast explodes and I rip past a line of cars. The next few miles blow by as a series of left, right, left, leans, down shifts, up again, hard brakes, accelerate until I emerge from that last corner to see the ferry 20 feet from the dock. Leaving.
Nice dock but the ferry is missing.

I park and walk over to the coffee shop and order a latte.

"Excuse me I only want want a latte. Oh it's $5 for the coffee. I'm sorry I thought you were asking me for this months rent." I walk outside with what I hope will be the greatest coffee I've had since France. It's not.

Hovering outside the Organic Clothing store staring at a line of Sanskrit head scarfs I have a flash back. I'm back in Roschdale, 17 years old, in a basement with my best friend and a bald guy who says he's a Buddhist. Could be true. My religious exposure extends to Catholics, Protestants and one Jew, Sam Cohen, who buys Pike, a fresh water fish, from me. I've illegally speared them in streams in the spring run off. He pays me $1 a fish.

In the basement we're making silk screened scarfs and tee shirts on this giant frame. Gold paint is poured over the screen, the Buddhists pulls a slide runs across and the paint is forced through the pattern on the screen and into the cloth below. Back and forth until the Hindu God Shiva appears on the cloth.

Buddhists, Baptists and Catholics making Hindu gods in a basement. Amazing.

Reg, my friend, eventually drifts away. Oddly we both end up in Edmonton years later. He on one side of town me on the other. Separated by too many experiences and an eternity of time.

One day his preschool son returns from kindergarten, walks to the end of the dock by the house and topples in. The books in his back pack hold him under and he drowns. Reg owns a bookstore.

I'm a new dad but I'm too scared of the bad karma to reach out.

Funny what an organic clothing store and $5 coffee can dredge up out of the depths. For me Salt Spring Island is losing a little bit more of its charm.

Motorcycle Madness

2011-07-18T13:02:00.000-07:00

With all my paddling buddies occupied I took off for a little ride on the new bike. There's this route on southern Vancouver Island called the Circle Drive.

It's essentially the brain child of the tourism office. Their thinking was that if the government could find the money to pave 53 kilometers of logging road tourists in motor homes would travel this great circle dropping buckets of cash as they went.

So the government paved the road from Port Renfrew to Lake Cowichan thus creating a 265 kilometer paved circle linking Port Renfrew, Duncan, and Victoria our provincial capital. Guess what! The tourist didn't come. The worst section of the road is only chip sealed, twisty and narrow. The type of road that sends the RV crowd to the commode.

What's left is a pretty little road just fine for motorcyclists.

On this day I road up the Malahat to the Shawnigan Lake turn off and swung left to ride the back road and escape the up island traffic. If you take this route stay to the left or west side of the lake. Part of the road has been resurfaced and the traffic volume is even lower.

When you reach the end of the lake don't go back to the island highway but follow anyone of a number of back roads. I travelled through Cobble Hill and Cowichan Bay before slipping into Duncan.

From Duncan I road straight west to Cowichan Lake, gassed up and headed for Port Renfrew. Watch out for logging trucks and dodgy pavement. Some of the corners are deceptive. I squared a few and left my braking too late on a few others. I'm still trying to sharpen skills that sat on the shelf for 23 years.

The last straight section before Port Renfrew is a sort of paved corrugated speed bump. You'll see the straight out ahead of you but you will soon out drive your suspension if you open it up too much.

There's new pavement between Port Renfrew and Sombio Beach. However the section immediately west of Jordan River is rough. Watch out for the hair pin turn at the top of the big hill leading down into Jordan River. I felt the rear wheel slide going through the corner as I had carried too much speed into the turn. A religious moment for sure.

After the climb up out of Jordan River the road leads back to Sooke and is mostly uneventful. If time permits take the Otter Point alternative for a more interesting ride. Once you reach Sooke you're back in urban madness. To escape take Gillespie Road to East Sooke Road and follow it back into Victoria. More photos

Saint Emilion

2011-07-18T12:33:00.000-07:00

Some time in the 8th century a guy left Brittany. Fed up with the rotten weather he wanted to become a hermit. Over time he performed many miracles. He turned kittens into cats, puppies into dogs and eventually grapes into wine.

One of these miracles caught the attention of the Pope and the hermit became Saint Emilion and the wine, oh the wine, well lets just say it may not be a miracle but it's surely a gift from the gods.

Emilion had the wisdom to set up his hermitage on a limestone bluff surrounded by beautiful sun drenched valleys. Poor soil, lots of sun, two of the keys to great wine. Today Saint Emilion is a Unesco World Heritage site.

The wines of Saint Emilion represent some of the very best of Bordeaux. Oddly, the day I choose to visit the sun took a vacation. For my purpose it hardly mattered as I came for the wine and great food and fell head over heels for the charm of the village.

At La Cote Braisee we had a fantastic lunch with perhaps the best table or house wine I've ever tasted. The restaurant, carved out of the limestone hill, is located on the steps half way between the upper town and the lower. Most of these shops are located in caves from which limestone blocks were cut to build the village, the ramparts and the church.

If you should have the great fortune of washing up in Saint Emilion begin by visiting the tourist office. They'll direct you to choice wineries either your own personal favourite or ones they'll recommend. Here's a link to more photos from my visit.

On Driving in France

2011-07-11T08:40:00.000-07:00

Day two.

My partner has been talking about renting a car and driving across France from Lyon to Bordeaux. This talk started weeks ago when it became evident that finding reasonable accommodations in Paris would be impossible. Consequently she decided we'd train down to Lyon then rent a car and drive to Bordeaux then on down to Aracachon where we'd rented a cottage for a week.

Hmmm, Bordeaux is on the Atlantic and Lyon in the east clear across France. Little LED lights went off, but I said nothing except to ask, as our departure date approached, if a car had been reserved. Truth - I really didn't want to drive clear across France. In fact I didn't want to drive down the block. After driving in England I felt intimidated.

Nevertheless it seemed important to my sunshine so I swallowed my trepidation and kept my mouth shut. This was to be her holiday besides we'd agreed to embark on a new holiday planning scheme; she plans one then I plan the next.

On our last day in Lyon we decided we check out if any cars were available. Conveniently there was a EuroCar Agency just outside the Ibis Hotel lobby. In we walk and yes there is a nice car available for only 387 Euros. "A DAY!"

Well that's the end of that. The smacking sound was my jaw hitting the floor as she says we'll take it pulls out the credit card and signs the rental agreement.

In anticipation that a car might be rented we'd borrowed Monsieur Tom Tom complete with all the required maps of Europe. Out to the parking lot, once around the car, a nifty 5 speed Peugeot 306, hook up M. Tom and off we go. Around the block turn left onto A6. Except there are four left hand lanes, I opt for the extreme right and drive us directly into a a six story parking garage.

Ever so cool I grap the ticket and drive straight to the exit gate on the second floor. It won't open, I see a sharp left next to the gate, take it drive around to the back of the que and try again. No more luck. This time I hit the Info button and ask in my best pidgon French.

"Pardon M. parlay vour Anglais SVP?" Please parlay vour, please! I don't voice that last thought to appear weak in front of the partner is just asking for trouble. "I can't get the gate to open," I'm babelling but not yet sweating or swearing. That comes later.

"Ouy, Monsieur. Just turn to ze left and take ze stairs!" Take the stairs!
Five minutes later we're back on the street. The Peugeot's suspension was spared as the stairs turned out to be a ramp. Now it was across the Rhone, then the Saone, another wrong turn on A6 which was surprisingly empty but going in the wrong direction.

Turned around going the right way and at a complete stop as every driver in Lyon was enterred in what appeared to be the Friday morning crush to get out of Dodge. After a nervous hour of lane jumping, fast action, hard braking, very alert, attentive driving, we're off the A6 and onto a secondary highway heading for Roanne.

First, the highway system in France is so superior to anything in North America you'd think they invented the car. Second, French drivers put us to shame. Yes they drive fast, yes you get one shot at making your decision, but they drive. They don't eat whoppers, drink lates, or talk on cellphones. They drive.

Travel mugs are unheard of. Why would you want one. Cafe cream is a shot of espesso with a shot of cream. It comes in a tiny cup that you sit down at a tiny table and drink. After an indetermined amount of time, never less then 30 minutes, you may seek the attention of your waiter and beg for ze bill. Very civilized. Who would want to take away the coffee and race to your next destination and forego the pleasantry of just sitting around drinking high octane jump juice. An aside. Never had a bad cup of coffee all the time whilst in France. Do you hear that England.

Back on the road. The highway up to Roanne is amazing, I start to settle in feeling out the little 306. Pretty soon I'm living dangerously passing Deuce Cevels, farm tractors and the occassional stationary bus. Life is good.

Amazingly the very best of French engineering seems to have gone into road construction. The pavement is smooth, corners cambered, posted speed signs reflect reality. None of this, "oh my God it's a corner, better slow down to a crawl," postings we see in North America.

It's refreshing.

But then the fill up. 90 Euros for a tank of diesel. Next the tolls once we hit the cross country auto route, another 50 Euros. If we did not have so far to go I'd stick to the secondary roads. In fact I'd like to return, pre rent an affordable car, and just travel around one area; maybe Normandy or the Central Masif.

Eventually we make Aracachon and call the cottage hostest. More about the witch later.

Oh, just one more thing, I did not drive at all in Paris although we took two taxis. The first one featured a lazy, driver who drove in the Formula one position - with the seat back laying on my knees in the back seat. The entire time he chatted away on his blue tooth and stuck to the main roads, crawling trough the conjestion.

The next days driver was a true pro, drove fast made quick decisive lane changes when needed, took short cuts and back roads and got us back to the airport for 10 Euros less then the first driver. Sweet.

2011-07-09T08:04:00.000-07:00

Diner in Lyon

Tonight we found a small establishment in the old town tucked tight into the corner of three intersecting alleys. We started with pre-dinner drinks at a bar just across the alley from our restaurant. Perfect spot for people watching.

Dinner begins with the morning shopping at the local market. Smart chefs, professional and amateur gather at the market and inspired by the daily fresh produce start planning the evening meal.

My repast began with a wonderful salad. Consisting of a round of Camembert cheese, carefully warmed, four spears of baguette, a medley of salad leaves with a Balsamic reduction, and four slices of the sweetest tomatoes to cross my lips in a long long time. The tomatoes, clearly grown in a field kissed by abundant sunlight where rich in flavour and a total delight.

Yet the crowning touch was a tiny jar of fig jam. First the baguette is smoothed in the semi melted cheese then a small dollop of fig jam is added. Bite off the offering and wait for your taste buds to take you to heaven. So simple yet so rich and complex.

The first course was followed by a traditional Lyon dish. Sausage and legumes. Again simplicity is the key. Four medallions of round pork sausage lightly spiced floating on a bed of legumes in a soft Dijon sweetened mustard sauce. Just a hint of sauce; a tease. Vegetarians could drop the sausage. We chose a fine red Cotes du Rhone wine to compliment our meal.

Finally a creme caramel to finish.

On to Lyon

2011-07-08T08:56:00.000-07:00

It was evening when we arrived in Lyon after taking a train from Charles de Gaulle. A few false starts but we managed to find our modest Ibis hotel. Not too far from the train station.

Out first day we spent wandering aboutthe city of bridges. The old town between the Rhone and the La Saone river is charming. Lots of small covered alleys link various streets and avenues.

Lyon is know as the city of bridges, I've no idea how many but it seemed like we wandered over all of them. There appears to be a genetic marker in my wifes family that prevents them from taking any modern form of conveyance. No trams, no bus, and certainly no taxi.

The temperature was soaring all the time we were in Lyon so I was constantly walking around in sweat soaked shirts. Hot, hot hot.
In the old village, Villeaux Lyon there are four main fetures; the funnucular, the St. Jean Cathedral, at the bottom of the hill and Notre Dame de Lyon at the top, and the old Roman theatres. All are worth the visit.

Henry the V was married in the Saint Jean cathedral. It's a beautiful building. Cool and dark after the bright sun and hot and humid temperature outside. The most impressive feature of the church is a midevil clock that chimes, strikes the hour and by the use of clever gearing sends various figures into motion every hour.

As we'd arrived at the bottom of the hour we retired to a pub across the square for a glass of wine and a pint of beer to wait for the clock to strike at 2 PM. True to form we arrived back inside the church five minutes late and missed the show.

The funnucular ride to the top of the hill was crammed with elementary kids on a school outing.
Just as we entered the darkest part of the tunnel the engineer cut the lights and stopped the car, all the kids screamed, some in delight and a few is dispair. But magically the lights and piower came back on and we were off to the top.

The Roman theaters no longer have the canvas tops that provided relief from the mid day sun, so now all the performances happen at night. Ancient engineering with modern technology makes for an impressive show.

Late in the afternoon we did not have enough time to tour the museum but we hung out in the court yard soaking up the cool shade. These small spaces are clearly popular with the locals as well.

Hannah and Gordin's Perfect Vacation

2011-06-22T16:30:00.000-07:00

DATELINE VANCOUVER:

Eight hours out of Victoria and we've already made Vancouver. Modern travel is so convenient. If I was paddling across Georgia |Strait there's no way I could have made it this far in such a short time.

We're now en route to Frankfurt. We had no plans to visit the Teutonic City this morning but the cancellation of our 14 minute 10 AM flight to Vancouver has compounded. Utilizing a mathematical formula devised by mortgage actuaries we will now arrive in Paris on a Thursday in a week yet to be determined.

Not all is lost we just had word from Lufthansa, who came to our rescue after Air Canada failed us, and the word is that the lightning strike has not rendered the aircraft completely un-airworthy and that as soon as they can find a crew willing to fly it we'll be off.

Ya ve vill be fluggin even un half hour earlier den skcedulaled. Dunka. They even threw in a $20 meal voucher which we've drank away at the bar. Air Canada was also very generous and provided us with a $7 coffee voucher good at either Victoria or Vancouver. I used it at Starbucks where the cashier was not sure if it was for $7 each or together. I ensured her it was worth a total of $14. "But sir I can't give you change, she said. That's ok just throw in a chocolate chip cookie and we're even. So she rang up the cookie and it came to an even $100. I turned to the gentleman who was patiently waiting next to me and pointing at the total on the screen said,

"You pay a little more for the cookies but they're worth it." He was still laughing as I picked up my coffee and the double skinny no fat for Hannah. Traveling is a connection of one joyous event followed by another.

So come along with Hannah and I on our tour through France via Germany. I'll promise photos, racy pictures from French beaches and timely updates from exotic places, such as the departure lounge at Vancouver International.

BMW F650GS

2011-06-17T21:38:00.000-07:00

There's a new toy in the garage.
Where I thought I would be sleeping for the rest of my married life. However, there may be something to the old saying, "women like bad men." After the wife got over the shock, I guess she just didn't believe me when I said I was going to buy a motorcycle, things have be running really smooth on the home front.

Excuse me, my breaks over. I've just got to vaccum, wash the floors, dust, do the laundry, make dinner, then iron, mow the lawn......

This is from the top of Mount Tolmie looking southwest over Victoria toward the Olympic Penninsula.

The last shot is looking Northeast back toward Vancouver where the mighty Bruins recently vanquished the Canucks.

Click any picture for a nice blow up. Check out that speedo. That's just nuts.

Took a Little Trip Awhile Ago

2011-04-27T12:18:00.000-07:00

Easter Sunday I chased a gang of kayakers out of Pedder Bay. They were claiming to be the South Island Sea Kayaker's Association (SISKA) but I think they may have really been the Diablo's or maybe members of Madame Cheng's pirate horde.

After a month of conducting intensive hull repairs to the Romany Surf and the HV Explorer, intensive in the sense that the hulls are covered in scratches a few gel-cracks and one cel-goat hole, I had one of the boats ready for sea trials. Fibreglass boats are great. Just bash them about all winter long then gel-coat the damage in the spring. Of course this only pertains to "heavy" British boats, all others would have been holed through after the abuse I throw at kayaks.

Over the winter I'd developed a leak in my skegg box of the Romany after a particularly hard landing on a rock. I brought the boat in dried in out by sticking my wife's hair drier in the aft hold. Next I covered the hatch with a special hatch cover that I have drilled out and put a bicycle tube valve in. I pumped up the pressure up and soaped all the deck pad eyes and the skegg box. Once I'd determined the box was the leaking I did a gel-coat repair. Repeated the process and found I still had a small leak and went at it once more. With the left over gel-coat I filled the worst of the scratches and demelled out the spider cracks and filled them. Then it was wet sanding, wet sanding, and finally polishing and waxing.

Pedder Bay is the tiny little inlet on the middle right of the photo. I loaded the kayak with enough gear for an over night out on the East Sooke Entrance where my in-laws live. The gear was just in case I found my self out-lawed. My finial destination was on the extreme left of the picture just where the shore curves around the spit of land (Whiffin Spit) 12.5 Nautical miles from the put in.

I caught the pirate gang just past Rocky Point as they were about to land on a beach. I slipped in behind some rocks and raised them on the radio. With my best authoritative voice nearly correct radio protocols put the fear into them as they were about to land on a restrictive Department of Defence beach. But I couldn't keep up the ruse, besides I need to land as well. I'd averaged just over 4 knots and covered the distance from the put into to the bay in just under an hour. At least half an hour faster then the gang. After lunch I continued west while they turned back. I completed the trip in four hours riding a favourable current the entire way.

At the Fish Trap Shack beach on the East Sooke Trail I surprised and Otter. He had just fished a spider crab off the bottom when I slid quietly right up behind him. He spy hopped half his length out of the water and his big brown eyes fixed me with the most reproachful stare before he splashed back into the deep.

Further west I came up on a seal sleeping right out in the middle of a crossing. I quietly came up from down wind and could see him bobbing in the waves with his eyes shut. He was only a paddle length away and didn't wake until he caught a whiff of me as I moved up wind. Kayakers do carry a distinctive odour.

Work on the HV Explorer will be complete by weeks end.

23 Years Later

2011-04-19T16:34:00.000-07:00

I enjoy a reputation here in Victoria as a bit of a maverick. Some would even say that I'm reckless, that I have no respect and when it comes to gel-coat they are absolutely correct.

My kayaks are British built by Nigel Dennis and I abuse them. They accumulate lots of scratches and frequent gel-coat cracks. Come spring I undertake repairs. This spring has been has required a little more work then normal, so much so that I turned to an old passion to fill in the time while the boats dried.

After an absence of 23 years I returned to motorcycling. Yesterday I rented a 650 Suzuki V-Strom and rode all over my home town and turf. Mostly I rode the country roads around Victoria. Mind, pulling out of the rental shop I was a tad nervous. Over reved the engine and squared the first dozen corners. But I did not stall.

After a while I even got the bike to lean over as I swept through the turns. Well not to far. I carefully picked my way through town and finially as I broke out of the burbs I was awash in the sensations of travelling in an environment and not just through it.

No the wind did not sweep through my hair, I have too little for that, besides I keep my head wrapped up in a good helmet. I bought the helmet last years and precipitated a major marriage spat. However, yesterday the wind on my face brought me sensations I'd long forgotten. The smell of fresh mowed lawns, the slightly acid smell of burning leaves and cedar logs burning in the fireplace of that cabin by the road. Family responsibilities have kept me from this for far too long.

I rode the bike out along East Sooke Road, turned around and rode back considerably quicker. Stopping at an overlook with a great view of Becher Bay the wind carried the smell of the sea up to the road. I drank deep and filled my lungs with the clean fresh smell of the sea.

From here I swung up over Kangaroo Road, down onto the Sooke Highway then up over Humpback Road over to the main island highway. I skipped the highway and headed up to Prospect Lake Road and made my way up to the town of Sidney. No two lane highways just lots of back country byways. It was a great four hours. Nex tmonth I'm going to repeat the trip but on a lighter BMW. Eventually I'll find a nice mid size bike to squeeze into the garage next to the kayaks.

Winslow Homer

2011-04-19T16:08:00.000-07:00

The American landscape painter Winslow Homer was a genius when it came to capturing water. On my last trip to Boston I rented a car and drove out to Cape Anne to a scene not unlike this.

As we drove along the Marble Head shore the rain was pelting down; hard enough to keep us in the rental car. What is it about east coast rain storms? Here in Victoria, even though we are in the rain shadow of the Olympic peninsula we get rain. But, nothing like the rain that hammers Boston.

During my first trip to Boston my wife and I almost drown in a cloud burst that lasted all of 5 minutes. On the second visit a flash flood swept the streets of down town Boston. The water was well above our ankles, brown; polluted with the worst you can imagine. We were wearing sandals.

A day later in the Museum of Fine Art I found this painting. It could have been painted the day before up in Marble Head. Homer masterfully captured the power and dynamic nature of the sea. Standing back and admiring his work brought forth such a longing to get back onto the water. Weeks later I've still to return to the sea. Soon.

More thoughts on the Museum of Fine Arts - Boston

2011-04-11T09:15:00.000-07:00

On day three of my trip to Boston we rented a car and drove up to Cape Anne. We decided to skip the freeway and took the old highway anticipating a nice coastal drive.

Turns out the old highway just wanders through these old rust belt working class neighbourhoods. Combined with the cold wet rain it was a rather depressing drive up to Salem. In Salem we checked out the historic homes on Chestnut Street.

The entire street is a national historic site and the homes are protected by a series of covenants. The street is lined with stately old maples and oaks and must be a thing of amazing beauty when the leaves turn in the fall.

After Salem we finally reached the coast and leisurely wove our way through Rockport, Marblehead and Cape Anne. The estate homes of the burgers or commerce, trade, shipping, and forestry from 200 years ago form a rather startling contrast to the working class towns closer to Boston. The gap between the ultra rich and even ordinary middle class Americans is very large indeed.

Clearly though the highlight for me was Marblehead. As the road inches closer to the sea just below a low bank the Atlantic was pounding its way through a series of off shore rocks. Wonderful rock gardens just off shore, an on shore wind, and a rising tide. If only I'd had a kayak.

So while my wife looked at the mansions to the left I watched the sea to the right and plotted how I could seal launch off some nabobs front lawn.

We managed to get in a fast second visit to the MFA before heading off to the airport for one of those nothing goes right flights home.

I'm a bit of a nut for landscapes and while reveling in the American and European wing I came across a Winslow Homer that reminded me of the Atlantic up at Marblehead.

I had a great time disrupting an art lecture in the Dutch masters gallery. A young art professor was introducing his troupe of college students to the brilliance of Rembrandt. But when he referred the old master as a "brand." I think he called him the first recognized brand name; I thought this is a bit much.

He went on and to make his point he asked the students how many had actually heard of Rembrandt. Most put up their hands. Then he asked how many could name three of his paintings. He paused and no hands went up. So just as he was about to continue I struck.

"Belshazzar's Feast, A Turk, Man in a Black Hat, Rembrandt as a Young Man in a Black Hat, and of course his master piece The Night Watch, I'd go on but I have a lunch date but do carry on." As the stuffed shirt glared back at me I slipped through the door smiling. What fun.

April Fools Day in Boston

2011-04-03T14:17:00.000-07:00

Arrived during a snow storm and woke up in the morning to this. It didn't take long for things to start looking up. The snow turned to rain and the rain to sunshine.

Friday night we got to the theater to watch Faustus. My son Matthew did the staging and lighting for the play. It was a very interesting interpretation of the classic story of good versus evil. The entire production unfolds on a slightly raised platform surrounded by a moat.

The key prop however is paint. Gallons and gallons of paint. Fortuitously no one was allowed to sit in the front row. Pared down to the essentials just the devil, Mephistopheles and Faustus and lots of paint.

The next night was Gilbert and Sullivan's the Merry Yeoman. Matthew built a two story high replica of the Tower of London for this endeavour. Very impressive. All those years watching his Dad measuring once and cutting twice seemed to have paid off. Wait a minute that's measure .... Oh the operetta was lots of fun but not your typical G&S as it ends with clear winners and losers.

Between shows his Mother went on a thirty kilometer run along the Charles why I pursued intellectual endeavours with a visit to the Museum of Fine Arts. MFA - take it in if you ever make it to Boston. Look for John Singer Sargent's painting called "A Capriote". It features the most beautiful woman, Rossina Ferrara in the entire museum and is in my view the finest painting in the American collection. Landscapes excepted.

I could have spent for more time at the mfa and will return when I next visit Boston.

Changing Plans

2011-03-28T12:37:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the smart thing to do is to throw out the plan. Sunday we'd planned to do a one way paddle from Weirs Beach to Becher Bay. One way trips are unusual here in Victoria. Out and backs are easy to plan and execute. Out and backs also seem to fall into clock management. Even with it's high number of retirees people in Victoria like most others are covered by the clock.

For this trip we threw out the clock and planned to paddle the tides. We hoped to ride the ebb winds all the way. Unfortunately the wind conditions warranted a rethink and we tossed out the plan and launched from Becher Bay marina headed out to the DND property then retraced our path back to the marina.

Becher Bay is a wonderful destination and I'm surprised it's not on more peoples top list of sites to paddle around Victoria. Lots of rock gardens to play in,especially on the east shore. In fact I'll be repairing nice gel coat hole later today.

It was a great day to be on the water. We covered 6.64Nm out top speed was 5.9 Kt, we paddled 2hr 23 min, with a moving avg of 2.8 kt.s and stopped to 1hr 20 min. which reduced our overall avg spd to a breath taking 1.8 kts. Stopped time and overall averages are essentially useless bits of information as the stop time includes everything from the time I turn the GPS on when loading until the time I remember to shut it off. Usually one of the last things I do after returning home.

Race Rocks

2011-03-22T20:02:00.000-07:00

It was a perfect day to visit Race Rocks and play in the current. We launched from Weir's Beach onto a 6.2 ebbing freight train. In very little time we made Race Rocks. This was one of those rare days of no wind. So when we raced the tidal over falls there were no standing wind waves - just lots of chaos.

Most of the action was happening at the South east corner of the islets.You can get a good sense of how we knocked about in the over falls from this second image.

Even without the wind there was lots of wave action to keep you focused. The odd low brace was required, my face got washed more then once, and I even got slammed sideways in the chest from a blind side that shifted the entire kayak about two feet. It felt like I'd been hip checked during a hockey game.

After knocking about we made our way around the main island where someone emerged to video tape our delinquent behaviour.
We then slipped over to Bentinck Island for lunch then made our way back to the put in. Trip 10.1Nm Max Spd 7.8kt Mov Time 3hr 11 min. Mov Avg 3.1 kt Stopped time 1hr 42 min Overall avg 2 kt.

Ides of March

2011-03-16T22:58:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was a great day to be on the water. We started off with a nice bit of south east swell being pushed along by a dying SE wind. Maybe 15 knots. Earlier in the morning the wind was blowing 22 knots at the Discovery Island light house.

When we slipped out of Rat Bay into Enterprise channel we were met by some metre high waves. Both Dan and I were hoping things would build but for the most part conditions remained the same for most of the day. There was a minimal flood flowing for the first half of the trip and we'd hoped the sea might start to rock and roll as we came back down Baynes and through the Chain Islets but other then the current push not much happened.

That is until we turned west to re-enter Enterprise Channel. Here the swell caught us from the aft port quarter but for the most part was running too fast to catch any meaningful rides.

we travelled 9.25Nm with a max speed of 7.8kts. Our moving time was 3 hours, our moving Avg speed 3.1 kts, our stopped time 1hr and 34 min and our overall avg was a whopping 2kts.

Tall Tales

2011-03-14T19:49:00.000-07:00

Last week I mounted two cameras to the deck of the Romany and headed out. A WP10 Pentax facing forward mounted on the port quarter fired still shots every 10 second for a total of 250 pictures.

After a reset it fired another 250 and from those just over thirty were uploaded to the slide show that can be found in the right hand column of this blog. I'm going to try this experiment again only with the camera offset to shoot about thirty degrees to the left. Otherwise there's too much bow in the photos.

The second camera was a HD FLIP in a water proof case mounted on the right forward quarter deck and pointing aft. Both cameras were mounted with suction cups. A Ram held the larger Flip camera and a Fat Gecko held the Pentax. The Gecko cost about $50 at London Drugs. I highly recommend it. The FLIP shoots remarkable digital. Very clear. It's much larger then a GoPro but might be worth it if you want to become a video mogul. It comes with an extension arm and is more articulated.

With the Flip pointing aft it mostly captured the motor. In this case I hired a local actor to play the part of Victoria Kayaker. As you can see it wasn't a total success. The guy kept going out of character, isn't nearly as good looking as he thinks he is and simply refused to use a high angle paddle stroke.

He kept winning, "The paddle gets in front of my face." And when I did get him to raise his hands he kept smacking the cameras when he put the paddle in on the catch.

To cap it all off, he kept going off script and to relate these goofy stories.

I've fired him. Judge for yourself. But will attempt a re-shoot. Hopefully the next endeavour will result in a little more action.

Tuesday Last

2011-03-11T08:22:00.000-08:00

Got out for an afternoon paddle over to the Discovery Islands just off Oak Bay last Tuesday with my good friend Dan. After a few hours we were joined by Mike who had escaped the class room for a short recess.

I've no GPS track of the trip, my batteries died, but I did experiment with a couple of cameras mounted on my deck. I also field tested a temporary repair to a leaking skeg box. That effort failed as well. Still the results have put me on the right track - Gel-coat will be required.

As for the camera's I mounted a high definition Flip camera on the foredeck facing stern to capture pictures of the motor. Unfortunately the person playing the part of the engine was a complete bore and will be sent off to study some method acting techniques at the William Shatner school of drama.

I mounted a second still camera on a suction cup stock outbound on the starboard bow quarter side of the kayak. My intention was to capture pictures minus the bow of the kayak. I had mixed results here as well. I failed to consider the width of the camera lens and as you will see the bow figures prominently in many of the shots. I will retry in the future when I'll simply point the camera further off centre. I should get some dramatic images in rough water.

On Tuesday the camera was set to snap a picture every 10 seconds for a total of 225 shots. By the time I got onto the water the tide race in Baynes channel had run its course and we were surrounded by flat water. I reset the camera after Mike joined us and shot another 250 pictures.

When I got home I attacked the stack of photos and ruthlessly edited out about 475 pictures. Digital photography has a big advantage. The resulting pictures on on the adjoining slide show. I hope you find them interesting.

March Madness

2011-03-01T18:24:00.000-08:00

The camera and mount was tucked away warm and dry in the day hatch because today was going to be a flat water paddle. Problem was someone forgot to tell the ocean. Dan and I launched from Rat Bay just at the tick of 10 AM.

Our plan was to paddle north east cross Mayor Channel, through the Chain Islets, cross Plumper Passage, then up between the Chatham Islands, then drop back to the south east round Discovery and head back to the put in.

We had a falling flood tide running at 1.2 knots (Race Rocks) against what was suppose to be a South East wind between 15 and 25 knots. The wind was more out of the east and maybe between 10 and 15 knots. Which was a good thing.

As soon as we poked out into Enterprise Channel from the shelter of Rat and MacNeill Bay it was clear the forecast and sea state was a little wobbly. We ploughed into some significant swell pushing against the constricted flood moving through Enterprise. The wind having pushed the swell all the way from Whidbey Island was greeting us with some significant waves.

Anyone who's paddled this area when the seas are running out of the south east knows the waves really start to stand on their heads as they wash over Mouat Reef. True to form we found some three and four metre waves between Mouat Reef and Gonzales Point.

After punching through we discussed our plan and decided maybe going around Discovery wasn't such a good idea. We held to our plan, but instead of swinging south east at the top of Chatham Island, we turned west and rounded Strongtide and raced south west with the now ebbing current and East wind pushing us along.

On the return I don't think our speed ever dropped below 4.5 knots and after breaking out past the Chain Islets on the return we never dipped below 6 knots.

Although the entire paddle was great fun this is where the madness really got it's hooks into us.

With the swell coming in straight out of the east on a bearing of about 290 the waves were breaking in toward the golf course between Gonzales Point and Turkey Head. Surfing straight down the fast moving waves would give us a short momentary ride but in the wrong direction.

Without communicating our intentions both of us instinctively started to side surf the waves. We lifted our right knee and let the starboard side of the kayaks just bite into the waves. We set up a long ferry glide by pointing our bows at the light house at the south end of Trial Island. Doing this allowed us to surf forward from one wave to the next. I think I only climbed the back of a wave a half dozen times between the Chain Islets and Gonzales. Speeds here were over a sustained 6 knots with a max speed of 7.6 knots off one wave by rocks just west of the point. Not bad for a slow NDK Explorer.

It's been my experience that a lot of boats are faster then the NDK Romany and Explorers on flat water. But when things get rough the confidence that NDK kayaks give the paddler enables them to power forward leaving a lot of those flat water flashers behind. One exception to this is the Tahe Marine. I've no doubt that Dan could sink me like a stone should he wish. Then again it might be the engine.

Stats: Trip 8.71Nm, Max Spd. 7.6kts, Moving time 2 hrs. 37 min. Moving Average 3.3kts. Stopped time 1 hr. 26 min. (Dan talks a lot)

Happy Birthday!

2011-02-28T09:29:00.000-08:00

I'm clearly doing something wrong. Here's a couple of photos of gifts my wife gave me for my Birthday.

Item 22057 as you can see comes from the distant and exotic middle kingdom more commonly called China. It appears to be a box stuffed with tissue paper and this.

I invite all to speculate on what this is.

My wife very thoughtfully bought me flowers. Yellow daisy's. I believe those are the flowers you give to acquiescences, invalid ladies, and to employees who are leaving but not soon enough. We opened a bottle of bubbly had a piece of fantastic cheese cake and curled up. Her on the couch with her iPad, which she got from another man for Christmas, and has not put down since, and me with item number 2 above in the seldom used love seat.

Later I was informed it's a spray skirt. Lovely.

Tuesday I'm hosting the, "My spouse has an iPad support group." I'll be serving left over cheese cake and everyone goes home with a daisy and one very lucky attendee will get a special door prize.

Sooke Inlet

2011-02-28T08:36:00.000-08:00

Sooke Inlet is a fantastic place to kayak. Traditionally it has been a wild west coast style of paddling destination. It can be extreme, unforgiving and remote.

Alas the remote part is being encroached upon by the gradual development of homes in the Silver Spray real estate project at the end of East Sooke Road.

Luckily the building has not really affected the views. At the rate the houses are going up it will be years before the landscape is greatly altered. The two exceptions are the lame and future optimistic "marina," and the fictional fresh water treatment plant.

Yesterday I got in a short paddle with my sister in law Robin and her friend Joan from Prince Robert out along this coast. It was one of those maritime days where squalls would blow in, out, and then blow back in. We managed to squeeze our paddling into the gap between two of the squalls. Currents Race Rocks Turn 1008 Max 1519 -4.6 Just as we finished the predicted afternoon gale winds arrived. Trip 4.04 nm Max speed 7.9 kt in the standing waves off of Whiffen Spit, Moving time 1h 33 min. Temperature -3 to +6 Wind west 10 to 15 rising to 20 to 35 in afternoon. Tucked in tight by the fire when the winds started driving the rain straight into the windows. Nice to be warm with a cupa tea.

Check the adjoining slide show for more pics. Best viewed on a full screen.

White Water Wednesday

2011-02-23T22:12:00.000-08:00

As you can see there was a lot of white water around Victoria today. So much so that many simply stayed home. I had thoughts of getting in a quick hour or so before going in for work.

However, I pulled the kayak off the roof. Swept most of the snow away and headed off early so as not to be late for work. This is what the road looked like at the corner of Ash Road and Mount Doug.

Six of the crew called in to say they would not make it. It made for a busy day at the airport but all but a few plans got out on schedule. Tonight's low is -7 and the high for tomorrow will only be -1. So I think I'll just go for a walk in the snow.

Sunday out to Trial Island

2011-02-21T21:45:00.000-08:00

Sunday saw us to Trial Island for a short paddle. My good friends Mike and Dennis met me at the Oak Bay Marina having paddled down from Mikes house up in Cadboro Bay. Launching at Oak Bay made for a short paddle but there where things to do at home.

Unfortunately my problems with GPS navigation continue. This time I'd forgotten to reset the unit from my last outing. I discovered my mistake when I looked at my maximum speed and it read 6.4 knots. Whoa! I wasn't even paddling and the max ebb was only 4.5 knots. Of course the reading was from my tide race excursion with Dan from earlier in the week.

Out at Trial we stopped to say hello to the Lighthouse keeper only to find a temporary keeper looking after things while the full time keeper gets some R&R. This was her first ever lighthouse posting. She was getting a little worried about running out of supplies. The tender was out of service so she was waiting for the Coast Guard helicopter to bring her resupplies.

Seems odd having groceries delivered by helicopter to an island that's less then a mile off shore from Victoria. I guess it would be to dangerous to deliver the groceries via boat. Or perhaps the Coast Guard has more flyers then sailors.

Back at Oak Bay we discovered a neat little hover craft floating on a raft anchored just off shore. Mike snapped a few photos. My camera was uselessly stored in the hatch. At the boat ramp where I'd put in a guy was pulling an old flat bottom wooden skiff up the ramp. It looked like hard work, so I waited until he appeared to be finished, then offered a hand. Timing is everything. I was afraid he might be pulling the thing down the side walk into Oak Bay Village. But luckily he had arranged to be met by a friend with a pick up truck.

I quickly looked the boat over and estimated it weighed about 500 pounds. I figured if I rushed I could be loaded and gone before the truck arrived and could avoid the effort of grunting and straining to get the thing in the back of the truck.

I hate being rushed but I got away clean.

Shackleton's whisky

2011-02-19T10:10:00.000-08:00

What fools we mortals be.Take a look at this bit of folly. Just click on the above headline and read. Can you believe the scientific community.

What sort of fools would leave perfectly good whisky on a frozen lump of rock. It must have broken Shackleton's heart to leave this stash behind but he was a man with visionary leadership and knew what had to be done.

And now his heart must be breaking all over again. Two, that's right "two", cases of whisky were left behind along with a case of fuel oil called brandy.

Surely to God there are some intrepid kayakers out there that are prepared to mount and expedition to correct this oversight.

The remaining cases should be recovered and used to toast Shackeleton on the anniversary of his crews safe return until the last drop is gone.

The celebrations could be held at the Royal Society in London. Those toasting could be chosen by an international lottery. That would be in keeping with Shackeleton's belief in a meritocracy. Well at least everyone could have a go at a wee dram.

Best of all the whisky would not go to some gob with a snoot full of money which is what those money grubbing New Zealand Antarctic Heritage Trust types seem to have in mind for the case they recovered.

Think about this. There's 624 rounds of one ounce each in two cases. A proper toast requires two drinkers so the event could be held for the next 312 years before the whisky runs out. Say lottery tickets cost $10 each and each year you sold 10,000 tickets around the world. That's a $100,000 a year for 312 years for a gross of $31,200,000. The two winners could be flown first class to London from anywhere in the world and put up in the Savoy each year and the earnings would still be insane.

There might even be enough to fund the New Zealand Antarctic Heritage Trust for a couple of seasons. Perhaps some of the money might even fund some meaningful scientific work in the polar region. If the NZ types can't see the logic in this I hope the residents of King Edward Point go for a walk about, dig up the remaining cases, and start the lottery.

And as for sending bottles to Canterbury. Good lord, doesn't anyone remember the closing scene in Raiders of the Lost Arc. Kiss those bottles good bye. The best that can be hoped for is for some janitor to discover them, drink the contents, and refill the bottles with tea.

Early Morning in Baynes

2011-02-18T22:01:00.000-08:00

Brrrrrrrrr! The east wind was blowing cold mountain air straight off the Cascades. Launching from Smuuglers Cove or Maynard Bay means you don't get a warm up in before you're right in the midst of the tide race.

Today Dan and I got down to the beach at 08:30 and were on the water just before 09:00 We moved faster then usual just to stay warm. As it was I quickly lost dexterity in my hands as I tried to tighten my hood and had to have Dan help out. Pogies saved my hands.

Out on the water I estimated the east wind was blowing between 20 and 25 knots. The current was ebbing at 4 knots. At the far side of the channel a fishing boat must of been practising rough water piloting as it kept pulling up through the race then would back down into it again. Much the same way as we normally do.

Today there were some very large standing waves just off the Cadboro Point light. We opted to surf the waves a little further to the north-east. Wish I'd had the Romany Surf as the HV Explorer cannot match the shorter boat in the surf zone. Dan got in some good rides but we were both cold and gave up on the surfing and opted to swing down below the light.

South of the light we were surprised to see the standing waves were only two or three sets deep. It may have been because the water was so low, or because the wind was primarily out of the east and not the normal southeaster.

From there we ferried over to the islands and climbed up through the diminishing ebb in the Sluice. By the time we poked out above Strongtide Island the current was dropping fast. Luckily for us the wind was holding and we quickly ferry glided back across to the light and into the cove. Dan finished with some rolls while I wimped out, my hood wasn't tight, and only did some braces. Man I was cold.

We had the boats back on the cars and were off. I even managed to make it to work on time. Total distance 3.46 Nm. Ma speed 6.4 knots. Moving time 1 hr 26 min. Moving avg 2.4knots. Over all average 2.3 knots.

ARRRRGH!

2011-02-13T20:59:00.000-08:00

I'd like to kill the person who invented GPS. A compass I can understand but apparently GPS is beyond me. First up on a "simple Etrex Legend Hcx", there are six buttons each of which is capable of 4,222 different operations. Yea like I'm going to remember all this crap. Here's a tip if a company uses more then 10 letters from the alphabet to name the product - it's a safe bet you don't want it.

MEN buy C A R S and T R U C K S. They don't buy, "Nissan 4Runners 4X4 V6 BS Extend Cab Hybrids XLC,TDI,SLR,SOBS. Those things are bought by focus group weenies.

So far I've saved possibly four different tracks from four different kayak trips I have recently made with this GPS. Or maybe not. Two of these I have successfully loaded onto Google Earth and published here. I think the other two have been up loaded to Google Mars. Being a potentially dry planet I'm rather proud of that achievement.

I have also down loaded two GPS mapping programs. One has a 13 page Tutorial written in an Ozie Greek dialect that is only spoken on Ratatunka. The others junk.

Don't be mistaken I'm not giving up on this.

Tomorrow morning after the sun has come up I'm climbing over the back fence and retrieving the GPS from my neighbours back yard. I'll strap it to the deck of the kayak, drive down to the ocean, go for a paddle, come home and attempt to upload some info and just like that my heart rate will go up and my blood pressure will peak.

But that's all good because I got the damn GPS to help be get my heart rate and exercise quotient up. Look at that speed 4.2 knots lets go for 4.3 So it's all good. Sort of. Oh by the way I paddled 9.78 nautical miles in 2hrs and 52 minutes, with a max speed of 5.5 Kts, an average speed of 3.4 kt and although it was a calm day with little current managed to gain 56 metres in elevation which is apparently how high my house is above sea level.

Back to Baynes Channel

2011-02-07T23:45:00.000-08:00

Sunday I met up with Mike, Dan, Paulo, George and a new friend Gerhardt. We paddled out to Baynes Channel and then over to Discovery Island. On the way we came across a wonderful site. Two kayakers basking in the excitement of a great morning paddle.

When we arrived at Cadboro Point Yves and Patty where on the shore. Yves was jumping up and down like a little boy shouting in his French Canadian accent, "you should have seen it, the waves where huge". He and Patty had arrived and launched from the adjacent Smugglers Cove at 8:30. They got into the tide race at it's peak. If you ever meet Yves his enthusiasm and charm will win you over in a flash and you'll have made another friend.

It didn't take long for the old hands at Baynes tide race to get excited and soon Yves, Patty and all but, Mike and Gerhardt were back into the race to surf the waning waves. Gerhardt was trying out one of Mike's skin on frames so kept everything cautious as he sorted out the handling.

It was great fun to see all the kayaks out in the race. Wish more locals would push their skills and test themselves out here even if it does mean it'll get crowded. Eventually I came back in and hooked up the camera to take some shots. I missed most of the best of the action but click on the headline to view the entire photo set. I set the camera to take 160 pictures, one every 10 seconds.

East Sooke Park From Becher Bay

2011-02-07T15:56:00.000-08:00

Last Tuesday found Dan, Heike, and myself surfing our way out to Juan De Fuca Strait, down along the East Sooke Park shoreline to the old Trap Shack. What a glorious day. We launched from the First Nations Marina and had a favouring wind and ebb to carry us out. Once passed Beechy Head the shoreline is truly amazing. On Tuesday we had just the right amount of swells to ensure we could have a lot of fun without a lot of worry or tension. Make no mistakes out here as there's only two possible pull outs between Becher Bay and Sooke Basin.

Click on the head line to see the entire photo file or click here.

Haro Strait Weather Reporting Buoy

2010-12-12T09:37:00.000-08:00

Haro Strait
Warnings

Current Conditions * Past 24 Hour Conditions * Regional Summary

The data for the page you have requested is not available. Please return to your previous selection or to the Marine Weather homepage.

Well thanks a lot Coast Guard Canada. This important ""automated" weather reporting buoy has been off line since the November snow storm that hit Victoria BC more then six weeks ago.

This is not a remote buoy. It sits on a reef in the middle of Haro Strait; part of the main shipping channel that links the port of Vancouver with the Pacific Ocean. It lies less then 15 nautical miles from the main CG base in Victoria and about equal distance to the CG station in Pat Bay.

The Kelp Reef buoy is in an exposed group of rocks south-east of Darcy Island. When it's working (it frequently fails in winter gales and storms) it provides real time wind speed data which is vitally important to recreational kayakers who might be venturing out to the Discovery Island group just off Oak Bay.

Kelp Reef is totally exposed to both north winds and more importantly the south east winds that almost always accompany our worst storms. The north wind brings cold and snow but the more frequent SE storms usually cause more damage. During these storms SE winds will build large ocean swells and drive them across the east entrance of Juan de Fuca Strait into Haro Strait.

The swell and wind warps around the top end of Chatham Island races across the narrow gap and to slam into the end of 10 Mile Point. This gap is Baynes Channel the narrowest crossing to Chatham and Discovery Island. When the SE winds and swell piles up against an ebb flowing out of Haro Strait this is a potential grave yard for any inexperienced or ill informed boater.

I once witnessed a NewWest tug, pulling a barge, narrowly miss being capsized in such conditions as it struggled to get through the gap. At the other end of Haro Straight myself and a group of kayakers,, lunching on Rum Island, stood transfixed as an oil tanker misjudged the current and winds lost control and did a complete 360 before resuming its way down Haro Strait.

CG Canada is proposing that the last manned light house stations on the coast be shut down and replaced by automated units that would be maintained via helicopter and other CG vessels.

Sorry but that's a bad idea.http://picasaweb.google.com/gordin.warner/NovemberStormInHaroStrait#5550751259977832338 This is a link to a short clip of a November Gale in Haro Strait. The view is north toward Haro, Dacy Island and Cordova Bay.

NEW TULIK

2010-12-06T15:38:00.000-08:00

I recently had a custom tulik made for me and after a month of wearing it paddling around Victoria I'm glad to say I am more then happy with it.

It was made by Paulo Ouellet who is starting a small company www.comfortpaddling.net

Paulo came by and after measuring me up, showed me some Goretex cloth samples and within a week had the tulik ready. It's both breathable and water proof, all the stitches are seam taped and the wrist gaskets are super heavy duty. I suspect they'll be far more robust then those found on typical dry suits.

Best of all is the seal around your face. Cinch it down adjust the Velcro on the sides of the hood and you have a water proof seal that does not feel like your face has been shoved through a rubber hose.

I've been wearing the tulik over my dry suit. If I didn't go swimming as much as I do I'd just wear it over a wet suit or a pair of dry pants and a sweater that Paulo also made for me. Paulo wears his over the fleece sweater and dry pants. Of course he doesn't go in the water as much as I do. The sweaters have removable hoods designed to be worn under the tulik hood. They're perfect for these cold winter days.

Here's a brief video of the tulik in action.

Big Seas!

2010-12-03T12:52:00.000-08:00

Tuesday I was tested. In the middle of it I thought of crying out for Mummy. Glad you were not there to see it.

My good friends Paulo and Dan joined me for a circumnavigation of Discovery ahead of what was suppose to be some nasty weather but straight into the remains of Monday night's Gale. It was about 10:30 when we pushed out into the swells that were warping around Chatham Island and sweeping across the north end of Baynes Channel. The swells were only occasionally breaking but frequently exceeded two metres by a good bit.

I was feeling a little concerned about crossing Baynes. I was afraid we might get over and not be able to get back should the forecasted winds arrive early. Consequently I packed a stove, pot, water, tea, and an enlarged emergency kit etc.

The real kayaking test was off of Sea Bird reef at the south east corner of Discovery Island. We'd made our way down the west side of the island archipelago, riding the turning tide, and playing in rock gardens that were more normally dry.

At the south end of Plumber Channel we came together to make our second call of the day. We quickly decided to push on and reassess when we reached the east end of Discovery. When we got to Sea bird Reef swells having march across the entire width of Juan de Fuca Strait were steepening up into the oncoming tidal current and the shelving bottom.

Dan and Paulo stopped and expressed some concern and amazement at the size of the swell. I kept looking across the Strait at the clouds and smoke from the stacks on the American side of Juan de Fuca. Clearly the wind was picking up over in the shadow of the Olympic Mountains. Back over my shoulder along the ridge of the Sooke Hills beyond Victoria the skies were darking with the next rain front. It seemed to me it would be easier and faster to continue on around. Wrong!

Collectively we decided to push on but to swing wide around the reef. No sooner had we committed when one, two, three; endless lines of these monster swells rolled in. There was no margin for error. A mistake would have been catastrophic. It took us at least a half an hour to cover the distance from the Light House to the corner of the boat house bay - maybe half a nautical mile.

At one point we'd look over at the utility shack and we simply did not move forward. Hardest day I had paddled in a long long time; maybe ever. Dan who is very conservative about these sort of things estimated the waves to be 20 feet. I won't dispute that.

I had worked out a pattern of paddling hard up each wave face. At the top I would pause let the crest fall way then make a controlled surf down into the trough. This worked fine and I only buried the bow once right up to my chest. Once I missed a brace and thought I might loose it, but somehow instinctively recovered. I think that's when I wanted to go home to Mum.

When I could I finally took a good look back but I could see neither Dan or Paulo. First I looked over my left shoulder then my right. I was working through the rescue scenario and had decided the first step would be to call in a May Day, give our position to Victoria Rescue and head back. Just then I rode up a crest as they both reached the peak of another monster about 200 metres and two or three sets away. Nice to see them again. I was surprised to learn I had pulled so far ahead.

Paulo later suggested I either had the fear of god in me or had to take a leak. Right on both counts.

After a short beak we headed back against the building ebb through the islands and back across Baynes. Paulo and Dan choose to paddle out and drift back above the tide race that was forming in Baynes Channel. I followed until I estimated that I could slide in behind the wave train and come ashore by the Cadboro Point light. Tired but very glad to get back.

Closing Staffed Lighthouses

2010-11-22T15:26:00.000-08:00

Canada's federal government is once again pushing to close the last staffed lighthouses on the west and coast. Surprise Surprise.

This is yet another attempt to pander to the no tax crowd from which the current version of the Conservative Government draws support.

Lets see here's $16 billion for 60 jet fighters so a couple of dozen jet jockeys can race back and forth across the country protecting us from USSR cold war bombers. Wait I just looked it up in Wikipedia and the cold war is over.

So we can throw away billions but can't spare a few million to keep lighthouses staffed.

It's been argued that our east and west coast can be protected just like our northern boarder where there's a string of automated radar huts protecting Canada's sovereignty. Those huts where built as a result of a United States initiative and were initially staffed with Canadian and American soldiers to protect us from the Reds coming over the Arctic Circle. The Grunts are gone but the sites remain.

Unfortunately because we have such an invisible presence in the Arctic the Americans, Russians, and Danes to name a few don't recognize Canada's dominion over this area. Here's hoping the Northwest Passage doesn't thaw further.

Well it occurs to me that staffed Lighthouses are remote points of sovereignty. Cue the Molson Canadian commercial. Patriotism was contracted out in the 2008 Federal Budget. Coastal Search And Rescue responsibilities of the coast guard were divested to volunteers as a cost saving move years ago.

Now staffed light houses will go. Soon those lost or in peril on our coasts will be able to count on the same world class service we provide for those lost or in danger in the remote northern regions of Canada.

Up north your emergency warning beacon sends a flash signal to an orbiting satellite which relays the signal to Canada's Command SAR centre in Trenton Ontario which is actually south of Portland Oregon.

From there highly trained and dedicated crews climb aboard their vintage 1950 four engined propeller driven planes and fly non stop for as much as 48 hours to get on site and tag your remains.

OK; on the coasts the SAR techs will show up in a 50 year old Sea King helicopter. Take comfort.

Men who go to sea in ships should not hold domain over those who stand sentinel ashore. It's bad policy.

The Definative Stern Rudder

2010-11-21T21:20:00.000-08:00

Renowned kayaker and film maker Brian Smith has teamed with Leon Somme and Shawna Franklin of the equally renowned Body Boat Blade kayak school and Canoe and Kayak on line to bring us three excellent training videos. Check them out. Click the headline

Warren Williamson Owns Deception Pass

2010-11-21T21:13:00.000-08:00

Sea Kayaker Magazine - Come On Man Step Up

2010-11-19T09:34:00.000-08:00

While waiting for a ferry home from Orcas Island I picked up the latest edition of Sea Kayaker magazine.

The current edition includes a historical look at kayaking in the 20's and 30's. Thankfully this article was not about African Americans who might have taken up kayaking in the 1920's or 30's. Clearly if SK's accompanying explanation is followed to it's logical conclusion they would have felt compelled to use the historical "N" word.

I shudder just imagining the fall out that would have generated.

It's unfortunate that SK having recognize that at least two groups, the Inuit of Northern Canada and the Aluets of Alaska, find the term Eskimo pejorative SK went ahead and used it anyway; forgoing the opportunity to correct a term used out of ignorance or worse. Failing to correct the historical inaccuracy simply perpetuates an old mistake and fails to demonstrate respect toward the Inuit and Aluets.

2010-09-04T12:11:00.000-07:00

Paris

Two days in Paris and I no longer sound like a rube from Purgatory Ontario. Not bad for a guy with two weeks of grade nine French. Don't get me wrong. I wanted to learn French in high school but my basketball coach told me, "you have to keep your grade average up and that Dike fails all the jocks in her French class." Just because she was Dutch was no reason to slander her. Nevertheless I left the French lessons behind to my everlasting regret.

Now when I enthusiastically greet people in Paris they don't look at me as a poor Angles, they look upon me more as the village idiot from Gaston. I'm moving up.

Our first stop of the day was the Rodin Museum, it was just around the corner and only six kilometres from the hotel - so we walked. We could have take the tube from the hotel door and got out at the gate to the museum but it was pouring rain so we walked. Once inside we picked up a floor map rented the audio guides and headed off. The museum started life as the Hotel Biron. After falling on hard times it was taken over by nuns who operated it as a school. Judging by the way they stripped the building of all its paintings it must have been a rather bleak school. Next it became an artist community headed up by Rodin himself and finally if evolved into the museum it is today.

As this was an evolutionary process there are some quirky things going on. For instance the floor map is conveniently numbered as is the audio guide. Unfortunately the exhibits and floor map numbering system are not entirely related to the audio guide. I believe this is done as a test to humble the casual tourists. Just as you begin to see what Rodin was doing to the face of that poor gargoyle you realize you are actually facing the wrong way and the audio guide is talking about the piece behind you. These French artist enjoy a clever joke as much as the rest of us.

Rodin was of course a genius. He worked on the Gates of Hell for 30 years making changes trying to get it just right. Interestingly his mistress went crazy and had to be confined for the last 30 years of her life. Hmmmm! According to my long suffering wife I too have been working towards the Gates of Hell and will have no trouble passing through them.

Perhaps the most remarkable part of the tour is the stroll through the gardens. Here the scale of the sculptures are displayed to their perfect glory. Late spring would be an ideal time to visit when the trees, shrubs and beds are in full bloom. Of course, "The Thinker," is very prominent. You come across it just before you enter the main museum. The Gates of Hell are off to the right but the sculpture that I found most intriguing was that of the Burgers of Calais. If you walk through the gardens counter clockwise it'll be the last one you see before you exit the property.

After leaving the Rodin museum we headed to the Musee d'Orsay. This is a converted railway station right along the south bank of the Seine. It is an impressive museum, very grand in it's scale. It contains works from Monet, Manet, Renoir, Cezanne, Van Gogh and countless others. With it's soaring ceiling this is a very impressive site and would be worthy of an extended multi day visit, but we were running short of time so we had to skip out with only a couple of Monet,s and a Cezanne under our coats.

Day Two

Leaping backward from Rodin to the the Palace of Versailles we disembark from the metro and walk 500 meters turn the corner and there's the Palace. On this cold wind swept day it does not immediately overwhelm. But as we approach the gates the sun breaks free of the clouds and the gates ignite in a wild display of golden light, just as quickly the sun retreats leaving us with only a hint of what awaits inside.

If you have an Internet ticket go to the stone outpost to the right of the gate and exchange your electronic ticket for a proper pass. Don't go directly to the main entrance without the pass. You'll end up going back for it. Do get an audio guide, again they can be quirky but with thousands of people jostling for position they're ideal - just stick the speaker to your hear and ignore the throngs.

Opulence is not a grand enough word to describe Versailles. From its beginning as a hunting lodge Louis XIV created what is one of the worlds leading heritage sites. The Hall of Mirrors, the grand canal and fountains are astounding. For me the Grand and Petite Trianon's were fascinating. Being almost a mile from the main Palace in the Marie-Antoinette's estate they were largely empty of the crowds in the Palace. Ironically that was exactly why they were built sort of a retreat from the main court and all the intrigue around the Royals.

If you go heed the advice go on less busy days and get there early. Take the metro.

Doubt

2010-03-24T14:49:00.000-07:00

Playing in tide races requires a level of skill and commitment. It also requires a level of fitness.

Unfortunately for me I've let my fitness level slip to the point that when I recently went out to practice in a one to two meter tide race I found myself doubting my sanity.

I had three objects in mind: do a little surfing, practice a few circles in the race then link two circles into a figure eight.

The surfing started out fine. I launched from Smugglers Cove or Maynard Bay and paddled up above the actual tide race in Baynes Channel. I let the kayak drift down backward onto the leading standing wave and easily caught a ride. I repeated the exercise for about twenty minutes then swung about to head directly into the heart of the race.

When I was well into the chaos of waves I started my turn. Unthinkingly I turned away from the nearest shore and toward the centre of the channel. This meant I had to fight counter clockwise through my planned circle and through the full measure of the current. If I'd turned the other way, toward the nearby shore, perhaps as much of half of the circle would have been assisted by the inshore counter eddy.

The consequence of my mistake was to be knocked about for a good ten minutes while I attempted to complete my circle. For a few moments I began to wonder about the out come. Would I be able to complete the circle? Should I abandon the circle and simply let the race carry me out through the bottom end? Should I start working out?
Was I managing the risk or was the tide race playing with me? Should I have kept that blond's phone number? Clearly I was in a confused state of mind.

Eventually I clawed my way out of the top of the race and slipped into calmer waters completely knackered. I'd had enough for one day.

Two days later I returned to the same scene but with small one to two meter waves. Surfed like a mad man, did two or three circle turns, a figure eight turn, then slid over to practice some break outs and break ins through a strong eddy line.

I've promised to get back into better shape, but have yet to start.

Birthright - Watch this Video

2010-02-26T15:57:00.000-08:00

Nothing more needs to be added.

BIRTHRIGHT from Sean Mullens on Vimeo.

A huge thank you to Sean Mullen and Michael.

Rolling Practice Smugglers Cove

2010-02-25T10:05:00.000-08:00

Wednesday turned out to be a beautiful day on the water. A perfect day to test out the new FLIP HD camera. After six weeks waiting for a water proof case one was finally delivered through the mail slot. Alas it did not come with an external tripod mount.

The threads for the tripod are safely tucked away on the camera inside the external water proof case. So it was down to the work shop to build a Frankenstein monster device to connect the camera and the water proof case to my suction cup deck mount.

A little wood, some close cell foam, nuts, threaded rod, and a hour of puttering around and I had something workable. It ain't pretty but it worked. Dan G. calmly stood by whilst (that's for any UK readers) I set up the monster. I then shot a 50 minute clip of mostly flat water took the camera off the deck and stored it away.

We then rounded the south-east corner of Discovery Island into some really fun surge waves completely missing the opportunity to test the rig in rough water.

It got worse, as we returned to the Baynes Channel crossing the SE wind was pushing up the ebb waves into hay stacks and surf-able waves. Lots of fun was had in playing in the waves unfortunately the camera rig was still down in the hatch.

Safely back in Smugglers, or more correctly Maynard Cove, I pulled the camera out and waded out chest deep to shoot some footage of Dan rolling only to discover I have a pin hole leak in my dry suit somewhere very near the family generator equipment. In the interest of great cinematography I sacrificed a few future generations and caught the following. My apologies for the cheesy music but I could not resist.

I finished the day with my first February rolls and we retired to Starbucks for coffees, then home for a hot shower. Hours later the numbness down below was perfectly mirrored by the freezing stare from my spouse. The woman simply has no compassion.

Baynes Channel on a Winters Day

2010-02-22T16:48:00.001-08:00

Shephard back on course to South Georgia

2010-02-19T16:21:00.000-08:00

Haley Shephard has resumed her attempt to circumnavigate South Georgia after a replacement crew member for the rescue boat was located in Stanley on the Falklands Islands.

Shephards attempt nearly came to an end when the skipper of the Northanger lost part of a finger in an accident on-board. Shephard hopes to start paddling soon after the 21st. To learn more follow the links.

hayleyshephard.blogspot.com/

betsyguide.blogspot.com/

Pocession Point on Juan de Fuca Strait

2010-02-19T15:30:00.000-08:00

Freya Hoffmeister makes Landfall in Victoria BC

2010-02-18T01:02:00.000-08:00

On a damp Friday evening when the whole of Canada was tuned into the Olympic Winter Games opening in Vancouver, a group of kayaking die-hard's gathered in Victoria to greet and listen to Freya Hoffmeister recount her epic journey around Australia.

Well excuse me for not jumping on the kayak band wagon, but I cannot help but think that Freya's presentation in Victoria was kind of well flat.

Granted I was at the back, where the sound was not that great, but I earnestly strained to hear something that would convey the excitement and epic nature of her trip around Oz. I think her cold or sore voice may have gotten the better of her - she seemed tired.

Sure there were moments in her presentation, but not nearly enough of them. The south coast of Australia, shark nudges to name a few. But mostly it seemed to be one day of drudgery after another. Certainly there was not enough offered up to help a person plumb the depths of one of kayaking's most remarkable characters. I came away knowing little more about Freya then was shared in her blog. Maybe that's a down side to blogging. Could blogs reveal to much or maybe they indulge us to much?

During my checkered kayaking career I've had the opportunity to paddle and share a drink with two of the most prominent women in the sport Shawna Franklin and Justin Curgenven, and now Freya. I'll take Shawna and Justin any day. Maybe it's the way they laugh and smile or see a world of colours and not just black. Perhaps they lack an obsessively driven nature or what might be a smouldering intensity of Freya.

Or maybe it's just me. I'm a parent and the most important thing in my life is my son and family. Since Freya's trip began I've been trying to understand how a parent can essentially put kayaking ahead of one's family. Freya's son is 14 years old and for half of his life she has accomplished some of the most spectacular solo trips in the world - Iceland, New Zealand and now Oz to name but a few.

Though out my son's formative years I was privilege to be a stay at home parent. During that time we shared a journey of discovery that I would not trade for all the islands and all the oceans in the world. I cannot help but think that in 30 years the colour will have faded on Freya's photos and there will little left but dusty memories. Whereas, I'll have the a living bond, love and strength of a remarkable person.

I know nothing of her family circumstances but I fear that she's missed out on lifes greatest journey. Perhaps I'm wrong, there is after all no one right way to raise a family, maybe the course she's steered will have been the right one. One thing is certain I knew little more about Freya upon leaving then I did before arriving.

Perhaps her story is like Homer's Ulysses, just too big for one sitting or one quick power point show. Maybe the book will be the ticket.

South Georgia Adventure in Jeoprady

2010-02-11T19:55:00.000-08:00

Late last week an accident on the support vessel Northanger has put Hayley Shephards attempt to become the first to solo kayak around South Georgia in jeopardy.

The co owner and skipper of the Northanger severed part of his right index finger while underway in Drake Passage.

After being hove to, due to the storm, for three days the vessel diverted to Port Stanley on the Falkland Islands. Short an able bodied sailor the support vessel may not be able to sail to South Georgia. Without the support vessel Hayley's circumnavigation is in serious trouble.

Saturday will be the critical day, if a replacement sailor cannot be found by then the trip will likely be canceled. Waiting longer stretches the favourable weather window just too far.

As an alternative Hayley is considering the possibility of an attempt to circumnavigate the Falkland Islands. She'd be the first female to undertake the endeavour.

To read more follow these links.

http://hayleyshephard.blogspot.com/

betsyguide.blogspot.com/

Hayley Shephard off to South Georgia

2010-01-26T15:41:00.001-08:00

I said a difficult farewell to Hayley Shephard and Beth-Anne Masselink at Victoria International last Friday. Hayley is off to attempt a solo circumnavigation of South Georgia Island. Beth-Anne is her backup rescue kayaker who will launch from the support vessel and come to Hayley's aid should it be needed.

The circumnavigation of South Georgia is perhaps the most difficult paddle in the world. Although it's not long by many expedition standards there are no days when you are not at extreme risk. It's 400 miles of deadly risk.

Saying good bye to someone who you may never see again is troubling. All sorts of conflicting thoughts run through your head. I took some comfort in knowing that well known and trusted west coast quide Beth-Anne Masselink would at least be near by.

The island lies at 54 15 S and 36 45 W. Look it up on a globe and you'll see how one could strike out sailing east from South Georgia and your first land fall would be the west shore of the island you left from. There would be nothing but wind waves and the odd iceberg on your journey. There is an old mariners saying "in the forties there is no law - in the fifties there is no god"

The follow link takes you to a 2009 Christmas Day photo of a sheltered port on the east shore. Nothing landed on Christmas Day.

http://www.sgisland.gs/index.php/Image:13dec09.jpg

The island has twice been circumnavigated by kayakers. Once by British paddlers Nigel Denis, Jeff Allen, Peter Bray and Israeli Hadas Feldman. Just prior to their trip the circumnavigation was completed by Kiwi's Graham Charles, Marcus Waters and Mark Jones.

Jeff Allen wrote: "Fur seals are very aggressive, as is the weather, very unpredictable, went from a force 4 to a force 8 in seconds today, took Pete by surprise and capsized him, water is freezing, after ten minutes hands and feet are freezing. Feet especially lost all feeling, my cockpit leaks and I am sat in 2" of freezing water most of the time.

He concluded that blog entry with a clear sign that he was becoming delusional. "All is well, spirits high, best wishes to everyone following the team."

Nigel Dennis speaking about the trip said, two would beat back the Fur Seals and Sea Lions with paddles while the others pitched tents or ate.

You can follow Hayley's trip at

http://hayleyshephard.blogspot.com/

Dennis, Allen and Bray are giants in the kayaking community. I know little about the Kiwi's. Hayley Shephard is a diminutive Kiwi ex pat living in Alert Bay BC who guides in Churchil Bay in the summer and sometimes works as a school teacher. Oh, and she's one very brave woman.

Force 10 from Victoria?

2009-11-18T18:31:00.000-08:00

Click on the headline for a view of Haro Strait during the calm before the storm.

After a weak of laying about dealing with pig flue I had to get out. So I grabbed my binoculars and camera and headed out to do a little storm watching. Locked inside my car who could I inflict with H1N1 except the occasional car jacker.

Down along the shore front I found a Gale blowing. With nothing else to do I followed the shore up past Willows Beach, around to Cattle Point with a quick stop at Cadboro Bay.

My real destination was 10 Mile Point, Cadboro Point and of course Baynes Channel. Along the short drive I worked up mind exercises figuring out how and where to launch, what heading to paddle, how the southeaster would surf the boat and where to pull out.

I have a close friend who once while standing on a beach looking out at a much smaller sea turned to me and said, "I have to get out and practice in that stuff more." I replied. You don't have to get out and do anything. If you were standing here alone would you launch? "No, I wouldn't," he replied. Well if I came along and asked you to launch would you? "No properly not."

There, you see that's good judgement and that's all you ever need to practice. Lets go for coffee.

Alas I was too afraid to walk into a coffee house coughing and sneezing pig virus so instead I slipped into Cadboro Bay and jogged over to see if any yachts had slipped there anchors and blown ashore. One came ashore last week and the thieving wreckers had pulled all the electronics out of it before the owner could secure it.

Sadly there is an small ugly undercurrent to gentile Victoria, composed of people with no morals and clearly no respect for the law. Luckily, at least when I stopped by no boats where on the beach.

Back in the car I made a quick trip to the view point on Prevost Hill and snapped a quick shot of 10 Mile Point 200 metres below.
I was estimating the wind was blowing a steady 40 knots and the sea on the Beaufort scale to be Force 7. But it's hard to estimate such things from the pan of a kayak let alone the seat of a car.

After a brief stop at Cadboro Point and 10 Mile Point headland where I shot the video I headed home. I put some soup on and as I was uploading the photos I noticed the trees were really whipping around. the wind was picking up At 7:30 PM I checked the ocean buoy reports: Kelp Reef in Haro Strait SSE 48-63 knots, Discovery Island SSE 45 gusts 56 Weather forecast Storm Warning Winds SE 48-63. That's Force 10. I made coffee.

BUSTED!

2009-11-17T12:40:00.000-08:00

It has been fine fall kayaking here in the Victoria area. Last Wednesday we managed to find standing waves in Baynes Channel right off the reef at the end of 10 Mile Point.

With a fast ebb coming around the head land slamming into a steady 10 knot wind the waves were stacking up into three footers. As usual most of the waves failed to line out which made surfing difficult. Nevertheless Denis, Mike and I managed to get in some good rides.

My advice to anyone entering this tidal race is to do so from the top of the race and slide into the leading wave backward. On this day we slipped by the reef buoy and attempted to enter from the bottom side.

We'd paddled out from Cadboro Bay and as we approached I stopped to switch my ball cap for a neoprene cap. You know the type that holds the cold water close to your head ensuring the freezing water gets deep into your ear canals. Who thinks these things up?

As we approached I thought to call out to my companions to slip through the inshore channel in front of the Williams/Green's house (it's made of glass and brass). Once through the channel we could stay inshore then swing out to drop into the race. For some odd reason I didn't, I guess I secretly wanted to see what would happen.

I was first to enter and the fast ebb quickly sent me too low and past the first wave line. I was in the chaos where surfing becomes secondary to just staying up right. I fought my way out with a major forward stroke effort that foreshadowed the next 20 minutes.

Crawling ever so slowly out against the ebb we finally reached the point were we could surf. Unfortunately I found us a little to close together for comfort and let some good waves go by to avoid potentially coming together. But everyone got in some great rides. I had my bow toggle drumming a tattoo, while Mike and Denis both buried their foredecks.

Eventually we agreed to paddle straight though the race to come out the other side. I took off for one more surf ride with the intent of paddling up above the race to get the maximum ride. This proved impossible as I couldn't make any headway. In fact all I was doing was maintaining position.

When ever I stopped paddling to look around for my companions I would lose any forward headway I had managed to eke out.

The last look about turned up one paddler short. Quickly I scanned 360 but could still see only one other kayaker. I called out where's Mike and set up a ferry glide angle to take me over to the reef to calm waters to have a better look. denis joined me and we soon spotted Mike flying through the race. For moments three quarters of his boat would be out of the water as he exploded through a stack. The black Tahe Greenlander looked beautiful in full flight.

From south of the race we set up a ferry glide over to Strong Tide Islet then clawed our way through the north cut into the lagoon and slipped down to the sluice were we played breaking in and out of the current rip.

At days end I did a quick roll, dragged the boat up reloaded my kit and came home to begin a week long battle against what appears to be the N1H1 virus. So much fun followed by so much misery. The photo is a snap of Hans Heupink's Anas Acuta after a hard surfing day in Holland.

Shephard and the Albatross

2009-10-15T06:40:00.000-07:00

The following was written back in July. I've been reluctant to publish it because I consider the trip that is being planned to be extremely dangerous. Is it wise? I do not know, but it'll take guts, knowledge and perhaps good fortune to complete. It scares me just thinking about it.

Hayley Shephard is trying to raise awareness of the plight of the Albatross by solo paddling around South Georgia this coming February. She's an experienced kayak guide who works in the Arctic and on South Georgia Island.

This has never been done before indeed the island has been circumnavigated by kayaks only twice; both of those expeditions consisted of three kayakers. To date Hayley has lined up a publisher for a book, a film editor for a documentary and three magazines to publish accounts her her efforts.

Hayley is raising funds that will go to the Save the Albatross Campaign. "www.savethealbatross.net"

However Hayley is in desperate need of sponsorship funds. The British Government which governs South Georgia has very strict regulations regarding access to the area. Hayley has been in contact with the Royal Geographic Society and has made an application for support.

If you want to help here's the link to her project site. "www.kayakingtosavealbatross.com"

In this day an age many strike out on adventures, that seem only to full fill the persons need for self aggrandizement, it is especially gratifying to see that there are those who will undertake such adventures not solely for there own self fulfillment but for the advancement of important causes.

Nigel Denis is one of three British paddlers to circumnavigate South Georgia. Recently I asked him what's the most critical aspects of a solo paddle around the island.

His response, "develop lots of strength," surprised me but when he explained I understood. He said strength is needed to cope with the high winds. Nigel estimated they paddled in winds between 25 and 45 knots 40% of the time.

Technical skills are secondary to brute strength. I was somewhat surprised to hear that. Nigel also warned about fur seals which like to attack kayaks. When Nigel's team landed they used their paddles to fend off the seals. Do not confuse fur seals with the relatively harmless harbour seal. Fur seals are aggressive.

But most importantly he says taking the time to wait out the weather is key. Freezing cold, high winds, no reasonable back up. Hayley's support vessel well seldom be close enough to provide emergency support.

The following is a quote from Jeff Allen's blog account of the 2005 trip around.

“Fur seals are very aggressive, as is the weather, very unpredictable, went from a force 4 to a force 8 in seconds today, took Pete by surprise and capsized him, water is freezing, after ten minutes hands and feet are freezing.

“The challenge to paddle around South Georgia has been considered by many to be the ultimate challenge to any sea kayaker, comparisons between it and K2 to the climbing world have been bandied about, but South Georgia is truly unique and stands alone in the challenges that it does present, it certainly didn’t disappoint us.

We had the best and the worst that mother nature had to offer, when the going was good we made as much progress as we could, forcing ourselves to extend the limits at times to which you would not normally consider reasonable, over and above the norm.

When the weather was really bad we had no option, paddling wasn’t possible. The hardest thing to judge were those gaps in-between, seeing a weather system form overhead and wind increase from a force 2/3 to a full force 9 in the space of minutes was at times very frightening, especially when you were half way across a five mile open crossing.

All of the usual safety nets kayakers back home take for granted, VHF, Coastguard, RNLI even mobile phones were none existent and we knew that down here we were on our own, a self contained unit having to work as a team and being able to trust collectively in the decision making process meant so much more when making daily goals.

Although we had to have a support vessel to satisfy the license, the only time we saw it was when the weather was sound, if things turned foul they needed to head for cover as much as we did, what a seventy foot yacht considers appropriate shelter is well removed from what a kayaker would consider to be appropriate.”

A yacht such as Pelagic Australis can always head for open water, for us we had to take exceptional care when undertaking crossings, always looking for changes in the clouds, looking at the surface of the sea and reading the flow of water becomes second nature, if it hadn’t we may well have suffered for the mistake and this could have been a different update today.”

Prior to speaking with Nigel I talked with Dr. Fred Roots, a Royal Geographic Society member and gold medalist and an a renowned Antarctic and Arctic Scientist.

He was very cautious which is not surprising. One does not get to be an old Antarctic hand without paying close attention to due diligence. His first concern was with rescue.

In the past when Antarctic adventurers have messed up or been overwhelmed by the environment the only possible response to the Mayday would come from a scientific research project that might have taken years to put together. With limited resources the scientist would be expected to respond. This could mean the end of the research project. Years of work ruined by some adventurer.

Bitterness or resentment in the scientific community is understandable. By and large these pioneering scientist are hard men and women. Their projects in the 1950's and 60's where entirely self reliant. There was no safety net. When Dr. Roots geological partner had to have an eye removed after a shard of rock pieced it, the surgical tools where fashioned from a dinner knife and fork. The operation was done without either a loco or general antithesis.

The instruction were provided via Morse code from a surgeon in London. Think about it. Instructions for eye surgery locked in a series of dots and dashes.

While doing his geological survey Dr. Roots traveled solo via dog sled across the frozen ice , going unsupported from food cache to food cache for over 200 days. He had a compass.

Today The Royal Geographical Society will not allow people to undertake such adventures without means of rescue. She's had to charter a boat. But even that may not be sufficient.

There will be places on the west coast where the boat will not be any closer then three days travel. If disaster befalls her the reality is the rescue may in fact be a recovery.

Regarding the plight of the Albatross Dr. Roots pointed out that while it's an honorable endeavour that Hayley is undertaking. It may be fruitless. He explained that long line fishing practices around South Georgia have already been modified in attempts to ensure Albatrosses are not caught.

Long line fishermen, around South Georgia, to avoid catching these magnificent birds are now setting their lines at night or inboard so that the bait sinks before the Albatross can drop down and take the baited hooks. The save the Albatross project is trying to get all the worlds long line fishermen to do the same.

How easy is it going to be to get a long line fisherman from Port Hardy to voluntarily change the way they fish? Fishermen cannot even agree on a plan to save the salmon fishery.

But as Dr. Roots explains even if the entire world's long line fishing industry adopts these practices the Albatross will likely disappear. Victimized by humans rapacious harvesting of the sea. They'll starve to death. The future seems bleak for the Albatross.

All these factors add up to perhaps one of the most dangerous expeditions to date. Anyway you look at this it cannot be sugar coated. The endeavour is frightening and the goal maybe fruitless, but I hope she's successful.

Lighthouse escape the Bean Counters - For Now

2009-09-15T10:38:00.000-07:00

This was a truly stupid move. The amount of money that would be saved by shutting down the manned lighthouses on the west coast did not amount to a hill of beans when compared to the one life that may be saved by anyone of these lighthouse keepers. Yes that's one life because that one life might be your son or daughters.

Would any of us cancel the insurance on our cars to save money. Of course not. The Feds could raise taxes to pay for essential services except that's not what our government does. They take services away to make small minded people happy.

Decisions like this are driven by narrow minded individuals who only want to pay for the services they think they use. You know the type, "I don't have kids in school, so why should I pay school board taxes." Because Canada will become a nation of hamburger flippers if we don't educate the next generation. Hamburger flippers make $12 per year, we'd need 200 zillion of them to match current federal and provincial government revenues. You do the math. On the other hand CEO's apparently make a zillion a year each and are the product of good education systems add a large dollop of greed and you only need three to match government incomes.

I know, "lets cut taxes to the point where we pay nothing for nothing. All my money will be mine, mine mine. I won't have to share it out for dumb things like paved roads, utilities, health care or parks or any other nutty thing that makes a group of people a community, a village, a city, a province or even in this case Canada.

Norway or Denmark, one of those Scandahovian, countries has the highest taxes in the world. What a bunch of saps. So what if they have the highest standard of living in the world. I bet they'd all like to move here where they could get nothing for nothing from the government while all the time working in Norwegian fish farms on our the west coast at $10 per hour. Did I mention those Norwegian corporations cannot operate fish farms in Norway. Apparently it's not good for the Norwegian environment.

Tomorrows garbage day. Ideas like shutting down manned lighthouse should be thrown out with the trash. My garbage is picked up by municipal workers and for my money it's a great service that's paid for out of my municipal taxes. Keep manned light house keepers. If you have to cut back fire MP Gary Lunn. It'd be a sacrifice. I mean anyone could have dropped the isotope ball in Chalk River. Nuclear plants, neutrons, isotopes it's all rocket science to a real estate lawyer.

But, take away Gary and a couple of invisible back bencher's and suddenly there's enough money to pay for manned lighthouses.

Just wait. This stupid plan will come back.

House Sitting

2009-07-27T12:51:00.000-07:00

Last week found me house sitting in North Saanich - only five minutes from work. I was able to bike into work in under 15 minutes. (Just try making a five minute ride in the dark)

I'd put the cat out and strike off just before the sun came up. By 12:45 pm was back to water and feed the cat. Next came a nice layback in the hammock under the shade trees with a bucket of cool ones and some reading to finish off the hottest part of the day.

Then a short paddle on Sannich Inlet and back for an early evening super followed by just laying back to watch the sun set over the inlet. What a great location.

It was so restful I found lots of time to compose my departing note to the home owners. The text follows.

I fixed the water heater. Some Tom came by and I'd like one of the kittens. I changed the language preference on your computer to Dutch and bookmarked lots of interesting adult sites.

Drank all your beer but could not find the broom. I wanted to use it to get the ladies thong off the ceiling fan. No matter how fast I ran the fan it just would not come down. Very odd.

I took your new Explorer out for a paddle. I'm not sure if gel coat will fix the hole. Thanks for letting me read the Ocean Paddler Magazines. I cut a few articles out to share with my SISKA friends. What's wrong with your oven?

I answered the phone Wednesday night and you've won the Nigerian lottery. It took a while for me to find your bank account info, but the guy on the line was real patient, especially when I fibbed and told him I was a senior. That gets sympathy every time. The money will be in your account on Monday - it's $4.2 million. Man are you one lucky guy. Would you consider a small gratuity. One percent would be sweet.

Victoria Kayaker

PS. I couldn't remember if you said I could smoke in the house or not. So I kept it down to just a couple of cigars in the evening. Oh yea, you can hardly see the beer stain or cigar burn on the carpet. I'm sure if you don't point them out no one will never know.

Tahe Marine Update

2009-07-12T13:24:00.000-07:00

Ocean River Sports had two Marine kayaks on hand at the MEC Paddlefest at Gyro Beach in Victoria. The Tahe Marine was purchased by Mike Jackson. I got to paddle the boat first at the MEC show then again after Mike had bought it. Click on the title to link to ORS.

There was a second slightly different version the Tahe at the MEC show, but I know nothing about it. The good news is the dealer for western Canada and the USA lives right here in Victoria. He's a semi retired gentleman from Oak Bay.

The other bit of good news is that a slightly larger version of the Tahe Marine is being designed and should be available in the fall. I believe it'll have the same hull but an enlarged deck to accommodate the longer legs and bigger feet of larger paddlers.

Check with Brian Henry about what kayaks he has in stock. As this is such a specialty boat I cannot see him or any retailer bringing in a large number of them.

Victoria Kayaker

Dry Hatch and the Black Beauty

2009-06-30T17:06:00.000-07:00

Sea trials are complete and the Romany S forward hatch is bone dry after multiple rolls, braces etc.

Also had some time in the Tahe Marine. Amazing rolling machine, but very small cockpit, small enough to hurt. This would be a fine day paddler for anyone small enough to fit.

Turns well, rolls like a thought, static braces are easy, accelerates quickly and I believe would sustain a four knot speed with ease. I'd really like to see it in rough water.

Not sure if I want to be in the cock pit in rough conditions as it's such a tight squeeze I had serious misgivings of being able to get out should the worst happen. Mike Jackson is sold and I can't fault him for falling in love - fickle man that he is!!!

Mike looks on as Pete M. slides in for a test. For my test we had to call upon our companion with the longest arms to adjust the foot pegs. I could just reach the pegs with my finger tips but could not slide them further into the cockpit to accommodate my legs. If you're long legged, set them up, then don't move them unless you're a real knuckle dragger. Sorry Dan!!!

To do a static brace, which I have always struggled with, Dan and Mike simply leaned back onto the very low back deck then while twisting the torso, so the back will lay flat on the water, let the boat slip out from under them and they were doing a static brace. I'm inspired to try this in the Romany S.

Test and trials where conducted on a great day trip from Oak Bay Marine out around Discovery Island and along the shore of Chatham. I swapped my Romany S for Dan's Gulfstream for the return trip. The trip back reinforced my impression that the Gulfstream is the best kayak built by Current Design. Now if this earlier model only had a lower rear deck.

Here's a link to more photos Tahe

A Moment in the Valley by Doug Lloyd

2009-06-29T16:44:00.000-07:00

For a free urban celebration of canoeing and kayaking with a token registration fee for on-water courses, demonstrations - and back at the beach seminars, the third annual Victoria Paddlefest hosted by MEC looked to be another success.

Being a three-decade Valley Canoe Products paddler myself I was pleasantly surprised to see the newer named, Valley Sea Kayaks well represented at Gyro Park now that Ocean River Sports in Victoria carries the Valley brand. Furthermore, Rob Avery was present with some extra Valley kayaks, including Sean Morely’s Nordkapp he’d used for the Vancouver Island Circumnavigation, as well as the nicely updated Valley Anas Acuta that all testers agreed was the most fun kayak of the bunch. It would have been nice if there was the 18’ Valley Q-boat there too.

I was able to test paddle the Nordkapp LV at my new weight of 215 pounds. I’d tried it previously at 170 pounds when the Tidrace kayaks were given a spin out at Trial Island. Both Gordin and I had agreed it was a fine sea kayak though it retained that classic Nordkapp tenderness you either love or hate. I was just able to squeeze into the cockpit and put it through a few manoeuvres. There was a bit of wind and the LV weather cocked far less than the classic Nordy, but it benefited by use of the skeg early. Other kayaks I know take longer before the benefit is essential.

What I did find invaluable this year was the opportunity to discuss kayaks with the very knowledgeable Rob Avery, who is the new Valley sales rep for the west coast region. Sean Morely has moved on to represent P&H and Pyranna kayaks. Rob, based out of Bainbridge, Washington kayakcraft is a BCU Level 3 Sea Kayak Coach and ACA Open Water Instructor. He’s an unassuming fellow, all around grand chap, and now deep in the Valley.

With the Nordkapp LV on my short list, there were some questions I was seeking answers to. There has been a fair bit of feedback from paddlers all over that the new LV unfortunately retained the high back deck. The answer I was given? Lay back rolls are dangerous you know. The kayak was designed as an easier to control unladen version of its bigger brother, the full sized Nordkapp, for smaller paddlers or paddlers looking for performance without the payload. There are no plans to address this rear cockpit height issue as far as Rob knew.

Second point: is there any discussion at Valley regarding front day lockers, such as found on the Rockpools and the new P&H Cetus? No. Is there a possibility to custom order an LV cut down (the seam line is lowered before joining the hull to deck yielding an even lower volume kayak). Given the curves near the seam line it would be highly unlikely.

I asked Rob about some of the rumours about quality control issues at Valley again. He wasn’t aware of any but did admit one boat shop on mainland BC had an out-of-proportion number of skeg issues than anywhere else, which seemed an odd anomaly to him.

Rob did agree that the choice to go with a round bilge hull with its responsiveness to hip movement versus a soft chine hull with better feedback for carving was an intensely personal preference. Furthermore, the Nordkapp series are kayaks you grow with for many years but are kayaks that have years of rewarding performance. Certainly the Nordkapp LV does provide good manoeuvrability though its static stability at rest remains low.

There was a paddler present with his Tiderace Xcite. Like the SKUK kayaks, it was heavy and well built – really stiff, strong, and durable. The owner loved the cockpit ergonomics, seat, knee position and height/angle of the front cockpit. He said if he could get his Nordkapp LV with the same deck, cockpit and seat as his Tidrace, he’d be in the Valley way more.

Victoria Kayak thanks Doug Lloyd for his insights and welcomes accounts from other readers. If you want to share your thoughts click on the comment button at the end of any story. Thanks

Aaaarrrrrgh!!!

2009-06-28T22:16:00.000-07:00

Why do we tempt the gods. A short while ago I published a piece about quality control in the kayak industry. Not long after I took possession of the Romany S that I paddled around the Isle of Man last year. When it arrived the hatches were missing. I borrowed hatches and discovered the front hatch had a leak.

Odd as the front hatch was bone dry through some tumultuous waters in the Irish Sea.

After some good advice from Doug Lloyd I built a pressure hatch by drilling one of the spare hatch covers I now have. I cut a valve out of an old bike tube and squeezed it through the undersized hole. I added lots of Sikaflex around the valve stem.

Next I attached my bicycle foot pump and pumped it up to about 3 BARS. Then I applied soapy water to all the obvious places and low and behold there are bubbles burbling up from one of the deck fittings.

I removed the hatch and stuck my head in and what should I find but a inch and a half seam where the epoxy had flaked off along the edge of the fibreglass tape that holds the fitting in place. This allowed water to seep in around the fitting and then out under the tape and into the hull.

I went back to the tube of Sikaflex and applied it to the outside deck fitting and I am about to apply some wetted glass to the inside seam.

I suspect the epoxy chipped off when the fully loaded boat was dropped onto the cement parking lot at the end of my trip around the Isle of Man. It's not surprising that something like this could have happened. The drop was high enough that the hull was cracked through to the glass.

I have a friend who has been critical of these round deck fittings. A hole is cut in the deck then the fitting epoxied and taped in. I have the same fitting on my Explorer and this is the first to fail. Nevertheless I believe SKUK has gone back to the old style fittings commonly found on Valley boats. They are mechanically attached in recessed moulded pockets. I have never heard of them failing. I now concede the arguement to wiser kayakers and recommend sticking to the older style of fitting.

To date I've spent about six hours hunting down this leak. Previously I applied Sikaflex to all the bulk heads fore, aft and centre, and to the outside rim of the forward hatch. Then fruitlessly filled the compartments with water in the hopes of finding a seeping leak.

I don't know if hatches are pressure tested before leaving the factory but it seems like a good idea. Water tests will follow as soon as the glass is dry.

Mountain Equipment Coop Paddlefest Sat. June 27

2009-06-28T15:33:00.000-07:00

Yesterday on Cadboro Bay in sunny but windy Victoria Mountain Equipment Coop (MEC) hosted another successful Paddlefest.

As I'd just returned from a torturous week of job training in Vancouver I was more then ready to decompress by hooking up with fellow kayakers to swap lies and fill our boots with the usual banter about hard versus soft, rudder versus skeg and so on.

I did promise myself that I would not paddle any boats. As I explained to my friends I simply cannot afford lust.

My resolve lasted about an hour before I succumbed to the call of Valley Kayaks Avocet LV. Luckily I didn't fit, so on to the Nordkapp LV model. This boat could be made to fit if I removed or reconfigured the seat.

But why bother as I found it not nearly as good as either my NDK Explorer or my Romany S. The profile of the hull of those boats suits me better then that of the Nordkapp. I'm not knocking the Nordkapp and encourage paddlers to try these boats. In fact I suspect the Nordkapp may make you a better paddler over the long term. It simply demands more from the paddler.

I also found water in the day hatch of one of the models. It could have come from a poorly snapped down hatch but always check these out.

Eventually I found myself in the standard Nordkapp which even in the light winds (10 knots) really wanted to weather cock; likely due to the higher fore deck.

The kayak that most impressed me however was the venerable old Anas Acuta. Dating from the 1960's this is the grandfather of all English fibreglass Greenland style boats. After a short paddle I easily understood why this boat has remained so popular.

Ironically it was the boat that most mirrored the handling characteristics of the NDK now Sea Kayak UK or SKUK line. The Annus Acuta's hard chines are clearly the forerunner of the softer chines of the Romany and then the later Explorer. I suppose that should not be so surprising after all Frank Goodman, Nigel Denis et all go back along ways. What's odd is that the link between the Annus Cuta and the NDK or SKUK line seems stronger then that between the Annas Acuta and the Nordkapp. Interesting.

But the boat that stole the show was the Tahe Marine Greenland. Wow! Done up all in black this Estonian wonder woman is the ultimate fibreglass Greenland rolling machine. I witnessed money leaking out of Mike Jacksons pocket. First a couple of standard rolls (there goes a down payment) followed by some more complicated rolls and another payment until finally he'd bought and sold himself on yet another addition to the fleet.

I'm betting there will be a black beauty in the Jackson coral in short order. As for me I stay well clear of fast sleek women wearing black.

Links to Valley and Tahe Marine follow;

Valley

Tahe Marine

Op Ed policy

2009-06-28T15:01:00.000-07:00

Victoria Kayaker welcomes comments, letters or more specifically to todays world - emails. Whether the comments are favorable or not they will be published. If you have given me your time to read this blog and taken up more of your time writing a reply to something you have read, then Victoria Kayaker owes you the courtesy of publishing your effort.

Liable and slander are of course off the tabble. In addition Victoria Kayaker will not engage in any on going flaming exercise as are common on some west coast kayaking chat lines. Those endeavors are unfair as the publisher, blog owner or moderator, always gets the last word.

Comments will of course appear at he end of each story. To post simply click on the comment button at the bottom and start typing. Sometimes it's best to type your comments and then wait a few hours before hitting send. This gives you time to reflect and maybe even polish ur proze! Rats!!

To those people who read this blog on a regular or irregular basis, thanks for your time.

VK

High Winds in Juan de Fuca Strait

2009-06-15T19:55:00.000-07:00

June 13th East Sooke Entrance

It was late in the afternoon by the time I reached the launch site at my in laws. Coming down the long drive way I could clearly see the far western reaches of Juan de Fuca where covered in white horses or white caps if you prefer.

I rushed through unloading the kayak and kit and dashed inside to check my father in laws weather station, winds were WNW at 20 knots at the house. On the computer Environment Canada weather stations at Race Rocks and Sherringham Point where reporting 30 plus knots and a Gale Warning had been issued for the Strait.

Finally I had a good day for paddling. This would be a nice test for the Romany S, the first real day of weather since the kayak came home over a month ago.

I headed almost due west out towards Simpson Point into a strong 4 knot flood and stiff winds that were taking the tops off of the waves. At Grant Rocks, the narrowest part of the Sooke Inlet the winds where being funnelled by the high lands to the east and Whiffin Spit to the west resulting in waves about three feet high. If the wind had of been out of the north-east there would have been a great standing wave at the rocks. But today the it was the wind that provided the challenge.

Each stroke of the paddle had to be pushed forward to make the plant, clearly the wind wanted to play with the paddle. I snuggled up the paddle leash as a precaution.

It was slow going, taking almost 45 minutes to cover 1.5 nautical miles to Simpson Point. Once past the point and out into the open waters of the Strait the wind waves and swell steeped up to maybe one and a half meters or about 5 maybe six feet. Steep enough that the Romany's bow would explode over the top of the waves and be exposed back to the coaming before slamming back into the next trough.

Bamm! Bamm! the hull would slam down, the spray would explode up and be whipped roaring back across my face. Off the top of one roller I swung the bow south to head toward Company Point and the rock gardens just short of the point. The swell was now firmly on my starboard beam not quite strong enough to threaten the use of some timely low or high braces, but close.

I had it in the back of my mind to ride the surf into one of the pocket beaches between Simpson and Company Point but a quick survey dissuaded me. The rocks that guard the small beaches where throwing up huge boomer's and the rock gardens where a zone of white water madness. Alone it didn't seem like such a good idea to go play in there, especially as I was only wearing my light summer kit. (Short sleeve paddling jacket and shorty wet suit.

I spun the Romany about and with the swell and waves now on the port beam headed back the way I'd come. Back at Simpson Point I set up for a fast surf ride back into Sooke Inlet. Did I say fast. What took 45 minutes to crawl into flashed by.

With a few stern rudders it was easy to steer the Romany, it surfs like a board. At the end of Whiffin Spit I raised both paddle blades above my head and let the wind drive me forward.

Back in the bay in front of the launch site I surfed in and worked on steering the boat around the crab pot buoys and kelp fronds. Back and forth until I tired of the game. Then I swung over to work the kayak through the support post on the long pier that juts out into the bay. I use the pier to practice my steering strokes. With the wind and waves it turned into an advance class. More then once I thought the barnacles might take a bite but good fortune and timely paddle strokes saved the gelcoat.

Finally I finished with some rough water rolls and some sculling.

On a day when the water was absolutely flat east of Victoria and the wind was only a whisper in town I'd found near perfect conditions. At times it was just like the Irish Sea, strong winds, high seas, blue skies - just me and the Romany. Perfect!

Quality Control in the Kayak Industry

2009-06-01T18:44:00.000-07:00

This high pressure zone over Victoria has absolutely flattened out the ocean. Little wind means few standing waves, and generally flat water. With nothing to surf and little current action I've been riding the web and came across this.

"Generally, Valley kayaks are better made now than in past years. The same can't be said of the NDK made kayaks."

If the guy who wrote that statement (he's a friend of mine) had of done some home work he'd know better. Since NDK's re emergence as Sea Kayak United Kingdom (SKUK)- you've got to love the British sense of humour; quality control has been on the up swing. Check with Leon Somme of Body Boat Blade if you don't believe me.

Yes I have two Nigel Denis kayaks, an Explorer bought used out of Homer Alaska and a Romany S which I purchased last August to paddle around the Isle of Man on my quest to raise funds for cancer research.

The Explorer has been beaten and bashed including being May Tagged in a bolder field while I attended to a kayaker who had just broke his leg attempting to launch into a dumping surf. In spite of the damage inflicted, cracked gel coat, the Explorer has never failed me and has brought me home every time.

I believe two things are contributing to the improved quality of SKUK boats, better quality coming out of the factory and better shipping methods. Improvements in the way the kayaks are being packaged and shipped in the containers has dramatically reduced shipping damages. I've seen this first hand.

When I was in the factory in Holyhead last year the boats ready for shipment where of a very high quality. I had a choice between an Explorer and a Romany S both of which where well built. I could see improvements in build quality over my previous visit to the plant in 2007.

During my circumnavigation of the Isle of Man the Romany developed one fault the skeg cable tubbing came unglued and I was not easily able to deploy the skeg. It barely mattered as the Romany handled so well I hardly needed the skeg. When I got the boat home I fixed the tube down with a piece of fiberglass.

This skeg is on a spring, when you go over a rock or land on a beach if the skeg is down it retracts, but does not kink the cable; slide off the rock and the skeg drops back down to where you had it set. Smart.

Every kayak manufacture struggles with quality issues. There's a well known west coast company that cannot master water proof hatches or bulkheads. There's a story about another that fired almost all it's manufacturing staff when they failed drug tests only to see quality control go into the can.

You can build kayaks while high on crack but it's hard to do without experience. I've heard other accounts of retailers sending entire shipments of North American boats back to the plant because of deficiencies.

Or what about the designer who built a series of hard chined kayaks but did not carry the chine all the way forward to the bow resulting in a weak and flexible bow. After consumers had bought countless kayaks the plug was dropped and a new one built to address the weak bow. Nice of the kayak public to do th R&D for the designer.

I wonder how those owners feel about having boats that didn't quite measure up. Yet these well known manufactures escape the poor quality control tag. Is there a double standard at work?

It could be that the persistent poor quality control tag hung on British boats is due to their market penetration into North America. SKUK or NDK, Valley, and P&H kayaks are easy to spot in North America. I've yet to see a North American made kayak on the Irish Sea let alone for sale in England.

This is of course due to different design parameters. I contend that North American manufactures design kayaks for a large recreational market which wants light strong kayaks. British builders build for a more demanding sea condition. An Explorer is laid up by hand with lots of Gel Coat not for strength but as a sacrificial layer that will chip off when landed in anger on a rocky shore. Thus their boats are heavier. Han laid chop strand glass is use for strength and to minimize the size of cracks when the worst does happen.

Slam a kayak constructed with an H lock between the hull and the deck into a rock during a storm on the Irish Sea and you can crack the glass beneath the 2ml layer of gel coat or you run the real risk of popping the H lock or splitting the fiberglass hull. Any of which will bring your day to an end.

But don't take my word for it. Just take a look at what kayaks are used for extreme adventures - Iceland, Ireland, Great Britain, New Zealand, South Georgia - the vast majority are British built or designed.

Quality issues are normal to any industry based on low wages, rotten working conditions and dangerous chemicals. One retailer recently told me, "a lot of these long time fiberglass layup guys can really drink beer and smoke cigarettes well. Just don't asked them to do math." It comes from breathing all that styrene.

There are inherit strengths and weaknesses in all kayaks and not all kayaks are designed to do the same thing. Some are big recreational kayaks meant for weak long camping trips on benevolent seas, some are pond boats, while others are meant for hard conditions.

"While the NDK designs are amongst the best, it still comes down to the paddler and his or her skills." that's the concluding statement from my friend who I quoted at the beginning.

His statement is only partly true. If you are the skilled paddler and in a boat that runs straight like a train but does not turn, you are going to be using a lot more energy then the equally skilled guy next to you in a boat that runs both straight and can still turn.

Your kayak does not have to be the best at anything but it should be really good at everything. And that's why readers of Sea Kayaker magazine chose the Romany as the best day boat and the Explorer as the best expedition kayak.

Return of the Romany

2009-05-15T10:10:00.000-07:00

Can there be anything better then sailing into Friday Harbor on a sunny Friday morning.
We're almost home. Ten months after completing my Isle of Man circumnavigation my kayak has almost made it home.

Thanks to the graciousness of Shawna Franklin and Leon Somme' I did not have to travel down to the Seattle/Tacoma docks to retrieve the kayak. They picked her up and brought her up to Orcas Island.,

I had hoped to paddle it the 25 nautical miles from Orcas over to Victoria. But time simply didn't allow and I ended up having to drive around to collect the kayak. Which turned out to be a good thing as someone had nicked two of the hatch covers.

This is a lucky boat even when bad things happen to her she somehow manages to turn misfortune to an advantage. On that last day on the Isle of Man when the hull was accidentally cracked and the last 10 days of my adventure literally slipped through the crack; it was a turn of good fortune.

Trapped ashore for those ten days I was able to save the money budgeted to cover the expenses of what was to have been the circumnavigation of Angelsey. With the money saved I was able to buy airfare home after the air carrier Zoom went bankrupt taking my return ticket down with it.

Zoom was to have returned the kayak with me. Luckily Nigel Denis of Sea Kayaking United Kingdom stepped forward and offered to send the kayak in the next available container to Seattle.

As I write the kayak is down below on the ferry into Sidney. She's looking a little rough. Dust from ten months in the work shop obscures her bright red deck. The skeg still needs a little work, I'll have to add the keel strip that was over looked. However the cracked hull has been repaired.

The biggest problem to over come will be the hatch covers. Without them she's not sea worthy. But I'll improvise.

I want thank everyone who took part either as a contributor to the Canadian Cancer Society or as a direct or indirect sponsor. Together we raised $5,800 to help in the fight against cancer. A special thanks goes to Nigel Denis, Shawna and Leon.

Foot note
After a week in the garage the preliminary keel strip has been added to the Romany, it still needs a little work. I'm not very good at gel coating but it'll due for now. late yesterday afternoon the kayak was introduced to the Pacific Ocean for the first time. It felt great, indeed she performed every bit a well as my limited memory recalled. Short smooth turns without any drama or suspense, she picks up following waves like a dream and surfs better then the surfer sitting in the cockpit. I'm going to really love this kayak.

After standing back and assessing the keel strip I added I contacted Peter Harris of Pacifica Paddle Sports and will have him tear the strip off and replace it. I learned two lessons from this exercise don't gel coat in the garage when the wife is home and keel strips are a lot harder to do then small repairs.

Sea Kayaker April Issue

2009-04-10T14:18:00.000-07:00

Picked up the April issue of Sea Kayaker magazine to read on the flight over to Europe and was pleased to find myself drawn into a great edition.

Three items jumped out above the usual, Chris Cunningham's editorial, the letter from Pat Donlin and the article on Health. Like many in my generation I suffer from acid reflux an found the last item to be particularly pertinent.

But first to the editorial. I carefully read and re read the editorial then went to the letter from Pat Donlin that raised the question. I concluded that there were really two questions here; 1st should Search and Rescue (SAR) Teams be expected to come to the rescue of high risk adventurers? And 2nd should we idolize these adventurers.

Cunningham takes on the first question and answers it with an emphatic yes. He of course is absolutely correct. No SAR team, be they professional or volunteer units, has a litmus test to determine if a response is warranted. Lets see, you're irresponsible, poorly trained, poorly equipped and not very admirable, sorry we can't save your soul. Thankfully it does not work like that.

But the second question never really gets resolved. It's a tricky one. One of those principal, ethical and moral questions whose answer is usually found in some Grey area. Neither yes or no. The type of question that confounds the usual rhetoric generators - politicians and sports figures. In Donlin's letter it's implied that we should not idolize these adventures. The question is never clearly stated but it lays there between the lines.

Cunningham comes at this question sort of sideways because to some extent the magazine is part of the myth making machine. It regularly runs story's of adventurers accounts of their firsts a-rounds or fast crossings. In fact there is an excellent account in the April issue about the descent of the Atrato river in Columbia.

These story's when well told inspire. Maybe they provide the spark to do something extraordinary in another wise ordinary life. Or, maybe they only light up the imagination for a moment or two. Either is important and a positive result.

Cunningham references Joshu Sloccum's adventure as the first person to solo sail around the world. But don't take his word for it. Read Slocum's book. I believe the book is what made the adventure. It was his ability as a story teller that elevated the events. Face it sailing alone entails long stretches of tedium, boredom personified. The same happens on kayak trips, but a good writer can make the adventure.

Most adventures are complicated undertakings made simple while the people who undertake them always remain complex. You train, you develop the skills, you plan, you organize, you implement it's straight forward, it's just not easy.

When I was a boy I idolized a certain sports figure. I cut his pictures out of Sports Illustrated and taped them to my bedroom walls. This was long before the swim suit editions or I am sure other figures would have made it to the wall. Later I learned that my hero was a wife beater. Heroism crashed hard that day.

So as a father the lesson I taught my son was not to put people on to high a pedestal. Celebrate the accomplishment but keep in mind how complex humans are.

Freya Hoffmeister has left her family to complete her circumnavigation of Australia. Even if I had her skill, her fitness and her tenacity I would not do what she is doing. My family and the joy I derived from raising my son has kept me at home. That's about values mine are simply different from Freya's.

In fact I'm so out of step with the world that I believe raising a child up to be a successful and compassionate part of society is the greatest thing any parent can do. Paddling around a continent pales in comparison. Call me old fashioned.

Nevertheless when she succeeds I hope her account inspires someone to do something extraordinary, who knows maybe it'll be her own son.

Freya is closing in on successfully completing the 575 km crossing the Sea of Carpentaria.

More From Paris - late March

2009-04-09T11:01:00.000-07:00

Two days in Paris and I no longer sound like a rube from Purgatory Ontario. Not bad for a guy with two weeks of grade nine French. Don't get me wrong. I wanted to learn French in high school but my basketball coach told me, "you have to keep your grade average up and that Dike fails all the jocks in her French class." Just because she was Dutch was no reason to slander her. Nevertheless I left the French lessons behind to my everlasting regret.

Now when I enthusiastically greet people in Paris they don't look about me as a poor Angles, they look upon me more as the village idiot from Gascony. I'm moving up.

Our first stop of the day was the Rodin Museum, it was just around the corner and only six kilometers from the hotel - so we walked. We could have take the tube from the hotel door and got out at the gate to the museum but it was pouring rain so we walked. Once inside we picked up a floor map rented the audio guides and headed off. The museum started life as the Hotel Biron. After falling on hard times it was taken over by nuns who operated it as a school. judging by the way they stripped the building of all its paintings it must have been a rather bleak school. Next it became an artist community headed up by Rodin himself and finally if evolved into the museum it is today.

As this was an evolutionary process there are some quirky things going on. For instance the floor map is conveniently numbered as is the audio guide. Unfortunately the exhibits and floor map numbering system are not entirely related to the audio guide. I believe this is done as a test to humble the casual tourists. Just as you begin to see what Rodin was doing to the face of that poor gargoyle you realize your actually facing the wrong way and the audio guide is talking about the piece behind you. These French artist enjoy a clever joke as much as the rest of us.

Rodin was of course a genius. He worked on the gates of hell for 30 years making changes trying to get it just right. Interestingly his mistress went crazy and had to be confined for the last 30 years of her life. Hmmmm!

Perhaps the most remarkable part of the tour is the stroll through the gardens. Here the scale of the sculptures are displayed to there perfect glory. Late spring would be an ideal time to visit when the trees, shrubs and beds are in full bloom. Of course, "The Thinker," is very prominent. You come across it just before you enter the main museum. The Gates of Hell are off to the right but the sculpture that I found most intriguing was that of the Burgers of Calais. If you walk through the gardens counter clockwise it'll be the last one you see before you exit the property.

After leaving the Rodin museum we head to the Musee d'Orsay. This is a converted railway station right along the south bank of the Seine. It is an impressive museum, very grand in it's scale. It contains works from Monet, Manet, Renoir, Cezanne, Van Gogh and countless others. With it's soaring ceiling this is a very impressive site and would be worthy of an extended multi day visit, but we were running short of time.

Day Two

Leaping backward from Rodin to the the Palace of Versailles we disembark from the metro and walk 500 meters turn the corner and there's the Palace. On this cold wind swept day it does not immediately overwhelm. But as we approach the gates the sun breaks free of the clouds and the gates ignite in a wild display of golden light, just as quickly the sun retreats leaving us with only a hint of what awaits inside.

If you have an Internet ticket go to the stone outpost to the right of the gate and exchange your electronic ticket for a proper pass. Don't go directly to the main entrance without the pass. You'll end up going back for it. Do get an audio guide, again they can be quirky but with thousands of people jostling for position they're ideal - just stick the speaker to your hear and ignore the throngs.

Opulence is not a grand enough word to discribe Versailles. From its beginning as a hunting lodge Louis XIV created what is one of the worlds leading heritage sites. The Hall of Mirrors, the grand canal and fountains are astounding. For me the Grand and Petite Trianon's were fascinating. Being almost a mile from the main Palace in the Marie-Antoinette's estate they were largely empty of the crowds in the Palace. Ironically that was exactly why they were built sort of a retreat from the main court and all the intrigue around the Royals.

If you go heed the advice go on less busy days and get there early. Take the metro.

Trains late March

2009-04-09T10:57:00.000-07:00

We left Amsterdam in a flurry of wind and rain the perfect anticipation for a high speed train rush to Paris. It was only a tease as the train plods along comfortably like a Dutch burger through the flat and featureless countryside.

Getting out of the city is a blessing as the miles roll by you get a real sense of what the Dutch Masters and van Gogh were capturing. It is the sky that dominates. As in Saskatchewan the sky writes the poetry.

Holland in the winter would be a giant studio for the landscape artist. With the sun low in the southern sky for much of the day, the magic light of morning and evening is elongated giving the artist time to capture the subtle play of light on thunderheads, fleeting clouds and wisps of mists. But there is little warmth in this sunlight. the price of painting here could be high as the artist racing against the cold would have to work fast capturing the light before the seemingly ever present rain washes all away and the cold numbed fingers let the brush drop from the hand,

As we roll south the land is flat and without relief; a hill would be a welcome site. Everywhere the canals hold back the water. But they 're cold and without natures sparkle they are only ditches lacking the life of a river or the sea.

Through the low lands the train rolls until finally we reach Brussels where the train inexplicably breaks down in the terminal. There's a practiced scramble for a sister train, apparently this happens often. Once reembarked we slip into France and truly begin to race with the small countries behind us we literally begin to cut through the rolling hills of northern France faster and faster we plummet south trying in vain to catch the days last rays of sun.

Finally as the sun sets we slide into Gare Nord. Off the train we climb down into the darkness of the Metro only to pop up like mushrooms miles away. A short walk and we have reached our hotel. Next to the hotel is a tiny restaurant, small tables covered in pure white linen we crack open the glass pane that separates the magical room from the sidewalk and sit down to a wonderful dinner. Its what you come to Paris for. A perfect first night.

Off to Amsterdam and Paris

2009-04-07T09:42:00.000-07:00

Heathrow, March 23

Vancouver to Heathrow sharing my corner of the AC flying canoe with a nice Norwegian herring fisherman. Really! After the first two hours I couldn't tell he fished at all.

The Norwegians have discovered Revelstoke as a ski haven. Granted the mountain is sublime and the snow light and fluffy but I suspect the main attraction is the price. These young Nordic gods can descend on the village, ski the mountains for a week, and fly home for the price of a cup of coffee in Oslo.

After arriving and making my way from Terminal 3 to Terminal 1 I found myself craving a plate of smoked herring. Odd as I normally don't like smoked fish. Luckily there's just enough time in Heathrow to sample the ale list at The Tin Goose. I've started with a pint of London Pride; it has a fruity after taste.

The place is full of pale Irish faces wearing rugby union green shirts and sporting some massive hangovers from Ireland's defeat of the Welsh for the Six Nations cup. Normally the Irish accent is a lilting thing of beauty but these voices are ruined wrecks from 80 minutes of singing and god knows how many hours of drinking. I share a pint of Guinness with a few before drifting off to make my connections to Amsterdam.

This of course is not a usual kayaking trip. Normally if I'm crossing the Atlantic I'm heading for the Irish Sea but this time the destination is not adventure but romance. I'm “hoookiing” up with my beautiful wife in Amsterdam for a few days then it's down to Paris where we honeymooned 23 years ago. I may find time to check out kayaking on the Seine – not likely.

Wednesday March 24

It's now early Wednesday morning and my beautiful wife is upstairs fast asleep. It's raining hard in Amsterdam. Is there any other way. From my window seat at the Port de Cleve hotel I look across the Estrada at an ancient protestant church. Built in the traditional cross shape the Dutch have managed to squeeze in a house between the balustrades. Very practical.

Yesterday we visited the Vincent van Gogh museum and took in “The Colour's of the Night” show. Obviously Van Gogh was a tortured genius but I had no idea that his entire body of work, about 800 paintings, was created in only ten years.

Van Gogh's legacy is not just the wonderful works of art that he created but through that art he allows us to travel through time. Sit in front of one of his pastoral scenes or better yet the night sky over the City of Rhone and you find yourself transported back in time. His landscapes be they the rural views of Holland or the city scenes of Paris and the various villages he lived in are riveting.

Of course the show is extremely popular. Tourists, locals students and school children under the respectful care of curators vie for viewing space. I enjoy listening in as the curators explain this or that aspect of various works. Of course I cannot comprehend a word, but it's a hardly necessary as the passion and respect they convey is universal.

We use an audio headset to help fill in the gaps in our knowledge of Van Gogh. These things are both a blessing and a curse. They educate but I find some of the interpretations just silly. You get a priest like voice, after all they invented interpretive mumble jumble, intoning the listener to; “Look at how Van Gogh has caste the mans face in light and shadow to depict the mans melancholy, regret and sadness of his character.” Well how do you know! Maybe he's just lost a hundred guilders betting on the wrong cards. I much prefer it when the curators stick to the facts and leave the impressions and interpretations to the viewer.

The crowds in the museum can be diverting yet there are roses amongst the brambles. A young woman just on the cusp of womanhood walks across the room. I only see her face in profile framed by her long brown hair but her poise and grace is electric. Like many Dutch women she is fashionably dressed in high leather boots, black tights and a short flirty skirt. I shamelessly watch as she walks across the gallery. Quickly I look about and find at least a half dozen people watching her, yet she's oblivious. All too soon she disappears around a corner fleetingly, like the sun light on Van Gogh's fields of wheat, she's gone. For a moment I thought I could hear a chuckle and a sigh of appreciation. The old master certainly had and eye for beauty.

Squamish Stl'Atl'Imax Cultural Centre

2009-03-08T12:32:00.001-07:00

In early February I had the privilege of accompanies an Australian delegation of government reps and aboriginal elders to the Squamish Stl'Atl'Imax Cultural Centre in Whistler.

This is a new cultural centre built to celebrate the cultures of two distinct native nations, the coast Squamish and the mountain Stl'Atl'Imix nations. Historically both nations shared this land so it's fitting that a cooperative effort has gone into the creation and maintenance of the centre. It's a beautiful post and beam long house that features a wall of glass.

Glass walls are hardly traditional but no one minds as the light flowing into the long house perfectly highlights the cultural artifacts and the amazing works of art displayed within.

Shortly after arriving we were welcomed with the singing of a Jimie Jimie song which normally would have been performed as a welcome to a Potlatch celebration. Two things stood out about the performance. When the singer lowered his head took a deep breath and broke into song, all activity in the building stopped. As the notes rose and filled the long house people frozen enraptured by this amazing voice. It was opera-matic in range and texture.

As part of the performance we were invited to dance. Our earnest but some what lacking efforts were eclipse by this one woman who danced the part of the eagle. Her performance was trans- formative. I swear for a moment she became the eagle. It was incredible.

If you visit take time to examine the dug out canoes and try to image paddling them back and forth across Georgia Strait. I'm sticking to my kayak.

Sad day for Kingston General Hospital

2009-03-04T14:36:00.000-08:00

From Kingston General Hospital there is a commanding view of Lake Ontario. In the summer sailors ply the waters practicing their skills. Some go on to be Olympians. In the winter ice boats fly across the ice in the bright but cold sun light.

Inside, in the halls of the hospital, doctors and surgeons hone their skills. Some have made significant contributions to the health and well being of not just their patients but of patients around the world.

I know this as I am one. The treatment that I am undergoing to combat bladder cancer was developed at KGH. Three years ago cardiac surgeons at KGH saved my fathers life. In February more surgeons successfully performed open heart surgery on my mother.

For these services I am grateful and indebted to KGH. In fact I had hoped to visit the cancer research facility and thank the researchers for the efforts of their predecessors. A year ago when I was diagnosed with stage two cancer I choose to focus not on the cancer but on raising money for cancer research. With the help of a great many people I solo circumnavigated the Isle of Man in a kayak and raised $5,800 cancer research.

My fight against bladder cancer began years ago at KGH where doctors developed the treatment that I under went. I wanted to encourage the present researchers to keep up the fight. It seemed to be a fitting thing to do, bringing my fight full circle back to the beginning.

But I was put off as not all is as it should be at this once great facility.

In February for six consecutive days I walked through the main entrance to KGH. Each day it was easy to imagine I was walking into an east Vancouver welfare hotel. The entrance was that dirty.

Walking up to the revolving door that traps the cold winter air is depressing enough. Just outside the door patients and visitors huddle pathetically like stoned door men puffing madly before the cold drives them back inside. Inside the revolving door the atmosphere is contaminated with the second hand smoke of the desperate.

There is worse to come. The butts of countless cigarettes lay trapped in the revolving door, not just for a shift or a day, but after a week it appears they're trapped there forever.

Through the door the once black floor mat lays there stained white with winter salt. To the right there is abandoned janitorial equipment. To the left a floor polisher or vacuum languishes unused, ironically, gathering dust.

Gathering dust is not hard to do as there is plenty to go around. Casually walk over to the window and draw your finger along the radiator top and it will come away grey.

In defence of KGH it is undergoing renovations. Unfortunately for KGH so are a lot of other hospitals across this country. In my home town the Royal Jubilee hospital has been a construction site for a good many years. Yet it's public areas never fell this low.

Further inside in the interest of good health take the stairs, but try not breathe too deeply or to focus on the sweepings and dust bunnies left behind by janitorial crews who have either been laid off, are on strike, or simply do not give a damn.

None of this is what prompted this account.

On day five walking into my mothers room a used needle was carelessly left laying on the floor of my mothers hospital room.

When I discovered the needle I put on a pair of protective gloves and disposed of it in the sharps container as I have been trained to do. In retrospect I should have brought it to the attention of the staff.

It was not until latter while talking with my family that I started thinking about how standards at the hospital had fallen in three short years.

Three years ago the staff on the recovery ward were constantly working with my father, they walked him throughout the day keeping him focused on his recovery. This time most of the staff visiting my mothers room were student nurses practising the taking of vital signs or nurses aids. Most of the walking and support provided to my mother came from family members and from a couple nurses assistant who long ago were classmates of mine. Maybe this is as it should be.

Yet I cannot help think that the sub standard face that KGH presents to the public in its lobby might just be affecting what is going on up on the wards. If standards are allowed to slide in one area how long will it be before they slip in others?

Times are tough, money and funding budgets are stretched for everyone, yadda, yadda, yadda. We've all heard it all before but I'm betting that if one person at KGH cared about the public's impression of this facility things could change. Perhaps that person will be the new CEO Leslee Thompson.

If this is the face of public health care in Eastern Ontario and if it doesn't change it won't be long until the public starts crying out for private care facilities and services.

New Video from Bryan Smith

2009-02-06T16:10:00.000-08:00

Check this out. The trailler is very cool. The whirlpool is amazing.

Eastern Horizons Trailer from Bryan Smith on Vimeo.

Welsh Pub Crawl - Pub Reviews

2009-02-06T12:45:00.000-08:00

The Royal Oak Hotel Betws-Y-Coed
Holyhead Road Betws-Y-Coed Gwynedd LL24 0AY
More of a restaurant/pub then the traditional pub, warm fireplace, lots of tourists, some walkers, hikers and outdoors types. Has a good selection of commercial ales, but the food is sub par. Mostly that trucked in stuff that's reheated in a microwave.

George & Dragon Hotel Beaumaris Church Street Beaumaris
This is an excellent pub, good ale, in a tiny pub. You've got to be social because, "ya gona b sitn wid da naybrrs." Fantastic food in the dining room which 200 years ago use to be the stables. They've been mucked out. This would be a great place to bring your partner and plan a sleep over upstairs. Lots of history; Swift, Dickens and the like all have stayed here. I even picked up a genuine Dickens autograph in the pub. This local, down on his luck, sold it to me for a pint. Apparently it's the only autograph Dickens signed with a ball point pen - worth a fortune!

Black Boy InnCaernarfon Northgate Street
Named after a black publican, this is the home of Welsh nationalism where the drive to revitalize the language started; good breakfast, really warm and welcoming staff, ask to see the wad of funny money collected from travellers over the years. Look for the $50,000 bank note from Zimbabwe with the best before date. Caernarfon is the seat of the Prince of Wales, the castle dominates the town and the pub is a good place to start and end your tour. The food here is very good. I had a great breakfast. There's nothing like starting your day in a pub except maybe ending the day in the same pub. I came close as I was waiting for my family to come up from London. They were six hours late. The staff are warm and welcoming especially if you're carrying a kayak paddle and can spin a tale or two.

Ye Old Mail Coach Conwy High Street
This was a hard place to like, warm ale is ok, hot is something else, only pub in Wales that I didn’t feel welcome in.

Albion Conwy 6 Uppergate Street
Run by Kerry Cresswell, her three sons and someone named Baz. There are no local ales but they serve good commercial pints. Check out the fireplace that burns real coal. - Very warm on a wet and cold day.

The Bluebell Inn Conwy Castle Street
Ah the Bluebell, it’s now run by a former SAS Non Commissioned Officer. There's a nice outdoor courtyard out back. Unfortunately the Bluebell has given in to the demand for video slots, and loud electric bands that feature some wanna be DJ scratching out noise with a record player, take a pass.

The Liverpool Arms Conwy Lower Gate Street
Best in Conwy for people watching, it’s right on the quay so you’ll find a mix of locals and tourists. It’s small, unpretentious and lovely, good mix of ales. If you take your pint outside you’ll get it in a plastic cup, outside can be cool as the wind comes straight off the Irish Sea and the estuary which really dries out on the ebb. Watch the current as the Conwy River outflow makes for some interesting boating. This is a great place to enjoy a drink. Conwy castle is just to your right, the library is back through the lower gate through the wall and some hovel called the smallest home in Wales is to your left. Check out the historic photo the the undefeated Lions Rugby Team. These are hard men with hearts of oak, or was that heads of oak.

The Kings Head Llandudno Old Road Llandudno
Great old fashioned pub, just like they should be, warm & friendly with an open fire. Best in Llandudno. Food was good, may have been great, but was totally distracted by the two women sitting next to us. What a pair! Good selection of draught bitters, the sort of pub one could happily spend all day in, in fact I did. The pub is located at the bottom terminal of the tram up the Great Orme; never got around to making the trip.

London Hotel Llandudno 131 Mostyn Street
Busy, very busy, but has good service and lots of ales, kind of funky, I wouldn’t call this a traditional pub, it serves latte’s for god’s sake, but for some reason I liked it.

The Groes Inn Conwy Nr. Conwy
Oldest licensed pub in Wales 1573, lots of older pubs but this one was licensed which seems odd. An Irishman, a Welshman and a Canadian are well into their cups, someone calls the Canadian a Yank. Things get out of hand. The evening ends with the trio singing folk songs to the sheep in a pasture. Oh, the food was good too.

Plough and Harrow Monknash, Nr Cowbridge
You're going to have to work to find this place but it's worth the trip. All the ales are from small cottage breweries at this freehold. Some of the best ales I sampled in Wales where right here. Major disappoint was the beer festival which was scheduled for the following week - we had to miss it. tears were shed. However the food was great, try the "Faggots with Spotted Dick" for desert. Go ahead the publican will really warm up to you. Small pub, large fire, tiny bar, but lots of real Welsh locals. Really liked this place. I had a great photo of myself surrounded by empty kegs piled three and four high in a sheep pen but the bloody computer ate it.

The Edinburgh CastleHolyhead Black Bridge
Local hangout for kayakers serves a good breakfast, expect beans with your eggs, and if you ask for poached eggs you’ll get something like “Air now, d’r fr’m da market ain’t da.” Poached; wont ya take us fer”!

The Boston Arms Hollyhead 1 London Road
Not very remarkable, had some interesting nautical paintings or photos, and a limited selection of ales. Centuries ago Johathan Swift, wrote a devastating review of the town of Hollyhead while waiting for the tide to turn and the captain to clear out of a pub. Things have improved. Slightly. Two best things to do in town are: Get a kayak from Nigel Denis and paddle away or catch a ferry to Dublin.

Red Lion Inn Llansannan High Street
If you’ve stumbled in here you are well and truly lost as this pub is well off the beaten track, never the less it’s a fine rural pub with a horse motif and a legendary chair, ask the publican to explain. There's a pub across the road called something like Saladin's Head. Park in front of this place and walk back to the Red Lion.

Notes: You don’t have to order a pint. You can always order a glass, which is of course much smaller. If you find you like it then you can follow up with a pint or move on to something else. If you've just come in from hiking in Snowdonia or from deconstructing a Welsh cottage start off with a glass of lime and water. It'll rehydrate you and you'll enjoy the subsequent pints more.

Green King is a stunning IPA, highly recommended. Brains sponsors the Welsh Rugby team. The brewery is located right across the street from the regional prison in Cardiff. They can be cruel. Brains apparently has been proven to have no affect what so ever on intellect, refinement or good taste. Enough said.

Freeholds are pubs that are not associated with any brewery, consequently they serve ales, bitters and stouts from a variety of sources, usually small local cottage breweries. The reality is that in GB more and more pubs are owned by the major breweries and managed by an employee of the brewery. This is better then the alternative of shutting the pub down. Support your local Freehold. Another development is the advent of pubs linked to motels along the major motorways. If you need a place to sleep and eat these places are fine but almost totally devoid of character. Kind of like a Holiday Inn in Pittsburgh.
List of Welsh breweries
This list is incomplete Artisan Brewery, Cardiff
• Black Mountain, Llangadog, Carmarthenshire
• Breconshire Brewery, Brecon, Powys
• Bryncelyn Brewery, Ystalyfera, Neath Port Talbot
• Bullmastiff Brewery, Leckwith, Cardiff
• Carter's Brewery, Machen, Caerphilly
• The Celt Experience, Caerphilly
• Bragdy Ceredigion Brewery, New Quay, Ceredigion
• Coles Family Brewery, Llandarog
• Conwy Brewery Ltd, Conwy
• Cwmbran Brewery, Upper Cwmbran
• Wm Evan Evans Brewery, Llandeilo, Carmarthenshire
• Facer's Flintshire Brewery, Flint, Flintshire
• Felinfoel Brewery Company, Ltd., Felinfoel, Llanelli oldest regional brewery in Wales
• Ffos y Ffin Brewery, Capel Dewi, Carmarthen
• The Flock Inn Brewery, Brechfa, Carmarthen
• The Great Orme Brewery Ltd/Bragdy'r Gogarth, Colwyn Bay
• Bragdy Gwynant, Capel Bangor, Aberystwyth
• The Jacobi Brewery of Caio, Penlanwen, Pumsaint, Llanwrda
• Jolly Brewer, Wrexham
• Kingstone Brewery, Whitebrook, Monmouth
• Lord Raglan brewery, Merthyr Tydfil

Trail Island Feb. 4, 2009

2009-02-05T11:38:00.000-08:00

Headed south out of Oak Bay down to Trail Island to catch a ride on the tide race south of the island on Wednesday. Bright blue sky, temperatures in the plus double digits, nice and warm.

Only one problem - no wind meant no tide race. Oh well it was a good paddle with good friends. We got off to a fast start, too fast actually as most stopped to strip off a layer of winter clothing. I sculled and rolled for golf balls just off the beach next to the Oak Bay Golf course.

There simply are not enough duffers at this course as there were few golf balls to roll and retrieve. In fact the one I went for was just too deep and I couldn't reach it.

We played in the channel that splits Trial Island practicing breakins and breakouts along the eddy line, but with out much current it was hard to get the boat to spin in and then back out. More work needs to be done on this skill set.

We made the south end of Trial around noon, had lunch and headed back to the put in. Total distance 7.23nm, Moving time 2hr 57 min, Max spd 5.2kt overall average spd 2 kt. Total distance for the year 24.3Nm.

Rough Water

2009-02-01T22:20:00.000-08:00

Baynes Channel Feb 01, 2009

Jesus, Mary Mother of God! What a day to be on the water. The tide race at Baynes Channel was a monster. Something took possession of the tide race today and created conditions that from shore were totally deceptive.

The winds were blowing a steady 15 to 20 knots out of the South-east and were stacking up what appeared to be 4 and 5 foot wind waves against a 3.75 knot ebbing currant about 150 metres off shore.

As the waves were breaking much further out it appeared things were not as chaotic as the trip out to Baynes a few weeks back. Appearances can be deceptive. From shore Mike G., Dorothea, and myself decided to paddle North east and surf off the edge of the tide race. From that point I wanted, after catching, a few rides to swing about and ride the current straight through the race and come out the bottom.

Simple plan. I hung back setting up the camera to take a series of automatic shots here's the link http://picasaweb.google.com/gordwarner/BaynesChannelFeb0109#" Just as we were about to enter the race we were joined by my old friend Craig Lylack. He'd been out for a half hour and thought conditions were about the same as when he'd started.

I followed Mike into the race and came about and tried to catch some of waves back toward shore. But these beast were bigger then the 4 and 5 foot I'd estimated most were 8 footers with some larger monsters. Mostly I found myself going up and down and making little head way back against the 3.75 knot current.

On one up ride I caught a glimpse of Mike, but saw no sign of Dorothea. It was a struggle to look around and stay up right. Try as I might I could not see any sign of her and was growing worried.

My position was also becoming more and more tentative as I was slowly being pushed south-west towards the rocks. I decided to move offshore by again by heading north-east away from the fixed light on the rocks. As I was doing so Craig came within hailing distance and asked what Dorothea was paddling.

He then told me she was on the rocks. I took this to mean she'd come out of her boat and had been washed into the shore. Turning south-west I smashed my way through to the bottom of the race where I could see two-thirds of a kayak on the rocks but no paddler.

As I drew nearer I finally saw Dorothea high up on the rocks and eventually could see the stern of her boat. It had been obscured by a rock. My heart slowed down a beat or two.

From below the tide race Mike, Craig and myself compared notes. Wow, loose hips but very tight sphincter muscles.

Nevertheless we decided to paddle out and back up through the race. Off we headed, Mike was soon being pushed back in toward the buoy light on the rock. Craig quickly put a lot of distance on both of us. I tried to head out further then up into the tidal stream but also found myself being shoved back towards the rock. Both Mike and I bailed. Craig carried on and got roughly into the top of the tide race and stalled there for the next 20 minutes.

I shouted to Mike to stand by as we might be making a rescue at any moment.
Mike paddled up inside the rocks to keep and eye out for Craig at the top while I stayed on station at the bottom of the tide race where he'd be flushed out if he was to come out of his boat.

For the longest while I watched as Craig's paddle wind milled through the air, he was going up and down but against San Juan Island in the background I could see little forward progress.

I know this man to be tough and strong and I was beginning to think he might be stupid as it seemed inevitable that he'd tire and be overwhelmed. For a time he'd make 15 to 20 feet then be swept back. Then I saw him get knocked over and sink behind a swell. I thought that's it; but he rolled or sculled back up.

Then when all appeared lost he caught a lull and was able to surf out of the north-west end of the tide race. He made straight for his put in site too tired to come down to us.

While he was fighting to get out I kept saying, "come on just turn the boat and let the current flush you back down here to the bottom". It's what I would have done. But he hung in and eventually made it through. A determined bit of paddling.

I swung back to the rock where Dorothea had come ashore. She'd repositioned her boat to the lee side of the rock and pulled it completely clear of the water. But while watching the struggle out in the race the wind had blown her kayak right off the rock. Luckily it had been blown straight into the gravel beach in front of the famous Williams glass house.

We got Dorothea reconnected with her steed and called it a day. Total time on the water maybe two hours.

As an aside I recently read a review of the new Delta Double where it was claimed to be a good rough water handling boat. This was concluded after it was taken to Skookumchuck and surfed. I don't know how it was paddled at the "Chuck", however surfing the front wave is not a true rough water test. Successfully paddling the tide race behind the front wave that's a test.

Becher Bay Jan 28 09

2009-01-29T23:05:00.000-08:00

Wednesday was a magical day. One of those days with three seasons packed into it, sun wind rain, cold, more wind, more rain, and more sun. Sort of fall, winter, and spring in just a few short hours. I had the pleasure of spending this day with two of my fine friends John L and Dan G.

The only down side was that Heike could not join us. He was tucked in safe at home recovering from a unplanned conjoining of his bike with the front bumper of a car. You were missed Heike.

Our arrival at the marina was perfectly timed with a spring like rain shower. Just enough rain fell to ensure everything got wet. Once launched and out beyond the slips the cold wind hit us and as we slipped across Becher Bay I pulled the pokies out. Our plan was to traverse out along the more interesting east shore of Becher Bay and make our way east to Shelter Island in Whirl Bay. this area is just west of Race Rocks in Juan de Fuca strait.

Even with the rock hoping it was not long until we were passing Large Bedford Island. Unable to cross the tumbo due to the low water we retreated and circumnavigated the island. Out at the mouth of the bay the South west winds coming down Juan de Fuca Strait picked up. We cut between Large and South Bedford to avoid the full exposure tothe swells and wind in Juan de Fuca Strait.

Once in the lee of Large Bedford, John tuned into the weather channel and we rafted up to listen to the weather update. I was concerned and didn't want to round Church Point without a report from Race Rocks. While rafted up and waiting for the report we were making 2.5 knots against the ebbing current. The swell coming in against the ebb backed by the wind was worrisome. Sure enough at Race Rocks the wind was blowing 25 and gusting to 30 knots. We turned back toward Large Bedford that was now well behind us.

Splashing about in the swell and surf I put the camera on auto and fired off some photos as we made our way back to the tumbo for tea. After tea we made our way out to West Bedford and got into some good sized five and six foot waves. Unfortunately I inadvertently shut the camera off and missed photos from the most dramatic part of the trip.

Dan thought John was going to do a 360 spin at one point. I was a little worried for a few moments but once we moved inside things settled down. After a short lunch we headed back to the launch site.

It was a short but intense day with lots of fun. Total distance was only 6.72 knots the moving average was 2.4 and my max speed was 5.5 knots, paddling time was 2 hours and 45 minutes.

Race Rocks and Baynes Channel Trips

2009-01-25T14:24:00.000-08:00

This past week I managed to get in on a couple of club paddles. the first one out to Race Rocks on what turned out to be one of the flattest days, water wise, that I have experienced at RR. I followed that up with a lumpy crossing of Baynes Channel off Oak Bay yesterday.

Saturday in Baynes was a cold day with winds from the NE from 10 12 knots but it was a lot of fun. The waves were just at that size to keep things interesting not to large, not to small, just right. The less experienced had fun while the jaded and twisted were kept amused.

The beach talk got kind of animated as the leader for the days paddle chose to split the group into those who wanted to stay inshore and those who wanted to challenge themselves in potentially rougher water. It was policy versus flexibility. Thankfully flexibility won the day but perhaps not the battle.

Wednesday at RR was a much larger paddle 13 in total made the crossing there and back. As there was little current at the rocks we detoured and slipped down the coast to the Bedford Islets before doubling back to Pedder Bay.

Brown Ale! IPA!, Brown, IPA and the debate goes on and on...

Around the corner from Rocky Point the military boys had the red danger flag up as they were playing with high explosives under water. Which curtailed any opportunity to go rock hopping in one of the best areas along that coast. In all the years I've paddled here that was the first time I'd seen the warning flag flying. Truth is I missed it entirely until it was pointed out.

Between the paddles I attended a very informative workshop on how to use your GPS. Finially I'm now on the cusp of being able to use the GPS for something more then a paper weight. Here's some numbers from Saturday trip 7.44Nm, Moving time 3hr07min, Max Spd 6.9 (surfing) Moving avg 2.4 overall av 1.8 Soon I'll have some charts an will be able to plot routes, trips and stuff. Wow! Here's a link to a short slide show of Baynes Channel with little current and winds from the NE at 10 to 12 knots.
http://picasaweb.google.com/gordwarner/Movies#

Steve Pelton

2009-01-10T17:20:00.000-08:00

Steve Pelton 1942 - 2009

Good by old friend.

Buddy System Indeed!

2009-01-09T18:20:00.001-08:00

Mike O'Connor in Baynes Channel on a 3.75 knot ebb, zero winds Feb. 09. 2008

On a group excursion into an active Baynes Channel Tide Race last week I enjoyed some interesting group dynamics.

Baynes Channel off the end of 10 Mile Point in Victoria BC, under the right circumstances, can be a lot of fun as long as you manage the risk. Seldom do I venture into these waters in these conditions with paddlers who's skills I don't know. This was one of the exceptions.

On this occasion I suggested that if anyone lost their boat that we might regroup downstream on Jemmey Jones Island, if we were fortunate to catch up with the kayak, only to be told you can't land there.

Odd that; as I've stood on top of Jemmey Jones in a 45 knot Gale after
landing with five other kayakers. I know this for a fact as my friend Mike Jackson was standing next to me when he measured the wind speed with his nifty wind gauge.

During the shore meeting last weekend one paddler said she didn't want to paddle in the tide race but only on the edge, I then watched her and her "Buddy" paddle strait into the race. I thought that very odd as well.

I concluded either she has a short term memory problem or more likely does not understand the affects of current. Being familiar with the tide race I had suggested either approaching it from the south, (no one wanted to do that) or that we paddle NE on a ferry glide and slide down onto the shoulder of the tide race to surf the outside breaking waves.

This couple paddled ESE and ended up in the tide race at a point where they would have been washed into the rocks at the end of the head land if or should they have the misfortune to capsized.

One of the other kayakers, a professional coach, was also alarmed by this turn of events. Together we attempted to get their attention and encourage them to play in a more risk free area.

Prior to launching I stressed the need to pay close attention to the group dynamics and to be on the lookout for anyone in trouble but that got over ruled by this woman and her close friend who insisted the buddy system was better.

At the end of the day I initiated an impromptu rescue session by coming out of my boat (planned but unanticipated at that particular point) I washed out at the south end of the rocks marked by the 10 Mile Buoy.

There were four kayakers in the immediate area, two came to assist, while the "buddies" never looked around and paddled off to the put in where they pulled their boats out. When we got back they didn't even know that a rescue had taken place. If things had gone badly we could have been in a bit of a spot.
The "Buddy System" should be the beginning of your group awareness not the end
of it.

When the wind is against the ebbing currents surfing waves form just in front of the distant headland. If the wind builds the waves build as well until break on the rocks. At that point you want to be watching, high and dry, from ashore.

2009-01-09T18:20:00.000-08:00

The Joy of Christmas Gift Giving

2009-01-05T15:42:00.000-08:00

This year I consulted my sister in-law regarding a gift that would wow my wife. Together we decided that a second pair of flannel pyjamas and slippers would be just the ticket. It's taken a while for me to wizen up but I'm not a total idiot.

My wife exchanged the pyjama's and slippers yesterday.

I've fired my sister in-law as a consultant and will be approaching sister number two with suggestions for a suitable birthday gift in February, followed by sister number three for Valentine's Day should things not work out with two.

I on the other hand I got two miniature Delft porcelain cats, a sugar bowl and a creamer for Christmas presents from my beloved.

I'll pause while you catch your breath.

Imagine my delight a I placed the cats on the mantel. First I put one at each end, then I tried both in the middle, both to the right, then left, one facing east the other west, both looking at one another, finally exhausted I just left them sitting wily nilly. Such fun.

Turning to the sugar bowl and creamer, I resolved to leave them for another day and walked down to the pub for a pint.

Back to Possession Point

2009-01-05T11:59:00.000-08:00

January 2nd burst onto the west coast following a New Year sun that washed the Strait of Juan de Fuca in brilliant sun light.

Brilliant but cold. By 11 AM the temperature had barely reach 3 C. Ice ponds had frozen on the top of my cockpit and hatch covers. Wherever the previous days rain drops had clung to the kayak there was a diamond of ice.

But the sea called, so after an unusual amount of foot dragging I had the boat into the water. The plan was to go out to Possession Point and shoot a series of rapid 10 second photos of the kayak as it shot through the surge channels.

I am such a Luddite. Just to be sure I slipped a spare battery into my jeans pocket before leaving home. Half way out to the Point I pulled out the camera set it up in the suction cup holder on deck and fired off a few photos.

The screen went dark. Dead battery. Spare still in jeans on end of bed at the in-laws. Way to go Homer. I pulled the camera off the deck and decided if there wasn't going to be any photos I might as well play hard in the swell and the rock gardens. The next two hours slide by until I realized I had no feelings in my toes.

I had good wool socks on inside the dry suit but with my feet squeezed into neoprene boots there was little loft in the socks to keep my feet warm. I pulled off the day hatch and dragged out a fresh crab meat sandwich. But once my hands were out of the pokies my fingers froze up like popscycles. It was time to head home. Just over two hours and well under 5 nautical miles but a great beginning to a new year.

West of East Sooke Park

2008-12-29T21:00:00.001-08:00

Christmas Day my family hiked out to my favourite kayaking site. My son Matthew Warner snapped a few pictures of the area. This elevated perspective captures the beauty of the area. Here's a link to all the photos.

http://picasaweb.google.com/gordwarner/Xmas2008#

Honour

2008-12-21T20:14:00.000-08:00

Tonight in my in basket I found one of those sentimental seasonal messages beseeching me to think of the lonely soldier hunkered down in a fox hole. I did, but my thoughts wandered.

Soldiers fight in different fields every day. Some take up arms and march to war in distant lands. They risk their lives often for nebulous goals or so that some unethical politician can score political points. Most will tell you they're fighting for the guy next to them, their buddies, the other guys in the patrol or platoon. Many don't even know why they're in the fight, or even care. They fight simply to survive. The nobility is added by people in comfortable rooms far from the fight.

Some soldiers pick up sutures and needles and fight to save lives in operating rooms. They're called surgeons. Others carry on the fight in labs. These people fight against incredible odds for years and years. They make tiny incremental gains against disabling diseases. They're called research scientists and doctors.

Some soldiers march into a class room to fight ignorance and to give the gift of knowledge not just to the poor and the down trodden but sometimes to the middle class and wealthy who have become trapped in the rhetoric of fools.

Some soldiers fight for your soul. They reach out and try to help people to a better path be it Christian, Islamic, Buddhist, Jewish or whatever.

Some are lawyers fighting to put criminals away or to protect those wrongly accused.
Many march off to dreary everyday jobs so they can provide for their families and children, they're called loving parents.

There are few parades for these people, few statutes and few words. By and large they are forgotten.

In 2008 I met a soldier who in fighting for his life asked others to join in the battle with him. Many responded and took up the fight. They were not able to engage his enemy directly but they gave their support to help sustain the fight that will in the end bring his enemy low.

Strangers, family and friends answered that call. The smallest contribution was a handful of coins, the largest was counted in the hundreds of dollars.

This soldiers fight took him into places that his supporters could not follow. Twice he fought major battles. Seven times he has fought minor skirmishes. Yet the war is not won but only at a stand still. His fight will last another two years if he can see it through to the end. The outcome is uncertain.

Yet throughout his battle he never asked anyone to help him. He only asked that people help others. During his battle he has been cut and bled countless times. Without drugs to easy the pain he grits his teeth and takes the cuts.

That soldiers life was enriched by all those friends and strangers who stepped up. Sadly he was left with one bleeding wound which he knows not how to heal. It came not from a knife but from words spoken by a loved one, "We've already given." The man's worth measured and found not worthy.

Personally I think 40 pieces of silver would have been a lighter burden to carry.

Merry Christmas

Christmas Wish List

2008-12-19T15:50:00.000-08:00

As a public service I here with publish the following Christmas gift guide should you be looking for that perfect gift for the discerning kayaker. Thus in no particular order the list:

Any book on kayaking from Pesda Press www.pwss.com

James Bond Quantum of Solace Omega wrist watch (for Wenley) $3,410 US

Any editon of Ocean Paddler www.oceanpaddlermagazine. available at Ecomarine in Vancouver or by post from the publisher

A helmet hero cam for the budding kayak videoographer www.goprocamera.com prices vary but expect $189 US

If you have not got one either A Romany or Explorer from Sea Kayak UK www.seakayakinguk.com

Any course from Body Boat Blade www.bodyboatblade.com

2009 Canadian Tide and Current Tables for Juan de Fuca Strait

Wasburne's Tables for the Current Atlas Juan de Fuca strait to Strait of Georgia

Moleskine Pocket Weekly Diary

Waterproof note book

A good novel for days trapped ashore

Fair winds and sunny skies and good health

Chocolates

Fine Scotch, a cool Ale, a pint of Guinness

Kokatat dry suits for all

Werner paddles for those who have not gone to Greenland

Weather, Humbug!

2008-12-17T21:12:00.000-08:00

Baynes Channel was a giant canvas of white horses last weekend. Winds out of the NE had whipped the waves into a manic state. From high above in the Uplands the Channel looked like a perfect playground as the wind relentlessly blew the tops off the waves.

The air temperature told a different story. Minus 17C. Handling the waves and current was within means. But what to wear? The only wise thing to do was to pull out the lap top and surf the net.

I started with a quick visit to one of my favourite blogs; onkayaks.squarespace.com/journal This is the play ground of one Ignacio Wenley Palacios. Check it out.

Wenley was on about developments in the world of safety flares. The new standard in hand held flares require the unscrewing of an end cap to allow the firing string to drop out. Supposed the screwed on cap will be more water proof then the old friction cap.

Most distressing is the addition of a two second delay before the flare ignites. One might surmise this gap in time was added to encourage the rescuee to have a look down the business end of the flare to see what's up. The subsequent removal of the said gentleman's head would negate a rescue attempt.

On a more positive aside Pains Wessex has introduced a one standard size for white collision flares, red hand helds, and smoke flares. Just make sure you're up wind of these before pulling the ignition cord. Pains Wessex has also introduced a nifty Zip Flare that should make loading these things a lot easier. The flare cartridges are held in a plastic box and the zip pen simply pushes onto the cartridges. Older versions of Zip flares left the cartridges to roll about or sink as they slipped through cold fingers.

In typical British fashion Pains Wessex's web page tells you everything about their products except the price. www.pwss.com What a Pains!

Wenley recommends igniting a barn to increase the effectiveness; "this red rocket aims to attract attention at long range, firing a 30,000 candela red signal to 300 metres of altitude with a signal that will burns for 40 seconds - its burning time is dramatically extended, would it land in a barn - suspended under a parachute."

Here on Vancouver it's hard to see parachuting barns after the sun goes down. So I recommend firing the flare into any nearby Lighthouse. The resulting Roman candle should burn for considerably longer then 40 seconds and be visible for some significant distances.

The Future of the Okisollo Tide Race

2008-12-04T17:33:00.000-08:00

Okisollo is a hidden gem on the north east side of Quadra Island in the Pacific Northwest. This little known Canadian jewel is becoming a favourite of adventure kayakers in British Columbia and area.

What attracts these adventurers is the very feature that during the earlier ages of recreational kayaking would strike fear into the pioneering kayak crowd. A perfectly submerged shelf creates a beautifully formed standing wave on every flood. With max currents hitting over nine knots the resulting wave and chaos south of the leading wave where depicted as places to carefully avoid.

Early kayak tourers would read of Okisollo in a multitude of guide books that all explained how to get through the area at slack tide thus avoiding the terrible fate that would overtake the unwary.

Times change. Performance kayaks are becoming as popular as the station wagon kayaks that allow us to take just about every camping device invented into the wilds. Today kayakers seek out the danger and rush of surfing the surge wave. Some challenge themselves in unofficial competitions to see who can ride the wave the longest. Others take on the challenge of the chaos behind the wave. Testing themselves against the pyramid waves, the current, and whirlpools to see who can stay upright the longest and more importantly who can roll back or skull back up after the inevitable dumping.

This phenomenon reflects the maturation of sea kayaking. We've moved forward from simple touring and benign recreation to the point where performance kayaks and more adrenaline seeking owners are becoming more common.

But time keeps on changing. Now there is an application to explore the potential of Okisollo for electrical generation. Orca Power has applied for a permit to study the area to determine if it would be feasible to place a tide generator below the shelf that creates the ten knot floods at Okisollo.

The government of British Columbia is embracing small hydro electrical generation proposals as a greener alternative to massive dam or hydro carbon power generation options. Not surprisingly this initiative has attracted potential power companies and investors to areas such as Okisollo, Skoocumchuck.

This attention has raised concerns in the adventure kayak community. The initial Not In My Back Yard (NIMBY) reaction has already lead to a letter writing campaign targeting the provincial officials who grant the license applications and local provincial legislature members.

Alarmist are painting a picture of industrial complexes complete with roads, power transformers, transmission lines and towers as the inevitable outcome if the research application should be granted.

While the kayak community is indebted to the people who brought this to the attention of the kayak world this is not the time to mount a NIMBY campaign. Knowledge should always come before action.

Further to the south an underwater tide current generator has been successfully installed at Race Rocks in Juan de Fuca Strait. Presently it collects power that is transmitted through underwater cables to the light house located on the islets. This power is then stored and used to reduce the dependence upon diesel generators on the island. This 'industrial' development has had no recreational affect on the area. Race rocks is still a popular destination for strong competent paddlers.

Of greater concern here is the voluntary prohibition against landing on Race Rocks.

The light house keeper is a bear with a minimal grasp of diplomacy. Instead of meeting kayakers at the shore and asking them not to land in the interest of protecting the colonies of seals and sea lions. He's been known to aggressively confront kayakers. Including one occasion when the islands where completely shrouded in fog. “Can't you people read? You can't land here,” he shouted, pointing back into a fog so thick you could not see the mans hand at the end of his arm.

But as far as power generation goes the Race Rock experiment seems to be working fine. One advantage of this location is that it works on both the flood and the ebb. At Okisollo this may not be the case which would seem to reduce the efficiency of area.

Nevertheless a below surface generator located deep enough below the shelf might not have any adverse affect for kayaking in the area at all. If warranted power from such a generator could be transmitted through underwater cables to the nearest road head miles south below Surge Narrows, then through lines located adjacent to the existing road. It might be that the generator may not be located below the shelf but further out in the channel. Without research date who knows.

Indeed it could be that, if feasible and I stress “IF”, such a power development might have a beneficial effect. As Okisollo becomes more popular facilities should be developed to protect the area. Apparently 1,500 people accessed the area this past season. That's a lot of people in an area that has no facilities at all. No designated camping, no toilets – nothing.

While many kayakers and recreational users know how to minimize their impact on the environment there are many others who do not and care nothing about what they leave behind or how they leave the area.

Road improvements could also bring more kayakers to the area. That might be good or bad.

In any case this initiative bares careful watching. It will be interesting to see what the research turns up if the application is granted. What is certain is the inevitable quest for electrical power, the increasing demand for more environmental power sources and the desire to protect existing recreational areas will bring us into conflict. Mitigating the impact and striking a balance between conflicting needs should be our goal. As for Okisollo it maybe that it's not suitable for electrical generation at all. Time, research and knowledge will tell.

Military Hardware!

2008-11-22T18:59:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like an explosive device to ruin a good days paddle. Saturday Mark, Craig and I launched from the Oak Bay Marina on the east side of Victoria for a day paddle down and around Trial Island. We'd hoped to maybe catch the tail end of one of the lows that have been blowing through the last week.

Alas when we arrived the inner bay was like a mirror and while the Yaughters where all a flutter over the 5 knot wind we left the shore with a feeling of disappointment.

Our trip south was uneventful. I scraped some more Gel coat from the hull looked for golf balls in the shallows off the golf course but found none. I like to roll and retrieve the balls from the sea floor then pop back up and throw them up onto the fairway.

Just as we approached McNeil Bay Mark and I discovered something floating in the water. Paddling over we found a 24"X5" cylinder with something like the following warning.

"Danger may explode. Extremely corrosive! Notify the Military or Police if discovered."

Of course we'd picked it up before discovering the warnings. So in the spirit of civic duty Mark pulled out his cell phone and called 911. Eventually the 911 operator passed us on to the Military Dive team who said they'd be there in 30 minutes. Except they didn't know where McNeil Bay was and didn't seem to know where Beach Drive was. A half hour later we get a return call asking us to describe what we had found and telling us not to keep it on our decks but to take it to shore.

With the device stashed we paddled circles around the bay taking phone calls from the navy. Naively we thought either the coast guard auxiliary or a police officer would simply come by and collect the damn thing. Well Jimmy we live in a more complicated world.

Eventually we got so cold from paddling nowhere that we came back to the beach for a lite lunch. Bring out food and sure enough the military arrives. Turns out the device was a smoke marker that ignites on contact with salt water. These things are usually dropped by sub hunting aircraft like the Aurora or from helicopters.

There's some Phosphorus inside the device and if exposed to air it'll burst into flames. Which can only be extinguished with foam. Gee, no wonder they don't list the contents on the canister. Someone might get hurt.

The Diver said we should have just tossed it up on shore. We were going to do that but were afraid it might bounce off one of the kids playing amongst the rocks. As an alternative I suggested we shove it up the tail pipe of a Volvo parked along the road.

Next time we'll take a GPS reading call it in with an foreign accent. A Texas drawl should work fine and just paddle off. "This is Jimmy Jim Jim Bob, u all. Dares un uh dem IED's floatin in da water rite down by da shure. Say how d ya spell IED?" With apologies to my Texas cousin/sister.With the device safely secured, by wrapping it with duct tape, we having known we'd done our civic duty, however small, and with hearts glowing with the thoughts that we'd done our bit to protect our homes, children and mostly our women folk, left for the return trip to the put in.

Kinmel 1919

2008-11-17T22:27:00.000-08:00

If you should ever find yourself travelling along the A55 in North Wales there's a small village, Bodelwyddan, just off the motorway. The village is recognizable by the tall white church and steeple. Next to the church is a grave yard. Eighty five of the graves are those of Canadian Service men and women who died at Camp Kinmel in 1919; long after the great war had ended. I discovered this remarkable place where else but in a Welsh pub. My host was regaling me with the conflicting histories and myths surrounding this cemetery.
Many local Welshmen believe that the Canadians died during a riot at the hands of British MP's sent to quell the riot. Some people believe many of the soldiers where lined up and shot by British firing squads.
My friend Peter told me of accounts he had heard from aging seniors who could remember their parents and grandparents telling them how the Liverpool MP's shot the Canadians.
Tonight in Victoria the fog has rolled in off the sea. It's drifted down the streets and lanes obscuring the reality that's just outside my window much the same way that time, fear, and a misplaced sense of propriety has blurred the truth of Kinmel.

Buried deep in the passage of time are the kernels that have given birth to some fascinating myths. An Internet search conducted in Great Britain turned up a treasure trove of arguments, points and counter points. Conspiracy theories abound.

Some believe the soldiers where being held in Kinmel because Canada didn't want them back. It was argued that unemployment was so great that Canadian politicians didn't want to make the situation worse by bringing home it's service men. Another account held forth that Canada was in fact expelling all "foreigners" from the country and that these men where mostly east European and were no longer welcome in Canada.

Anyone with a decent education in Canadian history would dismiss these accounts.

This much is certain. Troops where held at Kinmel awaiting transport back to Canada. Troop ships were in fact diverted to take others back. In fact recent recruits who saw no action were some of the first to return to a hero's welcome in Canada. Back in Kinmel veterans of four years of hell sat in the mud and cold waiting for boats that seemed would never come.

Conditions in the camp where not much better then those the soldiers had endured in France. Food was poor, there was little coal for stoves as there was a coal shortage due to a British coal miners strike, few blankets and rain soaked mud was everywhere. This whole area is only meters above sea level and catches all the foul weather blowing off the Irish Sea. Sitting through a winter here would have been difficult. To keep the men occupied the officers drilled them daily. Marching up and down relentlessly through the mud too no purpose began to have an unanticipated affect.

The quality and quantity of the food was also an issue. Some believe a lot of the food was being stolen by black marketeers. It was also certain that the men's patience was running dangerously short as they'd awaited months for transportation home. But the most significant factor at the camp was the affect of the world pandemic. Men were dying from influenza as were people all over the world. Most of those buried at Kinmel where felled by flue.

All of these factors are contributors to some of the myths surrounding Kinmel. But clearly what fired a lot of the tales was the initial Times account of what transpired on March 4th 1919. The Times portrayed the events as a Bolshevik riot organized by William Tarasevich a Russian/Canadian from Montreal.

Tarasevich with his east European name was clearly the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Times recounts how a red flag was waved as the men marched on the officers barracks. Clearly the Times was looking for a scape goat and the Bolsheviks revolution in Russia was readily at hand. Blaming the riots on these sinister characters neatly deflected any criticism from the military administration.

Perhaps it's the distance but the Canadian accounts lack the passion of what I turned up in north Wales. Official army records show that one man was shot and that by accident as the round came through a window and struck him as he sat at a table. Wisely the camp commander had secured most of the ammunition long before conditions reached the rioting stage.

Sadly four men were in fact bayoneted, by the MP's.

Despite the conflicting myths surrounding Kinmel the local Welsh population take great care in the local cemetery. Walking up and down the rows of white gravestones and reflecting on our current war effort in Afghanistan I couldn't help but wonder what myths will spring forth over the next 100 years.

SISKA VISTS RACE ROCKS

2008-10-25T19:02:00.000-07:00

Some of the more senior members of SISKA, that's senior in regards to experience and if truth be told age as well, headed out to pay a visit to old grumpy pants on Race Rocks; the sea lions not the keeper.

Members met at Pedder Bay just west of Victoria BC and after making our contributions to the Oak Bay Groups profit line (eight bucks per boat or $112 for the lot) our leader for the day, Dennis called us all together for the pre paddle pep talk.

"Argh, Don't be drown er I'll kills ya." Dennis is great at coming to the point. Somewhere in his discourse he conveyed the current speeds, time of the turn, wind and a brief weather report. "It's gona blow like el, ya swabs." And we were off into flat blue water with lots of bright morning light reflecting off the surface.

Dennis deployed captains fore and aft, port and starboard to make sure none of us strayed to far afield. With 14 paddlers that's easy to do.

Eventually we made our way out to the south end of Bentinck Island. This was the first critical point. With the current only an hour from it's max (3.9) we had to set up a careful ferry glide in order to hit the western tip of Race Rocks. The more prudent set up a range off the Olympic Mountains and with our bows heading almost south started the easterly ferry glide.

I've learned to be a lazy paddler. If I can get the water to do the work for me I will. It was nice to see lots of others doing the same thing. Still there was some who opted for a different tack.

After a low speed drift past the south side of the rocks we worked the back eddies up along the north side to the western end of the rocks then set up a long return ferry glide to Bentinck Island where we disembarked for lunch.

After lunch Dennis had a little rescue session planned for us. We got to have a real good look at the almost scratch less bottom of Dennis very fine Pygmy Arctic Tern. I even took a turn at rescuing one of the members who it turned out was homeless. All his possessions where stored in his cockpit. Imagine my surprise when I started pulling out all this gear. I dug down as far as a Czechoslovakian two stroke Tremblant but was afraid to go any further.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, the winds never came up, no one drowned and Dennis's inner pirate didn't kill anyone. We just quietly pulled back down the long gut into Pedder Bay and the marina. Afterward it was off for post paddle prater at the My Chosin Cafe watering hole were the accounts of storms and amazing near misses got bigger and bigger until there was a virtual gale blown inside the bar. Some one could have drown.

All of the above information has been fact checked by the S. Pallin Truth In Campaigning Corporation of Gnome Alaska.

SISKA On Rum!!

2008-09-16T16:11:00.000-07:00

Sunday September 14th: Twenty members and guest of the South Island Sea Kayak Association (SISKA) journeyed from Sidney to Rum Island – just short of the San Juan's.

I don't normally paddle with such large groups but after being bounced around the Irish Sea on my own I felt an urge to socialize. Two things stand out in my mind regarding Sundays trip.

First was the remarkable cohesion of the group, with the exception of myself everyone stayed together. Being the lazy paddler I am I opted to veer off to ferry glide across one of the current channels. I just could not help myself.

The other aspect of the trip was the speed. I didn't track the overall speed of the group but I know we were back an hour before the predicted return time and at least an hour and a half ahead of my guess.

These two things are significant. I have often been critical of club paddles that don't adhere to the basic tenant to stay together. It was good to see that; 'things', they are a changin.

Praise goes to Mike Jackson and Susan DuHammel the organizers for making this work.

I was also surprised by the depth of knowledge that people have of the Isle of Man. Two “young”, paddlers regaled me with their stories of visiting the Isle of Man to watch and ride the famous Motorcycle Time Trial course. As well as attending the races one use to visit the Isle to catch Tommy Dorsey and his big band at the opera house in Douglas, that's well over 60 years ago.

FREE AT LAST! FREE AT LAST!

2008-09-16T16:02:00.000-07:00

Good news came my way yesterday. My friend and urologist Dr. Iain McAuley gave me the news – there was nothing on the scope. This means that after a seven month battle I am now cancer free.

The flip side of the news is that there remains a one in four chance of the cancer coming back; that's if I do nothing. If I continue with the BCG treatments I can greatly reduce those odds.

The hard part will be completing the treatments. Only 18% ever see the treatments through to the very end. Of the 82% that don't complete the treatments many are forced to quit after developing the TB side affects associated with BCG. Others pack it in fed up with the invasive and not very pleasant experience.

I've signed up and will resume the treatments in October. I'll have to see how far I can make it down this road.

Apologies to my good friend Martin.

Reflections

2008-08-30T10:51:00.000-07:00

The Isle of Man is a remarkable island. The shoreline is varied and fascinating. Dotted with caves, colonies of birds, seals, beaches and charming towns all of which call out for exploration. It would be easy to spend an extended holiday here getting to know the secret places and wonderful people of the island.

If fortune should once again come my way and I should I be granted an opportunity to return to paddle this coast I'd start in Peel. Ideally I'd return with two or three companions and together we'd make our way to this port city on the west side of the island. At least a day would be given over to exploring the narrow streets, the history and the charm of the town.

Peel Castle sitting out there guarding the entrance to the town on St. Patrick's island is worthy of a days exploration.

From Peel I would head south to Port Erin. Along this coast I'd try to stay inshore to paddle the cIiffs that I had to pass by. Bradda Head would also come under closer scrutiny.

Already I feel a kinship with this town. It was here that I truly took control of my trip. Because of the weather I came ashore early and was able to spend at least a few hours getting to know the town. I'd look up the kayak shop owner Jenny and buy her lunch for the help and assistance she gave me. I'd also introduce my friends to the Grosvenor Hotel and it's friendly proprietors. Up town we could hop aboard the steam train for a ride. When we got back I'd look up the Manx Phone company and politely explain what I think of them.

Each town, Port Mary, Castletown, Douglas, Laxey and Ramsey would be on our itinerary to explore and discover. Just as important as the present habitats it would be grand to come ashore and examine any number of the forts that dot the Manx coast line. There is no doubt that Manx men where warriors, the proof is in the ruins of forts that lookout from almost every head land.

But of course we'd have to experience the ultimate Manx custom – racing down narrow lanes lined with stone walls in some car of uncertain quality and reliability. Just about any little old grandmother should be able to provide that experience as they all race home seemingly afraid the eggs will go bad or the milk will spoil if they don't get home as fast as possible.

Ultimately for a kayaker the attraction to the island is the Caff of Man and those headlands where tide races form. Here's where the devil may care thrill seeker in us would come to the fore. I'd show those Manx grannies a trick or two.

Mist in the Valley

2008-08-30T10:48:00.000-07:00

Yet another front has moved into the Conwy Valley. There's been almost no rain for the past two days but there has also been very little sunshine. Now a mist of fog and cloud has slipped down off the moors to fill the valley. Conwy is obscured behind a veil. Oddly there is no wind at all.

Hasn't the wind always blown up here, I cannot recall such quiet. Even the sheep in the pasture have gone to ground, their seemingly constant bleating has come to an end. I wonder if this is a foretelling of a coming storm.

The embers in the fire need attention, dry wood is running low and although there is plenty in the garden neatly stacked it needs to season and dry. No worry in five days I'll quit the cottage and head to Manchester. My kayak will have to be sorted out on Monday. I think a trip to Holyhead to plead for support will be required.

Up here I'm cut off. To connect I have to drive 20 minutes down the lane into Conwy. Yesterday the rental car was side swiped by a giant MB SUV. Any joy in driving is gone. No doubt there will be a deductable to pay when I return the car.

Once down I borrow time on a computer at the library. Check emails and try to connect with friends and family. After my time runs out I walk over to to “Coffi Conwy”, an internet coffee house, buy a cup of joe (white) and log on with my own lap top. I up load the notes and comments I've prepared the night before, then head back up the hill to the cottage, packing in whatever supplies I need.

If the time is right I try to make a call home from a phone box. this is usually frustrating as I frequently get answering machines, or if I do connect I rapidly run out of coins for the phone and get cut off in mid sentence. That's very annoying.

One bright ray of sunshine was the travel agent in Conwy. After exhausting my time trying to book a flight with the information the now defunct Zoom Airways was providing I walked into the local travel agent and with her help quickly had a flight home booked. I'm taking them coffee and cookies tomorrow to show my appreciation.

It means a drive down the lane, but it has to be done. The fire is almost out, got to attend to it.

News Flash Zoom Goes Belly Up

2008-08-29T05:44:00.000-07:00

This morning a gentleman from Scottish Power came by to examine the power line drop at the cottage. After he was finished he asked if I was from Canada? Then if I was flying Zoom.

Yeah, why, I replied. "You don't have radio or telly up here?" No I don't. It's pretty basic, why? "Then you have not heard?" says he. Heard what, I asked.

"Why Zoom suspended all flights and has gone into receivership, asn't she."

I broke out laughing and I'm sure by the look on his face he thought me mad. But, I could not help myself he sounded so much like my Dad parceling out the bad news, chewing over every morsel as if to extract every bit of flavour from it.

After quickly saying his good byes, surely he thought I'd been up here too long, I packed out a few things and headed down the hill.

Down in Conwy I set about solving this later problem. I booked a ticket home on a more solvent airline, or so I hope, called my wife, updated the cottage owners and started what will be along process of getting my kayak home - if at all.

As a consequence I will be returning to Victoria a week earlier. Plans to kayak around Wales have been suspended. My kayak was holed in a parking lot accident, has yet to be repaired and may not be until after I return.

Money is now running short as my budget for the last 12 days in country has just been consumed by a one way ticket home. I'll spend my time up at the cottage throwing myself into the reno work, cut back on the pub nights and take in some long walks. More later.

Thursday, August 21 – Isle of Man

2008-08-29T05:33:00.000-07:00

0235 High Water Liverpool, 0919 Low Water Liverpool,1453 HW Liverpool, 0603 LW Liverpool

Weather,
Light winds WNW, expected to increase in afternoon

Paddle Plan

- on water at 0800, 1st hour tide running SW 0.5 knots, straight across from Douglas to Clay Head approximately 3.5Nm, start 5hrs after HW Liverpool
- Clayhead - straight across to Skeirripp, – about 2Nm, stay offshore
- Skeirrripp to Maughold Head back inshore, should be out of wind and in weak opposing current
- Maughold Head to Shellag Point – winds NW, straight across Ramsey Bay, 4hrs before HW Liverpool
- Shellag Point to Point of Ayre inshore out of wind current at back
- rest one hour at Point of Ayre
- 1600 begin SW trip down to Jurby Head expect beam seas aft, NW winds freshening
Juby Head to the Cronk, 1Nm end time 1600 total distance about 57k or 29 Nm – 10 hours at 3 knotts

At the end of day three Jim and I went in search for a place for me to stay for the night which lead us to the Information desk at the ferry terminal.

Inside out of the wind I was no longer up wind of myself. I took a step back but to no avail. Still in paddling gear I was ripe. As a test to the legendary Manx hospitality the lady on the info desk said nothing and very quickly found me a room at the Berkley; 30 pounds. She was amazingly efficient.

Jim returned to the kayaks while I checked in and had a fast shower. Back at the kayaks we sat down and waited the return of the car. Upon the return of the bus riders I stored my kayak tucked in between some containers and left for a quiet evening walk back along the Douglas promenade.

From the second floor sitting room adjacent to my room I had a great view of the promenade and Douglas Bay. Out in the Bay perched on St. Mary's Rock is the Tower of Refuge.

As I sat watching the evening light play across the tower I imagined young men seeking refuge for some misdeed on this rock. It looks quaint, but I suspect it's sparse interior and the elements would quickly melt most men's resolve.

Easterly storms pound into the seawall along the promenade, out on St. Mary's rock I could envision desperate men throwing themselves from the castellated tower to escape their despair and the madness of those storms. My despair still lay before me manifested in one more mad rush to complete the trip around the island. I set about planning, then headed off to bed.

Morning came and true to form my chariot ride was waiting for me at the door. The evening before I had met a couple who had come in off the ferry to kayak the island. When they learned I was from Vancouver Island they broke into huge smiles and spilled out their account of living in Tofino for a year. They then volunteered to meet me in the morning to help me launch off the slipway.

The detailed plan I'd worked out the night before however came apart as I missed the launch start by half an hour. I'd chase that time and never catch it all through the rest of the day.

For once I launched into flat water and with the harbour masters green light to cross the entrance I headed NW. Once past Douglas Bay the coast steepens up again and there are few pull outs for kayaks except at the seaside towns.

Laxey and Ramsey like Douglas' waterfront consist of stately old Victorian walk ups that show off their finest in the early morning sunlight. This same light brings life to the moors high above the towns. The greens are sharper, richer and more vivid then anything I've seen since leaving the cottage up above Conwy in Wales.

Although the interior roads are lined with gnarly old oaks and elms from the shore the entire island looks bald. Stone walls cut back and forth, with no rhyme or rhythm, to create a patch work of fields cropped short by the ever present sheep.

Coming from Vancouver Island where towering giant trees are in abundance not having any trees around seems strange. Yet days ago I cut a dozen trees out of my sister in laws garden to open it up to the sun and to open up the view. I found myself paddling along wondering if I'd done the right thing. Life takes strange twists.

And then perhaps the most whimsical moment of the entire trip occurred. I heard a steam train whistle and high above me climbing across an open meadow was what looked like Thomas the Steam Engine. I stopped paddling and watched the little guy and his string of cars until he disappeared around a curve in the track.

Manx men are nuts about trains. I think they have one of every type and one of every gage. The other thing the are crazy about is motorcycles. Occasionally the morning quiet would be punctuated by the roaring wine of a high performance bike working it's way up through the gears.

This was the weekend of the Manx Gran Prix and a good portion of the island roads would be closed for the running of the race. Yet if not for these odd bursts of sound and the old guys in leathers on all sorts of conveyances, from flimsy vintage motorized bicycles, to super modern and powerful death dealing monsters, I was barely aware of the event.

Later I'd learn that the racing gods had taken another life. The Manx population seem fatalistic about this, some hold the life given is an almost natural right of passage. It smooths the road for the survivors. I think of the parents, families and friends. Their road will be anything but smooth.

I suppose this is what happens when the weather is fine, the sea kind and the tide and current is at your back – you spend too much time thinking and not enough time focused on the task. My speed has dropped, I'm loosing ground to my plan and I still have miles to go.

Finally I make Maughold Head and turn the corner into Ramsey Bay. The wind is now right into my teeth and the sea has turned to a short choppy 12 inch to 18 inch waves for my entertainment. I look for a place to rest and put on my jacket.

For the past two to three hours I have been paddling in a short sleeve Kokatat rash shirt, but it's time to suit up as there is a chill in the wind. I put in at Stack Mooar. The tide is rising and I have to keep pulling the boat out while I fix a quick lunch of flat bread, honey and peanut butter.

I launch and start what will turn into a two hour crossing. The waves are just big enough to break over the bow and wash back to the forward hatch. At first I'm happy not to be in another beam sea but I soon tire of the head wind.

Eventually I make Shellag Point 4Nm to the northwest. It's now three hours before HW Liverpool and as predicted in the sailing guide there is a NW flowing back eddy. My speed picks up and I'm gliding along at an average of 4.5 knots for the run up to the Point of Ayre ; the extreme northern tip of the island. I make the point just at HW Liverpool (1453).

Just off shore there is a monster tide race forming. The waves are stacking up into great piles, one after another they stretch out for about a mile to the northeast. With a couple of trusted paddlers I would head out to play in the chaos, but I'm alone and off schedule.

I slip by, once again tight inshore, and make my way around the head land to the shouted encouragement of who else but Jim. He seems to be everywhere. I make a fast landing onto the dumbing shore share a quick word of encouragement with Jim and Kirstine but forgo the hour rest I'd planned.

Just as I push off Jim shouts out what I think is, “19 kilometers to go”. I quickly do the conversion and it's 8 Nm. Odd I thought it was only 4Nm. I recheck the map. He's right it's still 8 Nm away to the start point. My heart sinks. How could I have miscounted the distance.

I put the disappointment behind and put my head down. The tide will be against me for the first hour, the winds are on my aft starboard quarter and the waves are relentless. I paddle along like this for an hour then I pick up the southwest flowing tide stream. Nevertheless the progress is slow.

For the first time the Ordinance Survey map lets me down. It does not show Rue Point, or Blue Point either so that each time I pass these points I think I have rounded Jurby Head and have only a mile or so left. It's soul destroying. On top of that I'm running out of energy. My squeeze bottle of honey has gone overboard swept away by a wave. Luckily Jim and Kirstine have pulled into an over look to watch out for me.

As Jim goes to get chocolate Kirstine feeds me cheese and nuts followed by the chocolate the sudden calorie intake almost makes me sick as my blood sugar levels spike. I go for a short walk and feeling better climb back into the boat.

In geological terms the north end of the island is minutes old. It's a large sand and gravel bar that dried out only 5,000 years ago and attached itself to the much older main island. It's seemingly featureless. In close to shore you cannot see beyond the beach two to three meters above your head.

But it is home to lots of birds. One of those birds or rather a small flock of them returned to lift my spirits. Earlier in the day I had been startled by a sudden white flash that plummeted straight down into the sea just in front of the kayak. Moments later a white bird surfaced and lifted off. It was an Arctic Tern feeding on sand eels.

I felt a kinship with this bird from high up in the Canadian Arctic that was now just off my bow feeding. Now they were back and my spirit soared. These beautiful birds where well into their own journey or migration that will take them from the Arctic to Antarctica. And I was down because I had a few more miles to go. Suddenly I felt chastised. What a wimp.

As I pressed on I started side surfing the waves to pick up speed and distance. I knew I was tiring by my posture, I was beginning to slump, my cadence was dropping and my high paddle stroke was dropping. Then I started side surfing breaking waves at these false head lands.

But I gave this up as it was not worth the risk. These waves where breaking on a shelving beach that most likely was littered with underwater rocks that my Ordinance Map did not depict. I moved back off shore.

Yet I kept miss reading the chart thinking this has to be Jurby Head- it wasn't. Then I was convinced that the GPS had been possessed by a sea witch who was playing games with it and me. I sorted it all out by turning the chart over and ignoring the GPS. I simply started looking for the view of the beach I had fixed in my mind when I launched.

Eventually I spotted Jim waving a yellow gag over his head. Strangely he kept walking away from me. He'd explain later that he wanted to make sure I did not finish 10 yards short of the launch site. I just looked at him like he was mad.

Just off shore I pulled out my VHF and made the following call.

“Liverpool Coast Guard, Liverpool Coast Guard, this is the sea kayaker Gulf Whiskey over.”
Gulf Whiskey this is Liverpool Coast Guard, go to channel 86 that's eight six over. “Going to eight six Gulf Whiskey out.”

“Liverpool CG this is GW do you read me, over.” Go ahead Gulf Whiskey “Liverpool CG I am 500 meters off the beach and have completed my circumnavigation of the Isle of Man. This is my finial report, thank you for your assistance and service.”
Thank you Gulf Whiskey Liverpool CG out.

“Liverpool coast Guard, one last thing, you and your colleagues have just helped raise almost $6,000 for the Canadian Cancer Society thank you for your help. Gulf Whiskey out.”

Eh. r anks, ad ta elp ooout. Bloody! Liverpool oast ard out.

I shut down, surfed in and fell out of the boat 13 hours after starting.

Day 3 – August 20th – Isle of Man Circumnavigation

2008-08-27T07:42:00.000-07:00

0200 High Water Liverpool 9.6 metre tide
0845 Low Water Liverpool 0.8 metre tide
1418 HW Liverpool 9.2 metre tide
2055 LW Liverpool 1.1 metre tide

Weather forecast Winds WSW 4-5 Seas 4-5, some white horses

With this information and the info from the Sailing Directions and Tidal streams you can calculate the speed and direction of the tide flows around the Isle of Man for 6 hours before and 6 hours after High Water Liverpool.

On Wednesday August 20th if I could reach Caff Sound which separates the Caff from the main island 5 hours after HW I would find a 1.5 flood tide running with me. The tide would carry me straight through the sound before any over fall's or tide races formed.

Just as importantly, in the 5th and 6th hours after HW, I would be able to take advantage of an inshore back eddy that would take me past Spanish Head and Langness Point two headlands with potentially dangerous tide races.

All I had to do was cover the 1.5 Nm to the Sound and slip through at 0745. Although my room faced away from the sea and the prevailing westerly winds I was growing concerned that I might have more then force 4 or 5 winds.The window panes were rattling.

As I stepped out of the hotel and looked down at the promenade the flags along the wall looked as if they had been starched. They stood straight out. They'd make a snapping sound; a counter refrain to the base coming from the surf pounding the sand further beyond the sea wall. Out to sea were line after line of white sea horses or white caps.

My heart sank. There would be no relaxing paddle down to the Sound. But first I had to deal with the carry to the waters edge. Two regular large tides every day brings both a curse and a blessing. The blessing is the ultimate perfect predictions of the tides, the curse is the carry to the water during low tides.

I decided to hell with it and picked up the loaded boat, perhaps 130 pounds and balancing across my thighs started walking down to the water line. I sopped twice and finally dragged the kayak the last 20 feet into the surf wash – caught my breath and climbed in. It was 0650, the winds were blowing an estimated 25 to 30 knots, once out of the harbour the wind and waves were on my starboard beam. I had 1.5 Nm to cover. It was time to dig in.

Half way down to the Caff I was passed by two trawlers off on my starboard side about five hundred meters away. As they pitched down the waves into the trough mountains of spray would burst from the bow. Then they'd wallow up the back side of the next wave, reach the crest and roll as the wind hit the full length of the exposed hull.

I pitied the crew and hoped they were all seasoned otherwise I was sure there would be green faces aboard. I gave them a wave but passed on hailing them on the VHF. I didn't want to risk pulling out the VHF just to listen to a couple of fishermen admonishing another crazy in a kayak.

This part of the coast is quite steep and on any other occasion would warrant lots of exploration, but under the present circumstances I just pressed on.

My planning worked out quite well, as I slipped into the of the Caff the wind died and I was able to slide through the Sound between Kitterland rock and the main island. These were the first flat seas I'd paddled in.

I took advantage of the calm to make adjustments, call Liverpool Coast Guard, and take a long hit of water and honey. I had strapped a plastic squeeze jar of honey to the deck as sort of a poor man's energy drink. It seemed to work fine. Upon leaving the sound I took one look back at the seal colony I had disturbed when I was coming through and was surprised to see the tide race was already beginning to form.

I turned away and headed for the next obstacle – Spanish Head. As I paddled east I soon left the lee of the Caff of Man but this time the SW wind was on my aft quarter and the current or tide, all be it weak, was flowing in the same direction as I was traveling.

At Spanish Head the tide Race had already formed but it was not yet large enough to cause any undue concern. I pulled straight through the over fall's that had brought at least one ship of the Spanish Armada to it's end.

By setting up a ferry glide I was making a comfortable 5 knots. With these favourable conditions I decided to forgo going inshore to explore Port St. Mary. I set my course to cross Bay ny Carrickey and Castletown Bay and headed straight for the next head land Langness Point 5 Nm away.

My plan to deal with Langness; was to sneak through on the inside as close to the head land as possible. Because of the distance I had to cover and the conditions on the SW coast I knew there would be no way to avoid the tide race of this point. I think I arrived sometime between 5 hours before and 4 hours before HW Liverpool.

Right at the critical part of the point I was hit by an oversize wave, luckily I was able to make the right adjustments ( a low brace and edged into the wave) and use the wave to surf me through a good piece of the tide race. Later while Looking at the map I spotted an off shore rock that I must have missed before. The wave that first caught then carried me on around must have washed over that rock.

As I reached the end of Langness Point I turned the bow NE and headed up the opposite side of the Isle. It felt great as half the Isle was now behind me. According to the map St. Michael's Island looked like the first place I'd be able to land. Even though the back eddy was against me I choose to stay inshore looking for a place to pull out.

I reached St. Michael's Island after 3 hours and 50 minutes in the boat. The island is connected to the main island by a causeway and that is were I pulled the boat out and stepped out.

There is a beautiful old abandon chapel on St. Michael island just above where I had landed. If I had known it was a destination for retired clergymen and history buffs I'd landed some where else, anywhere else as all I wanted was to relieve myself.

However pouring down from the chapel came a gaggle of old men, a couple of kids and protective grandmothers, calling out to all to be careful. If they had known what I was about to do they would have called out, “Oh my don't look over there, you kids come back here right now.”

These sort of things happen to kayakers all around the world. In Sidney BC I am convinced there is a net work of grannies who have set up a spotting service. They sit by their windows waiting and when they see you returning to a launch site they get on the phone to let their friends know.

“Mildred those kayakers in the tight rubber pants have come back, if we hurry we can get down to the parking lot and catch them with there pants down. Come on Mildred we don't want to miss out on the show.”

Refueled on soup and hot chocolate I was soon back on the water. As the next 3.5 Nm crept by it felt as though I was paddling through glue. Straight across to Santon Head, then on to Pistol Castle, Gob Lhiack, Little Ness until finally I pulled around the corner and made for Port Soderick. There was a beach on the bay here and I was ready for another break.

As I approached three kayakers where preparing to launch. It was Jim,Kirstine and Duncan. As we sat in the boats exchanging greetings and info on the sea state they decided to change plans and head NE with the wind and tide to Douglas.

Off they shot, full of energy and enthusiasm. I plodded along a 100 meters behind, drained, tired, and hating their seemingly perfect form and ease of boat handling. My form was gone. In fact I knew from experience that I should not be on the water. My body was screaming go ashore. Except now there was no where to land.

Just before leaving Port Soderick we came across the group of paddlers who had abandoned Port Erin the day before they were heading south having launched on the NE calm shore and paddled down the isle. The bad news was they had been run off the camp spot at Sea Lion Cove and told no one was allowed to camp there. That was my end destination for the day.

Bad news. The thing about misfortune is it does not like to travel alone. Shortly after entering Douglas harbour and on perfectly flat water Jim's very expensive camera slipped from the deck and into the deeps.

All the photos he'd shot for an up coming guide book, plus the pictures he'd documented of my circumnavigation, now lay at the bottom of Douglas harbour. To his credit Jim took it well.
We offered to hire a diver in the hope that the memory card might be salvageable but Jim declined. He was already moving on. Pulling out a waterproof Olympus he just continued shooting photos.

It was a lesson I observed and would be able to reflect on and draw from in a few days time when misfortune would pay a return visit.

After discussing the options with my unofficial support team I decided to get a room and bunk down for the night in Douglas. This would give me a chance to rest and recover for what would be a long fourth day. I'd paddled 14 Nm through some difficult seas and day three was over.

Day 2 - Around the Isle of Man - August 19

2008-08-27T07:39:00.000-07:00

In close against the cliffs on my little shelf of land I was completely out of touch with Liverpool Coast Guard. During the previous day I'd contact Liverpool on my VHF, identified myself as the sea kayaker Gulf Whiskey and stated my intention to circumnavigate the island solo. They requested that I check in hourly which I agreed to.

Unknowingly I'd committed myself to a lot of extra paddling as the only way I could consistently reach Liverpool was to paddle anywhere up to a mile off shore. Reception was totally dependent on the topography between me and Liverpool. When ever the shore steepened up the signal would disappear.

A mile off shore was much further out then I wanted to paddle. It also put me out into the full force of the southwest winds. That night after making the beach landing I was not able to raise Liverpool nor was I able to get the mornings weather forecast.

On Tuesday August 19 I awoke and looked out into what where likely force 4, to 5 winds and force 5 seas. Consequently I decided to head straight south to Port Erin 4.5 Nm down coast. I'd call in from Port Erin where I hoped to get a detailed weather forecast.

Kerrion had encouraged me to launch up on the NW coast, rationalizing that this would put me somewhere around Port Erin where I could hook up with a group that his company was leading around the Island.

I suspected upon waking that the group would not be leaving from Port Erin due to the sea state. I also dragged out departing to ensure that I'd arrive after their scheduled departure as I did not want to travel within a large escorted group. As it was the group left from the NE end of the island to avoid the weather. I could have started earlier.

Once under way the conditions became just part of the paddling rhythm. On occasion I'd use a low brace as an outsize wave would wash over me and the boat. Still it was slow going. There was only one place to land, Fleschwick Bay and in the rain and gloom I miss read it's location.

I was far enough out to see both the Caff of Man and Chicken Rock, a spire that looms out of the sea south of the Caff. Unfortunately I was misinterpreting both as a head land further north. At this point I was seriously misreading the map. I was calculating that Point Erin must be just inside what I thought was a bay. Turns out I was actually looking at Caff Sound.

As soon as I rounded Bradda Head my error became obvious. Port Erin was immediately to my right tucked in at the end of Port Erin Bay. Due to the conditions, wind, waves and contrary tide it had taken me three hours to cover just 4.5 Nm.

Even getting into Port Erin was a struggle as the current was now fully against me. When I landed I dragged the kayak well up the beach to within a short walk to the Cosy Nook Cafe and walked over for a coffee. I had pretty much made up my mind that this would be as far as I would go.

After a coffee I walked down the promenade to the red call box (phone booth). I checked for broken windows and the smell of urine before stepping in; i'd been warned about the alternative use for call boxes. For 30 pence I was able to leave a short message on Kerrion's answering machine. Unfortunately the phone then stopped taking coins.

Calling the operator I discovered that all the pay phones on the Isle of Man were programmed to accept pay phone calling cards only. So off I went in search of a calling card as I needed to contact Liverpool Coast Guard, the weather office and to confirm Kerrion had received my message.

I walked into a dockside book store where I was able to pick up a neat little tide table and the sailing directions for the Isle. Together these documents really enabled me to take control of the planning of the circumnavigation. Until this point I'd been following the advice of well intentioned volunteers. But from this point on I felt much more comfortable in my own planning and decision making. I was the person interpreting the tides, checking the weather and selecting my course and paddling times.

I still needed the phone card, mostly for a weather update. stepping out of the book store I looked across the street and there before me was a kayak shop. I walked in and asked if they had the weather forecast for Tuesday afternoon. Jenny the owner was great, she printed a copy of the afternoon and following 24 hour forecast from the computer.

As I read it over and explained what I was doing a look of concern came over her face. I assured her I was not going any further for the day as the forecast was for the winds to pick up and the sea conditions to worsen but to improve the following morning.

Jenny volunteered to let me store the kayak in her compound at the end of the beach right next to the Cozy Nook. With the boat stored I changed into street clothes I went off to explore and find the elusive phone cards.

Up town I soon discovered that my three leads, the Co Op, the newsstand, and the Post Office all carried cards but not the type I needed. No one knew who would have them. I decided to change tacks, I stopped worrying about Liverpool coast Guard and set out to explore.

Although I arrived by sea I soon discovered a great number of people come to Port Erin by steam train. This is the southern terminus for the steam rail line on the Isle. The station also houses a rail museum. After poking about I wandered back down to the sea wall. Turning a corner, there in the window of a small coffee house was a perfectly restored Vincent Black Shadow motorcycle.

To a motorcycle enthusiast, who came of age reading Hunter S Thompson this was the holy grail of motorcycles. The Black Shadow was capable of speeds well in access of 100 miles per hour, contained sophisticated engineering that was years ahead of its time and most significantly the company had gone bankrupt in 1952. Yet here before me was the legendary bike.

Turns out this is the home of the Vincent Motorcycle Owners Club. Meetings are held every week. I was amazed.

Further down the beach at the Cozy Nook another group of motorcycle enthusiasts had taken over the cafe. I wanted the place to close as I wanted to pitch my tent in the adjoining compound where the kayak as tucked away.

The laughter and good times seemed likely to carry on for some time so I headed back up the hill with the hope of finding a hotel with a pay phone that would take either my credit card or coins. Directly up from the beach I walked into the Grovner an explained what I was doing.

They had a phone I could use however when she asked me were I was staying for the evening I didn't want to tell her I was going to camp down at one end of the beach. I suspected that this might be illegal. So I told her I did not know.

Stay here, we have one single room left and I'll let you have it for 38 pounds. I thought for a Nano second, hot shower, a warm room in which to plan the following days paddles, it was no contest - I checked in.

Turned out to be a wise move as the rain fell with a vengeance that night. It also gave me the time to carefully work out the detailed plan of how to tackle the Caff of Man and the southern section of the island.

When I spoke to people around Port Erin and explained what I was doing, the overwhelming response was concern, “stay in close to the right side of Kitterland as you go through,” or, be careful at Spanish Head,” “Langness Point can get very rough.”

All the advice was sincere. Yet each person could not help but convey with a look, a raised eyebrow, or a catch in their breath that I must be mad. The sole exception was the kayak store owner Jenny who understood everything.

By early evening, my phone calls made, including a far to short call home to my son, saw me safely squirreled away with my ordinance map, my tide tables, and the sailing directions. Soon I had laid out my plan that would take me around the difficult south part of the island and onto Douglas and eventually to Sea Lion Cove my next camp site. Day two was over.

South bound from The Cronk!

2008-08-24T05:47:00.000-07:00

August 18 and my planning has come undone. I have discovered that I have left out at least one bag from my kit, where it can be I cannot imagine, but it contains my pump. Luckily Kerrion has loaned me a spare along with his personal four piece Lendle paddle that he used to paddle around Vancouver Island. It never leaves my deck for the next four days. The Werner just feels right.

The wonderful short paddling jacket provided by Kokatat never makes it out of Jim's car. It's just too darn cold. But once again Kerrion is there to provide a long sleeve Kokatat with a hood. This turns out to be one of the pleasant discoveries of the trip. The hood is perfect for keeping most of the rain at bay but more importantly it really helps to keep the paddler warm and comfortable.

Still my rush to start undoes me yet again. I've left the loaned pump in Jim's car with my jacket. I decide to push on rationalizing that I can get a pump or bucket or something off the beach or in Peel the first town south.

Jim Krawiecki had driven me a break neck speed up to the northwest coast to a corner called, “The Cronk.” From there my plan was to head south as far as I could go toward two possible camping sites, the first at Niarbly Bay or the second 2.5 Nm down the coast at Fleshwick Bay.

At the outset it was raining and continued to rain almost the entire time I was paddling. The weather or wind was out of the west hitting me abeam. It was sullen a perfect reflection of my mood. What was I doing out here on the Irish Sea in this cold and awful weather. I was trapped I'd said I would do this and I had feared the conditions would make it miserable, my hope was for warm sunny weather but my fears had been manifested now there was nothing to do but put my head down and paddle when all I wanted was to be home wrapped in my wife's arms.

Heading south the west coast of the island consists of sand beaches separated by rocky cliffs until eventually the sand beaches give way to the higher uplands and constant cliffs. However for about the first 5 nautical miles the shore is a sandy beach. Beyond the shore the land shelves up. It's here that you can see all manner of homes, some small, some new, and some very large and very old, such as the Bishops Court Estate.

Just south of the Gob ny Creggan Glassey the cliffs start in earnest. In Gaelic Gob means spit, ny means north, so this translates into Creggan Glassey's north Spit. I think.

From here south there are lots of caves and frequent waterfalls. I only took time to explore one cave that had a double entrance. With so little time I had to pass on playing consequently I passed by countless rock gardens and spaces where I would normally spend the better part of the day scrapping gel-coat from the bottom of my boat. Very out of character for me. There was another reason for passing these areas and this I like to think was in character. Being alone I could not afford to make an error fooling around in these high risk areas.

I started to grind it out and after three hours I arrived in Peel 6.5 Nm south through driving rain and rolling seas. As you approach your awareness is torn between the 11th Century Castle sitting on St Patrick's island and the town's beach and promenade. Both are stunning. Peel is also the home of the world famous Manx Kippers. If you've not enjoyed these think of smoked salt.

As I pulled up on the beach there were two other kayakers and I was greeted on the beach by this woman who called out to me by name! Immediately I thought this could be trouble. I tried out a few first names, none fit. Finally in her polite English manner she reminded me we'd met last night or was it this morning - she was Jim's partner.

Moments later Jim arrived and upon learning I'd forgotten a pump ran back up into town to buy me a sponge while Christine fetched me a pump. These people were so enthusiastic, even overwhelming.

A bit abut Jim K He's the co author of the Welsh Sea Kayaking guide from Pesda Press. It's a great guide and I highly recommend it – even if you are not planning to paddle this area, it is a worth while read. Jim is also a great photographer and was busy documenting my trip around. He just kept shooting photos.

Turns out I needed the sponge as the day hatch was mysteriously full of water.

Approaching from the north Peel looked charming. But again there was no time to explore, my camp site was still about 5 Nm down shore and it was getting late in the day. As I continued south the rain would come and go but if anything the sea state seemed to be getting worse.

When I arrived at Niarbyl Bay I found a ten foot beach guarded by rocks to either side with further rocks laying just off the shore break necessitating a crooked s approach. Easy enough on flat water a bit more tricky in surf. Presently the breach was being pounded by consistent 4 to 6 foot waves.

I spent a great deal of time sorting out the wave pattern giving up day light for a smooth landing seemed the right choice. Eventually I slide in on a smaller wave and surfed the boat into the stream bed that was washing down from the hills above.

With the boat beached I began the laborious unloading and carry up past the high water mark. As soon as the tent came out the rain came back. Every thing seemed to get wet. Sometime during the night the rain gave out to intermittent showers unfortunately the wind seemed to be building. By morning the wind was out of the SW and the waves pounding the beach were rather disquieting.

I broke camp slowly hoping for better weather. Finally I launched into what I suspect were moderate seas. I passed on my helmet has sometime during the night it had become home to a snail which had left a nice slime trial across the inner lining. Day two was about to begin.