Time Well Wasted
by Dan Lewis, Tofino
While I was in Japan last fall, my longtime friend, Takehiro Shibata,
organised a fundraiser for us through his kayak company, AlgaForest.
It was great to get out of Tokyo for a day and go paddling.
Twenty-five people showed up! Typically we limit group size to ten
or twelve people with two leaders, so a little bell went off. But we
weren’t going far, conditions were light, and most in the group
were experienced paddlers—only two were beginners.
Off we went. Ken, an experienced leader, was our guide. I tend to
worry more about the folks who can’t keep up than the speed freaks
up front, so I dallied at the back, offering tips in my broken Japanese
to the newcomers. At one point we grouped up to wait while several
people landed. One man was feeling seasick and opted to park his kayak
and walk on to our planned picnic site.
Shortly thereafter, I noticed that someone had capsized up front.
I paddled up and kept an eye on the rescue, even though the situation
was clearly under control, with plenty of competent paddlers already
on the scene. The kayak did not have neoprene hatch covers, so the
compartments were swamped, and the boat was beginning to sink. They
had removed the fiberglass hatch covers, and were about to lift the
bow to dump the water out. I knew this would completely fill the stern,
which would then sink, causing a Cleopatra’s needle scenario
(one end submerged). Over the years I have done a lot of training and
practice of what are basically some pretty stupid scenarios—stuff
that you know you will never, ever have to do in real life, but which
you are just supposed to practice so you’re ready for anything.
On this day, I was glad I had. I decided to intervene before things
got out of hand. The rescue I had to perform is called “The Curl”.
Basically, when a kayak is completely swamped, you simply cannot lift
it to dump the water out. What you have to do is turn the kayak on
its edge, and slowly lift it as the water drains out. The trick is
to keep the kayak level as you lift.
Unfortunately, at the end of my Curl, the boat still had a fair bit
of water in it. It seemed the only quick way we could finish emptying
it would be a “HI Rescue”. This is an old-school rescue
that is often dismissed as being totally impractical in a real life
setting. However, thank goodness I had wasted several hours of my paddling
career practicing the HI Rescue in varied conditions. (When I started
paddling, all we had were the old-school rescues!) Take and I laid
our paddles across the decks of our kayaks, right behind the cockpits.
Our two kayaks and the paddles formed an “H”. We then pulled
the swamped boat upside down up over our paddles (the third kayak is
the “I”). We then rocked it back and forth, as in a canoe-overcanoe
rescue, draining both the cockpit and the fore and aft compartments.
We didn’t have much further to paddle, so I decided to wait until
after lunch to improvise hatch covers to keep the water out, using
plastic bags and some pirated deck bungies. We put the hard covers
back in place for appearances, knowing full well they would not prevent
the boat from sinking were the paddler to capsize again. A couple of
people volunteered to tow the kayak back to the victim, who was perched
on a boulder about 200 feet from shore. Again, I tagged along, some
sort of mother hen complex stemming from (or maybe the cause of!) many
years of leading. I asked Take to send a competent paddler with me
who spoke a bit of English, just in case. The rest of the group carried
on toward our picnic destination. By the time we caught up to the boat
under tow, they had the victim swimming towards shore so he could get
back in the kayak. I quickly took charge, grabbed the cockpit of the
towed kayak, and had the swimmer do a deepwater re-entry, the standard
finale of any rescue. The towers then took off. It turned out they
were not even part of our group! Meanwhile, our shoreline hiker had
reached a section of cliffs, and was not sure what to do. I asked my
assistant to keep an eye on the recent swimmer, and headed for shore.
It quickly became apparent that the hiker was going to need an assist
to get past the cliffs. So, I looked in my quiver of rescues, and found
another one of those stupid skills that I had practiced over and over.
In this case I used a stern carry.
Here, the swimmer climbs onto the back deck of the rescuer’s
kayak, keeping his weight low as you taxi him about. This was all communicated
to our disbelieving hiker, who realised it was this, or swim, or miss
lunch. I deposited him back on shore beyond the cliffs, and turned
my attention back to the capsize victim—who was nowhere to be
seen. When I asked my assistant what had happened, he told me he didn’t
know either. We took off to catch up with our group and found them
waiting around the corner. I asked Take where the capsize victim was
and we eventually determined he wasn’t part of our group either!
I had been meaning to ask Take about why he had failed to check the
hatch-covers of every kayak, a standard pre-departure procedure that
eliminates most of the craziness we had just endured. He laughed and
said that he would never forget to do that, as I had always been so
adamant about that. So, in just one day I had to use three rescue techniques
which I had practiced countless times, but never actually needed before
in twenty-five years of paddling. It reminded me that unexpected things
happen, whether you are ready for them or not. You might even encounter
other paddlers who are in dire straits. Practice as many rescue and
towing techniques as you can, and be ready to adapt to the myriad of
situations in which you might one day find yourself.
Tofino Kayaking
Articles
Dan Lewis and Bonny Glambeck operate Rainforest Kayak Adventures,
a sea kayak company in Tofino and Clayoquot Sound. Visit their website
at www.rainforestkayak.com.
Tofino Kayaking
Articles
Tofino sea kayak expert Dan Lewis writes about an experience while kayaking in Tokyo in this article from Tofino Time magazine.
Tofino sea kayak expert Dan Lewis writes about an experience while kayaking in Tokyo in this article from Tofino Time magazine.