Kayaking & Wet Exits

Friday, 10/2
The day is fairly pleasant considering the forecasts and previous days. Wind is lower than yesterday; clouds with glimpses of sun that warms us briefly, low 60s.

Got to the launch about 9:40a.m. and since Jen drives from Worcester, she was waiting for us. More kayaking, stroke review, new strokes added, as well as tow options. Out for about 45 minutes and Beth asked me to switch kayaks with George. His didn't fit him at all. We switch and Beth asks how I like it. She said with a small smile, "It'll push you a little." Great.

Lunch and a switch to the tandem with Ian, a big guy, early 20s, all about classic rock, a former pitcher with red hair that hides most of his eyes until he pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head. He surprised me on the canoe trip with his ability to get lost in finding and identifying edible plants and trees but he has sat for years at the knee of his uncle and former OLPer who owns Adventure In Adventure Out. Ian gave me a shoulder massage on the canoe trip and loves dry humor. A paddle powerhouse, he is knowledgeable about Barton Cove and points out birds including the bald eagle flying overhead. We tour out past the island and Beth has us practice in-line and V-line towing though when I said we hadn't done it yet, Ian shushed me and we went "hiding" in the reeds. Beth took us around to look for the eagle's nest and Aaron spotted the huge mass up in a tree. It'll be easily visible when the leaves are down in a few weeks. Apparently efforts to repair the camera that has followed the pair and their eaglets will happen before the next nesting season. Saw another eagle sitting high on a dead branch above the family of swans on the island. I've not seen flying swans before and I think they easily rival the Great Blue Herons.

Finished up with the remaining paddle self-rescues. Loaded up and got back to school around 4. Tomorrow is the Green River Clean-up which I want to do but am taking a break. I've had too little time at home since the canoe trip and volunteering last weekend. I've also taken several odd jobs so need to catch up on homework. . . really learn how to tie knots and identify trees. Maybe even invest in some social time with friends which has eluded me since August. I realize that I'm feeling isolated as my time is primarily OLP or jobs.

Thursday, 10/1
Not as windy but still cloudy and in the 50s. People are sick and I'm feeling on that edge and know that in my normal life, there's no way I'd go out kayaking the way I feel. But, this is now my normal life. Austin and Beth have said that these bouts of cold and chill is how we prepare ourselves for the winter and mountain weather. I bring a "nip" of Elderberry syrup that my friend Anne swears by and take swigs periodically.

Two groups, both finished with field work, meet at the classroom and Beth takes us to the website of the ACA-American Canoe Association (est in the 1800s), to learn more about them, what they offer and how they will support us as professionals. Head to the boathouse, load kayaks and shove off to the public boat launch at Barton Cove. I've been kayaking off and on for 3 years with no formal instruction so I'm looking forward to learning proper strokes. I told Beth about the J-Stroke that several people have shown me and how hard I found it. She said a J doesn't exist in kayaking, only canoeing. Well, okay then.

We line up kayaks and review differences in styles though all are sea kayaks, which ones are tippier meaning they have more "chine" for turning, touch on supplies we'll need to bring and what to expect when we go sea kayaking. Beth shows us how to put on the skirts which I've always assumed would make me feel trapped. I pull it on over my head and wrap the edges around the cockpit of the kayak. Now I'm one with my kayak and it will keep me dry. We get on water, and Beth tells us that we'll be practicing wet exits and our challenge by choice will be to use or not use the skirts. She explains how to flip the boat and stresses the importance of maintaining calm; lean forward as we flip, take time, be calm and zen-like, tap the boat twice to signal we're okay, and then pull the cloth tab to pop the skirt. We practice strokes and we're about half an hour into it when suddenly Jen flips over. "Kayak!" we shout to notify a boat has flipped. Jen pops up dripping wet and surprised. Beth goes to her immediately asking if she is alright. Jen says, "Yes" she feels good for the time being. . .it's early in the day's plans. Beth allows that she may need to go in and change to dry clothes soon and checks in with her periodically.

We practice more strokes but eventually Beth asks for a volunteer to do the first (planned) wet exit. As she is asking the question I'm gearing up to volunteer first and get it out of the way. The longer I wait, the more traumatic it will feel. "I'll do it!" I shout, followed by an expletive that makes the group laugh. With an exception of recent boogie boarding in ME, over the years I've become less comfortable in the water, sad given that my mother grew up by the ocean. Water is my source of emotional healing when I am near it and hear it, and a source of fun being on it in a boat. I figure that if I'm going to have to flip, I may as well go for broke and keep the skirt on. Beth asks if I'm comfortable in the water and I surprise her by saying, "Nope, not really. Don't swim well." Hence PFDs. I paddle out a short distance, waste little time, take a few deep breaths and dump over. My mistake is that I don't lean forward. Beth tells me that I leaned back which would explain why I couldn't breathe when I came up. Caught some water. But, I was surprised at how easily I popped out of the kayak, leaving no time to think zen let alone be zen. Others had to work at it a bit and I think they may have had the neoprene skirts vs the nylon that I and others used.

The other half of this exercise was rescue, and George got to demo the T-rescue with me. I hauled myself up in many clumsy motions, one leg over either kayak, pulled myself up laying flat facing the stern so I could get my legs in and flip my butt over. Tired, I felt grateful to be done. But no, we still had the paddle self-rescue to do. Beth said if we do it today, we won't have to get wet tomorrow. Already wet and cold, I figured now's as good a time as any. The paddle self-rescue involves blowing up a float and putting it on your paddle blade, laying your leg along the paddle in the water with your foot on the blade and hauling yourself up, again, facing stern and, ideally, feet enter the cockpit first. Many tries later, I was about to give up and face it the next day. No upper body strength left, Beth said I was hypothermic and George could tow me in. But suddenly she had a thought that since my butt was over the cockpit, maybe I could very carefully turn over, hopefully not flip over the other side, and drop into the cockpit. I could tell by her voice that was her concern and I was determined not to screw up this golden opportunity now that I had a new option. I carefully balanced as I turned over and dropped into the cockpit. I just needed to manage my legs while balancing and smoothly pretzel my feet inside. Once there, I could paddle myself in. I balanced and pretzeled successfully! Thankfully, the group who saved the paddle self-rescue for tomorrow got all the boats up to the trailer and hitched. All I had to do was change to dry clothes in the parking lot. . . another first. We stood between the van and a car and Beth opened one of the van doors so we'd have some privacy though we were the only ones in the lot. Beth was done and gone, when a pick-up with a boat trailer, complete with yahoo standing and staring with arms folded, drove slowly by. I mean 2 mph voyeur kind of slow. No pants on, I had to grab my towel and almost tripped. George came by to change and offered a towel screen and I returned the favor. The voyeurs challenge my prissy privacy. I thought about yelling something but considered they might be officials so held back but George thinks they were just boaters. Come back again and I'll talk to you in my towel.