I have just returned from a month on the Mainland of Australia, where I attended the AGM of the Victorian Sea Kayak Club, and the AGM of the NSW Sea Kayak Club. This trip came about at the invitation of the NSW Sea Kayak Club, who very generously paid my return fare on the ferry, Spirit of Tasmania, complete with vehicle and two kayaks. I saw some things that surprised me, I saw some things that I couldn't believe I was seeing. I felt so strongly about the wrongness of two incidents that I withdrew from a 5 day trip on the third day and went back to the starting point on my own, rather than continue on with the group.

First of all let me tell you what I tell all new recruits whom I take on the water for the first time.

No. 1. Don't ever try to keep up with the leaders, but paddle at a pace that you feel comfortable with for a few hours. The leaders will always be glancing back, and will wait if they are getting too far ahead.
No. 2. If you are feeling tired or sea-sick or wish to stop for any reason, do not attempt to catch up to anyone to tell them. There is only one signal to use - stop paddling. The leader will always be glancing around and will see this. He/she may not come back immediately as you may just be getting a drink or a piece of chocolate, but if you don't start to paddle shortly they will come back to see what is up. The rest of the group will also stop while the trip leader sorts out the problem.

These are my two rules, and if they are followed no one will ever be left to paddle on their own. That is the single biggest crime that can be committed - to leave someone paddling on their own. Have a look at the online article on ‘Safety’ in the Sea Canoeist - Sept 1984. This is an article taken from Sea Kayaker, and describes an incident where three kayaks were on a 3 mile crossing between islands. Part way across the conditions deteriorated and the first two kayaks buggered off and left the third one on his own. His kayak was found the next day by the coastguard, and his body not far away. I wonder how those people in the first two kayaks live with this for the rest of their life.

I'll give you another incident that happened some years ago here in Tasmania. There were half a dozen of us on a trip round the bottom end of Bruny Island, virtually cliffs all the way from start to finish. We were only a few km from the finish. The paddlers in front were just turning the point to go up the bay to the campsite, when I looked round and saw Jeff way behind. He quite often does get behind while photographing, and is strong enough to then steam up to the front again - one of our strongest paddlers. Just out of sheer instinct I stopped to wait for him, not for a moment imagining anything was wrong. As soon as he was close enough he called out, "Laurie, for God's sake don't leave me. I've lost all sense of balance and will capsize any moment." We rafted up, the conditions were fairly calm, and there was little wind, and he wasn't sea-sick. The rest of the group were well round the point out of sight by now, but I was able to use my sail to move us in the right direction in the light wind, and we got to the campsite OK. He didn’t paddle the next day.

A couple of weeks later I phoned his home, only to find he was in Hospital fighting for his life, and had some rare condition that cut off circulation to all his extremities. He was desperately ill for quite some time, but eventually got back canoeing again and seems as strong as ever.

Now he may or may not have capsized, and may or may not have died from drowning or hypothermia - who knows? I only know that I could have lost a close friend, and yet he was perfectly OK at lunch time. Nobody is immune from sea-sickness, food poisoning, stomach cramps, or a million and one other things that may happen to the human body - entirely unexpectedly. The single biggest crime you can commit is to leave a paddler on their own.

As far as I’m concerned, if you start off with a group you owe it to that group to be in sight for the whole trip, whether it be a group of 2 or 10. If you just want to train for a marathon and go flat out all day I suggest you go off on your own somewhere. I have noticed that some clubs are getting into organising sea kayak racing - to me this is like bush-walking clubs getting into racing in the bush, what a horrible thought. There are Orienteering clubs for that sort of thing, and other ‘classic’ races for runners, kayakers, and cyclists. But bushwalking clubs are for bushwalking, and in my opinion sea kayaking is very similar. I have seen so called ocean racing, but the American commentators were calling the craft sea kayaks, when they looked for all the world like surf skis. Lets leave this form of racing to the surf clubs, and marathon races to the marathon clubs.

Now John MacGregor is the father of modern day sea kayaking, and his voyages in his various 'Rob Roy' canoes were rather remarkable for their time. In his book “The Rob Roy on the Jordan” he is discussing the value of wheels, and says “The fact is, in real canoeing, that is, in wild and unknown lands, you find no smooth roads to wheel a boat upon......”

And, in 1879 (nearly 120 years ago) a Reverend Fairey paddled something like 600km from Devonport to Hobart in a Rob Roy canoe. This trip included several night paddles - at one stage he was in his kayak for 25 hours, hoping to get into Blackman Bay and so “bring to a close the voyage on the open sea”. I wonder how many so-called sea canoeists would duplicate this voyage today, a voyage done by a man with very few canoeing skills - who obviously couldn’t roll, or perform a self rescue, or even brace into a wave.

This is something like the type of sea canoeing done by the Maatsuyker Canoe Club - we use our kayaks to travel places on the open sea - real sea kayaking.

Pete Dingle puts this very well. “Sea kayaking is about journeying. Sea kayaking is about exploring. Sea Kayaking is about sharing experiences and memories with others. There is more to sea kayaking than just paddling.”

Pete is a member of the Victorian Sea Kayak Club and circulated the following paper around his club for discussion, and followed it up with a survey form.

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The VSKC is currently thinking that there is a mood of change in the air; that the membership needs are changing; that we are not as sure as we thought we were as to why people join, or why they paddle. It got me thinking as to why people DO paddle, and my personal reflections and crude observations of others have led me to the conclusion that there are (at least) two differing philosophies as to why people paddle.

Why is this relevant? If the club is to change - either focus or direction - then we need to clarify why we do what we do. Are your needs the same as mine? Should the club be built around my needs or yours?

Below I have outlined the two differing paddling philosophies - on the how and why of Sea Kayaking. Which of the two philosophies do you lean towards? Is there a need for / room for both?

My intention with this discussion is not to push people into labelled boxes - but rather to help clarify why people paddle which hopefully will lead to clearer input from you back to the Club as to where it should go - as to how it can assist YOU in achieving YOUR needs.

Philosophy No. 1 - Sea Kayaking is about Self - Sufficiency
This is how Club trips probably used to be when the club was more a collection of closeknit mates - and some argue it should be a goal that each individual should eventually strive for.

There is a traditional sea kayaking core belief in self-sufficiency. By knowingly choosing to visit, in one sense, an unpredictable, potentially life-threatening environment, we acknowledge that we are playing life’s game by someone else’s rules. But the sense of adventure and exploration, the intimate relationship with untamed Nature in her many moods, the reliance and challenging of ones skills and judgement add powerfully to our reason for living and a love of life.

Self-sufficiency powerfully implies a responsibility for personal safety and the abhorrence of creating a situation where others may risk their lives to save your own. The belief that “If you got yourself into this, then get yourself out of this” is at the heart of sea kayaking culture, and we acknowledge that it is behoven upon us to be adequately prepared in skills, knowledge and experience and that good judgement in the marrying of these understandings, is the key to our survival.

Self-sufficiency can imply not requiring paddling companions - of solo paddling. You may either go on a trip by yourself, or go with a group, but be paddling out of sight of each other. The big assumption (and risk) here is that you are prepared for the unexpected, or that the unwanted wont happen and that assistance by mates is neither sought nor necessary.

There is considerable satisfaction in physically and mentally challenging oneself with nature. The human qualities of endurance, power, strength, stamina, coping with pain and discomfort, resilience, persistence and tenacity are all essential in sea kayaking - wisely applied through a deep respect for the sea and the weather.

It’s not so much an attitude ‘of death and adventure’, but more of working near the limits of one’s comfort zone.

Philosophy No. 2 - Sea Kayaking is a means to an end rather than an end in itself.
Sea kayaking is about journeying. Sea kayaking is about exploring. Sea Kayaking is about sharing experiences and memories with others. There is more to sea kayaking than just paddling.

The coast is that boundary between the sea and the land and as much enjoyment is to be gained from paddling to special places and exploring on the land and looking out to sea as there is in paddling & exploring at sea looking at the land.

Journeys can be short or long.

On day trips it may be both land and water exploring - rockpools, wetlands for bird spotting, beachcombing, visiting local maritime historical sites (shipwrecks, wooden boats,...), old wartime fortifications, looking for dolphins, seals, penguins, gannets, jellyfish. Some members have a lot of knowledge to share in these areas.

On overnight trips you can afford to travel further and stay out longer. One can enjoy setting up camp early, exploring rock pools, having a quiet fish, looking for aboriginal middens, ship wreck sites, exploring caves, sharing sunsets, pouring over maps as to which part of the coast to explore on the next trip, going for bushwalks inland to visit mountains, waterfalls, rainforests; sleeping under the stars on beaches or cliff tops, sampling bush tucker, ....

Quite often, my most memorable paddling experiences are from sharing yarns around a campfire at night or swapping stories around a candle in someone’s tent during a storm. The stories come out of places visited or dreams yet to be realised; plans for future trips start to gel. Sometimes, silently sharing with your paddling companions, the blasting of the wind and rain on top of sand dunes, as you watch the pounding surf roll in as a storm rolls by, is both exhilarating and humbling - & these memories are enriched even more, for you have someone to share them with later.

The beauty of paddling with a group is that, for many of the trips, you don’t all have to be brilliantly talented. Each person contributes to the group in their own delightful random, adhoc way. Friendships, like safety, increase and develop from the sharing of time and experience.

Paddling competency, though greatly respected, is fortunately, not the sole measure of worth of a paddler. Obviously good sea knowledge, leadership and paddling experience are invaluable, but people are also valued for their sense of humour, good judgement and wisdom, a willingness to have a go in a supportive atmosphere, their sense of adventure and exploration, uniqueness of character, caring and compassion, culinary skills, card playing, singing, joke telling, ... all the things that contribute to the fond memories that make trips (and the re-telling of them) worthwhile - and why we keep going on more and more trips.

So which Philosophy are you more tuned to?

Am I really suggesting that it is a choice of one or the other?

Perhaps not. I know for me, it is a mixture of the two. Some trips I enjoy the thrill and exhilaration of going hard & working near my limit, which invariably means paddling becomes a prime focus, as it is directed to survival - and I, like most paddlers, have a pretty strong sense of self preservation.

On other trips, I enjoy more of a focus on exploring, on sharing the experience, on meeting & talking with new members as you paddle along, on enjoying the company of seals, dolphins, or penguins, on going for coastal rambles with others, at looking at fox, dog, dingo or deer tracks in the sand, at trying to learn from field guides more about the natural history around us, at setting up & anchoring the tent in ‘just the right spot’ so you can get the best view of the sea on waking - without it being shredded by the wind during the night, .... the list goes on.

I also enjoy, in some way, the unpredictability of trips. The intention of going on a nice quiet paddle can sometimes be a ‘paddling near one’s limit’ trip - invariably due to a worsening of the weather. Though perhaps enjoyable in a personal sense, it can be frightening in another sense - when you find you are under-prepared in terms of skills or equipment or leadership - and then the welfare of yourself or other group members can be a problem.

I also enjoy how the nature of the experience changes according to the blend of many factors - size of group, type of boats, type of personalities, the weather, the sea, the time of day, length of the trip, .... These add to the unpredictability - and enjoyment - of trips.

(End of Pete's article)
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I’m going to call Pete's two philosophies category 1 and 2, but I also feel that the biggest group of sea kayak owners fall into cat.3.
These people seem to have the romantic idea that the kayak will propel itself through the flat calm water, gliding along close to shore as they take in all the delights that nature can offer. They don’t need any kayaking skills, because if conditions change they will just go ashore. A lot of bushwalkers think like this - if things get a bit tough, or you get a bit tired - you can just stop and put the billy on to boil and have a nice cup of tea.

Unfortunately these people are never going to fully enjoy the experiences described by Pete, because they are never going to get to these remoter places. In my experience the majority of sea kayak owners never go on overnight trips along the coast, or out to nearby islands - because they are dead worried the weather may change overnight and they will not have the skills to paddle home again. I can remember a trip many years ago when we paddled in very quiet conditions on the second last day to get back to Swan Island (after a night crossing of Banks Strait). The next day a gale blew in about sunrise (without any warning from the weather bureau), we attempted to paddle the three miles to get back to our vehicles but found it impossible to do so and spent an extra day on the island, and all missed a days work. We ended up paddling back after dark the next day, because the wind just turned off at sunset, after howling for two solid days. I arrived back home about 2 in the morning.

The sea and the weather can be unpredictable in Tasmania, and probably many other places. You can not be Pete’s cat. 2 paddler without learning a lot of skills - not necessarily total self-sufficiency, but fairly competent in 25 knot winds, and 2 metre breaking seas. When you get to this standard you stop worrying about weather changes and really start to enjoy the trip. And if you don’t get to this standard then pretty soon the better paddlers are going to get tired of continually waiting for you and altering their plans every time the weather changes - and eventually you may find you are being left out of the more interesting trips. The Maatsuyker Canoe Club tends to overcome this by having a club rule that you must do 3 overnight trips a year to remain a member - so members gain experience fairly rapidly

Let me give you three examples of people who wanted to go sea canoeing (or kayaking - I don’t differentiate between the two).

Ian: He bought a sea kayak without even knowing sea kayak clubs existed - but thought it was something he wanted to do. He was told about the Maatsuyker Canoe Club by other inland canoeists, and got in touch with us. I fitted his kayak out with hatches and bulkheads and rudder etc after going on a trial paddle with him for a few hours - just to give him some idea of what it is all about. A few weeks later I took him out in some reasonable surf to teach him bracing and coming in to a beach sideways on big breakers. He picked this up fairly quickly (it is a lot easier than it looks from the shore) and then he made the startling announcement that he had taught himself to roll. I’d never ever heard of anyone doing this before so asked him how he’d done it. “I read about it in a book, and then went out on a lake near home and practised.” I had to see this so we went out past the break line, and sure enough he could do a Pawlata roll. Now that is keen. He wasn’t going to sit around waiting for us to teach him, and in those first few months did several trips with the club, including a night paddle.

Kamikaze (a nick name for a young lady paddler). She had just started river paddling, but still falling out on most trips, and not yet rolling - and wanted to try sea canoeing. Cec and I took her on an overnight trip round one of the Bass Strait islands, and she came out in the surf over the bar at Mosquito Inlet. At the end of the trip we told her about upcoming club trips, including a Bass Strait crossing in three months time. “What do I have to do to go on that?” “Get fit.”

Three months later she paddled across Bass Strait, and back, including one night paddle of over 14 hours, and including another fairly hectic 11 hours in winds of over 40 knots, when she came out of her kayak many times (I came out three times). On her second last capsize (less than ten minutes from landing on a quiet little beach) she said “Are we all going to die?” [The report is online]. This girl then went on to become one of the club’s strongest and most enthusiastic paddlers.

Sue, Tilly, Jamie: I took Tilly and Jamie out on quiet waters to teach them a few basic strokes, and bracing into breaking waves. Unfortunately there weren’t any breaking waves so we did a 25 km paddle out to an island and back. This was their first time ever in a kayak. Sue had already done a novice trip in dead flat water previously. During the next week they came to me and asked for a ‘real’ two day trip somewhere, they were in a hurry to get as much experience as possible. Having a bit of an idea of the weather for the weekend I chose to paddle from Port Arthur round past Tasman Island, to Fortescue Bay, camp the night, and then continue up the coast to Pirates Bay past many sea caves and archways. The first day was a 30km paddle, with sheer cliffs all the way, the second day about 12km.

Sue fell out twice in the first half hour, before we swapped boats around to put her in a more stable kayak. The back wash off the cliffs also produced some minor seas sickness at one stage, but we finished both days without any problems. This was a trip with just me and three novices - no skills what so ever - no support strokes, no rolling, no self rescue - BUT a POSITIVE MENTAL ATTITUDE.

In all the above cases, these people wanted to go sea canoeing. They weren’t going to throw in the towel at the first sign of headwinds or lumpy seas, and start whinging that they shouldn’t be out there. They wanted adventure - and if that’s what they want then there is any amount of it on the sea.

I very firmly believe that it is better to take people on an overnight trip first up, and give them an indication of what sea canoeing is all about. Keep it a simple trip, preferably to some island, and lend them a kayak. Then they have a much better picture of what they are getting into. The cat.3 paddlers will disappear after the first trip and never come back - so you won’t waste any more time on them - there are plenty of other clubs that cater for flat water paddlers. If you spend hours and hours training people on flat water, then maybe they’ll get the idea that that is all there is to sea canoeing. I’m interested in introducing ‘adventurers’ to sea canoeing, people that want to go places in their kayaks. In fact I positively enjoy introducing genuine adventurers to sea kayaking. Sea kayaking has given Cecily and myself so much pleasure over the last 20 years that its hard to imagine life without those memories.

And here is a little gem for you - you will notice I have mentioned adventurers, but not adventuresses. Adventuress in my dictionary is “A woman who seeks social and financial advancement by dubious means” - just thought you’d be interested.

Sure our club is small - that’s the way I like it. If it ever gets more than 20 members I’ll start to worry - our lovely campsites around the Tasmanian coast won’t handle that many people.

While I was on the mainland I heard some horrifying stories about people getting lost on trips, and kayaks being broken in three pieces on novice trips. One trip had something like 27 paddlers on it, and at the finish some of them were missing - one had got tired and landed on an earlier beach - unnoticed, and another had overshot the landing beach by 10 km and gone to another beach. This is pretty frightening stuff, those paddlers could easily have suffered the fate of Jeff Spears in the Safety article already mentioned above and their bodies recovered later by the coastguard. You can not keep an eye on 27 paddlers. I personally would not paddle with that many, 10 or 12 should be an absolute maximum.

The same club managed to let some novices break their double kayak into three pieces - if the paddlers had still been in it when it smashed upside down on the rocks then they could now be paraplegic, or worse.

Twenty years ago we looked at a grading system from overseas that attempted to grade sea trips, but rejected the idea out of hand, you can’t grade the sea. And Pete also suggests this when he says “The intention of going on a nice quiet paddle can sometimes be a ‘paddling near one’s limit’ trip - invariably due to a worsening of the weather.”

At the recent Victorian AGM this subject was again raised by a novice paddler, and was immediately told by several of their more experienced paddlers that you can’t grade the sea - what may be a perfectly simple novice trip one day can be an advanced trip the next day, and what may be an advanced trip one day may be a novice trip the next day.

If I am going to take any one on a trip I need to have seen them in a kayak before, so I can assess their suitability for the trip - keeping in mind the expected weather conditions. And their mental outlook goes a long way to this assessment. How do you write this into a grading system? Would you take a novice with three months experience across Bass Strait and return? And it’s no use asking them if they think they can do it - they are novices and don’t have any experience to be able to make that sort of decision. That’s my job - I’m the expert - I know what the conditions may get like, and I can assess the paddlers capabilities better than they can. I once had a Sea Instructor (a very experienced paddler) on a night paddle across Banks Strait which took a couple of hours longer than expected due to it being absolutely pitch black. We knew we were in the vicinity of the small low island we were aiming for, but couldn’t see it - so we just held station for a couple of hours till daylight, and there it was several hundred metres away. This paddler said he may not have come if he’d known he was going to be in his kayak for 8 hours without getting out of it. You will find that adventurous people will always find some hidden reserves when required, and will do things they never imagined possible. Reverend Fairey did an overnight paddle of 25 hours 120 years ago - what are we? A bunch of TV watching wimps? Extend your horizons. Learn to handle adverse conditions as quickly as possible. When you do you will start to get maximum enjoyment out of sea kayaking. If that is not your scene, then maybe you are in the wrong club.

And have a look at this.
 
 

Grade	Description & Pre-requisites	Scaling factors
1.  2.	Beginner - Closed or protected water - instruction available. No experience required. Might not be influenced by bad weather.  Novice with some paddling experience. <15 km paddling day(s) primarily along accessible coastline or on protected water. Pre-requisite: able to perform assisted rescues.	Wind ......Sea ...Add(for each)  <10kn........<1.5m.......0  10-15kn....1.5-2.5......0.5  15-25kn....>2.5m........1.0  >25kn.......>3.0m........1.5
3.    4.	Proficient. <25km paddling day(s). Possibly short open water crossing or non landable stretches: up to 5km. Pre-requisites: able to perform assissted rescues & surf entries & exits.  Intermediate. <40km paddling day(s). Longer open crossings and non landable stretches: up to 10km. Pre-requisites: able to perform assissted rescues and rescue others; surf entries and exits; reliable Eskimo roll.	>20kn.........>2.5m........1.0
5.    6.	Advanced. Long open ocean paddling in large seas and adverse conditions. Pre-requisites; very reliable surfing skills & Eskimo roll, ability to self rescue & rescue others.  Expedition. Potentially very challenging conditions. Only for experienced advanced paddlers. Probably by invitation only.	No weather modifications.  Paddlers know their limits.

The grading system is intended as a rough guide for members to self-assess their suitability for club paddles.
To obtain modified grading ADD the value for wind and seas. Eg. For a grade 2 paddle on a weekend with forecasted 12kn winds & 2m seas the new grade would be
Grade 2 + 0.5(wind) + 0.5(seas) = Grade 3
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I first saw this about 12 months ago and my first impression was that this was a device to stop people going sea canoeing - you virtually don’t go anywhere interesting unless you are a bit of an expert.

If you look at the trip I took Sue, Tilly & Jamie on above, its a Grade 5, and look at the pre-requisites for that - bunkum. Paddlers know their limits? - bunkum. These people had all had just a few hours in a kayak - how would they know their limits? That’s my job - to assess their limits, and guess on the weather conditions. These three were very enthusiastic and grateful for the experience at the end of the two day trip. Two of them have since been on overnight club trips, and Tilly has just bought her own sea kayak. You will remember that Sue capsized twice in the first hour or so - that was when I showed them a couple of different types of rescues.

When Kamikaze got to the top end of Flinders Island and we were ready for the start of the Bass Strait crossing she asked “What about me?” and we said “You’ll be right”. We had three very capable paddlers to one novice and didn’t think we’d have too much trouble looking after her - we’ve never lost a canoeist yet. There is no way she could even have begun to imagine the conditions she might be paddling in - it was not her job to self-assess herself - that’s our job.

So what were the incidents that I so strongly objected to that I left a trip and paddled 40km back to the start on my own, stopping to camp about 7pm that evening? It was a trip from Eden to Mallacoota, organised by my old mate John, intending to take 4 or 5 days for about 75 km - no great rush. The first two days were great - just four of us paddling along in a group, enjoying the coastal scenery, and nobody ever in any danger of being out of sight of each other. If the front paddlers gradually got ahead by a few hundred metres they would ease up after a while and the group kept re-grouping at regular intervals. A third paddler joined us on the second night, having driven to a beach nearby. Two other paddlers were supposed to join us as well, but they didn’t show up till the next morning, just as we were leaving the campsite. One arrived by himself, and John asked where Ron was. “Out there somewhere, about 20 minutes behind.” I should add that this was crossing a large bay into a fairly stiff SW headwind, not particularly dangerous, but enough to make it fairly tough going if you were punching into it for long periods.
“Where is he going to meet us?”
“I don’t know, I’m just going to paddle up and down the coast till I see him.”
I found this attitude incredible to say the least, and felt like saying so, but decided to keep it for later on around the camp fire.

Ron did join us shortly after, and we continued on down the coast, still punching into the stiff SW. The trip now seemed to be a bit of a race - no longer were we touring round the bays as a group, it was flat out from point to point, and then straight across to the next point. The group started to string out, the two fittest out in front, the next fittest back several hundred metres struggling to keep up, the next one further back etc.. I didn’t see much point in this. I had never paddled this part of Australia, and probably wouldn’t again, so I chose to continue to mosey along the shore line, going in and out of every bay - watching the line of paddlers out at sea strung out behind one another.
Otherwise I had this mental picture of getting back to Tasmania and have someone ask me what the coastline south of Eden was like, and my answer would have been “I don’t know, I was too far off shore to see much of it.”

Not my idea of sea canoeing at all.

After a couple of bays I could see that John and Ron were trailing along well behind, even though I was touring right round the shoreline, so I went out to sea to see how they were going. “Ron’s just about knackered, and needs a rest” says John. “Allright, there’s a beach in there, no problem,” I returned. John wanted to go along to the next point where the others were resting and waiting, to tell them, but I suggested this was unnecessary as they would see us go ashore and follow us in. Imagine my absolute disgust to see this group watch us land and then race off down the coast as fast as they could, still going hell for leather. When we got ashore I was fuming, and told John that I didn’t feel like continuing any further if that was the way they went paddling with their mates. This was in the middle of the day for Christ’s sake - 1230 - lunch time, and they couldn’t wait half an hour on a beach for their mate. We were less than an hour and a half from the campsite. All they were going to do was get to the campsite and sit on the beach for the rest of the day - why not spend an hour on this beach? What overwhelming reason could you possibly have not to wait for one of your mates? In 20 years of canoeing I have never ever seen that happen before.

One of the problems with people going ashore for a rest is that they feel guilty about holding the party up, and will probably insist on paddling again before they have had a really good rest. I took care of this by changing into dry clothes and disappearing along the beach and back for just over an hour, and spent the time trying to calm down and decide on a course of action. I ended up feeling that a discussion around the campfire would merely see these macho men defend their right to go off as hard as they like, so I made a stronger objection and left the group. I did continue on down the coast a short distance with John and Ron till the campsite was in sight, and checked with John that he would be OK, before leaving to go back to Eden - camping just short of it as I didn’t fancy camping on the wharf for the night. The next day I got into Eden early and rang Cec on the mobile to come and pick me up, - she was miles up the coast at Bermagui, doing the rounds of craft shops.

The other problem of Ron getting tired in the first place was that he probably disregarded my first rule, don’t try to keep up with the leaders - paddle at your own pace. I am aware that he hadn’t paddled for a while which probably didn’t help, but then I had only been in a kayak three times in the last three months, and two of those times were with the Victorians at their AGM.

The paddlers on this trip mainly seemed to fit Pete’s cat.1, and had little interest in exploring the coastline at all, as shown by the following. On the second night we were camped at a place called Merrica River. We were a couple of hundred metres up the river, and camped on the sandy bank about 5 metres from the waters edge. I wandered about for a bit, and less than 100 metres from where we were camped found a real sheltered bushwalkers campsite in behind the trees, with a big marker to indicate this was the end of a walking trail. When I returned to the others and questioned why we weren’t camping in the ‘real’ campsite they all looked at me blankly. Despite having camped at Merrica River at least four times previously - they had never noticed this campsite less than 100 metres away. I don’t know. Maybe they arrive at every campsite absolutely buggered from racing each other, and are too tired to look around. Then maybe they get up early the next morning and continue to race each other down the coast. Me? I think I’ll stick to cat.2 type paddling, and take some interest in my surroundings when ashore.

Incidentally, Pete mentions cat.1 paddlers going in a group, but being out of sight of each other. If this does happen, why start off in a group at all?

So what did I think of the two AGM’s I attended? They were totally different to each other - the only thing they had in common was the very nice people attending both of them.

The Victorians went to Flinders, a small village on Westernport Bay/Bass Strait. Here they had a paddle on Saturday at nine in the morning, and went up inside Westernport Bay for a few km, landed on a beach for a while, then returned to Flinders for the AGM at the local motel conference room at 3pm. This was followed by a counter meal across the street at the local pub - and a good time was had by all. They very generously paid for Cecily’s and my counter meal. Sunday was another short paddle out into Bass Strait and along towards Cape Schanck, again landing on a beach for a while before paddling back to Flinders. There were about 13 paddlers on both days.

They invited me to say a few words at the end of their AGM, which I did - telling them a bit about the Maatsuyker Club, and my idea of group paddling. It was interesting to see that on the Saturday paddle the group was so spread out it was almost impossible to see the whole group, whereas on Sunday they were never more that a few hundred metres away from each other - but then it was under different conditions. Bass Strait, although extremely calm, still had some big breaks over offshore rocks and reefs that would intimidate novices. There were quite a lot of novices at their AGM, and quite a bit of discussion about appropriate training for the club. Another subject covered was legal requirements for sea kayaks. Apparently in WA there is a bit of paranoia about obeying the requirements of carrying a full life jacket, an anchor and rope, and the authorities there seem to hassle sea kayakers and threaten prosecution. There seem to be similar laws for small craft in Victoria, but the authorities don’t seem to care too much about sea kayaks - so the feeling of the club was to ignore legislation till it was forced to their attention. I know that years ago the South Australian’s seemed to think they should carry a whole lot of gear to be law abiding citizens - I think SA law may also require a fire extinguisher to be carried on small craft. (This subject was also raised at the NSW AGM)

So the Vic AGM was pretty low key, some people choosing not to paddle on either day. Quite a few of their members are right into training for the Murray River Marathon, and some boats were much more suited to that event.

The NSW AGM was much more structured and organised, and all go. It is held at a very pretty little bay on Jervis Bay, called Honeymoon Bay - a very popular spot for other campers as well.

Saturday:
9.00 - 9.30 Talk and discussion about long distant paddle by a marathon expert.
9.30 - 10.00 Discussion around the kayaks on the beach about the various ways of getting water out.
10.00 - 10.45 Chance for people to talk about new products - mainly new kayak designs.
11.00 - 12.00 Advanced forward paddling by one of Australia’s leading marathon/sprint coaches. 12.00 - 1.00 Turning and bracing - without rudders.
1.00 - 2.00 Lunch.
2.00 - 4.00 Surfing skills around at Target Beach - nearby.
2.00 - 4.00 Rolling and re-enter, in the bay.
5.00 AGM - in the open (and howling wind through the trees).
8.00 My slides, in the open (the wind dropped at just the right time).(Actually they WERE Cec’s slides)

Sunday:
6.00 - 10km trip out to Point Perpendicular and return.
9.30
Mini America Cup (sailing race)
Tug of war in kayaks.
Figurehead race (race with female form on front deck).

So you can see that it was extremely well organised - I was very impressed. I counted the kayaks on the beach early Sunday morning - there were about 50 on the beach , and still a few more up in the camp grounds. Quite a few plastic kayaks about - it seems that very few people build their own kayaks, whereas in Tasmania it seems that people are building them as fast as they can - you can build a Greenlander for about $500 worth of materials.

Let me tell you about the sailing race on Sunday. Although many of the bought boats come with rudders, there almost seems to be a club policy that you shouldn’t have one, that you are not a good paddler if you use one. Consequently sailing is not encouraged - I heard the word ‘purist’ mentioned several times. Which surprises me because John MacGregor fathered sea canoeing - and he used sails and rudders. Any way, back to the race. I missed the start, and first saw them way offshore, running straight downwind towards a marker kayak out to sea, then they had to turn 90⁰ and reach across into Honeymoon Bay. There were about 8 and I could only recognise John Wilde’s big pink sail, and all the kayaks were strung out over a good distance. But the bloke with the binoculars on the rocks behind me said “the umbrella is still leading.” Umbrella!! Umbrella!! What on earth is he talking about. But sure enough, in the run straight downwind, there was a guy in a kayak holding up a golf umbrella, and leading John’s Greenlander by a bit of a margin. Shock! Horror! This could put Tasmanian sea canoeing back 20 years - an umbrella!!

Fortunately when they turned at the mark to reach across to the bay John just sailed straight past the umbrella (and just as well or he wouldn’t have wanted to come close to me - I’d have stoned him). However the umbrella was still so far in front of the rest of the sails that he managed to be second quite easily, even though for a while he obviously wasn’t going to get into the bay just by sailing, he was making too much leeway. He folded the umbrella up and used his hands for paddling (paddles were banned) and managed to get inside the entrance of the bay and put his umbrella up to cross the finish line. The rest were so far behind that they must realise they need to have a complete rethink on sails and rudders.

One funny thing happened this weekend. There was a chap, Stuart?, and his wife/girl friend? camped a few metres away from Cec & myself, and I saw him take several long hard looks at the Longboat first thing Saturday morning. Eventually he asked “Was that kayak in Fortescue Bay at Easter?” It was, because that’s when I had three novices over from NSW for six days of sea canoeing. Stu and Sharon had been in Tasmania doing the Overland Track, and gone to Fortescue for a few days rest and relaxation after their walk, and saw the Longboat there. They decided that sea canoeing looked like the way to go, so when they got back to NSW they joined the Sea Kayak Club - bit of a coincidence eh?

I actually took a lot of photocopied material specially for this AGM, intending to distribute it and have a few words to say about various subjects - but after the Eden trip I had a rethink. They have about 180 members and if that’s the way they want to have their club run, then that’s their business. So I just ended up showing 160 slides of Japan, Fiji, and Tasmania. I also intended to show the 20 minutes of video Jeff has done on the Port Davey trip, but the video gear didn’t turn up.

There are paddlers in Victoria and NSW who have done decent trips; crossed Bass Strait, crossed Torres Strait, paddled in the Flinders Island area, paddled in the Barrier Reef area etc.. Next year a couple of blokes are going off to the Kimberlies for three months, to paddle from Wyndham to Broome. Hopefully one of these will buy themselves a waterproof video camera so that we may all end up seeing some of this amazing coastline from the sea - should be a fascinating trip.

Paddles and paddling: This session at Honeymoon Bay was very worthwhile insofar as it taught people to paddle efficiently, so you get less tired on a trip - which is a safety factor for sure. (So are sails for the same reason). The coach, Terry, has trained some of the top people currently representing Australia, so he knows his onions. After quite a long session on the beach he then spent a lot of time in the afternoon coaching a number of people on the water. I differed with him on one slight matter when I queried his statement that it is not necessary to paddle with the paddle low across the deck in a very strong cross wind. In my opinion the wind will get under the blade and capsize you, and I’d be more than happy to go down off SE Cape in a 40 knotter sometime to demonstrate this, when the mini tornados of whirling white spray are stinging your skin so hard that you are forced to close your eyes, and just lean out to windward almost flat on the water, supporting on your paddle. But I could sense that Dirk felt this was getting away from the purpose of the session, to teach efficient paddling.

Later on I pointed out that the way he was sitting on the bench on the beach and demonstrating the strokes, people were probably under the impression that the paddle blade actually moves a metre or so through the water during a stroke. This is not so - the paddle barely moves more than an inch or two. He agreed with me, and said “You’re quite right my friend, in fact if you are paddling 100% efficiently the blade does not move through the water at all.” He said it was very much like pulling yourself along with a series of ‘fixed stakes’ in the water, first you reach forward and grab the left ‘stake’ and pull yourself forward, and then reach forward again and grab the right ‘stake’ etc.. If your paddle is not moving through the water then your shaft becomes these ‘fixed stakes’ that you pull yourself along on.

I was glad he agreed with this, because I made a bit of a study in 1982 on different paddle shapes, and how much they cavitated (sucked air down). I noted part of my results in my Bass Strait crossing report in 1982, saying that pointy ended paddles seemed not to cavitate as much as square ended paddles. As part of this study I was quite surprised to notice that the paddle wasn’t actually moving through the water - I’d always just assumed it did. I also came to the conclusion to stop it cavitating you had to put the blade completely in the water before you started to pull on it - as top marathon and sprint paddlers of the day were doing. This in fact proved that the designers of assymetrical paddles (the early Lendal type blade) had got it wrong. The opinion seemed to be that when a square blade was starting to enter the water and you started pulling on it it would twist in your hand slightly - because more of one side of the blade was in the water than the other side (taking the line of the shaft as the centre of the blade). They cut the bottom of the blade at an angle so that both sides of the blade entered the water together, so the shaft would not tend to twist in your hand. In actual fact it is wrong to start pulling on the shaft till the blade is completely in the water.

Back to the talk by Terry. There is a new blade about, called a propeller blade amongst other things - you can buy one of these paddles for about $300 I believe. Terry strongly recommends these for competition paddling - you’re not in the race if you don’t have one. And yet assuming all top paddlers in Australia are now using these, Terry is still getting a large share of his paddlers representing Australia. Therefore, maybe coaching technique is more important, which is why the really top coaches all round the world have a slight edge on their rivals. So, how important is the shape of the blade? I have heard that when you slide this blade sideways out of the water at the end of a stroke it tends to pull you forward (because it is shaped like an aeroplane wing, which gives lift). This may be important in the Olympics where hundredths of a second are important, but hardly applies to sea canoeing. If I had one of these paddles, and spent six months with Terry being coached, I’d probably end up freezing to death - always waiting for the last paddler.

And let’s look at that statement again “the blade does not move through the water at all”. If so, then it must be fairly irrelevant what shape the paddle is, you should be able to glue a couple of table tennis bats onto a shaft and not be terribly disadvantaged, when you are sea canoeing. All you need is some area of blade so that your shaft becomes the ‘fixed stake’ in the water to pull yourself along on. I talked to one marathon paddler about the characteristics of his sea kayak and he said it was OK but a bit slow. Surely boat design and serious training are going to be much more important than some new gimmicky paddle design. Let’s face it - next year there will be another new paddle design that will shave a hundredth of a second off your time over 500 metres - big deal!

But apart from that, the talk by Terry was about the most worthwhile advice I heard the whole weekend, paddling efficiently must be every one’s aim.

I guess sea canoeing on the mainland is much the same as Tasmania, there are a small number of paddlers doing interesting things, while the majority of sea kayak owners are content to stay on flat sheltered water - not sea kayaking as I would define it. I’m not intending this as a derogatory statement, there is nothing wrong with flat water touring - in fact it is in wide demand. Cec and I paddled for a day on Tallowa Dam and saw dozens of canoes and kayaks everywhere and I paddled alongside one Canadian canoe with a father and his two children on their first ever go at canoeing. They’d been up the lake for an overnight camp with a commercial group - I only wish more parents would get their kids outdoors doing this sort of thing. The thing that sticks in my throat is the person who goes for a paddle on Middle Harbour in the weekend, and then goes into work Monday and tells everyone he’s been sea canoeing - bunkum - it’s flat water touring.

Reverend Fairey went sea canoeing, as did John MacGregor. I guess a lot of people think that Eskimos invented sea kayaking - in actual fact I don’t believe they had much to do with modern day sea kayaking. Look at the picture below - which is from an advertisement for a kayak.

Picture this conversation as Mr Eskimo looks out his igloo entrance.
“Gee darling, there’s a good 3 metre break over the bar today, I think I’ll go out and play around for a few hours.”
OR “Gee darling, annual holidays are coming up next week, I think I’ll go off for a few weeks with the boys and slip down to Maatsuyker Island.”

To my knowledge the Eskimo kayaks were mainly used for hunting seals basking on the surface on reasonably flat days, a far cry from what modern kayaks are used for today. In fact many years ago there was world wide publicity for a so called sea kayak that was taken from the traditional Eskimo design. Time has shown that to be an absolute pig of a boat, and I was very pleased to find there was not one at either AGM I went to. 17 years ago I argued with people that it was a poor kayak, and it is.

But the above advertisement gives the impression of a modern day sea kayaker going out for a day’s fun in the breakers, exactly what the Eskimo never did. I’m not commenting on this particular kayak design, not every one is going to paddle the same kayak, just as not everyone drives the same car. There are a thousand and one reasons for people choosing a design that suits their style, image, expectations etc..

Me, I want a kayak that will carry a big load, a kayak that is difficult to turn, ie. it will go in a straight line and not be turned easily by every bit of wind or wave hitting it side on. It needs to be stable enough to take photographs from in bad conditions, and I like carrying a couple of sails when the wind gets up to 30 knots. Generally speaking, a longer kayak will be faster than a shorter one. I like a small cockpit so I am ‘locked’ in and have perfect control when bracing, and rolling. I can also paddle without a spraydeck and very little water gets in. And just to give you an example - the 6.00am paddle out to Point Perpendicular on Sunday morning was done in reasonably lumpy conditions, so lumpy in fact that the trip was officially ‘called off’ by the leader, and paddlers who still wanted to go would do so at their own risk so to speak. Many paddlers turned round and headed back, while a few kept going - there were some big breaking waves, and a fresh southerly wind. I was out there without a spraydeck, and had a marvellous time with the sail up - spearing down the waves.

Now if you are a person who is not into long distance travelling, but more into playing around in surf over the nearest bar, then you want a kayak that is highly manoeuvrable, probably with a high bow that will not act like a submarine when you start surfing - my kayak would not suit you at all.

If you prefer paddling on quieter waters, size and weight may become more important because of limited storage at home - a shorter lighter boat may appeal to you far more than the so called expedition type kayak.

The marathon paddler is obviously going to go for the fastest kayak he can find, and never mind how it handles a 30 knot storm - he doesn’t intend ever to be out in one.

So there is room for many different types of kayaks, and if I comment on them, it would be about their suitability to do my sort of sea canoeing - wilderness touring as started by John MacGregor (although no doubt wilderness areas are not so easy to find as they were back then).

My idea of a good trip is to start paddling early in the morning, and paddle for 4 or 5 hours, and then go ashore to camp in the middle of the day. This leaves time for people to climb the nearest hill or mountain, or go off diving for crays and abalone, or just wander along the shoreline beach combing. It is not always possible to stick to this format because of a number of reasons, such as tides, weather, and occasionally the mere fact of sometimes having to paddle 50 km to the next landing spot.

As previously mentioned, I tell people the best signal to use to attract attention is to stop paddling. I know other groups use whistles, and complicated hand signals - but I feel my system is simpler and easier for everyone to remember, you don’t have to remember any ‘codes’. At the Victorian AGM a signalling system from overseas was put forward for discussion, to become a ‘world wide’ system for kayakers all over the world to use. I was pleased to see it got lots of laughter, and dismissed out of hand without any discussion at all. One of the signals to attract attention was to sit in your kayak with your paddle held horizontally above your head - where do they practice these things - in a swimming pool?

While on group paddling, one other ‘rule’ that I apply to myself when leading a trip is to try and be within ‘talking’ distance of the last paddler about every 20 minutes. Talking distance on a calm day may be 60 metres, on a rough day may be 5 metres. You don’t necessarily have to say anything, but you are close enough for them to mention any problems they may be starting to have. And sometimes if I feel people are really getting tired and starting to feel a bit down I may drop way back behind them and dawdle somewhat. There can’t be anything worse than always trailing along behind a group, knowing you are the slowest, and subconsciously trying to keep up so as not to keep them waiting. I feel that if they can see another paddler back behind them then they may just ease up slightly. Even just paddling close to them will give them a bit of moral support.

I now have to confess that on the odd occasion I have got up early in the morning (4.00am) on some trips and gone off on my own. I enjoy being on the water before sunrise and watch the gradual lightening of the sky, and the pink, orange and red hues that precede the sun bursting out of the sea - if I lived 1,000 years ago I could easily have been a sun worshipper. But all these have been done in very settled weather, and I’ve never got too far away. For instance the last time was when we had paddled into a big sheltered enclosed bay after a day on the open sea, and the rest of the trip was never more than a few hundred metres from a major highway. The group I left was a strong capable party. Another time I left early to paddle from Thunder & Lighting Bay to Preservation Island - a distance of 5 miles. This was also a period of very settled weather, and another very strong group of paddlers - and that was our whole paddling schedule for that day.

I have been on many trips when there were only two of us - quite often Jeff & myself, or Mick and myself, and the last trip a few weeks ago was Tilly and myself. Never on any of these trips would I ever contemplate going off early by myself - no matter how early I wake up, or how inviting the sea looks.