Lumpy Waters 2012!

Lumpy Waters Symposium this autumn was a really nice progression in the 4 years it's been held.  I saw significant evolution in not only the choice of courses offered, but also in the caliber of coaching, and in skill level of the students (including the most accurate self-assessment and matching of students to courses).  Paul Kuthe keeps raising the bar--showing us all how to get a large group of folks even more psyched than they already are, helping everyone find the right fit regarding classes, juggling coaches and courses as weather and swell change, and keeping a stellar attitude the whole time.  Well done (yet again!), Paul...

As logic would dictate, one can only luck out with the weather for so long....and the previous two symposiums had coincided with nearly ideal conditions.  This year, the week prior to Lumpy Waters, I was fortunate enough to be asked to coach at BCU Week, held in various venues near Astoria, Or.  When I showed up, the first nasty low-pressure system of the year had arrived--after nearly 80 days of zero precipitation.  Judging by the small lakes in the campsites, we were all in for a wet one.  Lumpy was no exception--we had big, sloppy swells and winds from the SW to NW at small-craft advisory strength.

With good timing and positioning, some were able to surf distances like that separating Jeff Laxier and Matt Palmariello.

The coaches adapted with smooth grace, and the students at the event were very understanding of the need to keep things safe and fun for everyone.  It appears that a combination of 1) A small number of students being involved in preventable incidents (and not wanting to make the same mistakes twice), and 2) a general increase in personal responsibility and risk assessment process, have contributed to an improvement in group "mode of operation" within the general paddling community.  I'm hoping I won't be proved wrong on this through the winter and coming season.

Out of necessity, we utilized some new venues (at least to me), which were quite good--and will be used in future events, even in better conditions.  I coached two days of "Long Boat Surfing" with both Sean Morely and Rob Avery, a short boat surfing session with Chris Bensch and Cate Hawthorne, and closed with one day of co-coaching/leading a short journey near the mouth of Tillamook Bay.  We found some fabulous rock-gardening around some rocks near the entrance, and had a great time on the way back running some slots and pourovers.  Nobody really wanted the paddling to end, and it didn't--for some....

Everun' cep' me...

A post-symposium tradition seems to have developed of the coaches (who can stay an extra day) getting together for an evening of libations and blowing off some steam, followed by a short day of rock-gardening and surf, before everyone must get traveling home.  Conditions this year were a bit nastier than in the last few, but out we went anyway.  Good friend and fellow coach,  Jeff Laxier, was celebrating his birthday today, and what better a way to celebrate than going boating!

We had fun doing a little rock gardening, but swell size and direction were pretty inconsistent, the short period also made timing a bit more tricky.  Gusty winds from the southwest damped down the spectator  appeal--we didn't really hang around any on spot, but paddled around the two outermost islands, through some caves, and then we found ourselves at a very challenging steep arette angled steeply into the swell.  A rock exists about 6-10 feet (depending on swell size) out from the arette.  The swell would sort of wash through, but would be lateral just as often, and when so,  it was washing/breaking through from either side.  Sean ran it on the fly, seeing a beautiful window, and timed it perfectly.  Then the rest of us held position while Jeff L. waited patiently for his moment.  He kept at it, almost going for it a couple of times, but clearly treating it with respect.  I wasn't even considering running it, but had fun close to Jeff as the big sets came through.

On bigger sets, one could catch a decent surge through here towards viewer.

We found a fun reefy zone on the S. side of the rocks, with some fun breaks allowing us to short for maybe 80 feet max, over the rest of the reef.  Patience was required waiting for a swell of the right size and direction, and we were catching them very close to the exposed rock.

Bowling up behind Nick Scoville.

At this point, we had a short group chat, and ended up splitting up into two pods, one going up the headland a short bit for more rocks, and a few of us heading back to the launch area to do some surfing.

Rob Yates has hooking some good waves, it was difficult to exit off at the end of the ride, we all got creamed every so often.

We had some meaty rides, which were short and usually ended well if you could make a hasty exit off the wave.  I didn't always succeed, and got a bit of a thrashing for it.

We all had a good time, but the weather was such that it lessened our sadness to get on the road and head home.

Northward bound...

I returned from a wonderful visit with my sister and her whole family (as well as my dad) in New Mexico, to cold, hard rain in the San Juans.  After a couple of emotionally rough days, where I seriously questioned my own sanity, it was time for action.

I drove south and stayed with some good friends Mathew, Bridgette, and Ryder in Seattle.  Mathew was a teammate for our own two hands, a 500-mile expedition around Alaska's Kenai Pennisula,  and has been one of my favorite paddling cohorts on outer coast surf trips and Skookumchuck.  That evening, we attended a brilliant presentation and slide show by Shawna and Leon of Body Boat Blade. They essentially told the story of how they each developed their passion for the natural world, a life of outdoor travel, and the adventure of kayaking.  A huge message from that evening, for me, was the importance of creating "memorable moments" in life, and that there will never be the "perfect" time to set off on an adventure.  The very definition of adventure implies risk, yet so often, we try to remove all element of risk from our lives.  Instead of excitement at the challenge of facing unknowns, we sterilize and insulate ourselves from truly living.  Life insurance--an oxymoron if I ever heard one!  I left their presentation inspired, and feeling fortunate that they have been very influential my life.

The next day was cold and clear...Mathew had sent me off with enough calories to keep me warm into the frosty evening, and off I went to catch the ferry to Bainbridge Island where Odette waited.  Rob Avery of Kayak Kraft kindly loaned me the use of a canoe, and I began the day-long process of canoeing all of my stuff out to the boat (which was safely tethered to an offshore floating dock), and removing and transporting a lot of stuff off the boat (all of which I figured I could live without) on each return trip.  I suppose I did a fair amount of cleaning and tidying as well, and wondered why a person would ever need 20 forks on a 34-foot trimaran....  

My first night aboard was COLD.  Thick frost covered the decks the next morning, and it blew fresh from the north all day and all night.  By lighting up about 6 candles down below, I was able to raise the temperature an extra 10 degrees, but fantasies of a cozy heater distracted me from my dreams.  Reality...  I slept in a sleeping bag complete with long underwear, down jacket and puffy pants, socks, and a hat that night.

Despite the cold, I was SO appreciative of the fact that it was also clear!  The sun lifted my spirits, and all of the work I was doing would have been twice as difficult in the rain.

Day two was spent making sure that all relevant systems for the journey north were operable.  Sails up and down, fairleads checked and sheets run, gas in tanks, batteries charged, engine started, anchor etc. unshipped and hauled, running lights, depth sounder, vhf radio all got the green light, which alleviated some worry for me.  I also spent some time with the charts entering GPS waypoints for the next day's route, and figuring out some alternative plans should something prevent us from making Port Townsend by dark.  A friend had connected me with a great guy named Thrash, who turned out to be anything but.  Josh (aka Thrash) has spent a LOT of time at sea, and has no big ego about it--a wonderful combination.  He felt imminently reliable to not only do what I might ask, but also be aware of our environment, and to offer intelligent opinions.  We ended up powering straight into the 12-15 knot wind for most of the day, which went against everything I believe in, except for my desire to get back to Orcas during a narrow weather window, and to try to get my life going again ASAP!  We did have a magical little while when we could fall off a bit, thus sailed close-hauled in a diminishing wind with the full main and working jib.  It was short, but it was enough of a taste of how good of a sailboat Odette can be, that I became even more excited about dialing her in...

My first impression of sailing Odette were positive.  After sorting out a mild fiasco with headsail halyard (using the loooong boathook), which had gotten wrapped around the port spreader  (and was holding the head of the working jib hostage about half way up the head stay!), we were off at a solid 7-8 knots, with little leeway (once I remembered to drop the  7-foot daggerboard!).

Odette in Port Townsend

I was relieved to make the Port Townsend marina by nightfall..it had just gotten dark enough to warrant turning on the running lights.  Before entering the harbor, we did some low-speed maneuvering tests to see what kind of turning radius and such we could achieve...

After successfully tying up, I treated Josh to a post-trip beer (what a big spender!) and we had  a pleasant conversation while enjoying our brew at the  The Port Townsend Brewing Company.  We parted ways, and I headed back to Odette, with a pleasant feeling of accomplishment for a successful day's journey, one fractional step closer in the realization of the Sail 2 Surf project.

The next day, my good friend Jay joined me for the leg from Port Townsend to Orcas Island.  Jay arrived around 1:00 on that Sunday, and since it was too late to leave for the islands, we used the time to soak in as much PT culture and  good food as we could. After an incredibly rad lunch at the Fountain Cafe, where they served me a HUGE stout in the giant bottle (well....OK) and a monstrous grilled sandwich, we got some groceries, took a brief nap, and I entered some more waypoints in the GPS, and did a little preparatory chart work for the next day's leg.

At lunch, I had spied a gig sheet for a band Solvents that we had just missed.  "Too bad",  I thought; I had really gotten into one c.d. of theirs which I had, titled "Madonica".  A few short minutes later, I saw that they were playing that night at the Undertown coffee house, and we easily made a plan to go.  Jay is one of the most spontaneous and enthusiastic livers-of-life that I know, and it was a joy to spend that afternoon with him, and appreciate his whole-hearted engagement with the experience.  We had a great evening listening to music....from Solvents, to Arrington de Dionyoso with his self-invented resonant insruments and throat-singing prowess, to Dan Higgs...ex-punk-rocker turned quasi-folk banjo ethereal...I cried during a certain song by Solvents, "When I Saw My Reflection"--it was played with so much heart and is the first song of theirs I ever heard.

We had a great time, drank some more local beer, and found it more expedient to walk back to the boat over a taxi...crashing blissfully in the midst of a gale with the aid of beer and ear plugs.  Around 4 in the morning the wind died down...

Jay at the helm off of Partridge Point

We got up at about 5:30, made some thermoses of hat water and miso soup, made the long trek to the restroom, and we were off at first light!  We motored in the light aftermath of the previous night's gale, then headed north for Pt. Wilson, where we encountered a light but steady west wind.  Up with the genoa and main, off with the engine!  We were feeling the full ebb sucking us north, and on a close hauled course and making 8-9 knots with ease.  But the wind was dying with each passing minute, and by the time we were off Pt. Partridge, the sea was glass.  We resigned ourselves to motoring towards the entrance of San Juan Channel, passing close to Smith Island.

Matt staying warm thanks to O.R. and Kokatat!

As we neared Iceberg Pt, on Lopez, I was jolted out of a mild trance by a huge dorsal fin surfacing a couple hundred yards to the east.  It was a male Orca, and we slowed down to watch him surface a number of times.  Following a quarter mile behind was a small pod of what appeared to be all females.  Such a cool sight, and it felt somewhat auspicious to me.

Full-on wide angle..shortly after this we saw a pod of orcas.

pretty soon, we were feeling the push of the flood channeling us into San Juan Channel.  This is a favorite kayaking are for me, and I look forward to sailing back there in the spring to access some good tidal race surfing.

As we passed north through the channel, a light easterly filled our sails and we whisked towards Orcas at 5-7 knots with barely a ripple on the water.  These moments were perhaps my favorite of the trip--th light was beautiful, Jay was smiling, and the boat's movement through the ripples felt and sounded magical.

Moored in Deer Harbor, home.  I've since moved, as this spot is a bit rough in southerlies...

In another hour, we were close to Deer Harbor, where we experimented with the ability to sail under the main alone.  Seems quite possible, but one needs to be conscious of increasing momentum prior to tacking by falling off for a short burst.  It'll be interesting to experiment further in stronger wind.  I really want to be able to sail this boat without the use of an engine, so much will need to tried and learned.  I also will build a yuloh (Chinese sculling oar) to be used close inboard on the port wing deck.

SAIL 2 SURF project!

I am excited to share my plans for an adventure-based project to begin spring, 2013.  The Sail 2 Surf project will access prime, high-energy paddling destinations with standing waves, strong currents, surf, and rock-gardening features.  This access will be attained via sailing a trimaran (carrying the team, kayaks,  and all equipment) in an attempt to burn 0 gallons of fossil fuel.  Our route will circumnavigate Vancouver Island and , after looking for surf to the north, will include Baja with the onset of fall.

I was passionately pursuing this dream last winter, and had made progress enough to make an offer on a high-performance catamaran.  The deal fell through---someone had beat me to it, as this was an exceptional boat and price.  But the idea just wouldn't leave me alone, at least not for long...

In the late summer of 2012, many elements of my life, whose trajectory had seemed predictable and comforting, shifted in unexpected ways.  As I continued (and continue) to emerge through these changes, I thought hard about how I wanted to direct my energy, and utilize my strengths, in the immediate future.

One evening as I perused craigslist for trimarans and catamarans , I came across an ad for a modified Locke Crowther designed, Buccaneer 33 trimaran for sale.  The price had come down in the year I had kept my eyes on this boat.  I realized that if the owner accepted my offer, I'd end up with a great boat for the Sail 2 Surf project, and be able to live aboard during the winter to save money and consequently dedicate more of every dollar earned towards the project.

Odette at first glance

The next series of blog posts will chronicle my life as I adjust to living aboard the trimaran, working a new job to save money for fitting out the boat, and continue to recalibrate my sense of who I may be or become in this time of change and possibility.

Stern view

Paddling with New Friends

One of the things I appreciate most about boating is the wonderful people I end up meeting and sharing on-water time with.

Alec and Sharon Boyd-Peshkin are a couple who live, coach,  and paddle in the Great Lakes area.  Their region sounds very interesting and beautiful--indeed, I'm looking forward to experiencing it myself sometime.  Check out their blog "have kayaks, will travel".  These two are also the epitome of health and vitality (as well as thoughtful and intelligent coaches) and I found being in their presence very inspiring...

I was fortunate enough to share a couple of my favorite spots with these two while they were on Orcas, visiting and coaching--a sort of "working vacation".

I had been keeping tabs on the weather in the E. Straits of Juan De Fuca, and the westerly wind coupled with an evening flood promised some good, fun conditions and evening light.  When we arrived at our put-in, we had the added bonus of connecting with good friend, Colin Doherty, who lives on Lopez Is.  We had a great time catching some very surfable waves, then took the long way back to our put-in, paddling coastline  brought to life by the crashing waves and slanting rays of the setting sun.  It was a treat to have everything (and everyone) line up to create a great 4 hours of kayaking.

The zone.  Photo by Alec Boyd.

"Anatomy" of the overfalls.  Photo by Alec.

Sharon ferry's over to the best waves.  Photo by Alec.

"Free your ends, and your mind will follow!"  Photo by Alec.

Privileged moment...

Our other excursion was about as far in the opposite direction as you can get in the San Juan's.  We went on a "lunch paddle" out to Patos Is., visited the lighthouse, ate a great picnic, and continued on along the steep and shaded north shore of Sucia, riding the gentle ebb back to North beach.

Goodbye, Alec and Sharon...safe travels to you both!

This whole side of the island was the upstream "cushion" on the ebb.

Some texture off of Alden Pt.

Djuna in Yoga Journal

Djuna in her element. Tofino.

Yes!  That's right, Djuna is in Yoga Journal magazine this month.   I'm so full of admiration for her and the hard work, dedication, and passion that has led to another great opportunity for her.

I recently did the sequence myself on a warm ferry-ride to the mainland.  It feels really good, warms up a lot of the muscles we use in paddle sports, and will increase flexibility and strength,  reducing the likelihood of injury.

Try it for yourself!  Watersports yoga sequence  And look for her on the cover in September's issue!

Djuna at Skookumchuck.

Edge, Trim, Angle...

As Ryan and I untie the boats and load up what we need for the day, I feel like a little kid at the fishing hole--trying to tie on my fly with excited hands.  But really, there's no rush--I'm just eager; the wind is cranking, and predicted to build all day, and we're ready to catch some waves!

Ready to launch!

Yesterday, the outlook was for westerlies to blow up to 30 knots.  We both doubted that it would get that strong, but knew it would blow hard enough to create some significant wind waves to interact with some of the the strongest currents for the season.

As I boarded the ferry for San Juan Island, I noted how all of the boats anchored had shifted their angle to point to the southwest--a good sign.  I could also see some clearing skies and cumulous clouds indicative of a cold front passing through our area--another good sign.  As the ferry made its way south to more open water, whitecaps began to appear, and I smiled thinking of the conditions we would likely meet today.


Now, we launch off of San Juan island and begin an easy ferry glide to the west, surfing small wind waves, and checking transits as the angle of the current changes.  Fifteen minutes earlier, we could see Shawna and Leon of BodyBoatBlade working with some students as the current continues to build.  It was them that first introduced me to paddling in water like this and I smile thinking back to their encouragement and feedback which was instrumental in my development as a paddler.  But alas, we've got further to go, so we continue our crossing for another few miles to reach our destination.

Once we've crossed, it's sort of a "park-and-play" situation.  Ryan and I feel confident we'll be able to return to our landing, so we stash much of our gear on the beach under a tarp weighted with rocks.  Having a boat which is relatively unladen makes things easier on our bodies for initiating quick changes of direction, and a little less dangerous in the event of a collision.  What we do carry, though, are essential safety items:  Tow belts, VHF radios, storm cag, accessible water and snacks, first aid kit, and inflated float-bags in bow and stern compartments of our kayaks.

Ryan drops in.  The waves are almost twice as big as they look, because you can't see the troughs!

Our biggest assets for avoiding a serious incident are our skills, and our awareness of the risks we are taking by being here.  Since performing a rescue in today's conditions is downright dangerous, a reliable roll on both sides is mandatory; because it would be very difficult to maintain contact with a boat if one of us swims, we're dressed to endure a long period in the water.

Ryan pivots on the crest and catches the next wave.

Risk Assessment:  Conditions are getting big, and there are two of us.  Greatest hazards are 1)  collision with each other and, 2)  Shoulder injury when getting dropped off the steep waves.

To mitigate #1, We give each other ample room, knowing that the "radius of influence" we can be moved by the breaking water, and the speeds generated by catching these waves require lots of space.  We constantly monitor each other's position, predicting the trajectory of our boats, and are ready to initiate a lot of edge, some powerful reverse strokes, or a capsize should we need to slow down or change direction.  We also try to stay in different zones of the overfalls, separated by a tongue of faster moving water.  Of course, we're wearing helmets, our boats carry inflated float-bags in the hatches (in the event of a lost hatch cover or hole from collision), and we wear whitewater PFD's which offer better spinal and rib protection against impact.  Most of all, we avoid catching waves if there is any chance of collision.

Thanks P&H!  Surfing the Airies

For #2,  We pay very close attention to keeping elbows in, tucking low when being hit by heavy sections of the breaking wave, and transferring from a low brace to a protected high brace as soon as the active elbow begins to rise towards the shoulder.  Sometimes I shift my grip a bit to reduce the shaft length (lever arm) on the active blade side of my paddle, which just reduces the forces on my body as I get tossed by a wave--a nice advantage to a straight shaft.  We also are mindful of tucking forward if we get pitchpoled to protect the head and spine--the back deck is not the place to be when getting thrown around.  We've warmed up on the paddle over, and try to use the forces of the water to our advantage, rather than muscle against it.

Ryan's head gives scale

Additionally, we take frequent breaks in an eddy to rest, snack (blood sugar) and hydrate.  This ensures that we are in our best form when the inevitable capsize and roll (or rolls!) occur.  Should one of usbecome injured or swim, we need to have the reserves to help with a rescue, a contact tow, or to move a swimmer, without their boat,  to safety .

We have a blast watching each other in this aerated water.  I get a great pop-out, and Ryan styles a brilliant recovery from a sudden backsurf/drop off a huge peak.

I'm ultra-present in this incredible moment and zone, loving by body's ability to do what it knows how to do, while the more technical side of my brain breaks it down into pieces:  I'm moving fast diagonally to my right, looking at the wave forming, projecting myself into the exact position that will put the forward half of my boat into the foam pile.  OK, now I'm there, and my body instantly makes the choice between edging and low bracing into the wave trimmed forward, or rotating and looking down-wave, planting my down-wave blade, with only a slight edge towards the trough, and trimming aft to free my bow to be pushed by broken water.  My body chooses the latter, and makes subtle adjustments to edge, trim, and blade pressure to rocket down the wave face, while I scan my field of vision for the whereabouts of Ryan.

Plunging into the trough

We wisely reserve ample energy to get back against the wind and enjoy the chaos of an impressive convergent zone which is creating 4-foot "witches hats"--the tops getting blown off by the strong wind.

We land feeling completely alive, well-worked, yet beaming from the energy of all that moving water; we high-five on the beach, fortunate to have been able to participate in another of nature's rare offerings.

Multi-day in the P&H Airies

I needed to get out for an overnight.  The physical distance between myself and Djuna, with each of us questioning our game-plan for the next year (and more), had left us both feeling the heaviness of missing each other's love and support.  I wanted to clear my head, and access the perspective which often comes with being surrounded by space and beauty, as well as travel on the water;  lighten up a little, I suppose.

I decided to load up my P&H Airies with the gear I'd need for a couple of days, and head to Patos Island.

I wanted to use the Airies because I foresee myself and others using the boat to get to surfing destinations which may be days away from a launch spot.  Once there, we unload the boat, set up base-camp, then enjoy the attributes of a surfable "play boat",  instead of a larger expedition-style sea kayak.  I was curious to experience paddling the boat loaded for a few days to see how it behaved and moved through the water.

Loading everything I needed wasn't a problem, and there was room for a couple more cubic feet of food and clothing as would be needed on a longer adventure.  I paddled out and set up for a 5-mile crossing with the current, but against the wind and chop.  Of course, the boat behaved differently being so laden, and the conditions would have been slow for any boat due to the steep, pitching seas.  That said, I made decent time and paddled the 7 miles in about 1 hour, 45 minutes.  Average of 4 knots, and that included a small play at an overfalls created by West Bank.

All the stuff for a couple of days...

West Bank is one of my favorite features in the area--it's a submerged reef which is a cool navigational exercise to find because it isn't visible from the surface.  At the intersection of two "lines of position" (in this case, a line connecting pt. Doughty and Little Patos crosses another line between Skipjack Is. and
Little Sucia) lies the shallowest part of the reef, which is like an underwater Sucia Is. in shape.  Kelp vibrates and flows with the current, sea birds abound, and harbor seals capitalize on the abundance of food which the reef attracts.

After a brief play, I continued my slight ferry angle to Patos, setting up camp at the most quiet site available.  I was famished, so after a good meal and delicious beer, I went for a walk to take in the sunset and test out a new camera I recently purchased.

It's a Canon Powershot D-20,  with HD Video, and 12.1 megapixels.  Of course, it's waterproof (to 33ft!) enough to take on shallow dives, shockproof, and there is virtually no lag time between pressing the shutter button and capturing the image--a huge asset for capturing action.  I had heard good things from other boaters about its predecessor, and am loving this high-quality next-generation.

I happened to find a sweet little nook on the north side of the island and, after getting comfortable, witnessed one of the most spectacular cloud-morphs while the setting sun painted the whole scene a vibrant, glowing red.  There came from the cloud an "otherworldy" shape which looked to me like a cross between a small mushroom cloud, and some sort of sentient being.  It's shape shifted and changed by the second, adding to my entertainment.

You never know what you'll see when you're on the water...

Focusing on the bizarre and beautiful...

I loved the wave-forms on the leading edge...

The more time we spend out in nature, really living closer to it, the more likely we are to witness these rare and beautiful moments.  It might be a striking sunset, it could be that one moment when an eagle swoops down out of a tree to snatch a mink swimming for shore (and the mink's narrow escape from death) or any other number of short-lived yet unforgettable events which become highlighted memories inspiring gratitude for where we are.

The next morning I rose early as I had a class to teach.  I decided to employ the ebb-superhighway for the paddle back, which utilizes the strong currents which exist along a bathymetric line north of these three islands.  Though this route increases the distance travelled, the stronger currents reduce the paddling time significantly, and it's an enjoyable strategy.  Via this route I travelled the almost 8.5 miles in 1.5 hours paddling at a motivated pace but not racing.  That's averaging almost 5.8 knots.

Overall, my conclusions about using the Airies for a basecamp-style short expedition is that it is entirely do-able.  Though not the fastest boat while loaded (due to rocker and short length), one would be thankful to paddle it back out to the rock gardens and point breaks often found in out-of-the-way places, play for a day, to return to a camp shared with like-minded friends.  This point has been proven by Sean Morely, using a Delphin 155, on a 4-day expedition around the Lost Coast last summer.  Read about it here:  Lost Coast 2011

Sean Morley surfing the Delphin 155 while transiting the Lost Coast, CA