Category: Article Archive

In the beginning, there was wood. For untold centuries before kayaking became a leisure sport, Aleut and Greenland natives made paddles from driftwood, and lived or died by the quality of these tools. When Europeans began to dabble in kayaking as recreation, a very few learned directly from the Greenlanders about the design of the native paddle and the technique for its use.

As kayaks were modified, made collapsible for easy transport and reshaped for use on rivers, the recreational paddle was shaped with wide blades on long shafts, to look and function more like the oars and canoe paddles already familiar to the Europeans. As kayaking spread across the non-Arctic world, the “Euro” paddle dominated as the mainstream type.

Eventually, wood was also replaced. Once composite manufacturers began to win the lightweight game, fiberglass took over the market through mass production and promises of maintenance-free durability. Perhaps there were few regrets. On one occasion, I paddled with a decades-old wooden whitewater paddle. Made mostly of ash, with metal guards riveted over the tips of the blades, and badly in need of varnish, it was big, powerful, ugly and tiring. However, not all wooden paddles were so rough-hewn and awkward. Indeed, many Olympic racers never abandoned wood, retaining light spruce paddles until the advent of carbon fiber composites.

A couple of years ago, I wasn’t in love with any of the fiberglass paddles I had used, and none of them was much to look at. I decided to hazard a fling with a wooden paddle, a Bending Branches Tailwind, the wide-blade cousin of the Journey reviewed here. The wooden paddle looked better, the proportions seemed right, the weight was close enough to glass paddles, and it seemed strong enough. The slight extra weight saved me a lot of money, and the retailer had an iron-clad reputation for refunds, so what did I have to lose?

Trying out the Tailwind changed my course with paddles; I now paddle almost exclusively with wooden paddles. The Tailwind has pulled me through a 23-mile day at the end of a one-week trip, splashed through several days of surfing 3- to 5-foot beach breakers, and even bounced down a few Class II and III river runs. Its buoyant blade boosted my roll after many surfing errors, and braced me up on the river with reassuring authority. This less-than-gentle use has left it with a few scratches in the finish and scuffs on the edges, but it needs only a few minutes with sandpaper and a paintbrush to be restored to near-new condition.

Today, as kayaking booms in popularity, there are niches for all types of paddles. Among Euro-style blade paddles, the allure of wood remains. Fiberglass is common, and while carbon fiber has cachet, it lacks the visual beauty of natural wood. Wood appeals by feel and sound as well, with a warm surface under the hand and a mellow tone when the paddle touches a non-liquid surface.

Wood comes in a bewildering variety of species, each with unique properties. Woods are loosely divided into hardwoods and softwoods, but this division is simply based on whether the tree is a broadleaf or a conifer. While some hardwoods, such as oak or hickory, are very hard and strong, and some softwoods, such as red or white cedar, are rather soft and weak, this classification can be misleading. Long-leaf pine and Douglas fir, for example, though classified as softwoods, are stronger and harder than alder and the poplars, which are hardwoods. In addition, properties such as strength and stiffness vary from species to species. Ash and spruce are rather stiff for their weight, so they are frequently used in paddle shafts if maximum stiffness is desired, while red cedar might be used if a very light and more flexible shaft is the goal.

The strength of a wooden paddle depends on many factors, among them, how much and what type of wood is used, and in what direction it will be stressed. Since wood has a comparatively low density—wood floats, fiberglass sinks—a greater volume of it can be used to good advantage in paddles: A thick, flat piece of wood is much stiffer than a thin, flat piece of fiberglass of the same weight. Most glass paddle blades may achieve stiffness through their curved shapes, but the result is a blade that is not as buoyant and that doesn’t produce as much lift during sculling or rolling as a smoothly sculpted wooden blade.

Wood is not a uniform material. It is a naturally occurring composite and, like many synthetic composites, its strengths differ in various directions. Generally, wood is strongest in tension, somewhat less strong in compression, and rather weak in shear or when split along the grain. A hollow paddle shaft laminated from parallel strips of wood may be stiffer out on the water than a tube of woven fiberglass of the same weight, but it is much more easily damaged if crushed—say, when stepped on in a dark campsite. This weakness is somewhat offset by taking advantage of the lower density of wood by using it in greater thickness: a solid laminate can be used for greater resistance to damage with only a moderate weight penalty.

Beyond the many variables of wood as a material for engineering, the differing colors and grain patterns of woods make paddle design as much an art as a science.

Conditions of Testing

I did rolling and bracing trials with nine wooden Euro-style paddles in a plastic whitewater slalom racing kayak in a swimming pool. I tested all paddles in calm conditions in a Dagger Magellan (22.5″ beam). I also tested all paddles except the Malone, Mitchell and Sawyer (which were not available at that phase of testing) while paddling the Magellan or a Mariner II (21.5″ beam) in a 1025 knot wind with reflected waves and clapotis of one to one-and-a-half feet, or wind waves of one to two feet. Neither boat had a rudder or skeg. I made the assessments of each paddle’s gunwale clearance in regard to the wider boat.

Since personal preferences and physical build can unavoidably color reviews, for the record, I am 6’1″ and 155 pounds, and I like a large grip, but a small enough blade so that I can maintain a fairly high stroke rate. For long-distance paddling, I prefer a paddle that has a low swing weight and that works well with a low-angle stroke, so that my arms need be lifted as little as possible. Low swing weight is more significant to me than overall paddle weight, because the effort required to move the blades through the cycle of the stroke consumes more energy than merely supporting the paddle. For harder conditions, I want a paddle that is as short as possible for a strong, high-angle stroke, and that works well in sweep rolling.

The Bending Branches Journey looks like the hybrid of a Greenland paddle and a more typical Euro blade. The shaft is laminated from 18 layers of basswood, a light hardwood. The long blades are laminated basswood and alder. The satin polyurethane finish coat seemed a bit thin, and it had a few rough spots and quite a few surface particles. The finish was not too slippery; it gave a secure feel with a light grip on the elliptical shaft, even though the shaft is slightly smaller than I prefer. The ferrule fit is very good, with little discernible wobble, yet it’s not so tight that the ferrule seems likely to be jammed by the first trace of grit. Inside the ferrule, the end of the shaft appeared to be well coated with resin, but I could see a few gaps in the resin between the wood and the ferrule. With its long blades and a shaft that is thickest where the wood and ferrule meet, the swing weight feels quite light, without the paddle feeling overly flexible.

In a straightforward stroke, I could feel more-than-average slippage of the blade through the water, although the blade entered the water cleanly without dragging much air below the surface (ventilation), which would loosen the paddle’s grip on the water. While the slippage might handicap initial acceleration, it leads to a very comfortable cruising stroke at a high or low angle. An outward-slicing stroke seemed a bit more powerful. The only time I felt any flutter of the blade in the water was during the first two or three strokes of a fast start. Even when I paid little attention to technique, the entry was quiet and there was little splash. Despite the short shaft, the blades cleared the gunwales easily.

Sweep strokes were adequately powerful for steering. In moderate wind and choppy waves, the paddle felt comfortable. It seemed unaffected by wind, and rolled easily into braces. During short rides on wind waves, my stern-rudder strokes were quite effective if I took care to get the entire blade in the water. In the un-feathered position, the paddle could be used with the more horizontal Greenland-style stroke.

When performing sculling braces and sweep rolls in the pool, the Journey felt the best of the paddles tested. The airfoil blade is buoyant and lifted strongly, whether at the surface or submerged. Water flowed over the blade with minimal splashing or separation. The shaft profile allowed easy control of blade angle and, in a light grip, the blade remained steady and predictable. Support for downward braces or C-to-C rolls was adequate.

Overall, the Journey seems to be a fine choice for an inexpensive, general touring paddle. While its overall weight, 39 ounces, is on the high side, its low swing weight and good feel with a low-angle stroke should minimize fatigue at a cruising pace. Although it lacks the acceleration needed for surfing, it’s a playful paddle for rolling and other technical strokes.

The Cricket Mini Spoon has a slim, elegant look. The shaft is black willow over western red cedar, while the blades are cedar with cherry edges and tip veneers. The joint between the blade and shaft is finely carved. A Dynel edge further protects the tip, and the blades are surfaced with 2-oz. fiberglass. The cloth has no pinholes, but the weave is rather irregularly filled, with some areas appearing to have an excess of resin. The carbon ferrule had a barely noticeable wobble, but it was from the same manufacturer as the ferrule on another paddle that was more snug. A layer each of fiberglass and black heat-shrink tubing covers the joint between ferrule and wood. When bent, the shaft feels rather flexible, but springy. Little flex was visible in the blades. The nice glossy varnish finish had a few small runs and rough spots, but not much embedded dust. Although the varnish felt less slippery than polyurethane, Cricket ships a scrap of sandpaper with each paddle and encourages users to slightly roughen the surfaces where their hands lie for an even better grip. This would be good advice for almost any varnished paddle.

With forward strokes, I was unable to get an entry without a bit of a slapping sound and some air driven in at the catch, although a paddling partner achieved a clean entry. There was some slipping of the slim blade. Low-angle strokes worked well, which, combined with the light weight, suggests that the Cricket would shine at the end of a long day of cruising. Sweep strokes were noticeably less effective than with the larger-bladed paddles. Little water found its way up the shaft, despite the lack of drip rings.

When I was sculling, the water flowing across the blade separated from the blade with a lot of splashing, but the paddle gave adequate support for bracing. This was the only paddle tested with which I missed two sweep rolls. C-to-C rolls felt more reliable. Extended-paddle (Palawta) sweep rolls were easy, but the paddle flexed dramatically.

The Cricket seems as if it would be intolerant of serious abuse, but if treated well its understated good looks and cruising performance would be among the reasons you’d appreciate it at the end of a long day.

The Grey Owl Tempest has subtle styling and good performance. The overall construction of this paddle is very good. The shaft is made of ash and spruce, and the mid-sized blades are laminated from a variety of hardwoods and edged with urethane at the tip. The semi-gloss finish contained a moderate amount of dust, and did not fill some of the deepest wood grain completely. The long carbon-composite ferrule fit very well, with almost no play, yet it’s easy to break it down. The overall weight is quite good, and its swing weight feels acceptably light. I liked the balance between its weight and its feel of strength.

The blade profile gave excellent gunwale clearance, despite the short length of this paddle. With a little care, the entry was quiet and unventilated. High- and low-angle forward strokes were quite good. Steering strokes and braces were effective, even in choppy conditions. While the elliptical shaft gave good control, it was slightly small for me and slippery, encouraging an overly tight grip.

The Tempest gave well-above-average support in sculling and sweep rolling, especially considering the moderate blade area and short length. The thick blade seemed to contribute to lift. Vertical braces and C-to-C rolls were good for the blade size, but not quite as impressive. The paddle felt slightly ponderous while setting up for rolls, but this may have been caused, in part, by a less-than-familiar feather angle.

Given the Tempest’s light weight and good performance, its modest price represents an excellent value. The user could give the shaft a couple of extra coats of varnish, then a light sanding, for an easier grip, and have a paddle that meets all of my criteria, at a price that equally nice fiberglass can’t touch. Grey Owl’s slogan, “Life is too short to play with ugly toys,” gets my hearty agreement!

The Malone Black Harbor combines good looks, price and weight into an attractive compromise, especially if you prefer large blades. The shafts are basswood vertically laminated with dyed birch veneers; the blades are basswood edged with rock maple and tipped with polycarbonate. The clarity of the grain and its alignment looked very good. The paddle flexed considerably when pressed against a hard surface, but the flex was well distributed between the shaft and blade. The finish was excellent and virtually dust-free, with the gloss interrupted only by a couple of laminates with unusually porous grain. The fit of the ferrule was snug enough to be free of noticeable wobble, second only to the Mitchell paddle. The ferrule’s unusually large button was very easy to release.

The paddle seemed lighter than suggested by its actual weight. I was inclined to use a high-angle, aggressive stroke. Avoiding a noisy splash required a careful entry, which was rewarded with negligible ventilation of the blade. Although the blade seemed to plant strongly, my stroke felt slightly short, possibly due to some flexing of the shaft. A lower-angle stroke felt acceptable, although, on a few unusually careless entries, the blade tried to turn parallel to the surface. Gunwale clearance was good for such large blades on a short shaft.
The smaller-than-average shaft and slick finish encouraged me to over-grip the shaft, tiring my hands.
Slightly sanding the grip area would have allowed a more relaxed grip.

Sweep strokes felt quite effective, despite the short length, although I had to be careful to bury the blade fully. In sculling braces, the flow of water across the blade separated and made for a lot of splashing, but the support was good enough to keep the blade at the surface. Rolls felt effective, and the paddle was easy to maneuver underwater.

If Malone’s combination of a small-diameter shaft and large blades is appealing to you, the Black Harbor is a handsome paddle for the price.

The Mitchell Sea Blade is beautiful, but burly. The thick, flat blades are laminated from cedar and spruce, surfaced with a tightly woven fiberglass cloth, and edged with urethane at the tip. The shaft is a vertical laminate of spruce and ash, giving a particularly harmonious appearance at the throat. The ferrule lacked any detectable wobble between the halves. The quality of the materials appears to be excellent. The wood grain is clear and straight. Other than a rough area at one side of the ferrule, the quality of the polyurethane finish was excellent. The weave of the glass cloth was very well and uniformly filled, and there were few dust particles.

The Sea Blade felt stiff and powerful, but it was not a joy to paddle. Its weight falls near the high end of the range of paddles tested; its high swing weight made the paddle feel heavy, discouraging a high-angle stroke. A low stroke lacked the sweet feel of some of the narrower blades. I could not get an entry without a fairly loud splash, and the square inside corner of the blades reduced the clearance alongside the kayak when setting up for the catch, despite a shaft already a bit longer than I prefer. Even without drip rings fitted, little water ran down the shaft to my hands.

Sweep strokes with this paddle were very good. The Mitchell turned the boat 180° with one stroke fewer than most of the other paddles tested, with a very steady and predictable feel while edging. The grip is a bit slippery, due to the high-gloss finish, but it could be sanded to make it more secure in the hand.

The big blades of the Mitchell were easy to control during sculling, and support in sweep rolls was good, but the paddle felt ponderous during the underwater set-up.

The Mitchell would be an excellent choice for beach surfing, as it feels as though only the most extreme abuse could break it. Unfortunately, this strength comes with a weight of 41 oz., more than I believe most paddlers would prefer for touring.

The Nimbus Inskip is nice looking, but rather rough hewn.

The joint between the ash/spruce shaft and the spruce/mahogany blade is the chunkiest of those tested, and the thick edges of the blade are nearly square. The blade is surfaced with 6-oz. fiberglass cloth, with many large pinholes in the resin. The semi-gloss varnish has a slightly slick feel and many embedded dust particles. Inside the ferrule, a partially hollow shaft is seen in which bare wood appears to be visible. (All other two-piece paddles tested had solid epoxy coating the end of the shaft.) The Nimbus was the heaviest paddle tested.

The blade had a shape that cleared the gunwale well. I could have used a paddle at least five centimeters shorter. It was easy to get a quiet entry and an unventilated stroke, and I didn’t detect any flutter.

In the pool, the thick throat of the blade splashed noisily. Sculling was effective if I pitched the blade just above parallel to the water and swept quickly, but it took a couple of unexpected dives. This was the most difficult paddle with which to scull. Its lift in sweep rolls was below average.

Although made well enough, the Nimbus is overshadowed by the overall performance of the other paddles and, at 46 oz., it is the heaviest of the paddles reviewed.

The Redfish Blackback is a striking custom model with a luxury price tag. The shaft is a hollow laminate of black maple, and the blades are maple with ash insets and edging. Complex construction details abound in the hollow shaft, the well-faired joint between shaft and blade, and the mirror-image matched grain pattern of the blades.

Both blades and shaft are epoxy laminated with a tightly woven fiberglass cloth and finished with a cross-linked clear coat. The Blackback’s blades are the thinnest of the paddles tested. Strips of carbon fiber run along the front and back of the shaft and down the centers of each blade face. When I bent the paddle against the floor, the shaft appeared quite stiff, while the blades flexed noticeably. In the water the flexibility of the blades wasn’t noticeable; the Blackback had a strong plant. The strip of carbon fiber appeared to be made up of two pieces butted together, instead of a single continuous piece. (The paddle tested was a test model. Normally the carbon fiber is continuous .) The finish had few very small areas of resin starvation. Otherwise, the finish quality was superb. The cloth weave was very well filled, and there were very few pinholes or surface particles.

Forward strokes with the Blackback have a racy feel. The paddle’s light weight encourages a high shaft angle, and its broad blades plant solidly in the water. It was easy to make a quiet entry with very little splash or ventilation. The lower edge of the blade is well shaped to clear the gunwale, despite the large blades and short overall length. I didn’t detect any flutter. When I was fresh, I enjoyed starting hard and sprinting up to my best speed, then stopping to do it again. However, after a couple of hours of paddling while going upwind, I wished for a blade size with a little less bite, to spread the effort out over more strokes.

Sweep strokes felt stable, but steering in wind felt a bit less positive than I expected, perhaps due to the 220 cm length. A 230 cm paddle might have been better for steering. Although the thick elliptical shaft felt comfortable, the paddle was much too slippery for my grip to feel really secure. A light sanding of the grip area would provide a less slippery surface.

The Blackback performed braces and rolls very well. While the blade angle was fairly critical in sweep rolls, the large oval shaft made it easy to control. In a sculling brace the paddle remained on the surface. This paddle offered strong support in a C-to-C roll.

This is a custom paddle, so the purchaser can request almost any feature. I would ask only for a slightly smaller blade and a tackier varnish.

The Sawyer Cedar Sea Feather is unusual in both appearance and length. The shaft is vertically laminated from five layers of western red cedar, with ash reinforcements scarfed into the end of each shaft where it meets the ferrule. The shafts are shaped rather irregularly, with ridges that fall against different parts of each hand, even when unfeathered. The blade is cedar veneer glued to the shaft and covered with a very loosely woven fiberglass cloth. The blade is flat, and the shaft joins the blade without the smooth transition of the other, more sculpted, blades. While the cloth is well saturated, the spaces in the weave form small, but noticeable, pits. The full perimeter of the blade is edged in Dynel. The back of the blade has strips of carbon fiber under the cloth, and is painted black to hide them from sight. The stainless-steel ferrule has little wobble and assembles easily. The finish is a semi-glossy varnish with little imbedded dust, and a better grip for the hand than most. The flexibility of both the blade and shaft are above average, so the paddle is better suited to relaxed cruising than to more aggressive paddling. When in use, the dark blades made this the least visible paddle of those reviewed.

The Cedar Sea Feather paddle was a moderate weight, and the swing weight was moderately light. Gunwale clearance was adequate. The entry was the loudest of the paddles tested. By using a very long entry, I could avoid ventilating the blade. The blade fluttered just a little during hard starts. Low-angle strokes were adequate, but not inspiring. Drip rings deflected a great deal of water running off the blades, and more spray than average was tossed into the air.

This paddle gave adequate support for sculling and sweep rolling. When sculling, even if I slashed carelessly at the water surface, the blade seemed to automatically find a good angle. At the beginning of sweep rolls, the paddle felt heavy, as if it were dragging a lot of water along behind the blade. C-to-C rolls, however, felt good.

Sawyer manufactures a one-piece Cedar Sea Feather that is 225 g. (8 oz.) lighter than the two-piece version tested here. At that weight, I would expect that paddlers of doubles or very wide singles would be the most satisfied with this unusually long paddle. An optional 254 cm version is the longest commercially available wooden paddle I know of.

Inuit kayaks have been around for millennia, but the story of one particular kayak built by Emmanuelle Korniliussen of Greenland starts in 1937 when Harald Drever, a young geologist from Edinburgh, Scotland, visited Ubekendt Ejland (Unknown Island). Ubekendt is located in Umanak Fjord on the west coast of Greenland more than 300 miles north of the Arctic Circle. Harald was attracted to the island by its unique geology, but he was much more than a visiting academic. During his near 40-year association with the island he did much to assist the community and established a close relationship with the villagers in Igdlorssuit. He learned kayaking skills from them, including rolling, and had his own kayak. He also put up a trophy for an annual kayak race for Greenlanders from Igdlorssuit to Uummannaq, an open sea crossing of some 50 miles. When he left Greenland he took his kayak to Scotland, where it was used to train others in skills he had learned.

Harald later became a professor at St. Andrews University in Scotland. In 1955 he met Kenneth Taylor, a kayaker and a student at Glasgow University, and persuaded him to combine his studies with his paddling interests and go to Igdlorssuit to investigate the Greenland kayak and its place in Inuit culture. (Ken and I were members of the Scottish Hostellers’ Canoe Club. The club had its origins in the late 1930s and after World War II was probably the only club in Britain to specialize in sea paddling. Club members developed their own design of sea kayak, compiled standards for flotation, life jackets and more, years before others in the UK.)
So, in 1959 Ken spent three months at Igdlorssuit. Very few paddlers in Scotland could roll, but Ken had spent a lot of time the previous winter in an unheated pool learning the skill and this aided in the villagers’ acceptance of him. He paddled with the seal-catchers, learning a great deal about their kayaks, hunting equipment and methods in the process. Interestingly, although he was allowed to use his Scottish touring kayak on the hunts, he had to keep well to the rear because of the noise made by his European-style paddles. The seal-catchers loved to borrow his paddles and go for high-speed sprints, but not when there were seals about! While Ken was in Igdlorssuit, Emmanuelle Korniliussen—the last kayak builder in the village—built him a sealskin-covered kayak, complete with hunting equipment. Ken was to have another kayak built for the respected American kayak enthusiast John D. Heath. However, there was insufficient sealskin for both kayaks. John had to make do with a frame. (Following John’s death the frame has been in the care of Greg Stamer of QAJAQ USA. John visited Greenland on a number of occasions and was revered by the Greenlanders, who called him “Grandfather.” I had the honor of calling John a friend for more than 40 years.)

In the spring of 1960, following his return to Scotland, Ken gave a demonstration of rolling his Greenland kayak and harpoon throwing to the Hostellers. Those of us in the club who could squeeze into his kayak got to paddle it. I was one of the lucky ones, although donning the wet, smelly, sealskin tuilik, or paddling jacket, was not so enchanting.

I had been designing and building my own kayaks for seven years, and while I was well pleased with the performance of my latest design, I was very impressed with the handling of Ken’s boat. I should not have been surprised that my experimenting with kayak design would compare rather poorly against the thousands of years of development that had gone into the kayak from Igdlorssuit. My experience with Ken’s kayak when I was 20 years of age led to a lifelong interest in Inuit kayaks, especially those from Greenland. My first rudimentary lines drawing of the Igdlorssuit kayak became the first plan in the “Project Eskimo” series established in 1961 in conjunction with the British magazine Canoeing.

I had been active in the Scottish paddling scene since my teens and was closely involved in setting up the Scottish Canoe Association Coaching Scheme, which subsequently joined with that of the British Canoe Union. Through this connection I met a young Gordon Brown, now one of the leading sea paddling coaches in the UK. For quite some time we have shared an interest in Greenland kayaking; he made his first Greenland-style paddle 17 years ago. In 2003 Gordon suggested that the logical extension to my interest in Inuit kayaks would be to visit Greenland. I had never seriously considered such a trip as it was beyond my financial circumstances. However, at his suggestion I applied to the Winston Churchill Memorial Trust, which provides some 100 traveling fellowships annually, and was fortunate to be awarded one of only two fellowships in a canoeing-related field for 2004.

So in July of 2004 I set off to Greenland on a four-week project titled “The Inuit Origins of Modern Recreational Sea Kayaks.” It was to be a pilgrimage to the birthplace of Ken’s kayak and an investigation into design changes in Greenland kayaks and paddles since their creation. Gordon accompanied me on the first phase of the project, paddling from Uummannaq to Igdlorssuit and back. An overnight stop scheduled between flights at Ilulissat turned into a three-day layover and we finally arrived in Uummannaq at Saturday lunchtime. Our kayaks had been shipped out in advance, but the warehouse was closed for the day. However, the helpful man at the heliport phoned the manager to come and open up for us. My boat had been damaged in several places and we spent the rest of the afternoon repairing it and sorting gear.

The following noon the fog lifted sufficiently and allowed us to see Storøen (Sagdliaruseq), an island four miles east of Uummannaq, and confirm a compass heading. We were off, paddling among Greenland ice for the first time. We passed hundreds of bergs on our way to the small island of Saattut where we camped at the site of an old settlement. From camp we walked west to the village, which appeared to be expanding with new houses and a very smart school that was decorated with large images of whales, sea birds and seals. Less endearing was the inescapable and constant noise emanating from the multitude of roaming sled dogs. We examined four kayaks in the village before we returned to our campsite and quiet.

Fog was hanging in the morning air as we set off island-hopping to Agpat where we skirted the southern coast before crossing to Sagleq some two miles to the west. At the northern end of the island the fog was dense but by then we had taken sufficient bearings to confirm the magnetic variation, which was over 40 degrees west. We set off into the gloom for Qeqertat, an abandoned settlement on a relatively small island about 1.5 miles distant. Nearing our destination we encountered a large number of sled dogs on a rocky islet. From their demeanor they obviously expected a bearer of food to disembark from any approaching craft. Unable to oblige, we stayed resolutely in our kayaks. Soon after landing at Qeqertat we were safely nestled into our sleeping bags.

In the morning the fog had gone and we could see the dramatic cliffs we had paddled under yesterday, unaware of what had towered unseen more than 3,000 feet above us. Around our camp we found the remains of old round and square style winter houses, traditional graves marked by stone cairns and a small cemetery on the hill containing 60 to 100 graves, many of them children’s.

Sunshine accompanied us on the crossing to a lunch stop on the end of Alfred Wegener Peninsula. As we progressed westward across Kangerdluarssuk Fjord, conditions deteriorated, so we landed near its mouth to await an improvement. We lit a fire to warm our toes, but our wait was in vain and the temporary respite became an overnight camp on the shingle.

Next morning, improved conditions merited an early rise and we were on the water before 7 A.M. A following wind pushed us to the corner of Upernivik and into Igdlorssuit Sound. The nine-mile crossing to Ubekendt Ejland started in good conditions, but by the time our bows touched the shore it was blowing Force 6 from the southwest and it was raining. After 33 miles paddling that day we were glad to be ashore, all the more so as we were now within yards of where Emmanuelle Korniliussen built Ken Taylor’s kayak 45 years earlier. It was fitting that the fiberglass kayaks that carried us were the latest in a long line of modern sea kayaks to be based on that particular craft.

The assembled group who had watched us arrive acknowledged our “Hallo” with a smile and an echoing “Allo.” Our common vocabulary ended there. Elizabeth Fleischer, a newly arrived teacher at the village school and the only person on the island who could speak English, arranged for us to hire the small village hall for our stay. This was luxury for us with central heating and a fully equipped kitchen. Elizabeth said that there was no hunting by kayak now and that recreational paddling had been severely affected by low morale in the village brought on by an accident in the spring of the previous year when a snowmobile towing a boat broke through the sea ice and four lives were lost. We visited the cemetery and were taken aback by the sight of brightly colored flowers still in place since the interment of the four, some 16 months previously. It soon dawned on us that the flowers were plastic.

We gave Elizabeth a leaflet I had prepared about Ken’s visit and his connection to Harald Drever. She promised to ask around and see if anyone in the village remembered the two men. Later she asked us about Harald Drever as her school was named Harald’s School in his honor. She led us to her office where a photograph of an oilskin-clad figure and a shield hung above the door. It was Harald Drever and the shield of St. Andrews University.

Elizabeth learned that several descendants of Emmanuelle lived on the island: two sons, two grandsons and several great grandchildren. She arranged visits to the homes of a son, Hendrik (Indarinnquaq) Korniliussen and a grandson, Edward (Ilvarti). Emmanuelle had been the last kayak builder on the island. The only kayak built since his death was a child’s kayak made in 2002 by the other son Jurgen (Juulut). Grandson Edward builds excellent model kayaks, sleds and harpoon sets, all of which we carefully examined along with his collection of harpoon heads. The model kayaks have the gunwale boards raised in the way of the masik (the deck beam supporting the forward end of the cockpit) as do most of the full-sized kayaks seen in the village, a feature not seen elsewhere. Edward’s house is built on the spot where Ken Taylor camped in 1959, and Edward has a kayak in the basement which he bought secondhand but has never paddled. In the evening Edward appeared at our “lodging” and without a common language save pencil and paper. By sketching, we had two hours of “conversation” and found out many things about his life, including that his outboard motor had suffered a broken driveshaft and that we were invited to join him at his house for coffee the following morning.

Edward showed us his 19-foot fiberglass fishing boat, fishing gear, workshop and the kayak in the basement. The rest of the afternoon was spent exploring the village and examining the nine other kayaks found there. One was the last built by Emmanuelle and had lain on its rack ever since its owner, a seal-catcher, had died. All were in varying stages of decay except one belonging to a man from Niaqornat on the south side of Umanak Fjord. It was a fine example, complete with hunting gear.

Early the following morning we rose and were quickly on the water. The return crossing of the Sund was unhurried on a calm sea in pleasant morning sunshine. The wind rose strongly toward the end of the day’s paddle and we landed at almost the same spot we had camped at four days earlier, on the west side of Kangerdluarssuk Fjord. No shingle bed this time, but a bit of greenery just vacated by an arctic fox that was not inclined to share it with us. After a good meal we sat at the fire before turning in at about 11 P.M.

As the morning showed no improvement, a long rest made up for the previous day’s exertion A wrecked sledge provided fuel for a pleasant evening fire, enjoyed all the more for the view of glaciers and mountains rising over 6,000 feet from the opposite side of the fjord some four miles away.

The following morning brought calm seas and we resumed our journey, arriving by mid afternoon at Uvkusigssat. It was a busy place with a fish processing plant and seemed to be expanding with a high percentage of new houses. We examined five kayaks, none of which appeared to be in use. One extreme example was nearly 23 feet long and featured an unusually extended, deep and narrow bow. We made camp at the old abandoned settlement of Akuliaruseq, with the usual cheering fire to accompany the late evening coffee.

Near the Silardleq Glacier we noticed the words “1966 Tobias Jensen” scraped in the lichen on the rock surface. It brought home to us just how fragile the environment is in these northern latitudes, that the lichen scraped off the rock 38 years before had not yet grown back. The last six miles back to Uummannaq were on calm seas but with much more ice about. The harbor was almost completely choked with smaller chunks, the larger bergs having grounded farther out. At Uummannaq we packed the kayaks for shipment home, Gordon headed back to Copenhagen and I flew to Sisimiut to continue my research. Most of my three-day sojourn there was spent at the kayak club watching Maligiag Padilla, the young Greenland kayaking champion, building a kayak. It was the 29th he had built and his ninth that year. At the museum were the remains of a very old kayak from about 1650 to 1700. One gunwale was scarfed and the very thin deck beams had not been tenoned through the gunwales but had sat in blind holes. The paddle was very short and slender, the shaft being longer in relation to the blades than any other I had seen in Greenland. Another, less ancient kayak of the Avasisaartoq type with a sharply upturned stern was minus its cockpit and all the ribs had collapsed. Outside the museum was a modern kayak, different from the local types but similar to ones seen later at Nuuk. Maligiag said that John Petersen, a previous kayak champion, had built it.

My next stop was in Nuuk, the capital of Greenland. At the National Museum I was pleased to see the Pearyland Umiak had been returned from Copenhagen where it was taken for reconstruction after being found in 1949 and sawn into bits for transport. It is estimated to be nearly 600 years old!

In addition to the kayaks we saw in Greenland’s museums, we viewed nearly 80 kayaks in Greenland. Most were canvas-covered, some only in frame and a very few skin-covered. The newer ones usually were associated with kayak clubs. The older ones that had once been used for hunting were mostly in a bad state, abandoned on kayak stands and left to rot. Some were still in use for recreational paddling, but many of the deck fittings used for hunting were missing.

As in most cultures, readily available materials in Greenland had found their way into traditional crafts. Plastic strips are often used now for kayak ribs. This, I believe, has led to a change in the cross section of some craft, as the plastic tends to take up a semicircular shape, compared with the traditional wooden ribs, which could be set to a flatter profile. This could explain why many of the kayaks we saw that had plastic ribs had a deeper V to the bottom than recorded in older examples. Canvas is now more easily obtained than sealskin and is the most common covering.

Throughout the trip, local variations in the basic kayak shape were evident. For instance, the kayaks being built by Maligiaq in Sisimiut have more symmetry in profile than those being built in Nuuk. In both places the use of imported timber, such as ash and oak, has led to heavier ribs placed farther apart, compared to the more numerous slender split sapling ribs of the older examples. In two of the modern kayaks examined, an additional stringer had been added between the keel and the chine, giving greater support to the covering and a more rounded cross-section. One of these had much shorter overhangs at the ends, giving a longer waterline for the overall length and in turn faster calm water speed, all other things being equal.

Generally, the newer kayaks had longer waterlines, reduced rocker and a deeper cross section than the old hunting craft, making them less maneuverable but more suitable for racing at the national championships. Another type of kayak has evolved from the traditional hunting kayak. It is shorter with a very low freeboard, made for ease of rolling in competition. To retain traditional values, all kayaks used by Greenlanders in the championships must be skin (or canvas) on frame, contain no metal fastenings, be fitted with deck straps and be propelled by narrow-bladed Greenland paddles.

The Importance of Ken’s Kayak
When Ken brought his kayak to Scotland, no commercial designs were available in the UK for sea-touring kayaks. Most paddlers made do with general-purpose boats while a small number built their own. So I took photographs and used these as the basis for the hull shape of my next touring kayak and for a double version, the need for which arose from other youthful desires in the shape of a young lady of close acquaintance. Both of these designs proved popular within the Scottish sea-paddling scene and were adopted by the plans service of Canoeing magazine. Examples were built worldwide and some are still in use today.

In 1964 Ken moved to the United States and left his kayak in the care of my paddling buddy, the late Joe Reid, and myself. We carefully measured it and I produced a drawing, which [See drawing on p. 50] has given rise to a large number of semi-replicas, designs for do-it-yourself builders, at least four commercial Greenland-style hard-chined kayaks and a number of round bilge designs, all with a connection to the Igdlorssuit kayak. Such designs, from various parts of the world, now total nearly 50! The Anas Acuta is one of the better-known offspring. In the 1960s, English paddler Geoffrey Blackford could not find a suitable commercial sea kayak, nor a design to build one, so I gave him a copy of my drawing of Ken’s kayak. He lengthened the kayak by 9.75 inches, altered the ends to suit plywood construction and fitted a deck and cockpit to accommodate a larger paddler. The Anas Acuta was an instant success and Carel Quaife, one-time British Canoe Union development officer, produced a mold for a fiberglass version. Alan Byde, a popular kayak designer, coach and author, later refined the mold. Frank Goodman of Valley Canoe Products took up commercial production of the Anas under license from Blackford, Quaife and Byde.

A large number of Inuit kayaks, mostly from Greenland, have been brought to Britain over many years, but none have had the impact on the design of modern recreational sea kayaks that Ken Taylor’s has. Only his has spawned abundant derivatives and continues to do so. A very few who paddle such kayaks have heard of Ken Taylor and his kayak, but hardly any know of Emmanuelle Korniliussen from the village of Igdlorssuit. I think he finally deserves to be recognized.

We’re pleased to present our second triennial Readers Choice awards. We’ve made a few changes since our inaugural awards in 2005, including a few new categories and a wider variety of kayak awards. We also went from paper ballots included with the magazine to electronic voting through our website. That brought us a record number of responses and much faster and more accurate tabulation of the results.

After we determined our winners, we brought each piece of kayaking equipment in for a brief review. Some of the gear we’ve reviewed in previous issues of Sea Kayaker, some we tried for the first time. With all of the winners, it was easy to see why they were selected. Our readers and web viewers know good gear.
Congratulations to all of the manufacturers who won the newest Readers Choice awards and thanks to all of you who took the time to participate in our survey.

Best Day/Weekend Touring Kayak
Tempest by Wilderness Systems

The Tempest 170 is the middle child of a family of three Tempests that includes a 165 and a 180 (all available in plastic or “Pro” composite versions). The Tempest 170 is 17’ long and 22” wide. The designers intended the Tempest line to be well suited to paddlers from the “entry-level enthusiast up to the advanced paddler looking for a seaworthy rough-conditions boat.” The cockpit offers solid connection with the boat through adjustable thigh braces with a good hook to them, snug hip bracing, a seat that can be adjusted to provide good leg support, solid foot braces and a back band that sits low where it doesn’t restrict the paddler’s range of motion. The deck around the cockpit is well clear of paddling and low in the back to provide clearance for laybacks. The stability of the Tempest 170 is very good and the secondary stability is excellent, providing solid support for edging. The Tempest moves along nicely at a cruising pace: I could sustain 4.5 knots with ease. A retractable skeg tunes the Tempest for windy conditions.

The Tempest 170 has three cargo compartments sealed with KajakSport hatches. It has more than enough room for a weekend’s worth of gear. On those outings where you’re just out for the day, the fit and maneuverability of the Tempest 170 make it a pleasure to paddle.

$3,200 (fiberglass) or $1,600 (plastic) or $3,750 (Kevlar)
Wilderness Systems
www.wildernesssystems.com

Best Roughwater Playboat
Romany by Nigel Dennis Kayaks

Designed in 1993, the Romany was meant for kayaking in rough water. At 16 feet long with moderately raked bow and stern, it has a fairly short waterline for good maneuverability. On flat water it topped out at 5 knots, a respectable speed for a boat of its length, and slipped along at nearly 4 knots with little effort.

The Romany has good initial stability that even novice paddlers should find comforting, and the secondary stability is very solid for aggressive kayakers who’ll edge the boat for quick maneuvering. The keyhole cockpit has good clearance for getting in and out and the molded thigh-brace flanges make for good control of the kayak. The cockpit sits low around the waist and has a very solid connection to the boat, with great freedom of movement from the hips up. The low aft deck is perfect for doing a full layback.

With the skeg retracted, the Romany tracks well and carves tight turns when edged. The bulkhead aft of the seat is placed at the aft edge of the coaming for easy and complete emptying of the cockpit after a wet exit. The impression I had of the Romany was that it was a kayak that had no idiosyncrasies I’d have to get used to. It was ready for whatever I’d paddle it into.

The Romany is available in two alternate configurations: The Romany S for larger paddlers and the Romany LV for smaller paddlers.

$3,395
Nigel Dennis Kayaks
www.seakayakinguk.com

Best Sit-on-Top Kayak
Tarpon 120 by Wilderness Systems

The Tarpon 120 is one of five kayaks in the line of Tarpon sit-on-top kayaks ranging in length from 10’ to 16’. The 120 is 12’ long and 28” wide. It is available in rotomolded plastic at 60 pounds or in thermoformed plastic (pictured here) at 43 pounds. Both versions have a list capacity of 350 pounds. With my 210 pounds aboard I still had ½” of “freeboard” showing in the scuppers, so I was happily seated in a dry cockpit. The seat was quite comfortable and the foot braces were solid. The stability of the Tarpon 120 is very good, making a good platform for fishing or photography. Some SOTs are wide enough to stand up in, but the Tarpon 120 isn’t wide enough for that. The tradeoff for higher stability, of course, is a wider beam and the 28” beam of the Tarpon 120 isn’t so wide that it got in the way of paddling. Underway the Tarpon tracked well, and, as I expected, was quite maneuverable. It was hard to get the Tarpon pushed up to nearly 5 knots, but it’s not a boat meant for speed: most kayakers fish with a rod and reel, not a harpoon. It coasts along easily at 3.5 to 4 knots. The cargo well in the stern (or tank well if you’re a SCUBA diver) has good storage capacity and a hatch forward of the seat provides access to small items in a recess in the deck.

$1,450 (Ultralite) or $850 (rotomolded plastic)
Wilderness Systems
www.wildernesssystems.com

Best Extended Touring Kayak
Explorer by Nigel Dennis Kayaks

The Explorer is the Romany’s younger sister. At 17’ 8” long and 21 ½” wide it is 20” longer but no wider. The longer hull gives the Explorer 20 percent more volume for cargo and a bit more speed. With a top end of 6.25 knots, I found it a half knot faster than the Romany. The Explorer has more footroom and legroom for larger paddlers but the keyhole cockpit has the same secure fit as the Romany and the same ease of entry and exit. The aft deck is similarly low to provide full clearance for a head-to-the-deck layback; it’s an excellent boat for rolling.

The stability profile is very good—the initial and the secondary stability inspire confidence. I could get the coaming dipped in the water and still feel solid support. With an edged turn the Explorer is quite maneuverable and still tracks well, even with its skeg retracted. The three cargo compartments are accessed through round VCP hatch covers: 10” covers for the fore and aft compartments and 7 ½” for the day compartment.

The Explorer has the capacity for carrying a lot of gear but it doesn’t have the feel of a large boat. Without a load of camping equipment aboard, it’s a lively kayak that makes day paddling a pleasure.

$2,999
Nigel Dennis Kayaks
www.seakayakinguk.com

Best Open Water Racing Kayak
18X by Epic Kayaks

It’s easy to see why our readers liked the 18X for open water racing. It’s fast. I could sprint at 7.3 knots and even get a peek at 7.5 knots on my GPS. At my top speed the 18X still felt “slippery” and could take more power. It didn’t go noticeably out of trim or start throwing a big wake.

The 18X doesn’t give up on the comforts and functions of a touring kayak in pursuit of speed. It has pretty good initial stability without the twitchiness often associated with fast hulls. The secondary stability is solid enough for confident edging.

There is plenty of room for a comfortable and secure fit in the cockpit, and I could get locked into thigh braces for edging or bring my knees to the center of the cockpit opening to add leg drive and hip rotation to the stroke. The 18’ long 18X naturally tracks well and even responds to edging with a broad but useful carved turn. A pivoting section of the stern keeps the rudder yoke and cables safer and tidily concealed under a small hatch.

The seat has enough contour to be comfortable and the absence of padding makes hip rotation practical. There is plenty of space for cargo aboard—the stern compartment is low but long—and generous hatch openings to ease packing. All of my capsize drills—wet exits, rolls, reenter and roll, cowboy scramble—went well. If you have the paddling power and technique, the 18X will be a good way to put them to use and get you places very quickly.

$3,995 (Ultra) or $2,995 (Performance)
Epic Kayaks
www.epickayaks.com

Best Woman’s Touring Kayak
Eliza by Necky Kayaks

The Eliza was specifically designed to provide women with an appropriately sized kayak that would have a comfortable cockpit. With a 15’ 3” length and a 21” beam, the Eliza is meant to fit paddlers up to about 150 pounds. With a fairly short waterline, the Eliza doesn’t have a high top end speed (though the 5.5 knots I was able to hit after I squeezed my 200-plus-pound frame into the cockpit is quite respectable) but it is important to make a distinction between a fast kayak and an easily driven kayak. No one paddles a touring kayak at its top speed for long. Most of the time we paddle at a pace that is comfortable or that allows us to keep up with our paddling companions. By making the Eliza comparatively short and narrow, Necky reduced its wetted surface, the principal factor in determining resistance at low speeds. The result is a kayak that takes less effort to propel at cruising speeds. By keeping the decks low, the Eliza designers kept windage to a minimum to ease the handling of the kayak in a blow. To better fit female paddlers, the Eliza’s cockpit was made shorter and wider than is typical. The seat is quite long and provides good support under the thighs.

With the Eliza, smaller paddlers—particularly women—have a boat that fits well and won’t leave them struggling to keep up with their companions.

The Eliza also comes in a rotomolded plastic (SK Dec. ‘07). It is a half inch longer and an inch wider than the composite version and equipped with a rudder instead of a skeg.

$2,599 (composite) or $1,349 (polymer)
Necky Kayaks
www.neckykayaks.com

Best Take-Apart Kayak
Khatsalano by Feathercraft

Feathercraft once again wins the award for the best folder, but it is the Khatsalano, instead of the K1 Expedition, that brought in the most votes. The construction of the Khatsalano is similar: aluminum tubing longitudinals supported by polyethylene frames and covered with Duratec hull and Polytec fabric deck.

The Khatsalano is a compact boat. The decks are low and the footroom limited, but that keeps the windage low. The Khatsalano tracks well and is very maneuverable when edged. The initial stability isn’t so twitchy that you can’t enjoy taking a break, and secondary stability is solid when you’re edging. It has a good turn of speed with an easy 4-knot cruising speed and a top end close to 6 knots. The snug fit in the cockpit makes rolling the Khatsalano a breeze. The aluminum tubes that serve as thigh braces cross over the meat of the thighs and are quite comfortable in spite of their small diameter. The hull has an enjoyable flexibility in waves that softens the impact of rough water and offers a connection with the water absent in rigid-hulled kayaks.

The Khatsalano is appropriately recommended by the manufacturer for intermediate to advanced paddlers. The extra stability that might make a beginner more comfortable has been traded for better performance that kayakers with good paddling skills will appreciate.

$5,501.69 or $5,694.73 (Khatsalano-S)
Feathercraft
www.feathercraft.com

Best Kit Sea Kayak
Chesapeake 17 by Chesapeake Light Craft

The Chesapeake 17 is a single-chined stitch-and-glue kayak with an arched deck and a keyhole cockpit. We reviewed the Chesapeake 17 in  our June 1999 issue, two years after the  boat was introduced to the market. The kayak is made of 4 mm okoume plywood and sheathed in fiberglass and epoxy. The weight of a Chesapeake 17 is going to vary according to the builder but should finish up around  45 pounds, quite light for a large kayak designed for paddlers from 180 to 250 pounds. There is plenty of room for big paddlers in the cockpit and for plenty of cruising gear in the cargo compartments. With its 17’ length and 24” beam the Chesapeake 17, according to one of our reviewers, “feels big but it is nimble enough to be a fun performer.” Another reviewer “enjoyed paddling the Chesapeake and found I covered long distances easily. It was fun playing around in rough, confused waters.”  The kit includes written instructions, a 60-minute DVD on the building process, pre-cut plywood parts, deck rigging, foot braces, epoxy and fiberglass, seat, and back band. At a price under $800, the Chesapeake 17 is an affordable way to get on the water in a versatile touring kayak.

$790
Chesapeake Light Craft
www.clcboats.com

Best Inflatable Kayak
Helios by Innova Kayaks

If the rule about boat size is true—the bigger the boat, the less often it gets used—the Helios is in for a lot of use. It is compact enough when deflated to be easily carried in the trunk of a car and small and light enough when inflated to be hauled to and paddled in places few other vessels could go. Audrey Sutherland proved that small inflatable kayaks like the Helios are capable of long coastal voyages, but I suspect most Helios owners like it for the short outings: fishing small lakes, touring along the coast and drifting down lazy rivers.

The Helios is sturdily built but it fits in a small backpack and its 24-pound weight is easy to carry. It goes from folded up to afloat in not much more than five minutes. The 10’ 2” Helios is very maneuverable and while its stern can be outfitted with a rudder, it’s not really needed. It can improve tracking, but I’d leave it off until conditions required its use to keep on course.

The Helios is a very comfortable boat to be in. The stability is great and the inflated air chambers are as comfortable as any living room sofa. There’s an inflatable cushion anchored by a strap to the bottom of the boat that serves as a foot brace. Remove the foot brace and you can slide forward and lie down in the cockpit. Add a quiet pond on a warm afternoon and you have the makings for a relaxing escape from the daily grind.

$849
Innova Kayaks
www.innovakayak.com

Best Double Kayak
Passat by Seaward Kayaks

We reviewed the Passat in 1999, and it was a hit with the reviewers: “The Passat is a rewarding boat to paddle. It had none of the bulky feel of many other doubles. It is a very comfortable boat to paddle in rough water and is a well thought-out and sensibly equipped double.” “This kayak will kick the pants off of other doubles.”

The 22’ Passat is long and lean. Its 26” beam is narrow in comparison to other doubles, where a beam of 28” to 30” is typical. The narrower beam gives the Passat a bit less stability than wider doubles, but it still has a feeling of stability greater than that of most singles. The narrow beam creates good clearance for paddling—especially for the stern paddler who sits just at the widest part of the kayak—and feels very much like paddling a single. The distance between the cockpits keeps paddles from clashing. On the Passat G3 (pictured) the cockpits are even farther apart, making room for a bulkheaded cargo or kid compartment in the middle of the kayak. The Passat will make good headway in sloppy water and a pair of strong paddlers can get the Passat moving at 6.5 knots. Loping along at a more relaxed pace, it is easy to sustain 5 knots. The Passat is a capable kayak that will, as one of our reviewers put it, “tempt a pair of motivated paddlers to perfect tandem rolls, braces and other advanced kayaking skills.”

$4,850 or $5,085 (Passat G3)
Seaward Kayaks
www.seawardkayaks.com

Best Racing Paddle
Mid Wing by Epic Kayaks

Epic’s Mid Wing is a repeat winner, having tied for first place in 2005 in the “Best High-End Paddle.” The Mid Wing is beautifully made. The weave of the carbon fiber blades is neatly laid and the shaft catches sunlight like polished tiger’s eye. The shaft is slightly oval in the area of the grips and very comfortable in the hands. Like all wing paddles, the Mid Wing requires a different paddling technique: a high stroke with the shaft approaching vertical and a lateral movement of the blade through the water. It is fairly easy to get the Mid Wing blades into the water cleanly and when you do the water almost feels thicker, like warm honey. With the Mid Wing’s solid purchase in the water, you need to use good torso rotation and even hip drive to put it to good use.

The ferrule allows the blades to be set to any degree of feather and the shaft length to be adjusted over a ten-centimeter range. The carrying case provided with the paddle has a tethered wrench in it to help loosen the ferrule if your hands are too wet to get a good grip on it.

The Mid Wing has found favor among cruising kayakers. Freya Hoffmeister used one on her record-setting circumnavigation of New Zealand’s South Island. She lost the paddle during a very rough landing but it was later recovered by Paul Caffyn (SK, Oct. ‘08). Paul must have liked the paddle because he took it with him to Greenland.

$449
Epic Kayaks
www.epickayaks.com

Best Traditional Paddle
Klatwa by Feathercraft

The majority of the survey responses to traditional paddle were to homemade Greenland paddles, but the most votes for a single manufactured traditional paddle were cast for Feathercraft’s Klatwa. It’s a tricky thing to market a paddle that is typically the province of home builders. It has to avoid having potential buyers reckon they could make it themselves, and it has to perform exceptionally well. The Klatwa does well on both counts. The tapered inner laminate of ash, the splined blade edges and the fiberglass (carbon) ferrule all encourage the kayaker to pull out his credit card rather than his spokeshave. The red-cedar blades are shaped to a fine edge that is only practical because of the ash reinforcing splines. The blades are thin and light, and while those aren’t the qualities I look for in a paddle for Greenland-style rolling, they are very well suited for paddling. I was very pleasantly surprised by how well the Klatwa moved a kayak. The blades have an immaculate entry and exit. Using the Greenland stroke—driving the paddle edgewise in and out of the water—generates plenty of power. It was an extraordinary thing to be paddling at full power with little more than a slight whisper of noise. The water was hardly stirred. The Klatwa may have the look of a traditional paddle but it performs like a Stealth jet.

$318.42
Feathercraft
www.feathercraft.com

Best Everyday Paddle
Camano by Werner Paddles

The Camano is a repeat winner for our best everyday paddle category. The Camano is a classic, now approaching the end of its second decade on the market. It is designed for a relaxed low-angle stroke. The Camano’s dihedral shape keeps the paddle stable in the water and gives the blade strength with a minimal amount of materials. Its asymmetrical shape keeps the blade well-balanced for a low-angle stroke. TheCamano1.jpg medium-sized blade and soft touch at the catch is easy on the arms and shoulders, so for those paddlers with joint problems the Camano will help ease the strain of paddling. It can provide the power cruiser’s need for the long haul without the impact and strain. A 220 cm Camano weighs in at just over 27 ounces, a weight that won’t wear you out.

Werner’s ferrule allows the blades to be set in increments of 15 degrees from unfeathered to 90 degrees. The ferrule is locked and unlocked with a simple push button, so you won’t need to struggle with an over-tightened threaded collar.
If you like to kayak at a relaxed pace and take in the scenery, the Camano’s light touch in your hands will let you enjoy the ride.

$265 (straight shaft) or $340 (neutral bent shaft)
Werner Paddles
www.wernerpaddles.com

Best Performance Touring Paddle
Ikelos by Werner Paddles

Werner Paddles markets their Ikelos as: “an aggressive High Angle design for well conditioned and experienced paddlers who want a durable paddle with a powerful catch and smooth linking strokes.” The Ikelos is certainly all of that. Its foam-cored blade has a rounded ridge on the power face and a smooth curved back face. The blade goes cleanly into the water not only with a high-angle stroke, but even if you relax a bit and use a lower angle on the paddle. Once planted, the 710-sq cm blade has a good purchase on the water—not quite at the level of a wing paddle, but I could certainly feel the pull across my back.

The blade braces well. It has plenty of area for support and the faces slide easily across the water. Because the low brace is a commonly used  technique for maintaining stability while under way, it’s good that the Ikelos offers so little drag with its back face in a low brace position. Sculling is slick and effective with the Ikelos: It generates thrust while offering little resistance to moving edgewise through the water.

The ferrule offers feathering adjustments in increments of 15 degrees. My normal angle of feather is about 65 degrees, but I had no trouble adapting to 60 degrees. The bent shaft version we tried weighed in at 26.5 ounces (straight shaft is 2.5 ounces lighter). It was light in the hands but not lightweight when it came to power and versatility.

$380 (straight shaft) or $455 (neutral bent shaft)
Werner Paddles
www.wernerpaddles.com

Best Wetsuit
Farmer John by NRS

The Farmer John wetsuit from Northwest River Supply (NRS) is another repeat Readers Choice winner. The Farmer John is a versatile piece of immersion wear and NRS’s most popular wetsuit. The 3-mm neoprene has fabric facings inside and out and titanium added to the adhesive between layers to reflect heat back to the wearer. The armholes are cut large to prevent chafe and the ankles have zippers to make the Farmer John easier to pull on over large feet and seal over neoprene booties. The seams are glued and sewn on the outside only so the inside is smooth. The long front zipper is backed with a neoprene flap to retard water seeping through the zip. Reinforced knees and seat resist wear where the pressure on the suit is the highest. The reinforcement at the knees doesn’t extend into the area where most thigh braces are so there’s not extra bulk where you need a closer fit. At $115, you get a good margin of safety for paddling cold water at an economical price.

$115
NRS
www.nrsweb.com

Best Drysuit
Meridian by Kokatat

Kokotat designed the Meridian as a drysuit for paddlers. The waist has an overskirt that covers the spray skirt to create a more effective seal for keeping water out of the kayak. The seat and knees are reinforced to provide durability for the parts of the suit that are in contact with the cockpit. The latex gaskets at the neck and wrists are protected by stretch fabric punch-through cuffs. The Gore-Tex fabric’s breathability is an essential quality in a drysuit that keeps perspiration from saturating the insulating layers worn under the suit. The seams are all sealed with tape fused to the fabric. The Meridian has one pocket  just below the neck, a good place to keep your car keys. The Meridian is available with options for relief zips (front or drop seat) and Gore-Tex socks instead of latex ankle gaskets (pictured).

A well-built drysuit like the Meridian doesn’t come cheap, but the protection and comfort make it worth the price.

My worst fear was unfolding before me. While experiencing twenty-mile-per-hour winds and two-foot oncoming waves in Lake Erie’s shipping lane, I watched a ship change its course and head straight for me. As the ship came closer, I reached for my VHF radio and reminded myself why I was near the middle of the deadliest of the Great Lakes…

Standing on Michigan’s Keweenaw Peninsula, I looked northward over Lake Superior toward the town of Terrace Bay, my destination, one hundred miles away. Five years earlier, I had been hit by a car while bicycling. That ended my touring days and lead to my involvement in sea kayaking. Other kayakers told me of the epic ocean crossings undertaken by Ed Gillett and Hannes Lindemann. I was immediately intrigued with what it must have been like to see nothing on the horizon surrounding them except the razor-thin division between air and water. In the years that followed, I sought out long-distance solo crossings, rough-weather paddling and rolling. Then, early in 1995, I decided to test my limits by crossing each of the five Great Lakes near their geographical centers. Finding this spot would be possible with the use of a Global Positioning System (GPS), a hand-held electronic device that receives signals from orbiting satellites and gives its position in latitude and longitude. The location of each lake’s geographical center was calculated by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration office in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

The design concept for the Dagger Sitka was to create my boat of choice for long distance paddling. I wanted a responsive tool that I could take anyplace I desired, in comfort, whether I was carrying heavy gear or just out for the evening. Aware of the drawbacks of most rudders, we developed the Sitka’s integral “trim tab” rudder. As a result, the boat is noticeably faster due to reduced drag, and also has increased durability, lighter weight and no need for a flip-up mechanism. The lock out lets you paddle the Dagger Sitka as if it had no rudder, so you get the best of both worlds. If you have been using an old style rudder, it may take a short while to adjust to the integral rudder, which has a softer feel since it runs inside the streamlines of the hull and works by lifting force. I keep it locked out when not adjusting the weather helm, but I have used the rudder in serious surf play to kick the boat around between waves. With its substantial volume, speed and excellent handling, the Sitka seems to love harsh conditions. We’ve been there, done that, liked it, and we’re going again. Steve Scarborough

Reviewers: 
DM 5’10”, 180-pound male. Day trips in chop to 11/2 feet, winds to 15 knots.
TW 6’1″, 180-pound male. Day trip in light winds with gusts to 15 knots. Small wind waves and large boat wakes.
TE 6’1″, 200-pound male. Day trips, flat calm to winds 15 to 20 mph, waves 11/2 to 2 feet and whitecaps.

Reviews: 
Dagger’s Sitka has “very nice lines”(TW), “a clean lay-up and a high standard of workmanship” (TE). The hull and deck are joined with an plastic extruded seam and glassed inside. Its rudder is faired into the hull and its controls are hidden under a small cover on deck. The Kevlar Sitka tested was “relatively light and easy to lift on a shoulder and balanced well” (TW). Toggles at the extreme ends make for an easy tandem carry. 
“The cockpit is roomy enough for large paddlers”(TW). “I could get in seat first then legs, making for easy reentry”(TE). “Kudos to the recessed deck fittings. In addition to adding a finished look to the kayak, they are positioned in a standard, but useful, format”(TW). In addition to the bungies, there is a nylon grab line the entire perimeter of the boat. There is a water bottle holder under the foredeck.
The deeply contoured fiberglass seat was comfortable for TE and TW. “The center [of the seat] has a molded-in hump that gives the feeling of sitting on a saddle and helped keep me positioned in the seat” (TE), though he would add some padding to prevent sliding laterally when bracing and rolling. TW would have liked a bit more support under the thighs and DM would have added some foam for a better individual fit.
The back band by PD Designs “provided good support”(TW). “A perfect fit for me. It was very comfortable and provided good support without restricting movement”(TE).
The thigh braces are molded into the coaming and padded with foam. “The best I have seen. The braces fit around my thigh without any edges digging in, [and are] hooked down to provide a solid grip”(TE).
The foot braces have pivoting foot pads for steering and provide solid support for bracing. The webbing-and-buckle attachment to the rudder cables makes it easy to adjust. The system impressed all the reviewers. The secure grip provided by the foot and thigh braces makes rolling easy.
“The rudder is an interesting one: The advantage is that it doesn’t hang down to snag on things and pick up weeds. The disadvantage is that it isn’t a very effective one. I found the boat’s response to the rudder to be somewhat sluggish” (DM). TE agreed that the rudder “doesn’t have a powerful turning effect. Initially, my tendency was to oversteer, putting the full rudder angle on. Later, I learned to wait for the rudder to take effect. Once I got used to its limited power, I found it worked well for maintaining a general course” (TE).
On the water, the Sitka’s initial stability was described as “comfortable” (TE), and “slightly tippy”(DM). Its secondary stability is “very solid” (DM). “The combination makes it easy to set the boat on edge for carved turns” (TE). “The thigh braces and rigid foot braces complement the ability to execute bracing and leaning” (TW).
The Sitka’s tracking drew a divided response, with DM noting that it had a tendency to wander, TE noting that it did not. With the rudder locked, the Sitka responded to leaned turns: “the bow won’t swing around immediately, but once the turn starts the Sitka turns well” (TE). “When leaned completely over, the Sitka turned easily” (TW).
TE thought the Sitka was “a pretty fast boat”: he could easily hold 4 to 5 knots, sprint short distances at 6 knots and hold 51/2 knots for longer periods. DM thought the Sitka had “average speed.” Paddling at fast cruising pace over a measured mile, he clocked 4.8 knots.
The Sitka rides fairly dry. DM noted “the bow hatch tended to deflect a bit of spray into my face when paddling directly into chop.” TE noted that “in 2-foot waves I only occasionally took water over the bow. Water that got on the foredeck was not thrown up by the deck hardware.”
TE thought that the Sitka was “fairly well balanced” in winds to 20 mph. It showed “a slight and slow weather-cocking, but it was easily corrected by edged turns or with the rudder.” DM thought the Sitka “tended to weathercock when paddled with the rudder locked in the center position.” On wind waves to 2 feet, DM and TE found the Sitka surfed well. “The rudder may come out of the water as the wave lifts the stern. Once up to speed, the rudder doesn’t have the power to steer quickly. Fortunately, the Sitka has enough maneuverability in its edged turns to provide good control” (TE).
The Sitka loads easily through two large Kayak Sport rubber hatches fore and aft. There is plenty of stowage space for extended cruising. The tethered day hatch opens to a flexible pouch. Its small volume keeps items from getting too far out of reach. TE reported a slight leakage into the aft compartment, TW noted about three cups forward and one cup aft after an afternoon of rescue practice. The fiberglass bulkheads are glassed in on one side and caulked on the other. The aft bulkhead is “hard up against the seat and sloped to reduce floodable volume and to make for quick and complete draining” (TE).
“The Sitka is a very nice kayak with some outstanding merits, the day hatch for one, and the thigh braces for another. It will meet a variety of paddling styles and will appeal to a wide range of boaters” (TW). For DM, the Sitka was an “adequate performer in many respects, though not really an exceptional boat in any way I noticed.” For TE, “the Sitka is on my short list. Once I changed the way I thought about the rudder, not as a substitute for paddle and edged turns, but as a supplement for course holding, I grew to like it. I think it is a great choice for a cruising kayak. It has the capacity to carry a lot of gear, and it is no dog when paddled without a load for fun.” 
Designer Response
Wow! Great review, guys. Sushi’s on me. The Dagger Sitka has found quite a following since we introduced it in 1996. The problem with an awesome review like this is that I don’t have much of anything to discuss. Any performance kayak is going to engender differences of opinion, and we expected as much with the new ground (water?) broken with the Sitka. The trim-tab rudder drew the most attention and found a reviewer who appreciated it. Most folks quickly learn how to paddle the Sitka and no longer need that monster blunt instrument of a sea kayaker’s crutch, the rudder they’ve gotten used to.
Even so, if enough people requested it, we would develop a more powerful rudder blade, since it can be replaced with no tools, but so far this has not been the case. Our experience with the Sitka has been positive to the point that you will soon see other new touring kayaks from Dagger with the integral trim-tab rudder. As for hatch covers, expeditionist Bob Powell chose the Sitka to circumnavigate South Georgia island off the coast of Antarctica, and for the entire 52 days (in 8 meter waves and 30 knot winds at times) he only got a small amount of water one day when he failed to put a cover on straight. (There are alignment marks on the hatch cover.) The Dagger Sitka is easy to paddle and will serve you well in a variety of conditions. While no kayak is perfect for every paddler and paddling style, and even though I have several boats to choose from, I now find myself drawn to the Sitka as my personal boat of choice in many situations, and nearly always when it looks rough out there!

Steve Scarborough, designer

Options and Pricing
Designed: 1996
Standard Lay-up: Glass/Spheretex or Kevlar/Spheretex
Approximate Weight: Kevlar, 50 lbs.; Glass 56 lbs
Standard Features: Integral urethane foil rudder with internal lock, PD Designs backband, neoprene-padded thigh braces, Yakima foot braces with “butterfly” pedals, carrying toggles, water bottle holder, deck rigging, recessed deck fittings, hatches witbuilt-in day hatch bag, bulkheads, recessed compass mount Price: Glass, $2,300; Kevlar, $2,650 Options: Thigh brace kit, under-deck tray, seat and backrest pad custom-fit system.
Availability: Any Dagger dealer
Manufacturer’s Address:
Dagger
P.O. Box 1500
Harriman, TN 37748
Phone (423) 882-0404

Seahorse II
The Seahorse II is, according to the manufacturer, “designed to aid a kayaker in rapid bailing as well as helping the kayaker climb back into the cockpit.” It is made of urethane-coated 200 denier nylon treated to resist ultraviolet light. It is inflated by two 68-gram CO2 cylinders and/or an oral inflation tube. The CO2 cylinders are covered by neoprene sleeves to prevent burns to the skin, as the cylinders ice up when they discharge. A plastic dump valve is provided for rapid deflation.
I tried the Seahorse II on a couple of different kayaks, carrying it on deck and clipped into deck fittings aft of the cockpit.
After a capsize and wet exit, it was a simple matter to pull the Seahorse II out and clip its other end into the deck line forward. The brass clips supplied with the device open like crab claws. With cold hands or gloves it can be difficult to pinch them to open them. A snap hook that didn’t require as much dexterity would be easier to use.
When the wind was up and the kayak was drifting, I deployed the Seahorse II on the upwind side-shifting the aft fitting to windward if necessary-so my legs would trail away from the kayak rather than drift under the hull. I pulled the cords activating the two inflators; the cylinders and the fabric around the inflators frosted up. For the few moments that the cylinders are discharging they are intensely cold, even if submerged. Following the manufacturer’s instructions I used the oral inflator to complete the inflation. It required a dozen blows to make the bag firm to the touch and ready to use. If the water temperature isn’t too cold, you could inflate the Seahorse II orally and save the cylinders for another time.
To drain the cockpit, I reached across the kayak, grabbed the far side of the coaming and rolled the boat toward me and onto the float. It doesn’t take a lot of strength, because the cockpit drains as it rolls. By the time the kayak is on top of the float, the cockpit is nearly empty. A quick shove flips the kayak right-side up without taking on any additional water.
After the kayak is back on its bottom, the Seahorse II stabilizes the kayak and provides a nylon webbing stirrup for reentry. In this way it serves the same function as the Sea Float by Georgian Bay Kayak (reviewed in August 1996) but has the advantage of a shape that puts the bulk of the buoyancy to either side of the webbing ladder so that you need not climb over it to get to the cockpit. The stirrup, as it came from the manufacturer, was a loop of nylon webbing laced through two grommets with its ends joined by a plastic slider. When I stepped on one side of the webbing it just pulled all the slack from the other side. To create two “fixed” steps I tied the webbing into the grommets to create two steps at different heights and knotted the ends of the webbing together. That made it much easier to get out of the water and into the cockpit. On a few occasions, one rung of webbing wrapped around my foot when I twisted to set myself into the cockpit. Fortunately, the Seahorse II provided plenty of stability while I shook the webbing off. Once I was back in the cockpit, I leaned on the float for support while getting my spray skirt back on and pumping out any remaining water.
On one occasion, my PFD snagged and inadvertently opened the dump valve. To reduce the chances of that happening I’d suggest cutting the tab off the plug; you don’t need it to open the valve.
When I was ready to paddle, I released the forward end of the Seahorse II and paddled away. Even with the dump valve, deflating it takes a bit of time and could put you in a vulnerable position if you had to take your hands off the paddle in rough water. The Seahorse II didn’t seem to cause much drag while I was underway.
Although the manufacturer emphasizes the bailing abilities of the devices, I think its boarding ladder and supplemental stability are its best features. If there’s water in the cockpit, you can always pump out once you get back aboard. The Seahorse II would provide a margin of safety for a tired paddler who needed help getting himself back in the boat. Thermofloat Sea-Seat
The Thermofloat Sea-Seat is described as a “personal survival raft for cold water.” It is a large square inflatable “pillow” with a depression in the center. We first reviewed it in Spring 1986, and it has recently been put back into production. The Sea-Seat’s square meter of yellow polyurethane-coated nylon is equipped with an oral inflation tube, a stout welded-in plastic grommet in one corner, and a nylon strap tether with a plastic snap hook for clipping onto the paddler’s life jacket.
The Sea-Seat can be used as an aid for reentry by setting a paddle across the Sea-Seat and the aft deck of the kayak. Sitting in the Sea-Seat, I could even lift the bow of a kayak to drain a swamped cockpit. But there are a number of devices that are quicker to use for a reentry. The Sea-Seat’s chief advantage is as a life raft to get you out of the water in the event that you’ve lost your kayak. For that reason, the Sea-Seat should be carried on your person, clipped to your PFD.
It took me about 70 puffs to inflate the Sea-Seat. When I inflated the Sea-Seat while in cold water (wearing a wet suit) I didn’t get light headed as I did when blowing it up in the office. But my lips weakened so I curled my hand around my lips to finish inflation. Even so, I was able to inflate the Sea-Seat in 13/4 to 21/2 minutes, well below the 3 to 4 minutes stated by the manufacturer.
Getting up on the Sea-Seat was very much like getting up on the rear deck of a kayak, although the Sea-Seat has no hand holds, so it can be a bit more difficult to get a grip on. I set my hands in the depression and flutter kicked my legs to the surface. With a final kick I pulled myself belly down onto the seat. Sliding around from the prone position to sitting takes a bit of care, but gets easier with practice. Once I was in the sitting position, the Sea-Seat felt very stable and provided enough flotation to keep all but my lower legs out of the water.
In one trial I spent about twenty minutes on the Sea-Seat drifting through a 2-foot high shore break and wading back out to deeper water. I felt quite stable even with waves breaking over me. Since I didn’t need to hold on I could keep my hands tucked into my PFD for warmth. While my legs were cold, I was not losing heat anywhere near as fast as I would have had I been immersed. Being out of the water also made it easy to get to gear in the pockets of my PFD. I could easily find and use any emergency equipment I was carrying. For rescuers, I would be much more visible perched on the Sea-Seat than I would be swimming with only my head above the water. While I hate to think I could lose my boat, it does happen. In several of Sea Kayaker’s accident reports, paddlers have been separated from their kayaks. In a worst-case scenario, a Sea-Seat would make a significant difference. 
The Signal Buoy
The Signal Buoy is a CO2-inflated cylinder of bright orange fabric. It packs into a small pouch on a waist belt and is 45 inches long and 6 inches in diameter when inflated. On its upper end it has a strip of retro-reflective material to reflect searchlights, and inside there is a strip of radar-reflective material. The CO2 cartridge is not insulated and, as it freezes when discharging, it can burn the skin. A neoprene sleeve or a few wraps of duct tape would safeguard against injury. The CO2 cartridge fully inflates the buoy, and there is an oral inflation tube as a second means of inflation.
The Signal Buoy has two nylon straps that serve as handles. You need to hold onto the device to keep it upright-it lies flat on the water if you don’t. When it is in use in the upright position, it isn’t designed to provide you with any additional flotation. Since you’ll be immersed in the water, your survival depends upon a rescuer getting to you before the effects of hypothermia overcome you. Your survival time will depend upon the temperature of the water and how well insulated your clothing is to protect you from the cold.
The Signal Buoy’s purpose is to make you more visible to rescuers. Its bright orange fabric shows up well against the water and its retroreflective tape is very effective. Even with a 6-volt flashlight, it produced a noticeable reflection at about 175 yards.
In radar trials on ruffled seas and to a distance of about 400 yards (*Our tests were limited by a small waterway. Radar tests by Boating magazine noted a good reflection at one mile over flat water.), the radar reflective material inside the Signal Buoy produced a blip roughly the equivalent of an 111/2″ diameter corner reflector (a common reflector used on larger recreational boats). The blip diminished when the Signal Buoy rotated and the radar reflected material’s edge was pointed at the radar. If the manufacturer were to add another strip of material attached at a right angle to the existing piece, the Signal Buoy might produce a more uniform signature. But even though the signal was occasionally very faint, it was easy to pick the Signal Buoy up on radar.
The Signal Buoy is very compact and easy to carry. Like the Sea-Seat, it is most useful when you lose your kayak. Since it doesn’t protect you from the effects of cold water, I’d recommend it for paddlers travelling in warmer water where their survival time is longer or in well travelled waterways where potential rescuers are close by.
Other inflatable devices
The three inflatable devices reviewed here are designed for use after a wet exit and in some cases after the loss of the kayak. Other inflatable devices are designed to be used prior to a wet exit. The Back-Up, a deck-mounted auto-inflating rolling float (reviewed in June, 1997) and the paddle loom float by Sport Zölzer (to be reviewed later this year) are designed to be used after a capsize. Rolling with a float makes it possible to get back to the surface and right the kayak without having to wet exit. They effect faster rescues and avoid swamping the cockpit, increased exposure to cold and the process of reentering the kayak and resealing the spray skirt. To complete the spectrum, the Sea Wings Sponsons (reviewed Winter 1993) are orally inflated cylinders secured on either side of the cockpit at the waterline. When inflated they provide additional stability to help prevent a capsize or to assist with a reentry after a capsize. They have the advantage that it is easy to paddle the kayak with them in place.
Any of these inflatable devices can add to your margin of safety. Which device you choose depends on the waters you paddle, the kinds of rescue that are likely and how comfortable you are using the device under adverse conditions. Equip yourself to allow for making a mistake at a bad time. Then strive to be wise about when and where you paddle.
The author is the editor of Sea Kayaker. He wishes to thank Officer Doug Harris and the Seattle Police Department Harbor Patrol for their assistance with radar testing.

……..Kayakers by the thousand make pilgrimages to Johnstone Strait to paddle among killer whales and to explore the adjacent Broughton Archipelago. Many arrive unprepared for the rigorous conditions they’re liable to encounter. As a result, Borrowman and Mackay have over the years delivered many exhausted, wet, humbled kayakers to safety on the Gikumi and its new sister vessel, the Lukwa. For sheer drama, however, none of their rescues match the one they performed on the first day of spring, 1988, with the assistance of fellow Telegraph Cove resident Dan Mooney. In an ironic twist of circumstances, the couple they rescued, Debra Kuykendall (now Debra LeClair), then a student at Oregon State University, and her boyfriend, geologist Kevin Johnson, would almost certainly have died if the high winds which contributed to their misadventure hadn’t forced Mooney to take the day off work. Kevin Johnson:….I’d tried kayaking, not necessarily sea kayaking, but kayaking somewhere, and read something in a magazine about it. I’ve always liked Canada and thought it would be a great opportunity to go out there and give it a try.
……..We drove up to Port Angeles and took the ferry over to Victoria and stopped at a place in Victoria that rented us a sea kayak. They gave us some advice for some nice areas where you could kinda go around a bit—nice protected areas, that kind of stuff. Being totally unfamiliar with the water conditions up there, I thought, “Hell, let’s just drive up the island, look for another spot, maybe we can find a little island to camp out on.” All this kind of thing. That’s pretty much what we did. We drove up the island and ended up in Alert Bay.
…….I was a little more enthusiastic about it than Deb was. I think she was a little more cautious and I was a little more of a risk-taker at the time. We got out there and the weather was a little rainy and a little cool, but nothing unexpected for March. We put in and the water was beautiful, nice and calm, and we went out maybe a mile to an island, got some of our stuff out, set up a camp. There were several little islands there in the area, and there were eagles around and the water was crystal clear.
…….We got up the next day, and the wind had picked up and things were a little more active. Deb was kind of relying on me to be the team leader, and, unfortunately, I was out of my realm. I didn’t have a good grip on what the conditions were out there. I could see the weather was getting a little snotty, but we didn’t have any water there on the island and I was getting a little nervous about staying out there any more than a day. I said, “Let’s go for it, try and make it back to where our car’s parked.” We were both pretty nervous about it.
Deb LeClair:…Things looked pretty choppy. I got that real bad feeling in my gut, looking out and seeing it get progressively worse. Both of our thoughts were, not knowing the weather patterns up there at all, that it could get really bad. We might be stuck here on this island for days. We didn’t have food or water for days.
…….I didn’t feel good about it at all, but he kept reassuring me: “Ah, you know, we grew up on the Oregon coast. This isn’t any worse. It’s no big deal.” Trying to convince me of that. Now when he looks back on it, he knows it was a really wrong choice. I remember at one point almost being in tears about going. Just that feeling of, “No, this isn’t okay,” and, “Wait, I have to go to the bathroom one more time.”
…….By the time we broke down camp, there were definitely whitecaps. That made me real nervous.
…….The other thing was that the chart and the tide book we had didn’t seem to coincide, so we couldn’t even tell the tide for where we were. That was really stupid, because they were against us. 
Johnson:..We got through a little bit of rough water and that wasn’t too bad. The tide currents up there are really something, extremely fierce. There was some pretty big water for what the day before had been smooth as glass. Not understanding the tides up there, I didn’t realize that if we’d just held tight for a few hours, it probably would have eased up quite a bit, and we would have had a much easier time of it. We got within probably thirty yards of an island big enough to put in to and get all our stuff up on. It had some trees on it and was somewhat protected. At the time I was aiming at that thing. But we were dealing with something that neither one of us could handle. It was beyond our experience. 
LeClair:..The person in the back controls the rudder, and at that point I remember very well asking him why we kept shifting. He kept changing course on me, I thought. We had a plan to head straight for this little island, but out a little bit, then cut in and ride the current into it. And I kept saying, “Why do you keep changing our course?” He didn’t say anything for awhile, and I said, “Why?!” I was getting really tense then. He finally said, “I’m not. I’ve got the rudder all the way the other way.” That’s when I knew that we were in trouble.
……..We were almost to this rocky little island and I remember looking at a log resting on the bank and watching to see if we were making progress. And we were drifting back; the current had taken over. That’s what drew us into this point where apparently the water is coming from one side and the other—there are about three currents pushing together. It was just this great big whitewater mess. That’s where we dumped.
Johnson:… We came up on this standing wave. We got into it crossways and it just rolled us over. Out we went. I told Deb to hang onto the kayak. We gathered up a little bit of our stuff, which took quite a while, ten or fifteen minutes to get up into the kayak. We shot off one flare, probably the best $12.95 I ever spent. The current was picking us up and we went just zooming by the island. She was saying something about trying to swim for it, and I told her, “No way, stick with the boat.”

…….It took us probably twenty minutes to get our act together, and it wasn’t much of an act. Once we did get back in, we were pointed straight into the waves. Every wave went up over me. I had this incredible bruise from the back of the cockpit, from each wave wrenching me back. Some of the time I couldn’t even get my breath.
…….I was able to get my spray skirt on tight, but he couldn’t ever get his on. That was a pretty critical thing. I think we might have been able to recover if he’d have gotten his spray skirt on, because I had a bilge pump and we had an extra paddle—we’d lost both of our other paddles when we went over. But by the time we got into the boat, his hands wouldn’t work. The other thing was that our life jackets kept coming unzipped—both of them. I remember trying to get it zipped up to a certain point, and using my teeth because my hands didn’t work, and every time I looked down, it was just kind of floating around me. Johnson:…We were going farther and farther out into the Johnstone Strait, and there again were hitting these standing waves which are several feet high, and they’re breaking over Deb and coming up on me and going into where I’m sitting. The kayak had bulkheads, but the front one blew out.
…….So we were going along and trying to be encouraging to each other but not doing a very good job of it. We were both real scared. We’d managed to salvage the spare paddle, but in trying to pass the paddle back and forth, she had an end of the blade and was handing it back to me when a gust of wind caught it, and it was ten feet out. It could just as well have been miles.
…….We tried paddling with our hands, but the damn thing was so heavy by now that we weren’t really doing anything except keeping ourselves warm a little bit. We could see a house, and I’m thinking, “I’m going to die out here within sight of a house.” A sense of impending doom was definitely on me. I was starting to think about my funeral. I just didn’t see how we were going to get out of it. I was getting real weak by this time. Deb was in better shape but not able to do anything without me. 
LeClair: The wind caught the first flare, and it didn’t really go up into the air. I think it was Kevin’s. I had a flare, and it was like having a candy bar when everyone’s starving, holding onto it and going, ‘I can’t let this go. I have to wait for just the right moment.’ I don’t really know why we didn’t shoot it off sooner. Probably because we were fighting so hard just to keep going. Everything was a struggle. Then, at some point—we were well out into Johnstone Strait by then—we shot off the second one. 
Johnson: It seemed like it wasn’t too long after that we saw a boat, which was the Gikumi. 
Dan Mooney: I was working as a faller and it was very windy—we’d been blown out for the day. It was around nine or ten in the morning. I was living at Telegraph Cove at the time and had come down from Kokish, which is right up the road. At that time, you could, if you lived there, drive your car right down the boardwalk. I thought I’d just drive down and have a look at the waves—I had nothing else planned for the day. I parked facing the water, got out of my car and was just noticing how big the waves were. It was blowing at a steady forty knots at least. There was pretty big surf out there.
…….I was looking out at the horizon across Johnstone Strait. It would be almost due north as you’re looking out of the cove. About three to five miles out, I saw a big, arcing flare. It was quite brilliant, not that hard to see. You could see it drifting in the wind. It went across the horizon in a fairly wide arc. It stayed visible for somewhere between thirty seconds and a minute. Just the one. When you see a flare under those conditions…I thought, “I wonder if someone’s in trouble out there.”
I turned around and from where I was standing I could see Bill standing in the sitting room on his balcony. I knew he couldn’t hear me, so I mouthed the words, “Did you see that?” He kinda gave me a blank look.Bill Mackay: Dan kind of motioned up to me, and I went, “Yeah, that’s right—it’s coffee time, Dan.” So he comes up—bolting up the stairs—and he says, “Did you see that out there?” And I said, “Yeah, right, Dan, it’s real windy out there. Sit down and have a coffee.” But he said, “No, no, did you see that? I saw a flare, I’m sure I saw a flare.” We said, “Who the heck would be out there? Forget it.” He was insistent. He just couldn’t sit still. And he kept staring—see if he could see it again.
…….He was saying, “Please, do something,” so I phoned the Coast Guard. At the time it was in Alert Bay, and I explained to them that a friend of ours thinks he’s seen a flare out near Cormorant Island. Somewhere in there—the Stubbs Island area.
…….The Coast Guard person immediately said, “Well, did you see it?”
…….”No, I never saw it.”
…….”Did anyone else observe it?”
…….”No, just Dan.”
…….”How reliable is he?”
…….I said, “Well, Dan’s cool. He’s a pretty bright guy.”
…….So they said, “Okay, we’ll phone rescue centre.”
…….They phoned [B.C.’s Rescue Coordination Centre]. Rescue centre phones us back and says, “How reliable is he?” The whole thing, the same thing. And I say, “Well, Dan’s straight, he’s not a wacko.” And they said, “It’s at your discretion, if you want to go, but we’re out of it. Just let us know what you do.”
…….So we sat back down and continued our coffee and Dan just kept hopping. He just kept saying, “We gotta go,” so I phoned rescue centre back and said, “Look this guy’s pretty sure he saw something.” About forty minutes had elapsed by this point.
…….We went down and fired up the Gikumi, and we’ve got a thirty-foot skiff as well. We towed the skiff. What we normally do when we set something like this up is, the bigger boat will go and handle the rougher water, and the smaller vessel will do in amongst the islands, going in and checking with people, see if they’ve seen anything—just generally doing the shore search stuff.
…….So away we went. And boy, it was rough. We were taking a beating. The wind’s picking up and we’re up to about 60, 65 knots when you get out there—really blowing—and a big ebb tide: the ocean’s flying out of here heading for Japan, about 7 knots. Dan’s really on point; we’re all on point, but sort of yawning at the same time, like, “Why are we here? This is really absurd.”
…….As we’re cruising down the backside of Pearse Island, I see what appears to be a flour bag, a yellow flour bag. And I think, “That’s pretty dumb, people throwing their garbage out.” So I jumped in the skiff to check that out. I recognized that it was kayak stuff. I undid the Velcro and it’s got women’s stuff in it and a little camera. And it’s all dry as a bone. Well, my heart stopped. I just knew there was something serious going on. And we weren’t that far off the mark.
…….I went back to the Gikumi right away to tell Jim. I threw the bag at them, and Dan just started rejoicing. He couldn’t believe it: there was really something going on. They went through the rest of the bag to see if there was any name or anything on it—anything identifiable. And there was nothing.
Mooney: When we found that, it really confirmed that someone was in trouble out there. That was when we really started to peel our eyes. Up until that point, we were thinking maybe it was a false alarm. We didn’t have anything concrete to prove that there was anybody in trouble.
…….Then, when Jim radioed Coast Guard that we’d found the bag, the skipper on the Alert Bay ferry run interjected in the transmission and said something to the effect that, “Yah, I saw a couple of kayakers going over about two days ago, and they haven’t come back on the ferry yet.” 
Jim Borrowman: Bill went off to the southeast corner of the Pearse Islands and started searching in that area. The reason he went in the skiff up there is that there are small, tight little channels, and it’s really difficult to get a big boat in there. And that’s where the fifty-knot winds were smashing against; it was quite a rough area right in there. I just couldn’t get in very close because of the reefs.
…….So we carried on west down the side of the Pearse Islands. We went right down the full length of them. We went into a channel inside the Pearse Islands and did a circuit in there, but there was nothing, so we came back out and were going to go a parallel route east back up Cormorant Channel. We got up not very far and Dan says, “I think I saw something.”

While the paddle float was devised as a way to improvise an outrigger for self-rescue, its best use, in my opinion, is as an aid to a reentry and roll. Once the rudimentary principles of a roll are mastered, a reentry and roll with a paddle float can offer a reliable self-rescue, even though rolling without the float might still be elusive.
For a reentry, flip the kayak upright, float yourself alongside the kayak facing the bow, and grasp the paddle against the far side of your cockpit so that it extends out at right angles past you with the float as far from the side as possible. Grip the near side of your cockpit with your other hand. Lie back in the water. Hold your breath and swing your feet into the cockpit between your hands. Still gripping both sides of the cockpit, wriggle yourself into your seat, and with your feet on the foot braces, grip firmly with your knees. Now grasp the paddle shaft with both hands and gently pull down against the buoyancy of the paddle float until your head reaches the surface and you can breathe and see what you are doing. Relax now in this position. Finish your roll by pulling down on the paddle with the hand closest to the paddle float, pushing your head down toward the water and flicking with your hips to right the kayak. When the kayak is upright, bring your head inboard close over the deck. Maintain your balance with the aid of the paddle float by gripping it tightly across the cockpit coaming. As with the previous paddle float self-rescue, in windy conditions or in waves or surf, enter from the side the waves are approaching from so that you are bracing on the correct side once you are upright.
If you practice the reentry and roll with a paddle float and find it straightforward, try deflating the float a little. The less buoyancy you need in the float, the more efficient your hip flick is becoming. Ultimately you might aim to be able to self-rescue without a float, but then you can still carry the float as a back-up in case you need it sometime.
Of course practicing a roll with a paddle float is a good way of gaining confidence for rolling without a float. It is also an excellent way to improve your hip flick until it is almost effortless. Use the float for practicing paddle braces until you can brace with confidence and can progress to bracing without a float with no fear of failure. Regularly using a paddle float increases your familiarity with it and helps you gauge its advantages and limitations for yourself. To improve your sense of balance, try reentering without the paddle float, going through all the moves on calm water. Then rehearse with your float in varying conditions until you know what you are capable of with a float rescue.