by Will Nordby
Editor’s note: Will Nordby recently completed his career as a broadcast and print photo-journalist based in the Bay Area. He started kayaking in 1973 and has traveled along the coasts of Alaska and British Columbia in addition to the Caribbean, Central America, and South Pacific. His articles have appeared in various magazines including Sea Kayaker and Canoe. He met both Steve Sinclair and Eric Soares during his time in the Bay Area and served as Safety Chairman for BASK (Bay Area Sea Kayakers). He is the originater of the Paddle Float, a safety device for sea kayaking first marketed in 1984. Will edited the first commercial videos Eric produced and created separate stories on Steve and Eric for television. Another of Will’s projects was the sea kayaking anthology “Seekers of the Horizon” published in 1989.
Mention the name of Steve Sinclair in the company of experienced ocean paddlers from the ‘80s and you’ll likely get a pensive nod of respect. Mention the name among the “now” generation of ocean paddlers and you’ll probably get a blank look. Despite the passage of time, the oceanics of Steve still burn brightly in the minds of those who knew him.
Dial back to the fall of 1982 at Sausalito, California. On the waterfront, a colorful array of kayaks line the beach dramatically contrasting with the staid yachts and sailboats nestled in the marina floats. Beneath the gaiety of swaying balloons and flapping pennants, laughter and good natured banter fills the sunny air as paddlers mingle awaiting the action. The action consists of races as part of the first annual Sea Trek regatta hosted by owner Bob Licht.
I’m here as a freelance reporter for Canoe magazine. As I weave my way through the paddlers and kayaks, my attention is caught by a small group of men clad in wetsuits with the tops rolled down. They stand at the edge of the crowd and by their feet are strange paddling craft. Curious, I draw closer to eavesdrop on the conversation. All the men are in great physical condition but there is one among them who seems to be the leader. He stands 6’ 3” and weighs about 220. His broad chest and well muscled body underscore the fact he is an athlete. He speaks with his whole body using broad gestures punctuated by raucous laughter and verbal sound effects to emphasize his points. While he is talking, he happens to notice me. In the fraction of a second he glances my way, I’m struck by his piercing blue eyes and sea captain’s squint. In that instant, unknowingly, I have met Steve Sinclair.

Dial back to the late ‘50s at Claremont, California, a suburb of Los Angeles. A young single mother is raising her five children, three boys and two girls. The youngest is 6-year-old Steve. He has such an excess of energy that his mother finds it necessary to put a harness on him and tether him to a post in the backyard. He soon wears a circle into the lawn as he happily runs round and round. The growing years are a blur for Steve and by the seventh grade, at 5’ 6” and 160 pounds, he has grown strong from wrestling and lifting weights with his brothers. His athleticism catches the attention of physical education coach Eugene McCarthy, the man who will give direction to his life. Not only does McCarthy get Steve involved with the swim and water polo teams, he also serves as a father figure.
Dial forward through the ‘60s and early ‘70s of high school and college water polo where Steve adds lifeguarding to his many sporting endeavors of football, track, wrestling, body surfing, and constant conditioning. He has become a lean and mean athlete with a fierce competitive spirit.

To this mix, McCarthy introduces Steve to a wave ski designed by legendary surfer Merv Larson. What to do? Well, jump in the ocean and attack, attack, attack. After a few beatings, Steve finally gets the hang of it.
Dial forward to the mid-‘70s at the Navarro River along the Mendocino Coast in Northern California. Steve and a few surfer friends paddle down the river in stormy conditions. The plan is to take-out before the river rushes into the ocean. However, one friend is swept out. Steve immediately plunges through the gnarly shorebreak with his wave ski to save his friend. After much effort, Steve finally battles his way to his friend’s side. When they exchange greetings, the same thought strikes them: “Hey, this can be fun.” At this moment, the concept of “storm sea skiing” is born.
The missing piece of the storm sea skiing genesis is completed when, shortly after the Navarro episode, Merv Larson introduces Steve to Chuck Sherburne, the designer of a surf ski based on an Australian model. With Steve as test pilot, Sherburne’s prototype surf ski evolves into the Odyssea version. A cross between a kayak and a wave ski, the washdeck Odyssea has a blunt bow tapering to a narrow stern with a rudder. Double hatches allow for gear storage on long journeys along or off surf bound coastlines. It is the strange paddle craft I saw at the Sea Trek regatta.
Dial forward to the early ‘80s and the stage is set for storm sea skiing at Elk, California—man, paddle craft, and ocean. With his lifetime of experience in, on, and around the water, Steve is at home with the ocean. With his Odyssea surf ski he has a versatile craft he can rely on.
As a Southern California surfer, Steve is familiar with the “pretty boy” waves along that coast. At times, it is rather boring to do the same routines over and over again. Catch a wave, ride it to shore then turn out and repeat the cycle. But when he moves to Elk, in Northern California, he experiences, for the first time, waves that have a bite to them. Instead of rolling cleanly onshore, the waves are distorted by islets and rocky bottoms. They are like snarling junkyard dogs, unpredictable and wild. Moreover, the north coast catches the brunt of storms rolling in from Asia and Alaska creating big waves from strong winds.

Like all ocean paddlers with skill, Steve handles shorebreak, wash rocks, and sea caves as a matter of required performance. But, unlike other ocean paddlers, he thrives in adverse conditions such as rain, 50 knot winds, and breaking cross waves. Steve takes it to another level when he paddles offshore in those conditions anywhere from 3 to 5 miles. Psychologically, he is untethering from the comparative safety of a nearby shore and venturing into the unknown without safety backup. He is alone…utterly alone…amid the chaos of a raging ocean. It is what he seeks: testing his skills to the maximum and discovering who he is. For him it is a workout and performance art without an audience.
Dial forward to the present in remembrance of Steve who died in 1996 from a sudden heart attack. A renegade, an iconoclast, and an expert ocean kayaker—Steve was all three and more. With his extensive background in water sports, he regarded himself as a “waterman” and not a kayaker. Even without his boat, he felt confident he could swim to shore in heavy surf. He didn’t have the mentality of sitting inside a kayak and hoping he didn’t capsize.
Steve was generally dismissed in the kayaking community as being on the fringe and somewhat irrelevant. People focused on his storm sea skiing and not the fact that he, and his Force Ten guides, conducted ocean white water tours in modified Eddyline double kayaks. In one of the many conversations I had with him, he told me he would like to be remembered for his safety record in the tours—only nine capsizes in over 2,000 outings. In each case, the double kayak was righted before the passenger had to exit.
When I received that early morning call from a fellow paddler telling me Steve had died, I was devastated. I had lost a dear friend. He taught me lessons in kayaking safety I have never forgotten and was a role model for living life to the fullest through constant challenge and exploration.
It was my good fortune to know Steve Sinclair and Eric Soares in their prime. While both were highly skilled paddlers, Eric recognized that Steve had unique ocean experiences which could improve his own techniques. Ever the gentleman, and conscientious professor, Eric never failed to attribute the source of his knowledge gained from Steve.
Great story! There are a few references to Steve & Force Ten in Eric’s writings, but little else out there, and I’ve often wanted to know a more about him and his surfski antics. Thanks for posting this and giving a little more away about this interesting and inspiring paddler/waterman. Cheers, FP
Thank you Will for an inspiring contribution to the website!
And thanks FP for your comment. Glad you enjoyed the post. We do mention Steve and Force Ten on these pages and it seemed appropriate to get more information out there for the readers. Also, for those who might be interested, Will is currently writing a book about Steve Sinclair. Eric was helping Will with that endeavor and things got a little sidelined when he died, but Will is back at work and we hope we’ll soon get a chance to read the whole story.
And how about those pics, especially the one of the junkyard wave?!
I just wanted to clarify about the book. It is actually Steve’s autobiography which he had almost completed when he died. With the approval of Steve’s family, and help, I’m gathering information to complete the project. As you might expect, I miss Eric’s editorial assistance. –Will
Hi Will,
My name is Buz Trusso and Steve Sinclair and I played JC water polo together and were roommates in Long Beach while he played @ LBSU.
He and I stayed in touch thru most of the 70’s until he moved to Elk and then infrequently after that.
Steve’s book is of great interest to me. I suppose it has to do with twilight years and looking back.
If you have the time I would love to exchange war stories if want to call. I live in Oceanside, CA.
Thanks and hope to hear from you,
Buz Trusso
619-338-5371 Cell
Hi Buz,
I am so sorry to have to tell you that Will Nordby died a few years back (long enough now that I can’t remember exactly when). He did not finish the book. Very sad, and he is missed.
Thanks for reading the post and checking out our site.
Best wishes,
Nancy
Nancy,
My cousin Will passed away in July of 2014 from cancer. I have his interviews with Steve Sinclair on audio tape. I would love to pass these on to his family.
Hi Laura, I spoke with Andy Taylor, Steve’s friend and Connie’s husband. He said he’d be happy to contact you by email or phone so if you’d like to send me your contact info that would be great. You can send me a private message by clicking the Contact Us button at the top of this website. Thanks!
Nancy,
I agree about the photo – great shot Will!
Tess
I was just getting into ocean Kayaking in the early 1980″s and remember hearing about the Rangers and even more obscure Force Ten, we thought is was so cool !! Custom boats and technique for storm and rock garden kayaking.
Very cool
Thanks for reading, Mark. Glad you enjoyed the article.
Thanks Will for the cool look back at Steve and Force Ten! I competed with Sinclair in some of those early races (Sea Trek and Tsunami Rangers). His energy and charisma was as big as the ocean he paddled in. Everyone who met him was effected in some way. It’s an amazing story. John Dixon and I talk about him all the time. Can’t wait to read your book – I’ll buy a dozen copies for sure!
For Fat Paddler – Steve was a unique figure in the US paddling scene, and there has never been anyone since that came close to his physical and psychic heroics in this part of the world. If you know of Oscar Chalupsky, then you get the idea of Steve Sinclair. They could be twins born of different mothers…
Ah, the brother from a different mother!
Thanks for reading and commenting, Kenny. And thanks for mentioning Oscar Chalupsky. BTW, some time ago you mentioned yoga on SUP’s to me. I thought you were joking, although I distinctly saw the possibilities. Now I see it’s a new trend and in fact one of my friends in the yoga world here in Ashland is teaching it. I plan to check it out:)
Good to get your comments Kenny. As someone who has been around the scene for quite a spell, you certainly know the score. I haven’t forgotten the trip at Loreto.
Hey Will glad to have read your 2012 article good times I still have a couple of skies but hardly ever paddle . commercial fishing 22ftskifs for the live. Fish market here in port orford or best job in the world for half broken urchin divers… stop in I’ll take you out to the reefi
Hi Dave,
Thanks for checking out our website! I’m sorry to have to tell you that Will Nordby passed away a couple of years ago from pancreatic cancer. I can probably rustle up the link to his obituary – but I’m sure you can Google it. It’s a shame he never got to put his book together. We would have all enjoyed reading it. It sounds like life is good for you. Glad to hear it 🙂
The legends and tales of Steve reached me in Alaska when two friends bought Odyssea skis from him to use for their crossing of the Berring Straits. In the late 90’s my paddling partner and I drove down to North CA, to ocean whitewater kayak. We paddled in Elk for days and met Andy Taylor. In the evenings we camped with the family and around the fire Andy spun amazing stories about Steve. It seems to me that his reputation, and his ethics of complete self reliance have been overlooked. Thank you for this writing. It’s great.
Andy was one of the Force Ten guides. He saw first hand the unique skills that Steve had. I’m hoping Andy will write about his own experiences as an ocean paddler. As you noted, he has amazing stories to tell. –Will
Wow, Bjorn, I had no idea the Odysseas were used to paddle across the Bering Strait. Thanks for that info, and for your story. Yes, self reliance, something so often overlooked as we depend more and more on technology. Andy and Connie are still extremely self-reliant, still living in Elk and Connie still goes out from time to time. I hope to join her one of these days. Glad you were able to have that experience.
He was a legend, never had the privilege of meeting him. Here is a bit more info about him.
An early LA times article;
http://articles.latimes.com/1987-04-05/news/vw-82_1_kayak-helmets
and “The Classic Atlantic Monthly Article”:
http://www.theatlantic.com/past/docs/unbound/flashbks/extreme/todkayk.htm
Thanks for the links, Doug. I especially enjoyed the one in the Times. I think Will would have something to say about the Atlantic article, but I’ll let him weigh in on that if he chooses.
Two of the things both Steve and Eric shared were mentioned in the Times – kayaking in extreme conditions can actually make one calmer upon return, and the freedom ecountered at sea (“no boundaries”) can allow someone who is larger-than-life to heave a sigh of relief, at home in an element that matches that personality.
Doug, as you might imagine, quite a few writers were attracted by the exploits of Steve. Because of the high risk aspect of what Steve was doing, there was a tendency on the part of some writers to embellish things a bit. I’ve tried to avoid doing that in my writing.
Is this an example?
“Held upon the wind, Sinclair rises from his seat until he stands in his footwells like a Nordic skier.”
Good imagery, but always seemed a bit far fetched.
I imagine he got some pretty good “hang time” paddling out nonetheless. I knew of him but did not get a chance to meet him. I also look forward to you’re book.
Not sure about the Nordic reference, but standing up in the footwells isn’t so far-fetched to me. I’ve been on downwind surfski runs in 30 knot winds with a 12′ swell running, and when you get hurled down the face of a wave like that, it does feel like you are standing on your heels straight up in the boat – about to pitchpole forward if you’re not surfing! So, the description kind of sort of worked for me. There is a fine line sometimes for a writer between entertaining hyberole and fanciful BS, but a lot of that Atlantic Monthly article was borderline fantasy.
Doug, even though that particular sentence seems doubtful, it actually happened according to Steve’s notes. Also, Steve had his seatbelt unfastened so he could do this maneuver. Hard to believe, but he did what he had to do to, as he said, “to keep the ride happening”. The wind was so strong at the top of the wave, Steve had to use his full weight forward to keep the surf ski from being blown backward. His feet were, of course, anchored in the footwells to keep him attached to the surf ski. As soon as he could, Steve would refasten his seatbelt because he would need to flip and roll many times during the course of doing his “storm track” over a two to three hour period.
Andrew (the writer) wrote that Steve held the surf ski above his head to launch into the shorebreak. Not true as far as I know. Steve either held the surf ski to his side or, when he was carrying gear, held the surf ski by the stern with the nose resting in the swash as he constantly adjusted to keep the surf ski perpendicular to oncoming waves.
That is all I want to say about the article.
Actually he did occaisionally come up out of the seat, trailing the boat below, connected by the foot-straps. I’ve done it, too; but it doesn’t have to do with surfing, and its not a “trick”, in the sense of something you try to do or want to do, although it does take some practice to do it without falling over.
When we launched our skiis during winter surf at Greenwood Beach, there was always a shorebreak; sometimes very large. The only way to make it out is run down the steep berm with your boat, following the backwash from the last wave, throw your boat in, vault on, and sprint like hell. If there is time, you quickly buckle your waist belt after getting over the first line of surf; but very often, on a big day, there is no time with those first waves. You have to crank as hard as you can to make it over the next few waves; if you stop for even a moment you’re toast.
If you have ever been paddling as fast as you can up the face of an oncoming wave that is almost breaking, you know what happens: you get airborne. Way airborne if it’s big. This is no problem if you’re belted in, or if you’re in a decked boat with good knee braces, but when all that’s connecting you to your boat is your footstraps, your butt just sort of floats out of the seat as you come down to land on the back of the wave. If it was a very large, very steep wave, you may come WAY out of your seat, and, yes, it’s a bit like the Nordic ski jump, and very challenging to land squarely back in your seat to keep going.
As I said, this isn’t really desirable; it’s that there is sometimes no option, and so Steve got pretty good at pulling off the “Nordic Skier” landing until he could get the belt fastened. But we never took off our belts once they were on.
Andy
Excellent article Will and great storm surfing pictures. I am looking forward to reading your book.
Back in the late 80’s our ocean adventures had us stopping in Elk to visit Steve a few times at the Force 10 shop. On a couple down the coast paddles we stopped to check in and fill our water bottles or rinse off before heading out again. It was always good to check in, as Steve was a good connection to the Northern California Coast. In my search for a perfect ocean kayak I test paddled an Odyssea with Steve out in his personal play ground just down a few long switch backs to the cove off Elk.
What I remember most about Steve was that he was comfortable in calm or extreme conditions out in his patch of ocean. The stories he shared of storm surfing were amazing, considering the storms that hit our coast. It was always a great sighting at the Sea Trek Regatta or the Bolinas Surf Contest to see an Odyssea atop a VW Van come driving in and see Steve and his entire family step out for the event. It was always a pleasure to cross paths with him.
Thanks for bringing back some memories of friends we have lost along the way
Jer
Will
It’s important that we hear the stories of these men.
The “now” generation of kayakers should hear about guys like Steve & Force Ten, Eric, Jim & the Tsunami Rangers, Ed Gillet, Reg Lake, Paul Caffyn etc who all lived to their inner calling on the water.
I really enjoyed reading this article written by one who was also there and I look forward to reading the book.
And Will, while it’s been a long time since I used one, thanks for the Paddle Float!
Tess
I appreciate your comments Tess. I’ve met all the paddlers you’ve mentioned and they all experienced what the sea has to teach. I like to quote what Charles A. Borden wrote in his book Sea Quest: …”It can be said of most small-ship wanderers that they voyage not to acquire money or status but to accumulate new experience. And beyond that, perhaps, bare points of contact when the beginning, present, and future connect somehow with a ship, sea, sky, and an individual, when for a moment the secret of it all will stand revealed almost within reach. It is these times past and present that give meaning to life.
You’re welcome Will and I love that quote – I may even use it as my facebook status for today ha ha!
Tess
Hey, Jer, thanks for reading and commenting. I am so happy Will’s article is striking a chord. I love hearing the stories:) Steve was an amazing guy. I wish I could have met him.
Jer, even though Steve appeared calm in extreme conditions, he told me he always had a “tight stomach”. In other words, he had respect for the ocean and was ever vigilant and never overconfident.
Thanks Nancy,
Lots of memories associated with the many names mentioned here. Some I met briefly, others we shared some longer conversations, all left a lasting impression of how they showed up in our paddling world.
Reg
You’re so welcome, Reg. Glad you enjoyed the post – I hope we’ll have more of Will’s stuff in the future.
Compared to the author, subject, and many commenters of/on this story, I’m a relative newcomer, and I’ve not been familiar with Steve Sinclair and his position in the pantheon of epic paddlers. Best of luck polishing up that autobiography, it’s clearly a much-needed chronicle and resource. Thanks for bringing this legend (back) to life and inspiring a new generation of ocean explorers who also love a sense of play in their paddles.
Thanks for your comment, Nathan. So glad you enjoyed Will’s story and happy to introduce you to Steve through this post. And thanks for your support for the autobiography; I too am looking forward to reading it!
Awesome!
I first started paddling sometime in the ’90s, Fred Gillam used to regale me with tales of the Tsunami Rangers and Force 10. To hear that people actually sought to paddle the challenging conditions and thrive in extreme conditions, was mind blowing.
I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting Steve Sinclair, but what I’ve heard about him makes me want to buy and read the book.
To me, the true waterman and waterwoman are Heros that I respect and strive to emulate.
You mention a good point, Rainer. It’s important to have people to look up to, who set the bar high so we can see what’s possible. I will never be a storm sea skier, but I love it that there are such people and their example motivates me to push myself to the small extremes that I do. Our heros show us what we are capable of, opening up a world of possiblities.
Hey Will, thanks for writing this article! And Nancy, thanks for getting Will to write this article…
I first met Steve Sinclair at one of the first Tsunami Ranger ocean kayak races at Rodeo Beach. That race started with a launch into dumping surf at Rodeo Beach (well outside and north of the Golden Gate), proceded around Point Bonita, then on to the Golden Gate Bridge, and then BACK to Rodeo Beach, usually into 25+ knot winds! We only ran that one for a few years, until the Park Service asked about insurance and permits…
Anyway, as I got ready to launch at the race start, out of the corner of my eye I watched Steve (who was about twice my size), pick up his 70 lb (?) Odysee surf ski as though it was a match stick, tuck it under one arm, and run down the beach, tossing it into the waves, then disappearing out through the surf. By the time I made to through the surf zone, he was gone. I knew right then and there who would win the race that year! And for several years to come.
After that I got to know him. He and Connie threw a great party at their place in Elk, with plenty of abalone and booze to go around. What I found really impressive about Steve is he actually sought out the kind of conditions most of us tried to avoid (even the Tsunami Rangers have no love for gale force winds!). His favorite activity was to get out in storm seas, riding huge waves downwind in a 40 knot gale! He said it was the closest thing to ‘acid mind fuck.’ Sorry for the language, but that’s what he said and it’s the truth of the matter.
I know one way he kept in shape. If you ever haul a kayak and gear down and back up that trail to the beach in Elk, you’ll never do it again. He did it regularly to kayak, surf, dive for abalone, and catch Ling Cod for dinner. In spite of the wild conditions they paddled in, Steve, Andy, and the rest of ‘Force Ten,’ were very safety concious. They knew what they were doing out there on the ocean and, as Will mentioned, they conducted numerous guided trips through rock gardens and sea caves for the general public without ever losing anyone!
Most of all Steve knew how to have a great time and get his kicks out of life.
Hey John, I wish I had partied with Sinclair up in Elk. I bet he could party like a Force Ten gale! BTW, I think Alex Opedyk beat Steve in one of those Tsunami Races out of Rodeo Beach. Alex got very fast on his Aruk I, which had surfski-like diimensions.
I wonder why a design like the Odyssey Surfski never become popular in northern California? It inspired the Tsunmai boat designs, but closed-deck boats have been the dominant choice for performance sea kayakers, even in extreme conditions and rock gardens. Steve was ahead of his time in a lot of ways. When we paddle out of Pillar Point in big winter storms, or even on typically downwind runs off the coast here, I get a little of that “acid” rush while surfing on my ski down burly ocean rollers. Steve would have probably thought it was pretty “weak” acid by his standards…
Thanks for your comments John. It’s always good to hear from you. You’ve added a bit more color to the story of Steve. When I first went to Elk to visit with Steve, I couldn’t believe the conditions he was paddling in. I stood on the beach squinting against the sand blowing in my face from the whipping 20-knot winds. It was a dark cloudy day and the ocean was roaring. Junkyard waves were crashing ashore and I could feel the heavy thud throughout my body. “My God,” I thought to myself, “how crazy is this?” And yet, at the edge of the swash, there stood Steve with his Odyssea tucked under his arm waiting, looking, looking…then quick as a cat, he ran forward holding the Odyssea off his side and slammed it on the water while hopping aboard all in one fluid motion and began paddling into a huge wall of water. Why? How? Those were the questions that struck me as I watched Steve head out in mind boggling conditions. I would learn the answers in the years ahead.
Wow, great topic! I never met Steve Sinclair, first learned about him reading “Extreme Sea Kayaking”, and have been greatly influenced by his abilities, courage, attitude, and that bigger-than-life atmosphere surrounding him and his endeavors. His sayings were spot-on: “first, you have to be a waterman”, “kayaking is an in-water, not an on-water sport”. Everything I have ever read about him struck a chord, from the use of wetsuits, to safety, to pushing the limits “for fun”. When the wind is howling and the waves are too ugly for “regular” surfing, I’m out there storm-sea kayaking, and thanking the pioneer and king of storm-sea kayaking. Along with Eric, one of the true great legends in the world of kayaking! Thank you, Will, and Nancy!
Tony
Thanks as always for reading and commenting, Tony! I am totally digging the stories people are dragging out of the old memory banks. As Tess said, it’s important that people like Steve get their props and that the younger generation of kayakers like Nathan get exposed to them and their contribution.
Eric said the “kayaking is an in-water sport” line to me over and over. The most important thing to him about kayaking was the ability to swim and thus self-rescue. It also reminds me of what my dad used to say about downhill skiing – if you’re not falling down any more you’re not learning. I would suggest a similar comparison to kayaking – if you’re not capsizing any more… Whether you roll up or bail and climb back on at least you know you’re challenging yourself!
Hey, Will!
Thanks for the great article! Steve was a tremendous athlete, a wildly fun guy, a great friend, and as a paddler was truly in a class of his own.
When he invited me up to visit and check out his scene in Elk in the late winter of ’82, ocean paddling was my life, and I had it in my mind that I was a pretty good paddler. I’d read and reread the available books (only two! Hutchinson and Dowd); I’d paddled out to two of the Channel Islands, and I’d just finished paddling the entire West coast of Baja, mostly solo. I’d been out in what I’d considered bad weather, and survived, and I’d spent a lot of time in the surfzone.
But when Steve and I went out with for a paddle on what he considered a moderate day off the coast of Elk, through tricky passes, caves & tunnels, washovers, extensive rock gardens with breaking surf everywhere; then out to sea to surf the open-ocean swells amid the whitecaps, I was blown away. He was relaxed; just playing around…and he had these detailed analyses of every situation, with techniques he’d come up with to deal with them. I suddenly felt like I knew nothing!
I realized that I had to learn what he knew, and in early Fall I came to Elk, intending to stay for two or three months. That was thirty years ago, and a lot of water under the bridge, and I still live in Elk. As I worked and played in the water with Steve, especially during those first two winters of “Storm Sea Skiing”, ocean paddling became for me completely redefined, and the prevailing industry paradigm was turned on its head.
I became a Force Ten guide, along with Dave McCutcheon, Charlie Acker, Steve Acker and Connie Sinclair. We took people out regularly on tours, often in conditions that would be considered difficult, and with all kinds of people. Some gung-ho kayakers came, but, in fact, most of our customers were not water people of any kind, but rather tourists sent to us by local bed and breakfast inns. A small but consistent percentage had NEVER SEEN THE OCEAN BEFORE! We took out nonswimmwers, the elderly, small children, parapalegics, quadrapalegics—pretty much anybody who wanted to go. And every tour went in and out through the breaking surf at Greenwood Beach, and usually through the breaking rock gardens, caves and tunnels, all of it! Five miles of open coastline every tour.
And yes, as Will said, Force Ten had a perfect safety record with over 2000 tours (although I do recall more than 9 capsizes…). This was all Steve. He figured out, in precise and unrelenting detail, how to negotiate every section of the tour, in all conditions in which we’d do tours. Then he trained us guides to be able to negotiate every area not just in those conditions, but also on our Oddysea Skiis in the extreme conditions of winter storms, so that the tours, by contrast, felt pretty pedestrian; i.e., we felt completely confident on our tour. We had communication, alternate routes, rescue plans for every zone, definate paddling patterns for multiple boats, lengthy(!) debreifings after any close calls, on and on. Meanwhile all the customers percieved was smiles and cheery banter, and a great experience on the ocean.
I wanted to put this out there because Steve is usually remembered as a wild man, and Force Ten as a bunch of crazy guys doing crazy stuff. But Steve always said that the thing that he was most proud of, and most wanted to be remembered for, was all those F-10 tours without a single mishap.
Andy
Andy, that is amazing stuff! Thanks for sharing a bit of the business side of things. I find it fascinating. Everyone was always in awe of the way you guys operated those trips. As the manager of a sea kayaking school for the past 16 years, I can really appreciate how special that must have been with Steve as the owner/operator! The knowledge, skills, and know-how you guys developed to do what you did – that is priceless.
BTW, if you ever get down to the Half Moon Bay area, John Dixon and I would love to get you out on one his “modern” Epic surfskis designed for long distance racing. Do you remember John Dixon? He did a few sessions with Steve back in the day…Aloha. -Kenny Howell
Thanks for your comment, Andy. It’s good to hear from you. I love the stuff about the communication, the planning, the debriefing, etc. All things Eric advocated as well. He used to take me up on the bluffs and we’d look at conditions and imagine how we’d get here, go there, what we’d do if we messed up. These exercises were extremely useful to me and helped me look at things less emotionally and more analytically. No wonder Steve was such a great guide. No wonder he had such a great safety record. He deserves to be remembered for it.
Well said Andy! You knew Steve far better than I, but I do remember him being very safety-concious and analytical about the sea. Which you have to be to survive the kind of conditions you guys were paddling in.
Hey, I remember paddling with you on at least one Tsunami sea camping adventure and a couple of day trips too! That was always a blast. You remember fishing Michael out after he had a nasty swim? I put that story in my book, with lessons learned, etc. One lesson I learned from you on that occasion was the value of swim fins.
And Kenny, yeah, you’re right about Alex. He did win most of those Golden Gate races, but I think Steve won at least that one year at Rodeo, and I know he wiped us all out on a couple others down on the San Mateo coast.
Thanks for the validation Andy. It’s always nice to have support from someone who has had a front row seat to what has been said–and I do mean front row seat as in right-there-beside Steve. I’m tempted to launch into some of the stories but I’ve got to hold back for another time.
I’ve decided you guys need to:a) Win the lettory (ha, yea right!)b)Quit you jobs and live on a park bench (what my parents think I will be doing in 10 years and also not the best decision)c)Get a FREE trip to Hawaii! (All of Zadi’s friends with a lot of money consider this a hint!!) 🙂 lol
Great job on the Sinclair posting, Will, and I (as plenty of others, I’m sure) look ahead to the Sinclair book. If Steve had been a soldier, I’m sure at least one Medal of Honor would be hanging around his neck. — McH
Thanks Paul. While the emphasis has been on Steve’s paddling skills, his skills as a lifeguard and the lives he saved are still to be told. He was one amazing guy.
Loved the read (& this site in general). As a young wet-behind-ears guide in AK I found the article in an old Sea Kayaker magazine about Sinclair & was always captivated by it. Even drove the 1 just to pass through Elk. I attended a couple of fishing events in Elk about 5-6 years ago & ran into the guy who was running Force 10 at that time. I always felt privileged to have seen the huge map of the coast with Sinclair’s notes all over it tacked to the wall. Work of many years experience right there.
I recently got back from another 2 day trip to Santa Cruz Island, and after doing some caving on a decent swell day, kept thinking back to this site, the unknown influence that Eric had on me, & my posthumous brush with the legend of Mr Sinclair. Thanks to all.
So glad you enjoyed the article and the site, Sean. We aims to please. And thanks for your comment – it’s always great to hear from people and know that we’ve reached them and find out what they’re doing in the kayaking world. It’s all about the connections…
Will – Bravo! Thanks for writing such a great article about Steve Sinclair. Andy, John and all you other mates, thanks for weighing in with more fascinating details. I was just spellbound reading them.
I saw a film back in the day of some highly skilled West Coast paddlers surfing really huge and gnarly breakers – the kind that would have eaten me for lunch. My jaw dropped so hard it bruised my chest. It was so far out of my league that I couldn’t even begin to imagine how they had the nerve and skill to do it.
We’re living thorough a changing of the guard in sea kayaking, and I totally agree with Tess that it’s really important to recount the history and tell the tales so that newer paddlers can dream, stretch their eyes to the far horizon, and see what’s possible.
I never met Steve, but when it came to cold water safety, he was a man after my own heart. In Eric’s Kayaking and Cold Water Immersion article (TR 2-7-11) Andy commented on Steve’s rock-solid position on dressing for the water temperature & some of the flak he took for it.
Cold water prophets were few and far between back in the day, and a lot of people are alive today because both Steve and Eric refused to water-down and short-change cold water safety. They were two of the best among us.
Moulton, you’re absolutely right as usual. We need to hear the sea tales, not just so the younger generation can see what’s possible but also so they don’t have to reinvent the wheel. One of Eric’s favorite quotes was from Genl Bismarck: “Only a fool learns from his mistakes. I prefer to learn from the mistakes of others.” If this site is at all helpful or inspirational to kayakers, then it’s serving it’s purpose.
Thanks for your continuing contributions 🙂
Sean/Moulton–good to hear your comments. I’l like to pass along a quote I took from one of my interviews with Steve: “The ocean is like the house kitty that lays in your lap and then, all of a sudden, bites you in the nose.”
Nancy, that is so true about learning from the mistakes of others. Some things, particularly in outdoor “adventure” sports, you really don’t want to learn by “direct personal experience.” That’s why we should treat with respect and gratitude those, like Michael Powers and Sean Morley, who have the courage to stick their necks out and share their mistakes with the rest of us mistake-prone mortals. Hose them down enough and one day – it doesn’t take all that long – all the reporting dries up.
Eric and I had this little discussion about the state of the hose-down issue in the SK community. I said “It’s a culture. Culture is malleable. All we have to do is define that sort of behavior as totally unacceptable”. He said, “Yes, make the respect and gratitude point over and over again and it will stick”. So we started a little experiment. It’s not over yet, but in the past year, I think a lot of progress has been made, and the more mates who pass that message along, the faster we’ll get the job done. It’s our sport. If there’s something we don’t like about it…
I love the feline quote Will. Gets right to the point. I told a paddler the other day that the difference between paddling on really cold water and the warmer stuff was like a pussy cat vs a Siberian tiger. Not just a little more dangerous, but many orders of magnitude more dangerous. Solo? That takes it up many more orders of magnitude. I was thinking at the time about Robert Weitzel, a 57 year old paddler who died on Lake Superior June 17th of this year. It was a solo circumnavigation attempt, and on the day he died, conditions were 42F water, 4-6 foot waves, wind near 30 knots, and he was attempting to round a point. According to an article in CanoeKayak, he was wearing a wetsuit and “paddling jacket”. Max of “6 years” paddling in a sea kayak augmented by some symposium courses, and he unwittingly placed himself in a “wet exit and you die” situation that would give the best paddlers I know second thoughts. Good man, member of the tribe, very sad story. Wish I’d had 20 minutes with him. Among other things, I would have shared Andy Taylor’s quote about what constitutes a wetsuit: “A 3mm farmer john with some polypro and an anorak when paddling the Mendocino Coast is not “wearing a wetsuit”. So many paddlers have no idea…
I appreciate the depth of your remarks. One of the things Steve disliked was the marketing of the kayaking industry. Retailers put an emphasis on selling gear and accessories since there is money to be made from that. No need to worry anybody about the risk involved. As Steve noted about paddlers, “…all they’re worried about is their gear. People’s brains don’t work if they fall in the water. Their brains go to pot. They’re not making any sense. ‘Oh, my transceiver. Oh my whatever’– and all this stuff floating around. They’re not worried about their boat. The industry as a whole ignores the in-waterness of the whole thing. You have to be good to even think in the water. All of it requires practice. Kayaking is not a book sport. The ocean doesn’t hurt you very often, it kills you. You’re just going to drown.”
This is very true, Will…unfortunately desire to sell gear is sometimes put before the welfare of the paddler. I saw this first in the diving industry, where you are rushed through learning how to snorkel right to the much more expensive SCUBA gear. Snorkeling skills are very important from a safety standpoint in my mind, and someone well trained in this skill is much more comfortable under the water, BUT snorkeling equipment is cheap compared to a tank, regulator, boyancy compensator, dive computer, etc. ($$$). When the gear malfunctions, whether diving or kayaking (and it will on occasion, usually at the worst time) all you are left with is your conditioning, skills, and knowledge.
Tony
Tony, the other thing that annoyed Steve was the politics involved with the sport of kayaking. Too many people were involved with “influence peddling”, “ego boosting”, and “power grabbing”. He stopped writing his informative newsletters because of “theft of rhetoric”. He found a few individuals would co-opt his information and pass it off as their own. Among these people were the so called “gurus” of kayaking. I had my own issues with these BSers who thought the sport was about them.
Will, thank you for that quote. It sums up so much about kayaking that Eric (and clearly Steve) disapproved of. And the consequences of ignoring the “in-waterness” of the sport.
Just so you know, I copied that quote. Thinking of using it in a future post. I know this issue has been broached before but it keeps coming up and probably deserves a re-visit some time.
Regarding the “theft of rhetoric” Will mentions, one of my pet peeves over the years has been a two-fold phenomenon: Those who take someone else’s observations and pass them off as their own, and reiterating what they’ve read somewhere without having any experience of their own to back it up. In the former case, credit is not given where it’s due (although in all fairness credit is often given), and in the later a lot of misinformation is spead as ‘gospel’ that could get unknowing paddlers in trouble.
I’ve seen some articles, and even whole books that were obviously pieced together from reading the work of others with no personal experience of the author involved. On the other hand, paddlers like Steve, Eric, and Derek wrote from their own experience. Even if some of it was controversial, it was never based on second hand knowledge.
Never saw that trio hanging out at the seamy intersection of Commerce & Safety. The green light for commerce lasts 2 hours and for safety 10 seconds. Derek and I locked horns on cold water, but he was an honorable man who spoke from his heart.
John, so so true for the books. Sometimes it astounds me. Someone who knows nothing placing “cold shock” in quote marks or prefacing it with “so called”. Not like this stuff is made up – it’s the best of the peer reviewed scientific and medical research, but I gotta watch the soapbox, don’t need another TR Blog rant award…
Wow, I was thinking about this amazing man today and came across this article and thread. I was one of the lucky kids from Mendocino that got to know him.
Will, I so hope that you can get his autobiography published. I’ve been waiting to read it for around 25 years!
Paco: I’d like to hear some of the stories you remember about Steve. Please let me know. –Will
I’d love to send you a few stories…do you have an email for that?
Paco: You can email to: cloven2766@mypacks.net Thanks, Will
Wow! It’s so great to hear the stories of those long ago days. I lived in Elk and spent many years working and playing with Steve and the other members of Force Ten; Connie Sinclair, Andy Taylor, Charlie and Steve Acker and Dave Mc Cucthen. At times we all worked together and after work would go out for a paddle. It was a new world for me not being a waterman but somehow they all had the patience to train me and I became a guide and worked at Force Ten for the next 15 years. Sometimes I think that Steve took me on as a challenge and put me through all the training techniques he could devise inorder to see what worked and what didn’t. He always seemed to be there to rescue me but also to chew me out and insist that I ‘do-it-right’. There was never an ok excuse for sloppy unprofessional ocean guiding. The seven thirty in the morning cold water swims to practice rescue techniques I will never forget. I learned from Andy and from Charlie and Steve Acker and Dave and Connie but when it came to the big days – 18 ft. waves and 35 knott winds I stood on the cliffs or the beach and watched while these truly natural almost super human waterpeople played and danced in the surf. Those were some of the best years of my life and there are so many great stories.
Ned: As with Paco, I’d like to hear more about the experiences you shared with Steve. Thanks for your comments. –Will
I grew up with Steve Sinclair’s brother Carl in Laguna Beach, CA, and Steve and Connie and their whole family used to visit us there. One time on my way to Oregon I stopped and visited Steve and Connie and took one of his cool Kayaks out in the Ocean, it was a great Kayak, that was 1994. Since then I have sort of developed a similar sport in the Oregon coast, surfing with an Aluminum River Canoe in the Ocean. I also brought round skimboards to the Oregon Coast back in the late 80’s, but they never caught on. I really want to build or buy a Force 10 Kayak to use on the Oregon Coast, I think it will work better than the Aluminum River Canoe, if anyone ever reads this message and knows about Force 10 Kayaks, the ones like Steve had, and where to get them, call and/or email me Leo at leosudnik@yahoo.com or 503-740-2816. Also I was a Pole Vaulter at Laguna Beach High School I only got to 9’6″. Steve told me he got drunk one time and tried to Pole Vault, and got like 15″ or so, wow, he was a super athlete, nice guy, him and his brother Carl as well. I spoke to his other brother on the phone once the whole family is very nice, but I have not seen any of them for many years. I am still an adventure seeker and will never forget the Force 10 Kayak I rode back in 1994.
Hey Leo, good to hear from you! Surfing the Oregon Coast with aluminum river canoes, huh? Wow. I want to see that. Would you be at all interested in doing a short blog post for this website on your new sport? I think it sounds really cool. Got any photos? Or video?
I saw Andy and Connie last fall – they are doing well. I hope to see them again soon – I’ve been trying to get over to the Mendo Coast for a couple of months to kayak and to see them and things just haven’t panned out.
I called you at the referenced number and left a message with my land line and email so you can get hold of me. I think I can put you in touch with Steve’s old Odyssea surf ski.
All the best,
Nancy
I am an old friend of Steve’s from his Claremont days . I know him in pre school. He was one radical guy. Always was.. I am still upset that he left us so early. I need to add to his legend. Someone just climb El Capitan with out ropes. Hard climb.. He says he was the first. Steve and his oldest brother Pete
( carl) in the early 1970’s climb it with out rope in a single afternoon and thought nothing of it. It was done as a lark. They worked as a team ,climbing on each other as need. Steve said they also used a piece of rope that they found on the way up..
Steve was a natural leader.. on the day his ” friend was swept out to sea and Steve fought his way out to “save him”. You need to understand that his friend had chosen to go out through the surf. I had seen training films when I was in the coast guard of surf boats being taken out in storm condition. It all a matter of timing so I did it. I made it out beyond the surf line and Steve followed. Steve being Steve is the one who thought that it would be fun. And he did not get mad at me for doing something so dumb. He saw possibilities and never let me know my action had upset him until I read this article. Sorry Steve I was just have fun. I followed Coach McCarty in a different way. I spent 25 years as a high school teacher. I only hope that I gave back something of what Coach McCarhty gave me. I really miss Steve … I hope I get to talk with him some day. Connie I am so sorry we lost him.
Hey, Robert, it’s so good to hear from you! Thank you for reading this article for your comment. It’s wonderful to hear more Steve stories. I had no idea he climbed El Cap, with or without rope. Wow. I hope all is well with you. Thanks again for your input.
A video of Force 10 kayakers.
Steve gave me a tape of this material in 1993 I think.
https://youtu.be/wpM5Y2gc4aE?si=NoxoBQa0WOydiJBI