Sea kayaking activities

Baleen, Bruises, and Beer; or The Whale That Mistook my X-15 for a Large White Sardine

By Tsunami Ranger Steve El Rey King

Near the end of June and during the first few weeks of July this summer large numbers of humpback whales were seen on a daily basis south of the Golden Gate Bridge, especially close to shore in Pacifica and Half Moon Bay, California. National and local television stations showed wonderful footage of this amazing gathering of humpback whales as well as dolphins, pelicans, sea gulls and numerous other bird species all feeding on an abundance of bait fish close to shore.

It’s common to see the mists of whale spouts rising above the sea from the shore just south of Princeton Harbor at Surfer’s Beach. Lucky whale worshiping people like me have also seen lunge feeding, spy hopping and occasionally breaching.

A spyhopping whale imitates a periscope.

A brief definition of these behaviors is appropriate to frame the experience I had on July 9th a few hundred yards off the beach on a warm sunny day with a light breeze. Lunge feeding is when one or more humpbacks surface vertically with their mouths open, filling their lower mouth area with large volumes of water that contain fish or krill. The water is then pressed up to the upper jaw which closes while it squeezes the water and food through the baleen attached to the upper jaw, capturing the food. At times two or more whales will surface side by side lunge feeding. This sight elicits squeals of delight from dozens of people standing on the shore or in a boat with cameras, binoculars and cell phones. Spy hopping is when the whale rises vertically straight out of the water, mouth closed, allowing the individual to literally see what is above the surface. This behavior is more common in less clear water when it is more difficult to for the whale to see. Breaching is of course when a whale leaps fully out of the water, landing with a loud splash.

Many people who paddled kayaks out of Moss Landing in Monterey Bay witnessed whales doing this in the summer and fall of 2015 when large numbers of whales took up residence in the Bay. I spent several afternoons observing this wondrous spectacle in my Tsunami X-15 kayak, always seeking to maintain the appropriate and legal distance of 100 yards from the marine mammals. Whales of course choose their own path and my fellow Tsunami Ranger, Scott Becklund and I had whales surface and dive at times within a few feet of our motionless kayaks.

It is especially interesting that the epicenter of whale activity south of Princeton Harbor was directly in front of the elder Tsunami Ranger Michael Powers’ house. It’s almost as if the breaching, feeding, and magic of these beautiful and mystical sea creatures were being summoned by the Viking architecture that is a local landmark and part of the fabric of Miramar Beach. One day I had just returned to Michael’s house after our weekly ritual 6-mile hike among the redwoods in the Purissima Open Space Reserve and when we got out of the car we saw many whales lunging and spy hopping close to shore. I went home, collected my X-15 wash deck kayak and launched just north of the Miramar Beach Inn. There were also a few people on paddle boards just outside the lines of surfers.

A whale surfacing near a paddleboarder - eek, pretty close! — Eek, pretty close!

I launched through very small surf, paddled out about 75 yards and began to take in the spectacle with an elevated heartbeat, soul awakened and camera tethered to my life vest. Within a few minutes a whale rose out of the water lunge feeding right next to a person on a paddle board. Shortly after that two whales surfaced lunge feeding close to several surfers who also were elated by the close proximity of these leviathans. I paddled around for about 2 hours and took photographs up and down the “alley” of whales who were spy hopping and lunge feeding on a regular basis. I had paddled south a bit toward Half Moon Bay when I saw a whale blow about 100 yards away. I paused as it appeared it was heading in my direction. I hoped to take another photograph when she or he surfaced to breathe.

It's always fun trying to hold position while capturing that great photo op! — It’s always fun trying to hold position while capturing that great photo op!

Then the whale gracefully and silently lifted out of the water perpendicular to me and placed his upper jaw across the cockpit of my kayak and lowered his upper jaw onto my thigh across the boat, pinning my leg very hard, essentially squeezing down as they do to force water and fish through the baleen. It did not work of course as his lower jaw was stuck on my hull. It hurt quite a bit and I was clamped briefly onto my kayak (I could have tickled its baleen) until he released and slid back into the water, rolling me out of the kayak and capsizing me. I flipped the boat up and climbed back in. My thigh really hurt and I thought maybe it was broken. As I got into the cockpit I noticed a small fish in my foot pedal area, clearly part of what the whale was trying to eat; at least that was what he first thought.

I was alone and could not quite believe what had just happened. I was able to move and bend my leg, so it was not broken but I was in a lot of pain. It took 15 minutes or so for the pain to subside. I did have a cold “first aid” beer in my boat, so I drank it and continued following and photographing the whales for another hour. When I got home my leg was bruised underneath and around the knee, and was stiff and painful for the next 5 days, but it got better so no permanent damage I believe. I went to yoga class and was able to do most of the Vinyasa postures, so things looked good.

Clouds of birds feeding off the rich waters with the whales

I did take my daughter Lena and her friend out the next day. There was a lot of wind but we saw many whales feeding again all in front of Michael’s house up and down the beach close to shore! All quite remarkable. I do feel a powerful affinity and animation with these gentle and majestic giants.

Of course many ocean kayakers have had the great pleasure of being in the presence of various species of whales and other marine mammals. It’s part of the magic and mystery of open ocean kayaking. But I think my experience is unique. A humpback whale did breach last October in Monterey Bay and land on a double kayak, startling but not injuring the two paddlers who were on a tour to view the profusion of whales in the bay last summer and fall. But so far no one has reported being bitten by a whale.

I have enjoyed the various explanations put forward by the many people I have shared this experience with, from ”spiritual totem with mystical implications” to “gee, what did you think would happen if you followed them around while they were feeding?” to “must have been a male protecting the female and her young” or “your white boat in the not clear water looked like a ball or school of fish”. So please create your own explanation for what happened to me or better yet, paddle and maintain a safe distance, and revel in the presence of these magical marine mammals yourself. Then support or continue to support marine conservation NGO’s that are seeking to protect and enhance the future of marine mammals and ocean ecosystems around the world so we can always have the possibility of this miraculous experience happening to anyone (the experience of paddling with whales, not the bite!)

One of the great privileges of sea kayaking is the opportunity to witness such miracles.

Lessons Learned

Paddling in a skirted kayak can reduce the possibility of having one’s legs pinned onto the deck of a kayak by a lunge feeding whale (but I love my X-15!)

Paddling among whales is likely safer when they are not lunge feeding or breaching. When they are lunge feeding it is wise to allow even more than the 100 yards of distance required by the Marine Mammal Protection Act.

Question: I wonder if my white kayak in murky water may have looked like a fish ball or school of shimmering fish, so maybe darker kayaks are less likely to attract a lunge feeding whale? Are dark kayaks safer?

Don’t watch movies like “The Shallows” (which I did the week before the event) before having a whale engage you and your kayak in a case of mistaken identity. This movie shows a very persistent great white shark chewing up metal buoy. To a kayaker, it’s unnerving.

Finally, as member of the Tsunami Rangers I have been trained in a variety of ocean kayaking skills and have always been taught that anything can happen on the ocean. But I have not found an account of this sort by a kayaker in the literature yet. I did however, find a video of two divers who were nearly swallowed by two large adult lunge feeding humpbacks, missing then by a few feet only a couple of yards from their boat.

I have a deep respect for these majestic marine mammals. I have no desire to cause them any stress as they enjoy the richness of the waters around Half Moon Bay. In the future I will stay back well beyond the 100 yard limit, and I will exercise even more caution when they are lunge feeding!

Want to see some video footage of this amazing event? Check it out at: http://abc7news.com/society/whale-watchers-flock-to-pacifica-for-stunning-show/1410951/?cid=abcn_fb and feel free to share your close encounters with marine mammals below!

Greatest Hits “And Misses” of the Tsunami Rangers Part II – The Launch

By Tsunami Ranger John Lull

Editor’s Note: This is Part II of a multi-part series, Greatest Hits “And Misses” of the Tsunami Rangers. In this post, TR John Lull gives us his “Greatest Hit”.

Eric Soares breaking the wave barrier… “I paddled like hell up the face, barely making it over, only to be confronted by another wave, and another, until I finally broke free.”

Greatest Hit: On a late Summer afternoon way back in the early ‘90s, I pulled into a coastal coffee shop for a double espresso on my way to a Tsunami Ranger multi-day kayak camping trip on the southern Oregon coast. Our general plan was to launch the next morning and paddle several miles south to a secluded cove near “Dreamer Island” and set up camp. Several people in the shop were discussing the strong wind blowing out of the northwest. I overheard the following comment: “I sure wouldn’t want to be out on a boat today”. My thought was these people don’t know anything about the seaworthiness of a kayak, so what do they know? At least that’s what I tried to believe. Once back in the car I started to worry that my boat might blow off the car rack as I headed to our rendezvous. I was hoping the wind would die by the next morning. Wishful thinking.

Dreamer Island on a flat day - yeah, right! — Dreamer Island on a flat day – yeah, right!

The next day eight of us began packing kayaks on a windswept beach. That’s right, the wind didn’t die; if anything it increased in strength. The damp sand was blowing waist-high, sandblasting our kayaks and gear while the waves roared out on the ocean and the sky was full of mist. Not a good sign. Dave Whalen produced a weather radio and we listened to a description of the conditions (which we could very well see for ourselves): NW wind to 35 knots with stronger gusts; seas 10 to 12 feet. A passing tourist eyed us warily and finally shook her head telling us we were out of our minds. Inwardly I couldn’t help but agree, but then again we’d be getting a free ride going downwind. What could possibly go wrong? So of course no one voiced the idea of aborting the mission.

It gets windy there...real windy. — It gets windy there…real windy.

It was true that we could run with the wind once out at sea but first we had some obstacles to overcome. After crossing the lagoon, we would have to transport heavily loaded kayaks fifty yards through the sandstorm across the beach, launch into a substantial surf zone, and get past the rocky gauntlet to the south where we could see huge waves crashing in a welter of whitewater over and through the jagged rocks. Worst of all, we would have to perform these tasks in howling wind with little or no chance of communication once on the water.

After floating our kayaks across the lagoon, we stumbled our way across the beach with the kayaks, took a breather, and stared out at the raging maelstrom in front of us. The surf zone stretched out a long distance with several rows of large breakers. Foam was flying everywhere off the tops of the waves. We discussed two strategies. The first was to fight our way straight out through the surf until we reached the open sea, then turn south and paddle around the rocky point. The second was to stay inside the surf zone, in the “soup,” working our way south, then look for a sneak route through the rocks and out to sea. We decided on the latter because it would be easier to deal with any problems close to shore where we could land quickly. We launched one by one in a predetermined order. Eric Soares and Michael Powers were paddling Tsunami X-2’s (double washdeck kayaks) single-handedly; Jim Kakuk and Bill Collins were on an X-2 together; Bonnie Brill, Dave Whalen, and James Brooks were paddling X-1’s (single washdeck kayaks), and I was paddling my nimble Mariner Coaster. The order swiftly turned to chaos once we were on the water. There is something about strong wind and breaking waves that foil the best laid plans. In 35-knot winds you have to be able to take care of yourself.

Wind-sculpted sand dunes — The wind-sculpted sand dunes

After launching into the surf I realized that, as usual, the waves were even larger and more powerful than they looked from on shore. I followed Eric and Bonnie along shore, fielding the breakers as best I could. Bonnie capsized and swam a couple of times but valiantly remounted her kayak and continued on. Eric and I stayed with her and provided moral support as the rest of the group passed us by. Luckily I only had to roll once; not my favorite activity in a heavily-laden sea kayak in the wind and surf. Jim, Bill, and James continued on south toward the rocks and breakers. Dave paddled a bit farther out into the surf, blew south, entered the rocks, and we lost sight of him. Michael disappeared altogether. We didn’t see him again until evening when we found out he had simply decided to get the hell out of the surf zone by paddling straight out to sea (the option we had decided against doing), so he was on his own.

Even though we’d lost sight of the others, Eric, Bonnie, and I stayed together until we saw that Jim, Bill, and James had landed on the beach just inside of the rocks. We soon joined them, thinking this might be our campsite for the night, and had a pow-wow regarding what to do next. There were two narrow passageways out through the rocks. The only problem was the interaction of strong surge-induced currents, vicious wind, and most of all, the large unpredictable waves crashing through. Then we saw Dave standing high on a bluff to the south, waving to us and giving us the thumbs up sign. If he could make it, so could we!

Pounding surf… and rocks. All in a days’ work for the Tsunami Rangers.

Eric and Bonnie went first. I launched right after them. Eric paused and was trying to decide between the two passages when a huge wave closed out and crashed through the left passage. That made my decision easy. I headed for the right passage. I heard Eric yell at Bonnie to follow me. As I fought my way out, climbing up and over progressively larger walls of water, I realized this would be a very bad scene if one of these foaming monsters decided to break. Just then I looked up about fifteen feet to the crest of a huge curling breaker. It was starting to break just to my left so I angled right and paddled like hell up the face, barely making it over, only to be confronted by another wave, and another, until I finally broke free.

Now out on the open sea, I breathed a sigh of relief. All that was left was to clear the point in over-steepened, chaotic twelve foot seas, then ride the wind south to our destination. A sudden thought occurred to me: What about Bonnie, Eric, and the rest? They were right behind me and had to break the same wave barriers I did. I looked back and to my relief saw they had made it out, but soon lost sight of them as I returned my attention to the task at hand. I finally turned downwind and rode the waves past the end of the point. I still remember the exhilarating sensation of surfing those huge seas downwind with the spray flying against the backdrop of high rocky cliffs to the east, sea stacks ahead, and the wild open ocean to the west. It’s something you have to experience to appreciate.

All's well that ends well... a typical Tsunami camp at peace — All’s well that ends well… a typical Tsunami camp at peace

After rounding the point, I spotted Dave in the relatively protected waters on the lee side. We all regrouped there, except Michael who had continued on his own to our destination (or so we hoped at the time), then flew south with the wind. Thus began a week of kayaking, camping, and revelry.

Feel free to add your own greatest “hit” or “miss” in the comments below!

Adventure Kayak – Not Just For Sea Kayakers!

Editor’s note: This post is a follow-up to The Last Sea Kayaker which appeared on this website on March 17, 2014. I’ve been receiving Adventure Kayak for almost two years now, and it makes me very happy.

The Green Issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine

After Sea Kayaker Magazine shut down I was excited to receive my first edition of Adventure Kayak. What a cool magazine! Great photography, interesting articles, and a positive, inclusive vibe. With regard to photos, I like that they showcase stills with captions from a variety of locations. The messages conveyed are variously uplifting, thoughtful, or humorous and show the sport of sea kayaking over a broad spectrum. I appreciated the message in that first issue about the editorial shift from service to stoke: why we paddle is more important than how or where. I couldn’t agree more.

In that issue I was interested in the article about kayakers who help scientists with research in order to understand ecosystems in aid of stewardship. One of the things I love about kayakers that most of them take stewardship seriously. Many of us clean up the environment regularly as an aspect of our sport. Check out PacOut Green Team as one prime example.

I was really happy to learn about the Ladies of the Lake Symposium. I’d never heard of it even though it’s been around for 10 years. The event reminds me fondly of Reef Madness’ sea gypsies and pirates. I love people who don’t take themselves too seriously. The Tsunami Rangers don’t take anyone or anything too seriously, including themselves. Just check out this one from our archives: https://tsunamirangers.com/2010/12/08/sea-kayaking-should-be-fun-not-s-e-r-i-o-u-s/

I enjoyed reading about the first Bay of Fundy Sea Kayak Symposium. It was great hearing about the challenging conditions: Paul Kuthe doing “a series of cartwheels that had onlookers cringing at the audible thuds of his bow and stern striking submerged rocks”. Yeah, baby! It was also good to know there were a variety of classes and conditions so not everyone got creamed. And as with the partnership between kayakers and scientists, it made me happy to hear about another opportunity for the kayaking community to help others as the Fundy area is socioeconomically depressed and the organizers of BOFSKS hope to reinvigorate the region’s tourist industry through the symposium.

That was my first issue. Subsequently, I have continued to enjoy Adventure Kayak Magazine. Virginia Marshall does a great job as editor and I love her articles. Her prose is simple, clear, and unpretentious. I also enjoy Tim Shuff’s pieces. Articles like “We Don’t Need No Education” and “Finding the Real Florida” really appeal to me, speaking of why we paddle. In fact, I enjoy all the magazine’s writers. One of my favorite issues of the magazine to date is The Green Issue, Spring 2016. I ate it up. From the photo of the Ontario Sea Kayak Centre’s gear cave (so organized!), to Neil Schulman’s piece on “Succession Planning” (that’s an interesting way to think about kayak touring and it was nicely followed up by Charlotte Jacklein’s “Catching the Late Show” encouraging us to go kayak camping), to the story about Nova Scotia’s Islands of Enchantment becoming protected as wilderness, the whole issue just felt so positive. Adventure Kayak’s message is simple and consistent: go out and have fun! See how beautiful the world is! Look how people are making positive contributions to make sure we can protect beautiful places so we can keep going out and having fun! There’s so much good stuff here you don’t have to be a kayaker to enjoy the magazine.

One other thing I‘d like to say about Adventure Kayak: I love that it comes out four times a year. I dislike getting monthly issues of any magazine: it’s just too much and I don’t have time and it kind of bothers me to have to toss them once I’m done. Four times a year in accord with the changing seasons is perfect for me. So that’s my two cents on Adventure Kayak: positive, inclusive, philanthropic, articulate, and timely. Thanks, guys, for all you do!

For more information on Adventure Kayak and Rapid Media’s other publications, check out https://www.rapidmedia.com/adventurekayak

Greatest Hits “And Misses” of the Tsunami Rangers!

By Captain Jim Kakuk

The following stories go along with the YouTube release of the full-length version of the Tsunami Rangers Greatest Hits. You can still buy the DVD on this website but now it’s free to download! At the end of this post click on the link and be sure to add your comments to the blog post.

The Greatest Hits was edited in 2003 from earlier films of the 80’s and 90’s with extra footage added in. Most of it I still like but some segments seem out of date to me now. Be sure to stay tuned for the sea story at the end of the film, my favorite part. Trying to pick out the greatest hits and misses with the Tsunami Rangers posed an interesting question. I do not have favorites but can think of a few that fit the description. Thinking about and trying to remember all the adventures and then rating them is hard, probably not even possible as each adventure had its own merit. Some of the most interesting times were in the beginning when we were trying to gain skills on our own and find ways to explore the exposed coast without getting creamed. Hence, my stories are from the early days.

Greatest Hit: Dreamer Island, Oregon 1985. Eric and I discovered this place on our way to the Port Townsend symposium. There is not one best time there, but Dreamer Island is a remote coastal area that for over 30 years has drawn us back many times. Nancy and Barbara talked about this in the last post. Returning to something you know always brings with it memories of earlier times. On Dreamer Island we have had lots of adventure and excitement, with plenty of time dreaming and scheming. The story at the end of the Greatest Hits video took place at Dreamer along with heaps of other escapades and skullduggery.

The biggest “hit” (literally) was during filming more than 10 years later. A big wave washed over the rocks and lifted Eric and his X-15 up and into the bow of the X-3 paddled by Allison and Gordon. This collision punched a hole through the hull and deck and broke the handrail of Eric’s boat. Eric, sitting in the cockpit of the washdeck, got a bruise on his thigh when the bow point came through, but was able to bail out quickly. He was lucky, as were Allison and Gordon.

Allison, Bill, and Eric laugh it up after the incident — All in a day’s work – Allison, Gordon, and Eric laugh it up after the incident

Greatest Miss: Channel Islands, California 1986. I had just finished the first three working boats from the X-1 series and Eric and I decided it would be a good idea to test them in a paddle to the Channel Islands off the coast of “Santa Barbaria”. It was Eric’s idea of course… but I agreed. Before we left Eric had asked permission but the Channel Island authorities said we had to have toilets on board. Well, without a yacht to escort us and stow our shit we could not land… and it seemed the appropriate answer was to stealth it. If caught we would just say we did not know and had paddled over for the day, oh and it got late so we had to stay… lucky thing we had our sleeping bags and food!

The crossing we chose was from the Gaviota State Park campground. We got a campsite, left the car, and with a little food and gear we headed out with great big plans. Alan Hillesheim, a new recruit, joined us on this miss-adventure and after a day’s drive from the Bay Area we were paddling across the Santa Barbara Channel headed for Santa Rosa Island – after all we could see it just across the way. Cutting through one of the busiest shipping lanes on the coast in small kayaks did not seem to concern us… we would just avoided the juggernaughts when they came through our path!

We quickly packed our boats and ate a bite. Alan had a sandwich. Eric had concocted a super protein drink which he and I consumed before pushing off into the unknown. We left the beach early under the cover of darkness, in camo gear with black paddles so no one would notice our departure. We followed a line of sight to the dark outline of the island some 30 miles away. It is worth noting that we had never done anything like this before and had no idea how far 30 miles on the open water really was. Of course the wind picked up half way there in the middle of the shipping channel. The wave bounce started to work on our bodies and senses and if you’re a kayaker you know what I am talking about. We stopped and ate something, usually a good thing, but not this time. Eric threw his PBJ into the water with the emphatic statement, “This tastes like shit”! Alan did not feel so bad so we reasoned that the super food drink was making Eric and me sick. The one smart thing we did on this trip was to turn back and head for the mainland before it was too late.

Look what we missed! A peaceful cove on Santa Rosa Island…

After many agonizing hours we landed on a beach close to Point Conception, north of the campground on a stretch of private property known as Hollister Ranch, or as the locals call it, “The Ranch”. There were houses on the hills above but it was late in the day and we found a beach that looked uninhabited. After choking down some sardines and laying out our sleeping pads, we fell into a sound sleep for the night. Early the next morning we were accosted by a private security guard, a skinny smart-ass kid full of his own authority. He ordered us to leave or he would call the sheriff and have us cited for trespassing. Alan was being the diplomat holding back Eric’s tirade. When the argument of “We don’t see no stinking private property signs!” did not hold sway, we packed up and headed slowly down the coast with the private dick following us in his little white pickup on the road above. When we landed once to piss, the kid beeped and signaled us to keep moving. Eric was steaming and shouting in battle language all the way back about the rich Herbert Republicans that live on this stretch of land hoarding it for themselves and keeping real people, like us, from touching it. Arriving back at the campground we were met with more verbal abuse by the local park ranger, who obviously had been informed of our pirate’s pursuits. Alan and I ignored the punk but Eric, as expected, had a very heated exchange and told him to get back to his piss-ant duties as campground servant and leave us alone.

$2.6 million will get you this house in Hollister Ranch

On the long drive back we decided that Southern California was not Tsunami Ranger country. Later in 2001 we did return to the Channel Islands and this time took the ferryboat over and stayed in a legitimate site in a campground on Santa Cruz Island for a week. Two days after arriving 9/11 happened and for the rest of our stay we had the entire island to ourselves… but that’s another story.

GREATEST HITS LINK: https://youtu.be/Stm5OdpKess

Kayak Resolutions 2016

I was at something of a loss as to what to do for the first blog post of the New Year. It was weird. For nearly four years I’ve managed to keep the blog going to honor Eric’s posthumous wish and it’s been fun. Searching for copy I’ve enjoyed trips to Kauai, Sardinia, and the Southern Oregon and Northern California coasts. I’ve enjoyed meeting cool people like Jeff Laxier and Cate Hawthorne of Liquid Fusion and interacting with great kayakers like Bryant Burkhardt and John Dowd, learning more about our kayaking community than I ever imagined. I’ve enjoyed working with the Rangers to produce posts on their adventures as the Tsunami saga continues. I’ve loved watching the team dynamic shift kaleidoscope-like from when Eric was alive to after he died with the change in guard and the addition of new Rangers, and to see that as the kaleidoscope continues to turn each new perspective is unique and beautiful.

Surfing in the rocks with Liquid Fusion Kayaking

The blog motivates me to get on the water, not an easy thing to do when one lives two hours away from the ocean. Plus I’m not so familiar with the coast in Oregon where I live now. If I was back in Half Moon Bay I’d have places to go and people to go with, but here in Ashland I only have jujitsu and yoga buddies, no paddling friends. Partly my fault, of course, as there are groups I could check out but I’ve always paddled the Tsunami way with a few close friends forming a rogue crew that’s basically a splinter group from mainstream sea kayaking. When you learned to kayak kamikaze style, it’s hard to fit in with people who belong to conventional organizations. Let’s face it – the Tsunami Rangers call those guys Herberts and a lot of them think we’re nuts.

Yeah, we're nuts... — Yeah, we’re nuts. Riding a wave up a rock in a cave.

But despite how hard it’s been to get on the water, up till now I’ve always had something to write about. Why then am I coming up empty handed? One reason is I have a new partner, and building a new relationship takes time and effort, kind of like learning to kayak. In fact, however experienced as kayakers we are each new boat requires adjustments. Just like learning to paddle a new boat, learning to be with someone new demands adaptation, and I’ve been adapting for the last nine months. This has tended to draw my attention away from the blog. The good news is my partner, Robert, likes to kayak with me. In fact, that’s how he and I got together in the first place. It happened like this.

Yeah, Robert's brave... — Robert’s so brave! Preparing to take a fall from Margaret Hubert.

It was December 2014, just before Christmas. It was a rough time for me. 2012 was my first Christmas without Eric. 2013 was my first Christmas without Eric or my dad, and my son and my mom and I scattered my dad’s ashes. 2014 would be Christmas without Eric, my dad, or my mom, and my son and I planned to scatter my mom’s ashes. So the holidays were pretty loaded for me. I was at the dojo one night and Robert asked me if I had any kayaking trips planned. It was storming out, cold and wet, and I fretfully told him, no, of course not: it was winter, the weather was terrible, and anyway all my kayaking friends were down in California. “I’ll go with you,” he offered.

I viewed him with disfavor. “Have you ever kayaked?” I asked. “No.” “Have you ever swum in the ocean?” “No.” Disfavor changed to disbelief. I thought he must be crazy. But right before New Year’s one of my friends committed suicide. Then right after New Year’s another friend was attacked and nearly stabbed to death at her home. I was traumatized. I knew I needed to go to the ocean and get on the water. I’m sure most of you know what I’m talking about. So I checked sea conditions and the next time I saw Robert at the dojo I asked, “You want to go kayaking?” “Sure,” he said, “When?” “Tomorrow,” I said. ”Uh, let me see if I can get off work,” he replied.

He did and we went. I got hold of Rebekah and together we took Robert to Trinidad. We had a great day. It was one of those wonderful January days that are more like summer than Summer on the Humboldt coast. The day started out a little active. I took a long swim trying to climb up a sea stack, and Robert nearly speared me in the legs doing a surf landing on a cobblestone beach. Because it was rough, we landed as a team. First Rebekah paddled in toward shore. She got to a safe place, checked out the surf, and when it was okay to come in she gave the signal. We paddled to where she was, and then at the next opening I paddled in to land first while Rebekah waited offshore with Robert. Once I was safe on the beach, Rebekah sent Robert in. After he landed she paddled in as well, so Robert got to experience that aspect of team kayaking. I was devoutly grateful to Rebekah for joining us since it made Robert’s first kayaking experience safe and controlled.

We kayaked on a hot lake in the desert in April

As we munched our lunch on the beach we watched the surf pound the cobbles. “How are we going to get off the beach?” Robert asked. How indeed! But there’s always a window (well, almost always). In this case the sea actually calmed as the day progressed and we had no problem getting off the beach. I took off first, wading into the water just past the break, jumping in to the X-0 and paddling hard to the safe zone. Rebekah helped Robert time the waves, got him off the beach safely and then followed after. We paddled leisurely back toward the put in. The water turned glassy, with just the lightest of swells. We paddled around stacks and rocks and rode the swells by the cliffs. Then we ran Robert around the pier pilings to teach him some skills before we finally beached our boats. That night Rebekah put us up at her place in Orick and we had a lovely sunset dinner on the beach near the mouth of Redwood Creek.

We salvaged an old inflatable double and went down the Rogue River in July

Since then I’ve been teaching Robert to kayak the Tsunami way, passing on the skills Eric taught me. I took Robert to local lakes and made him fall out and get back in the boat dozens of times, first in the X-15, then in the X-0. I even timed him as he got faster and faster at the maneuver. I taught him some basic strokes. I also took him to Crescent City and made him swim in surf for a couple of hours.

Diving under the waves at Crescent Beach

We crashed through waves, dove under waves, and swam parallel to waves in the troughs. We noted our position in the water using landmarks on shore and watched how the currents pulled us around. Then we swam against the longshore current. When we were tired I took him to the cliffs at Boardman State Park and showed him how to scout, watching the surge, timing the swells, noting foam lines, and observing how the water moves around and over rocks.

One of the greatest benefits of having Robert around is that he helped me rebuild the boat racks. My son had built them, but although the racks had lasted for at least five years through storms and winter weather time had taken its toll and they needed reinforcing and new roofs. Once the racks were solid Robert and I went down to Sebastopol and retrieved my X-3 from where it was stored at Maurice’s place. We took the long way home along the coast, spending the night in the back of the truck at a wayside in Willits, and went to Trinidad again where we got the X-3 on the water. So Robert got to paddle that boat as well. Now he’s had experience with all three of my Tsunami kayaks.

We had another good trip when we went to my old stomping grounds at Pillar Point. Support from the tribe was there as TR El Rey loaned Robert the old blue X-15 and TR John Lull came out with us to the Point. John gave Robert some useful tips and he got his first taste of some real surfing. Once again, we were fortunate with small surf inside – doable and very safe. Robert did well and we all had a lot of fun.

Robert has his first adventure with a Tsunami Ranger

One of the best things about taking Robert kayaking was his reaction the first time he got off the water with me and Rebekah that day at Trinidad. We pulled our kayaks to safety and then ran back into the water just to play and enjoy. It was such a beautiful day and we’d had so much fun and we love the water so much! When we got out for the last time Robert said, “I feel like a whole different person!” and there was a note of wonder in his voice. That’s when I knew we’d done the right thing.

This year Robert and I will kayak more. There will be practice sessions on the lakes. There will be trips to the Bay Area and Trinidad. But I also plan to explore my own back yard with my new paddling partner, beginning with Crescent City and its environs. And I want to take Robert to Mendocino to see the caves and visit our paddling friends in Ft. Bragg and Elk. Maybe we’ll do a kayak camping trip. I’ve even picked up an old inflatable double kayak from John Lull which we launched on the Rogue last summer. Frankly, while I have nothing against solo paddling I think it’s a lot more fun (and safe) to have a pal, so I’m more motivated to get out there than ever.

Me and Robert and Barbara and John's old X-2 as Leo takes it to its new home in WA — Me and Robert and Barbara and John’s old X-2 as Leo takes it to its new home in WA

That concludes my post for January, 2016. It’s all new, folks. Looking back I realize I actually did quite a bit of kayaking in 2015, with a lot of variety thrown in. I don’t know what the New Year will bring for the Tsunami Rangers and myself, other than to say it’s for sure gonna bring more Adventure! Stay tuned!

Happy New Year, everyone! May your kayak’s path be as smooth or bumpy as you could wish!