Extreme Sea Kayaking Adventures

Exploring the Pacific Ocean Coast of California and Oregon

Sea kayaking books

Derek C. Hutchinson: a living sea kayaking legend

(note to my readers:  This post begins an occasional tribute to individuals who have made major contributions to sea kayaking)

Derek C. Hutchinson

Derek Hutchinson could be called the father of modern sea kayaking for his paddling prowess, long distance journeys, kayak designs, his entertaining talks and advanced bracing classes worldwide.  To me, he earns the title by penning the first book on how to sea kayak.  Called SEA CANOEING, it was published in 1976 and has been reprinted many times.  I bought the third edition, published in 1984, when it first came out, and it transformed me from a wannabe to a full-fledged sea kayaker (read more about what I and many top kayakers learned from this book and Derek by linking to: https://tsunamirangers.com/2010/12/28/four-ways-to-learn-sea-kayaking/).  From this book I learned how to outfit my kayak, how to navigate, how to surf, self-rescue, and roll my kayak.

In 2011, Derek Hutchinson enters the North Sea--once again!

Derek led a grueling North Sea expedition in 1976 from Felixstowe to Ostend.  This was a long open-sea crossing, which many kayaking mariners would agree is more difficult than a coastal expedition, because there are no landmarks to guide you along and you feel so vulnerable when out of  sight of land (at least I do).  He also paddled in the cold Aleutian Islands—without immersion clothing!

Derek Hutchinson's famous hat trick

And that brings me to an important aspect about Derek.  He is very knowledgeable and opinionated—downright cantankerous in fact!  If you ask him, he will tell you all about boat design, Alaskan paddles versus Greenland paddles, soft cover versus hardback books, and his development of self-rescues (for example, the “all-in” rescue).  And if you prod him a bit, he will describe and then show you his patented hat trick!  To see and hear him discuss various kayaking topics, click on http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1885031127921188402# and enjoy Derek pontificating in 2007 at the kayak symposium in Port Townsend, Washington. Note that not everyone present at Derek’s interview agrees with him on everything!

I don’t go along with him on some things either—for instance, his insistence that an advanced kayaker is unlikely to capsize and can at any rate roll easily on the first try in rough conditions and therefore should dress like a “sensibly turned-out hill walker” when kayaking, instead of in “a stinking, sweating, steaming and prickling” wetsuit “like an out-of-work frogman.”   I think he is dead wrong about that—as even experts can mess up big time on occasion and end up swimming (I’ve blown my roll and swam dozens, perhaps hundreds of times—of course, this could be because I’m a lousy roller).

One of Derek's many sea kayaking books

But even though I don’t always see eye to eye with Derek, I respect him for all he has contributed to sea kayaking.  He has designed over a dozen sea kayaks, he has written several seminal sea kayaking books, he has made long distance trips and surfed and did seal launches and landings and paddled in ice and wind.  He has developed innovative ways to rescue.  And he was the first modern kayaker to accomplish these feats, now standards of modern sea kayaking.  We have all benefited greatly from his contributions.

I owe Derek so much for what I know about sea kayaking, and for inspiring me to go for it and pursue my kayaking dreams.  Decades ago I tried his seal launch—and it worked, even 25 feet up!  And then I tried his seal landing—and it worked, even in big crashing surf on hard rocks.  So when Michael Powers and I wrote our book, EXTREME SEA KAYAKING, we asked Derek if he would write the foreword, and he graciously obliged.  We consider him our Sea Daddy, because even though we never took an on-water class from him, we absorbed every word he wrote.

Derek's latest DVD with University of Sea Kayaking--tall tales from an ancient mariner

Further, Derek is a great orator.  He is the most entertaining kayaking speaker I have ever heard.  He doesn’t need a multimedia show to keep his audience riveted.  His sharp mind and dry British humor, combined with his myriad experiences and unique perspectives gained over a long lifetime of paddling, make for a spellbinding talk.  If you ever get a chance to see and hear Derek give a presentation, and you have box seats for the symphony at the same time, give away your symphony tickets and walk right up to the front row and enjoy the Derek show.

Derek's first DVD with University of Sea Kayaking, and what he'll be teaching in San Francisco Bay next month

Though Mr. Hutchinson is getting up there in age, he still goes out and paddles, still designs and produces.  And he is still teaching people how to go “beyond the cockpit” in style.  For those lucky enough to be in the San Francisco area next month, Derek and Wayne Horodowich will be teaching a master on-water class on bracing and edging a kayak on October 8th and again on the 9th in Emeryville.  Sponsored by Bay Area Sea Kayakers (BASK), it will be a memorable seminar.  Contact Mark Silowitz at marksilOO@msn.com for more information.

Please share what you have learned from Derek C. Hutchinson, a living legend.  I didn’t have space to talk about all his books, his innovations, his years as a senior BCU coach, his sea stories, and his artwork and illustrations. So please, tell us your Derek story or share what you learned from him by commenting below this post.

THE FAT PADDLER

The book’s title says it all.  This just-published book by Aussie kayaker Sean Smith tells the story of an ordinary bloke who took up sea kayaking in earnest because he had to.  It’s not about a long sea kayaking expedition.  It’s about a fun-loving rugby rower out riding his scooter who was run over by a hit-and-run driver.  He got banged up pretty badly, and his femur was broken in two.  After recovering from that ordeal, he was in Bali for a rugby tournament when the terrorist attack on the nightclub occurred.  He witnessed the explosion, carnage, and confusion, and though he did not get blown up, he was emotionally traumatized.

Later, he was a passenger in a sports car and was nearly killed in a serious auto accident.  This time his pelvic girdle was destroyed, and he suffered internal injuries as well.  He details his recovery experience with straightforward language laced with dry down-under humor and understatement.  As a person who has also spent some time in hospital, I could relate to his suffering and depression.

His doctor told him he was morbidly obese and a prime candidate for cardiovascular disaster.  He quit smoking, toned down his partying, dieted, and began an exercise regimen.  Since his lower body didn’t work right, he took up sea kayaking to develop his upper body.  He relates a funny story of his first trip on flat water and how he capsized several times and had to endure the applause of little old ladies when he was towed to shore.  All kayakers should think back to their first excursions on the water and remember the awkward and embarrassing moments.  Fat Paddler has a knack for self-deprecating humor that really tickled my funny bone.

Fat Paddler moseys down the coast (photo by Jim Kakuk)

He had a strong desire to paddle among ice bergs and so traveled to America with a folding kayak and paddled here and there until he finally reached Alaska, his ultimate destination.  Since Australian waters are comparatively warm, he had no idea about drysuits, which are essential in the frigid Alaskan seas.  He wrote:

“It’s hard to describe the discomfort of a drysuit in a manner that gives the full sensory experience.  The rubber suit doesn’t breathe and it is immediately lined in sweat.  It becomes clammy and slippery on the inside, even as the cold outside air freezes your face and hands.  The neck gasket feels like a rubber garrotte, maintaining a constant pressure as each breath fights against your crushed windpipe.  I was having flashbacks to hospital and the respirator tube in my throat and struggled with the rising fear of being choked again.”

He started his famous website, www.FatPaddler.com to share his adventures and learning experiences and to help beginners with their trials and fears.  He also used his website to promote charitable causes.  One of these causes benefits leukemia research and features a 111-kilometer night paddling race called the Hawkesbury Canoe Classic.  Sean decided to enter the race and trained for it.   After weeks of preparation, the Classic happened and Sean went for it with everything he had.  Here is an excerpt from THE FAT PADDLER which indicates how tough the race was:

“When I passed the final checkpoint, almost eighteen hours had passed since the start of the race.  My pelvis was screaming, my hands were blistered and my hips now streamed blood into the boat from the pressure sores.  But I could see the finish line only a couple of kilometres away, and my pace picked up to full sprint, racing along the final stretch.  My Greenland paddle sang as it whirred through the water.  This was it, the final burst of energy before achieving the goal I’d set several months before.” 

Does the Fat Paddler finish the race?  You’ll have to read the book to find out.  After finishing the book, I discovered that Sean Smith, aka the Fat Paddler, is a wonderful human being, the kind of bloke you’d want to paddle with, to share a brew and a sausage on the barbie with.  He is unpretentious and a straight arrow.  He still loves to have a good time, but is now on the high path of a life worth living.  His inspirational writing style makes you feel good, like talking with a good friend.

In my office next to the creek, I devoured THE FAT PADDLER in 2 days

I read THE FAT PADDLER over a couple of days while sitting in the shade next to a beautiful little creek. It was an easy read, full of adventure and fun.  Filled with tribulations and triumphs, the book was a delight.  Erik the Red says, “Check it out!”

 

THE RAVEN’S GIFT, by Jon Turk

Can you judge a book by its cover?  No. You can’t.  Gazing at the cover of sea kayaking adventurer Jon Turk’s The Raven’s Gift (2009), I envisioned a tale of an arduous sea trek along the icy coast of Kamchatka.  And Jon did kayak there.  But that’s not what the book is about.  The book details Jon’s inner journey from the mundane world of civilization to the Real World and the Other World.

The book starts in 1970, when Jon was a chemist stuck in a lab.  While walking with his dog, he puts his face in some freshly dug dirt, smells the sweet earth, and is changed forever.  Senses awakened, he is now connected to the primordial earth spirit. Thirty years later, he and paddling partner Misha Petrov kayak in a storm along the Kamchatka coast and crash land on a beach near a town called Vyvenka, home of Koryak people—reindeer herders.  That is the last significant kayaking that Jon does in The Raven’s Gift. They are befriended by villagers and Jon meets Moolynaut, an elderly shaman who supposedly caused them to come to Vyvenka so Jon’s hip, injured in an avalanche, could be healed.

Since Jon is a scientist, he has a hard time believing that an old woman like Moolynaut can fix his damaged hip, when western medicine couldn’t.  She indicates that he will be healed by magic through intercession of the messenger god, Kutcha the raven.  This clash between shamanism and western logic is the crux of the book.

Jon consents to partake in a healing ritual which involves ingestion of magic mushrooms (amanita muscaria).  To find out if his hip is repaired, if he crosses the frozen Siberian tundra in the Real World, and if he journeys into another dimension in the Other World, you will have to read the book.  I will say he develops a relationship with ravens, which become his totem animal.  I will also say the book deals with life and death in an icy environment.

Jon Turk on the ice of the northeast Siberian coast

If I had to compare Jon’s book with a similar non-fiction work, it would have to be Carlos Castaneda’s The Teachings of Don Juan:  A Yaqui Way of Knowledge, wherein Carlos is tutored in the ways of Yaqui sorcery by Don Juan Matus, who gives Carlos peyote and datura.  The obvious similarities lie in that both Jon and Carlos took psychedelics to reach the Other World, both authors were taught by traditional native people, and ravens and other totem animals figure prominently.  The difference is that Jon learned about healing from a shaman and Carlos learned about power from a sorcerer—white magic versus black magic.

Another difference is Jon’s story rings true, while Carlos’ tale seems too fantastic to be based on actual occurrences.  Castaneda’s book, though a best-seller, has been criticized as fiction masquerading as fact.  One other difference—Carlos has a whiny tone to his writing and is always skeptical of Don Juan’s teaching until he gets his ass kicked.  Jon, who has a Ph.D. in chemistry and is admittedly influenced by his past learning, is respectful of his teacher and tries his best to understand what he is experiencing.  In my opinion, Jon’s book is far superior to Carlos’.  But you should judge for yourself.

Here is an excerpt from The Raven’s Gift:  “Even the most cynical Western observer has to appreciate that Stone Age hunters survived through keen observation of their surroundings and intimate connectivity with the landscape and its creatures.  And out here, I felt that if people opened their senses wide enough and became sufficiently in tune with their surroundings, I have no trouble believing that they could make tribal pacts with wolves.”

Jon Turk

In conclusion, this well-written book centers on the apparent dichotomy of logic versus magic, of the Real World versus the Other World.  Does Jon bounce back and forth from logic to magic or is he able to find unity in the two concepts?  I literally can’t say.  I do know the book builds in intensity and certain events occur that made it so I could not put it down.

If you are looking for a book from a sea kayaker who thinks like we do and who embarks on a long journey of transformative self-discovery, then you will benefit from reading The Raven’s Gift.  I did.

The Raven’s Gift is available in bookstores and online at outlets such as Amazon. Eirik the Red says “Check it out!”

Four Ways to Learn Sea Kayaking

I learned how to sea kayak from a book.  Written by Derek Hutchinson, it was called SEA CANOEING.  From that book I learned how to roll, how to outfit a sea kayak, how to surf and seal land, and how to stay safe on the water.  But that was not the only way I learned how to sea kayak.  To advance further I had to find better ways to learn.  Let’s take a look at four good ways to learn sea kayaking, starting with the most available and working up to the highest way to gain knowledge and skill.

I'm reading about rock garden "transition zones" in John Lull's SEA KAYAKING SAFETY & RESCUE book

Books and DVDs

I have a complete library of sea kayaking books, which I refer to regularly.  If I want to hone up on piloting and dead reckoning, I read David Burch’s FUNDAMENTALS OF KAYAK NAVIGATION.  When students ask for a good kayak surfing book, I suggest Nigel Foster’s SURF KAYAKING.  My library ranges from basic books such as John Dowd’s SEA KAYAKING to specialty books on dangerous marine animals and living off the sea to destination books such as the one I’m reading now, Simon Willis’ THE SCOTTISH SEA KAYAK TRAIL (which is a very interesting read, full of gorgeous photos).

Magazines are also good sources.  I regularly read Sea Kayaker magazine and a plethora of others.  I also read club newsletters such as Bay Currents from the Bay Area Sea Kayakers.  Many websites and kayaking blogs present useful information and comments from readers.  The point is you can learn a lot about sea kayaking by reading—constantly.

3 interesting acquisitions to my Sea Kayaking DVD collection

DVDs are a good way to see techniques in motion.  I’m slowly collecting good ones which range from Brent Reitz’ FORWARD STROKE CLINIC to University of Sea Kayaking’s BEYOND THE COCKPIT.  There are many good DVDs out there, so check them out.  Also, you can watch kayaking techniques on YouTube and the like, which is free!

Classes

Because I learned from a book without a teacher to correct my mistakes, I now have a funny-looking roll.  It works, but it’s ugly. There is no doubt it is much better to learn from good teachers, as they can answer questions, show techniques, and provide feedback so you can improve quickly.

A few weeks ago, I posted a blog on Helen Wilson’s rolling clinic.  Literally, in one day she taught 3 people to do a basic roll and taught Jim Kakuk to do a Greenland-style hand roll.  Not many could learn that quickly just from reading a book!

Anders Landin (in red) lectures on surf safety

I took classes on river canoeing and river kayaking, and both really helped me gain confidence and skill on the river.  My wife took a forward stroke class from Olympic gold medalist Greg Barton, and afterward she paddled nearly twice as fast.  My advice is to read books and watch DVDs, and whenever possible, take an on-water class with a qualified instructor.

Mentoring

What’s better than taking a class?  Having an expert train you one-on-one over time.  The ideal learning situation is to have an experienced boater teach you the ropes for a year or more, introducing you to ever-greater challenges in increments.

For instance, senior Tsunami Rangers take eager and adept but less experienced kayakers under their wing and teach them increasingly complex techniques in bigger and bigger seas.  They start in small surf and practice perfectly (“Perfect practice makes perfect”) until the protégé asks for more difficult water.  After mastering that, the squire is ready to graduate to rock gardens and caves, under the watchful eye of at least one caring mentor.  Thus far, we have never had a protégé fail our test to become a Tsunami Ranger officer.  Mentoring is the reason.

Discovery

In my mind, discovery is the highest form of learning.  If you’ve been fortunate enough to read good books, take classes, and be mentored, you are well on your way to becoming a complete kayaker.  But there is always learning to be had.  You don’t know it all; in fact, for most people, including myself, I think it’s safe to say that we really don’t know much about the sea, about boats.   It takes a lifetime.

The highest form of learning is through personal discovery

At some point we become our own teachers.  We seek new knowledge, new frontiers, and experiment with what works and what doesn’t.  Discovery is not the fastest way to learn, nor the easiest, but for me it is the best.  I am so happy to discover something I did not know.  Like the time I grokked that when broaching, you can create a cushion of water in front of you to protect you from severe impact.  Or when I realized that I could plane with the waves when paddling in following seas with a strong wind behind me and go really fast.  The list of discoveries goes on.  Every time I paddle, I’m open to learning something new.

My new year’s wish to you is to be a reader and a watcher, a student of kayaking, and a teacher.  And may all your discoveries be timely!

I’d love to read your experiences as student and teacher.  I’d like to know something you discovered on your own.  And oh yes, which sea kayaking book influenced you the most?

The Tsunami X-1 Rocket Boat Breaks the Wave Barrier

Below is an excerpt from CONFESSIONS OF A WAVE WARRIOR.  As a youngster, I dreamed of becoming a frog man when I grew up, but though I had the chance while in the Navy, I let the opportunity pass me by.  I later learned to SCUBA dive and to kayak in rivers and the ocean.  In 1986, I got together with Jim Kakuk and Glenn Gilchrist, and we formed the Tsunami Rangers ocean adventure kayak team.  Then we took it a step further and invented a new type of kayak that could help us master the marine environment.  Here’s the story…

 The X-1 Breaks the Wave Barrier

On a sheet of scratch paper, I sketched an ideal kayak, a sleek Kevlar-armored sit-on-top boat, fifteen feet of glistening sinew, which had rocker (like the curved rockers on a rocking chair) for maneuvers, big hatches to easily store gear, and a kick-up rudder to track in wind and currents.  Glenn took the drawing and used his naval architect magic to draw up detailed plans for our first boat, the Tsunami X-1 Rocket.  We called it the X-1 because it was experimental, and we loved The Right Stuff and everything about test pilots and experimental planes.  We were impressed that Chuck Yeager’s X-1 broke the sound barrier.  We intended to break the wave barrier in our X-1. Jim looked at Glenn’s design and said, “I’ll build that boat.”

And so Jim spent weeks constructing a mold for the X-1.  One day we had a party at the shop.  Out popped the first X-1 Rocket.  It was made of translucent fiberglass and seemed very delicate.  We took it to Tomales Bay and put her through the paces. It looked so graceful on the water that I nearly cried.

Eric Soares, Glenn Gilchrist, and Jim Kakuk with the Tsunami X-1

Jim made two more boats, this time out of heavily reinforced, “bulletproof” Kevlar. The X-1 designated for my use he painted crimson.  We called it “the Red Boat.” We tried the second generation boats out on the pond next to the Berkeley marina.  We raced, we braced, we rolled them with quick-release SCUBA tank straps secured at our waists.  Everything checked out.  We decided to form a corporation and go into production.  I would be president and in charge of marketing our products, Jim would be the operations chief and builder, and Glenn would be lead designer. We called our company Tsunami Products, to associate the enterprise with our kayaking team and to leave open the possibility of making and selling ancillary goods and services in the future.

Since we had no money, I decided to use “guerrilla marketing” tactics that I taught in my promotions class at the university.  My first bright idea was to earn an endorsement from the Navy SEALS and to get them to use the X-1 for insertions when they needed to avoid radar detection and be able to get on and off the boats at will.

I contacted SEAL teams 3 and 5 in Coronado and arranged a demonstration.  Jim and I drove down the coast with my Red Boat and Jim’s kayak, the Blue Boat.  Guess what color it was?

We stopped at La Jolla Beach and surfed the boats, to make sure they could perform in rough water.  We should have done this long before our presentation to the SEALs, but didn’t.  As it was, the boats surfed beautifully, just as Glenn had designed them to do.  The hatches were relatively watertight, and the rudder worked as intended.  There was only one glitch:  the seatbelts came loose when under pressure, that is, when the boater was upside down in turbulent water and needed to roll. We determined that this was not a big deal since the SEALs would not be able to roll in any case. We took the seatbelts off the boats, cleaned them and ourselves up, and drove down to Coronado.

The sentry waved us through the gate at the Naval Amphibious Base, and we parked next to the beach, as instructed.  Our contact, a chief Boatswain’s Mate, greeted us cheerily and helped us unload the boats and put them next to the surf.  From nowhere, a squad of five SEALs materialized to check out the X-1s.

They encircled us as we gave our dog-and-pony show with the boats.  Some looked interested, others skeptical. Being the natural ham, I did most of the talking.  One big guy asked me a good question:  “Since these boats are made of Kevlar, are they bulletproof?”  After a sign from Jim, I indicated that they were tough but not bulletproof.  “Good,” he said.  “If they were bulletproof, we couldn’t sink them if we needed to.  But you say they’re tough.  Are they tough enough for me to jump on?”

Taking the bait, I said, “Of course they are.”  As they listened to me, they looked at Jim for his reaction.  Jim looked worried.  The big guy guffawed and prepared to leap and stomp on the bow of the Red Boat with his combat boots.  I watched confidently.

The big guy jumped high in the air with his knees tucked in.  His boots came down on that boat with everything he had.  Jim expected the bow deck to get crushed.  The big guy’s boots didn’t dent the boat but instead slipped off the slick finish and flew high in the air.  He landed hard on his ass in the sand, stunned. I pointed my finger at him and went “Bwa ha ha ha!” The SEALs glowered at me.

I ignored their glares and continued my pitch.  “Okay, who’s ready to try the boat in the surf?”  Only one commando volunteered. I told him to walk into the surf until he was knee deep, then sit in the boat and swing his legs inside. Then put his head down and paddle like a madman until he made it through the break.  I instructed him to wait for the last wave of a strong set to pass, then again put his head down and follow the wave in to shore until he made it to shallow water, then jump off and drag the boat up.  He nodded, surveyed the water for a good five seconds, and took off.  After a few moments in the froth, he put his legs over the sides for stability.  This slowed him down, but miraculously he made it through the surf zone and back in again without capsizing.  Jim and I were impressed. This SEAL was indeed a water man made of the right stuff.

I asked them if they liked the boat.  They all said yes. I went for the close and said, “What  colors do you want on the boat, grey, black, or grey/black camo?”  They chuckled at my attempt, and asked if we made a two-man boat.

We were curious as to why they needed a double kayak.  They replied that they paddle in two-man teams, and they might need to put a wounded guy in the front cockpit. Jim said that we were working on a double kayak and would let them know when it was ready.  We all shook hands, and Jim and I hefted the boats onto the truck feeling that the day was a success, even though we did not make a sale or obtain an endorsement.

On the way out I spotted a SEAL commander I used to know years ago in the Navy.  I yelled out his nickname, and he walked over.  We chatted a few minutes.  The other SEALs looked at me like, “Who is this guy?” I put my mirrored sunglasses on and acted mysterious as Jim and I drove away.

Well, I never did become a full-fledged Navy frogman, but I did metamorphose into a Tsunami Ranger, which was even better in my book.  True, I didn’t earn hazardous duty pay from Uncle Sam, but I got to decide what our missions would be, and that has been very rewarding.

Eric Soares breaks the Wave Barrier in an X-1

Oh, by the way, a week after our trip to Coronado, I broke the wave barrier in an X-1.

A note from the author:  place your CONFESSIONS OF A WAVE WARRIOR book order by December 13th, 2010, and you will receive it before Christmas. 

Want to read another excerpt from the book?  Read “Hitting the Wall” in the fall 2010 issue of California Kayaker Magazine (www.calkayakermag.com).