A Story of Three Paddles

A wing, a stick (Greenland) and a Euro went out for a paddle, who was fastest? If you consider only forwards paddling, the wing should beat the Euro which should beat the stick. In practice, the Euro beat the stick which beat the wing. I am most assuredly not an expert on paddles or even the basic forward stroke, but, my observations lead me to think that many folks paddling with a wing blade would be far better off with a Euro blade. Certainly, if you aren’t fast with a wing, you probably aren’t getting the benefits of the wing.

A friend of mine, with a good forward stroke, has done some comparative tests between wing and Euro blades, she is perhaps 10% (it’s hard to quantify) faster with a wing blade. That’s all good, and, if I capsize, I would really like to have a wing blade in my hands because the sweep roll is so easy with a wing as the paddle just seems to automatically have a nice climbing angle and give lots of support. My flat blade dives if I don’t have it in exactly the right angle and I end up muscling up the roll. The sad truth, however is, that like most kayakers, the most obvious place for me to capsize is in the surf and I never use a wing blade in the surf. Wing blades, despite what the aficionados of wing blades say, are not much good for anything but forward paddling. It’s desperately hard to rudder with a wing or brace into a wave; both of those things are pretty much mandatory in the surf.

For the next little while, I’ve put my wing blade away and am paddling with a Euro blade. It was awkward at first and I felt really slow, especially in wind, but, the more hours you accumulate, the better you get (within in reason, you can’t just reinforce a shit stroke), and I’m finally at the stage of being comfortable with the Euro blade even in head winds and sprinting to catch runners. Sure, both of those things would be easier with the wing blade, and, at some point I’ll go back, but for now, the Euro is my paddle of choice.

Into The Movement Tunnel

Summer northeasterlies interrupted by southerly changes driven by cold fronts is pretty much the story of an average south coast NSW summer. Yesterday, the northerly winds were gusty but not continuous in our little bay, occasionally blowing enough to move the kayaks rapidly across the water, but mostly not too strong. The southerly change came in early, before 10 am. I trolleyed the kayak down to the water before breakfast to practice some of the skills I have been learning via Online Sea Kayaking. As usual, I was dreading the first dunking even though I was actually feeling a bit hot in my sea kayaking kit. The coaches on OSK frequently exhort the students/viewers get wet to take away any lingering apprehension so I did a few rolls before beginning any skill practice. The water felt cold and I ended up putting a long john wetsuit on even though I always feel kind of stiff and clunky in a wetsuit.

Doug came down later and was kind enough to film my attempts at low and high recoveries and also a few rolls. I can actually roll quite well and only muff up when I think about what I am doing. But, I make the same mistake every year: I think about all the little tweaks I could make to change my successful roll into a dance of pure perfection and end up clunky and stiff and even blowing my first attempts so I have to set up all over again to roll up. While this is good for practising hanging about upside down without panicking it never seems to change my successful roll into a roll of such elegance that other beach goers swoon. I should learn that getting up is really all that matter.

It’s really instructive to video your performance as so often you feel like you’ve got something really nailed and then you look at the video and see that – like me in these photos – your arms and elbows are all in the wrong places and you haven’t even set up appropriately! Kelly Starrett used to talk about the “movement tunnel” and the importance of setting up correctly before starting the movement. It’s a good analogy, as a train that is not on the train tracks is going nowhere and certainly cannot run smoothly through a tunnel.

Merry Christmas From the Last 12 Years

I always say, “we always do something fun on Christmas day,” and then I looked back through our database to see what exactly we did on “this day in history” since arriving in Australia in 2012. Here is the chronological list:

2012: My first normal/average Christmas in three decades spent at my brothers house on the Georges River. Although it wasn’t completely normal because I paddled there from Woronora in a sea kayak and Doug paddled home. We had my Mum with us and only two kayaks so one person drew the short straw and had to drive! I’m pretty sure Doug and I went swimming in the Georges River which is fun when the tide is running fast because you could jump off my brothers jetty and swim comfortably staying in place as the current ran by. We left Sydney on Boxing Day for our first big Australian road trip.

2013: We were house sitting in Cairns over the sweat season and camped up at Davies Creek with some Cairns friends. We rock-hopped along Davies Creek and went swimming.

2014: Our worst Christmas. We were living in our caravan and were beginning the tradition of house-sitting somewhere over the Christmas holidays. The Christmas holidays are mad in Australia and the best thing to do is travel nowhere. We had a house sit organised in Wonthaggi but it fell apart on Christmas Day and Doug and I left Wonthaggi to drive to Sydney and spent Christmas night in our caravan in a free campsite somewhere in blasting heat. A bit grim.

2015: We were house-sitting in Wodonga and went down to the Murray River to swim. It was hot, but the house-sit was quite good as it was within walking distance of Macdonald Hill and some nice reserves where you could walk all over the hills.

2016: We walked the Bingie Bingie Track from Bingie Bingie Point to Coila Lake and went swimming. It was hot and we were house-sitting in Moruya.

2017: I ran all around Mount Alexandra in the southern highlands from the house-sit we had near the top of Mount Gibraltar.

2018: Mike, Doug and I paddled from Bermagui to Hidden Valley for a lovely couple of days. It can be hard to land at Hidden Valley but we had excellent conditions.

2019: Doug and I paddled to Nelligen from our house to have Christmas lunch with Rose and Mike at Mike’s place on the Clyde River. It was a long paddle and I was suitably tired at the end of the day. We missed the tide in both directions.

2020: Doug and I paddled north from our home bay to a secret little cove on the Murramarang Coast for a lovely night of camping. Fifty four kilometres in two days which seemed like a lot in the days before I started training for Bass Strait and paddled 54 kilometres in one day.

2021: We had a rest day! We were in the midst of training for Bass Strait and we had spent Christmas eve out in the bush doing trail work in the blistering heat.

2022: Another two day trip paddling north from our home bay to a different little cove on the Murramarang Coast.

2023: We were in the middle of training for south west Tasmania and were paddling a lot. As a change of pace we did a lovely low tide walk around the rock platforms from our home bay.

2024: Surfing on the Batemans Bay bar. This can be good when there is a big swell which gets all the way into the Bay. Yesterday was such a day. I was practising leaning and ruddering at the same time which for me is a bit like walking and chewing gum. We paddled back into a headwind, current and big standing waves going out the channel. Interesting conditions which made the day quite fun.

Planning Is Easy

We brewed more tea and poured it into one litre measuring cups. Barry Blanchard. The Calling: A Life Rocked by Mountains.

You might think you have experienced cold winter nights but, unless you’ve lived in Calgary, Alberta in the early 1990’s when the arctic cold fronts blow down from the Canadian north, the temperatures plummet to minus 40 Celsius and the scant snow underfoot becomes so dry and hard that it squeaks like Styrofoam under your snow boots, you have not really known cold. It was on such a night, that I first learnt the benefit of pausing and brewing up when circumstances seem dire. Doug Scott was on a world tour recounting, among other stories, his heroic crawl down The Ogre in Pakistan after falling and breaking both ankles. In Scott’s stories epic adventures were interspersed with mugs of freshly brewed tea. The ritual of tea making a necessary adjuvant to the otherwise haphazard risk management strategies employed by brash young climbers intent on making a mark in the high stakes world of high altitude alpinism.

I’ve been working my way through the lessons and courses available through Online Sea Kayaking (OSK) and thinking a lot about risk evaluation, planning and leadership of kayak groups. I’ve also thought a lot about what I now call “the Five Islands Incident.” Not ruminating, which is mostly unproductive; instead thinking about what is the best way to approach such paddling situations in the future.

What I’ve come to realise about the Five Islands incident is that there really was no “risk assessment” as most outdoor leaders would define “risk assessment.” There was a plan, but no risk assessment. A risk assessment has to identify potential hazards, the likelihood of encountering the potential hazard(s), and the consequences of such an occurrence. Once you start thinking about hazards it’s virtually automatic to then begin thinking in terms of risk mitigation strategies. No sensible person says “Well, I might die but what the fark; after all YOLO!’

PC: Nick B.

I’ve thought a lot about what risk mitigation strategies we could have implemented in the Five Islands incident. Certainly, a more thorough assessment of the paddle plan was indicated: how often was the feature completely closing out, how big were the swells, how long was the period, was there lateral movement of white water towards rocks or reefs, which way was the water flowing, if a paddler was overpowered by waves or capsized where would they end up and could we effect a rescue, was there a possibility of paddling through the feature one at a time while maintaining line of sight with the exposed paddlers? Is paddling through one at a time even the best option? Could we position one paddler on either side of the feature to act as a lookout/rescuer? Did each individual in the group have the necessary skill, fitness and ability to manage a bigger than average wave? Was the risk even worth the benefit?

PC: DB

These are all the things to sit and discuss with a paddling mate over a mug of freshly brewed tea, but that’s not practical on a day out sea kayaking – nothing would get done. It seems imperative however, that paddlers who talk about having “completed a risk assessment” have actually assessed risk not merely planned a route. Planning is easy the part. It is execution which is hard and the only thing that really matters.

The View From My Kayak

While I was driving home from Sydney, Doug was landing at Oaky Beach. Oaky is one of the few beaches between Moruya and Ulladulla where I have not landed. It’s not for want of thinking and even looking on the way north and south along the coast. Oaky Beach always looks like a dodgy landing as the beach is consistently steep, the swell picks up a fair way from shore and smashes onto the beach in a classic shore dump. Oaky Beach has the same aspect of Richmond Beach just one kilometre to the north but is always a much sketchier landing site.

On Sunday, Adrian and I paddled from Sunshine Bay over to Three Islet Point, where, despite some larger waves coming through, we paddled through one of the gauntlets. There are a couple of main slots at Three Islet Point and we don’t often get through any. One has a big rock in the middle and dog leg before exiting north, the other also has a shallow reef midway and exits straight east. We got through the second one.

PC: DB

We had the current with us heading north and so were soon at Oaky Beach where we ran into Fishkiller heading south. The main beach at Oaky had the typical large dumping wave but at the very south end, between some gravelly sand and a rock reef we were able to land easily with a bit of timing. It’s instructive to look at the map or satellite imagery because this small difference where the beach faces a bit more east then southeast makes landing possible.

Adrian and I left Fishkiller at North Head where he paddled west to Long Beach while Adrian and I lapped around the Tollgate Islands before heading back into Sunshine Bay. I felt a bit tired, but did three rolls because the water is warm enough now and that seems a good way to keep my head in the game.

PC: DB

A couple of days later, on a hot day, Doug and I went down to practice rolls and rescues. I ran through a variety of self and partner rescue techniques: rolling, re-enter and roll, paddle float roll, paddle float re-entry, cowboy reentry (never works as although I can get onto the kayak it is too unstable and always tips over), scoop rescue, stirrup rescue – I was pleased to find I can rig this with the equipment I normally carry so I do not need an extra piece of kit. There was quite a swell and wind rolling into Sunshine Bay which made the practice a bit more realistic.

PC: DB

Yesterday, we left Sunshine Bay in very calm almost glassy conditions. On the way out to the Tollgate Islands we passed some dolphins and a shark. About 1.5 kilometres west of the Tollgate Islands the southerly blew in with strong enough winds that I had to latch my hat on so it did not get lost. The wave buoy had Hs at 1.8 metres and Hmax at 2.7 metres with a period of around 10 seconds. That’s some big waves and the gap between the North and South Tollgate Islands was regularly closing out. Probably passable with good timing and strong paddlers but we had my nephew in tow so instead of taking our usual route through the passage we paddled around the eastern side which was likely rough enough. The rock reefs on the south side of the islands were breaking solidly and we gave them a wide berth.

PC: DB

From there we went back inshore to Snapper Island, I got my nephew into the gutter that leads to the big cave on the island, although definitely not in the approved reverse in style. Over to Corrigans Beach where you can often pick up some very small waves good for beginners but the tide was already too low and finally back to Sunshine Bay through the passage between the headland and the rock reef to the northeast. There was a cool southerly blowing and I did not feel like rolling but did my now obligatory three.

Paddling out of Windang

This is the map I should have had for paddling around Lake Illawarra because neither the nautical chart nor the topographic map reveal how shallow Lake Illawarra is. It is a big lake, almost 10 kilometres long from end to end, but the average depth is only 1.9 metres and at low tide, large areas of the lake are too shallow even for a kayak to float. That makes me 0 for 2 with maps on the women’s paddle trip out of Windang, but, in my defence, one map was simply lost in the bowels of my car.

Our plan had been to convene at Windang where the local council runs a very nice caravan park fronting Lake Illawarra on one side and Windang Beach on the other on Sunday evening preparatory to three days paddling. It’s the second women’s trip I had organised, the first was in February 2023 and we had some challenging conditions, northerly, southerly, rain, sun. The full gamut.

It’s always a challenge finding a suitable location. Ideally, we would cruise along the coast carrying our gear and making beach or bush camps giving a short few days trip the feeling of “expedition paddling.” As a side note, I dislike the term “expedition paddling.” It always seems a bit of an overstatement when you are off for 5 or 7 days along a familiar bit of coast with the ice-cream shop within easy strolling distance. Whatever you call it, coastal cruising or expedition paddling, there is always the stealth camping, where you feel a tiny bit criminal, and, it’s very hard on the south coast to find a good place to land and camp without encountering at least some surf. I don’t mind surf landings, they get easier and easier with practice, but I know that some people really don’t like them and, truthfully, they are the one hazard of sea kayaking that is hard to avoid. You can always detour around bommies and gauntlets; surf landings not so much. Additionally, when the trip is booked in advance, the weather can be a fickle creature. You might get stellar paddling weather or terrifying conditions to challenge an expert.

Windang was a good choice for a base for three days paddling. Far enough north to be out of the area where I frequently paddle but not too long a drive and, accessible to women from the north, the west and the south. My plan was to meet Monday morning for our first paddle, spend two nights at Windang, for three days paddling and two days accommodation. I sleep better at home! But, one of my friends rightly pointed out that an early start might be good on Monday morning as December weather commonly features the standard summer northeasterly winds which can be quite strong. This seemed a very good point and, if we all met on Sunday night, we could discuss the next day’s paddling in person thus making consensus decision making much easier. There is a time and place for autocracy – during rescues for example – but consensus decision making seems better most of the time. Not only is it not my business to tell you what to do, the converse is true, and risk is individual and should not be forced on anyone.

There was, however, a big accident on the highway heading north which resulted in an eight hour road closure so only four of us made it to Windang on Sunday evening (and the fourth was not paddling due to an injury). I had specifically taken my laptop computer along to enable the democratic process. Not only do I have all the marine charts and topographic maps for NSW on my laptop, but we would be able to look at the forecast together and avoid the inevitable “my forecast” debate. So, instead of sitting around a table deciding on the following days paddle, we had to make multiple telephone calls to talk with the people not in attendance.

Monday the forecast was for the standard summer northeasterly although I will say the wind arrived later and with less intensity than normal for a summer’s day. But, the land had cooled a lot over the previous few days and without hot land to draw the onshore breeze a lower than normal northeasterly is not unexpected. We decided to paddle one way from Windang to Kiama. The dreaded car shuttle. I avoid these as much as possible. I’d rather paddle than drive, but sometimes with some groups they make sense and this was one of those times.

It was a pleasant and uneventful paddle. Out Tom Thumb entrance at Windang – there must be a story behind that name – past Windang Island (not really an island) and south to Bushranger Bay. I had forgotten that Bushranger Bay is all rock with no sand to land. I had checked the imagery before this trip but it is so blurry that the grey rocks could be mistaken for grey sand. Bushranger Bay is sheltered, once you paddle in through the reasonably narrow mouth, but landing is difficult and would require lifting boats onto rocks while staggering across slippery seaweed covered reef. The sort of place where someone could easily take a tumble and smash either themselves or the kayak, or even both. We stood in the water instead.

What we should have done is paddle into Maloneys Bay on the south side of Bass Point. Although this bay looks exposed to the southeasterly swell, it actually provides an easy landing. The beach you land on faces east and a deep water channel into a sheltered bay means the landing is safe and easy.

That evening, the entire group was at Windang which meant we could all look at the forecast and the maps together. The forecast, which had been stable for a number of days (always makes the forecast a bit more trustworthy in my opinion) was for southerly winds increasing early in the morning to reach 20 knots by 9 or 10 am. Twenty knots is a pretty strong wind and, even though wind is measured on a ratio scale, the effect on the paddler is not linear. 20 knots with an experienced group on a downwind run can be great fun, but rescues become difficult and paddling in these conditions can feel like an “every man for themselves” scenario. It’s tempting, when you really want to do something to adopt the “Barney world view” where you distort reality to fit your purpose. This is how folks get caught in avalanches, and exactly how I have been caught myself. If you are honest, smart and reflective (it probably takes all three) you learn that you should hope for the best but plan for the worst. A 20 knot wind may not eventuate, but you should be prepared nonetheless.

Only one paddler was keen for an outing on the ocean in the forecast conditions, the rest of us were happy to paddle around the lake. I rarely paddle on enclosed water, which made a lake paddle on sunny day a treat for me. By the time we started paddling, it was actually quite windy, but we had a really nice paddle around three small islands in Lake Illawarra although the low tide and blustery wind stymied a longer paddle. I embarrassed myself by doing a rather poor rolling session after lunch – my worst ever as I missed quite a few rolls when I normally never miss any! Sometimes, the brain gets in the way of performance and all that thinking about things makes them worse. It was only when I came ashore at the end that I noticed that my two piece paddle was spinning around the joiner which had a detrimental effect on the climbing angle of my blade. However, I think my head was coming up as well.

Our final paddle day, we toured around the Five Islands off Wollongong launching from Fishermans Beach. This is a good spot to launch from as it is very sheltered with a gentle spilling wave, but the difficulty is finding a good parking spot without a desperate carry. At the north end, a long sloping ramp descends to the beach. Great for kayak trolleys but the only parking is on-street. The south end has a spacious car park but descent to the beach is via a narrow walkway and a long set of steps. We did the south end option, which meant K and I had to carry all four kayaks down to the beach while also lifting them completely over our heads to negotiate the narrow walkway lined by high hand rails. Good stability training but a bit tedious!

The additional benefit of launching south of Port Kembla Harbour is that you stay away from the main shipping area where big container ships come and go. K had her radio tuned to the appropriate station and was monitoring traffic, and, one large container ship did exit the harbour while we were paddling but the container ships head north not south so the islands can be explored without worrying about becoming a hood ornament on a container ship.

Viva La Revolution

The revolution will be complete when the language is perfect. George Orwell.

If you cannot keep up with what is acceptable language, know that you are not alone. The latest document out of Victoria (where else?) indicates that the most acceptable term for the race of people who were living in Australia before it was colonised by the British is Aboriginal. Are you surprised? I am, but shouldn’t be because the important thing to remember (which isn’t that “words have actions” – what does that even mean?) is that the purpose is the revolution. Aboriginal which had become a racial slur is now the preferred term. The circle is complete.

I have a knee jerk reaction to the language police because any time we begin to censor the use of descriptive words because of feelings we have abdicated our responsibility to think. Not just to think logically, but to think at all. Feelings are temporary and fleeting emotions. Feelings vary on the day, the person, the social situation. Feelings are not real or tangible. My feelings will differ from your feelings, and neither of those feelings has any empirical truth behind it. Most often the language police are deliberately trying to obfuscate reality because reality at this particular juncture does not suit the agenda. Control language and you control thought, or at least you think you do.

The key tell that people have fallen under the spell of the totalitarian regime (see Orwell’s prescient novel 1984) is when they begin to use “isms” to explain things. Ableism, racism, sexism, ageism, these are the most common isms, but the more we need to control thought the more isms will arise. The isms have spread out from the universities, where the Marxist concept of “intersectional oppression” is postulated to define all human interactions through government to society as a whole. Unfortunately, most regular folk who accuse friends and acquaintances of isms do not understand the full ramifications of acceptance and promulgation of intersectional theory for society as a whole. Isms exist to convince virtually everyone in the system that they are powerless victims of an oppressor, and to become a victim is the ultimate loss of personal autonomy. In a world where virtually everything is illegal, our only freedom is our personal autonomy.

If you need more proof of the absurdity of characterising people by isms, scan the Victorian Government page on intersectionality. There you will find 20 characteristics – only a partial list! - which reflect oppression. This list covers every single human who has ever existed! We are all both oppressor and oppressed, a concept which defies logic but supports the continuous revolution.

If you think I’m a bit tightly wound about something that does not really reflect everyday life consider this conversation which I would not have believed possible if it had not actually happened to me:

Interlocutor: “You cannot use the term “X” to describe this person.

Me: “In this group is this person “X”?

Interlocutor: “Yes but you cannot use that term.”

Me: “Is “X” an accurate description of our current reality?”

Interlocutor: “Yes, but you must describe reality in a different way using “Y.”

Me: “Is “Y” simply a euphemism for “X”?

Interlocutor: “Yes”

Me: “Then why don’t I just use “X”?”

Interlocutor: “Because using “X” is an Xism and only bad people use “X”. Worthy people use “Y”.”

 

If you feel confused by this shape-shifting conversation that is exactly the point. This kind of dialogue does not exist to bring clarity or even consensus to an issue. The point of the conversation is to show the respondent that the interlocutor occupies the unquestionable sanctity of the unimpeachable moral high ground.

For Want of a Map (or buckle up this is a long one)

I found my carefully laminated map of the Five Islands off Port Kembla under the seat of the car a full day after it was needed. Holding the map in my hands I wondered if this one sheet of paper could have prevented what followed or was that putting too much significance into a simple two dimensional representation of reality?

Teaching GPS navigation in the winter rain in Nelson, BC

Back in the days when I taught backcountry ski travel in avalanche terrain, I frequently exhorted my fellow travellers to “check the map.” The map allows you to recognise avalanche terrain before you enter it; a proposition far safer than continuing to ski blindly ahead until you are standing on a convex roll in the middle of a big avalanche slope under a hanging cornice with no safe exit point. With good map reading skills mysterious terrain becomes known, and known risks can be evaluated. That evaluation does not preclude knowingly entering risky terrain. The best backcountry skiing is in avalanche terrain, just as the best paddling is in wave washed locations, but risk should be evaluated as completely as possible before committing. Escape routes should be planned, and everyone in the group should enter the risky zone with the knowledge that they can cope with the worst possible consequences, not merely the best case scenario.

Pondering whether it is safe to ski out into the middle of a massive slide path,

Kootenay Pass, BC

The most difficult risk to assess is the classic “low probability high consequence” event. Most of the time snow is stable and no avalanches occur, just as most waves are smaller and manageable, but every so often, a pocket of deeply unstable snow is encountered – unstable enough to rip the entire slope - or a wave twice as high as average rolls across a rocky reef. In those instances, it is not always possible to avoid high consequence events. Risk, of course, is also a function of capacity, and capacity, sadly (no matter what the language police propose) is a function of age. Older people have slower reflexes, less power, and can be catastrophically injured by minor events.Which does not mean that older people don’t get to continue taking risks. I’m over 60, I lead climb, I ride a mountain bike at speeds where I have only modest control, I paddle on the ocean through surf and swells. These are all good things, a life with no risk is no life at all.

When assessing risk however, our first assessment needs to be of our own ability. Do we actually have the physical capacity to climb the route, ski the slope or paddle through a breaking wave? What will happen if I fall while lead climbing? Is the fall safe, on solid gear and into air, or am I 15 metres out from a dodgy piece above a big leg and back breaking ledge? If the slope rips, can I ski out to the side and escape the worst of the avalanche? More important, because most people do not ski out of big avalanches, if I am buried, can my friends quickly locate me and dig me out? If the wave breaks, can I reflexively respond as needed with a brace, or a power stroke? Can everyone in the group respond appropriately, and, if the worst happens, are we in a position to effect a rescue?

A friend triggered this avalanche and sustained

 a compound lower leg fracture

When I lived in Nelson, BC, the heart of “champagne powder skiing,” a couple of times a season, I would take a group of women backcountry ski touring. The women were less gung-ho than my usual male companions and wanted to ski good powder with low risk. The trips were great fun, and, in truth, a nice break for me from continually skiing big slopes with the big boys with big consequences. But, there was a difference in how I approached those trips. I never expected the women to be able to either find me or dig me out in the event of an avalanche. I skied as if I was alone. Which means that I was as absolutely sure as you can be that the slopes we skied were safe.

Ladies ski day

What does all this mean and what does it have to do with the Five Islands and a lost map? Simply, it means if you plan to paddle a route, you and you alone are responsible for your actions and you must be willing to wear the consequences alone. I am more than willing, within the limits of my ability to stand by and attempt to render assistance if something goes awry; but if you commit, you should commit with the full knowledge that you and you alone are responsible for the consequences.

Effecting a rescue in easy conditions 

after an unintentional capsize

Below are a couple of images showing Red Point (on the mainland) and the Five Islands. This is the view you would get if you had a map! Or could even remember the map which you had glanced at the night before. A bigger island (handily called Big Island) separated from the mainland by two ocean gaps – one between a small rocky islet (also very handily called Rocky Islet) and Big Island and one between Rocky Islet and Red Point. The imagery indicates that, in most conditions, the most easterly gap, between Rocky Islet and Big Island has the deepest water. In fact, even in bigger conditions (the second image) there is a safe passage between Big Island and Rocky Islet. Depending on skill, a safe passage may also be effected through the gap between Rocky Islet and Red Point, but a cursory glance indicates this is the riskier option.

Satellite imagery in average conditions, 

blue line is proposed route

The nautical chart – a snippet of which is shown below – is less clear. Both passages are shown as having a similar water depth and both passages have bomboras marked. The eastern most passage, is a little bit wider and might be preferable as a kayaker can point straight into the prevailing swell, but the final assessment will need to be made on the water; the chart can only provide so much information. Our route is marked in red (it’s my track from my Garmin watch). The blue track indicates the route that was proposed as we bobbed in our kayaks a couple of hundred metres to the northwest of Rocky Island.

Big conditions at the Five Islands

Why were we making this assessment from such a distance? I’m not completely sure! I was the last to launch and simply paddled out to meet up with the pod of paddlers at the intersection of the blue and red lines where they had been bobbing in the swell for some minutes. The reef between Rocky Islet and Red Point was breaking and, at times completely “closing out.” The passage, after all is less than 90 metres wide and has a bombora slap in the middle. Possibly the paddlers felt safer grouping up a fair distance from the reef rather than closer in where our viewpoint would have been better, but this may be splitting hairs.

Actual and proposed route,

as best as I can determine

Immediately upon my arrival at the “paddle pod,” one paddler proposed that we paddle the route of the blue line. We would, she told me, probably have to back paddle or hold our position while a few larger waves rolled over the reef to avoid being caught in breaking swells. Additionally, after crossing the line of breakers, we would have to turn and paddle beam on to the ocean swell for a distance before turning again and pointing into the ocean swell. However, I could be assured that where we would be beam on, the waves would be merely cresting not breaking and this particular paddlers risk assessment was that the proposed route was well within the parties capability and, additionally, this one paddler would take full responsibility for another member of the paddling party.

Another view of the Five Islands

Now, I will admit that this seemed like a fine line to thread to me. Not impossible by any means and completely safe for some paddlers, but, I would hope that any paddler choosing this option would be able to react quickly, reflexively and with sufficient power to manage any breaking waves. Did this final sentence describe every paddler in our party? Not by a long shot, and that is not ageism, sexism or any other ism that the PC (politically correct) police care to throw about, that is simply reality.

I admit to being caught off guard. I was being pressured to make a decision immediately upon meeting up with the paddle pod and I had not had a chance to look at the proposed route for any length of time, and, I did not have that accursed map, which would have shown at a glance that a mere 500 metres to the north was another larger passage! I thought briefly about getting my mobile phone out, as I have both the topographic map and the nautical chart on my phone, but it was a bit bumpy to be messing about with delicate electronics. Why was my ageing brain unable to pull out of its depths an image of the map which I had quickly checked the previous night on my computer and why did I feel so pressured to make such a quick decision in the first place?

My decision was made in some haste and one of the most important lessons for me from this event is that I should, if possible, take more time to make decisions. In this instance, we were in a safe location, it was early in the morning, the weather and sea conditions were stable, and I could with ease and safety take a few minutes to evaluate all our options and make a considered decision. Which is not to say my decision would have changed, but I would – perhaps – have been able to communicate the reasons for my decision with more diplomacy. That is a perhaps because I am a very poor communicator! I can’t guarantee these are my exact words, but, it’s close enough “if we paddle that route every paddler needs to be able to put some power on if needed and I am not sure that describes our entire group.”

Busting out of Little River, Nadgee Wilderness

My paddle is in a terrible position

PC: DB

It’s probably obvious to everyone (anyone?) reading this that one paddler was very keen and one paddler was willing to follow the keen paddler anywhere but might not be able to pull out the required power and agility should things go pear shaped. The keen paddler said they would take full responsibility for the least strong member of our group. I had and have no problem with adults deciding on their own level of risk and acting accordingly. However, I also saw this as a potential low probability high consequence event (although I am not convinced the probability was actually that low) which is an instance where decisions should be made with the worst case rather than best case scenario in mind.

To say things got heated would be to say that the sun can be warm in the middle of summer, an understatement. I said I was not willing to accept that level of risk for one member of the party, but I was completely happy for the two paddlers to go through as long as they were cognisant that, as they paddled through the gap, they were responsible for themselves. I assured them that I would do my very best to effect a rescue should that be required but I could make no guarantees that a rescue would be possible or completely timely.

Rescue at the Tollgate Islands

Things got heated. I felt a great deal of pressure to accede to the keen paddlers plan. I did at one point say “I will not be bullied.” A statement that is likely too strong for the circumstances. But, there is history here and history is hard to forget even if one has long since forgiven. It seemed to me, and I could be completely wrong about this, that the keen paddler was willing to take responsibility for the other paddler as long as I was also involved but not really willing to take responsibility if only two paddlers were to proceed. The antithesis of “skin in the game,” and, to throw in another incredibly overused metaphor, the rubber meets the road when skin is in the game.

The one sensible paddler in all of this had, while discussions were ongoing, simply paddled north, noted the wide open channel between Rocky Islet and Big Island and as we regrouped preparatory to paddling around the island from the north shared with us the information that she had been watching the eastern most passage for a period of time and no waves had broken through there. It was a completely risk free route, just some bumpy water and current, and we paddled through with ease! How foolish were we to debate a course of action when we had not even made the most cursory examination of all our available options.

What can be learnt from this long, long story with too few photos and possibly no point at all:

• Everyone should have a map. Had anyone else in the party had a map none of this would have happened. With only one map in the party when that map got lost, we had zero maps!

• Assess all options before making a decision. If that means paddling 300 or 500 metres, paddle 300 or 500 metres.

• I understand completely the desire to do something, heck, I am one of the most goal oriented people around, but if you are damned and determined to do something, you might have to go alone.

• If you are unwilling to go alone or with only one other person, you don’t have skin in the game. Take responsibility for that.

• This lesson is particularly for me: take your time, make a considered decision and do your best to communicate that decision rationally and carefully.

• Agree on the rules of engagement ahead of time. Most outdoor parties have an unspoken rule that any single member has veto if risk is deemed significant. It is likely better to make this clear ahead of time, particularly if you suspect that some members of your party do not operate under the same assumption.

I understand chafing against risk assessments. I have done so my entire life, particularly when I was backcountry skiing with the women. I never took those women anywhere near an avalanche slope and yet, sometimes one woman or another would decide that the slope we were planning to ski was unsafe. I might explain the risk again – perhaps in a different way with different words - but it is absolutely not my job to push anyone to do something they perceive as risky to life and limb. We all make mistakes and, if your mistake breaks someone you live with those consequences forever. Most of the things we do in life are simply not worth that.