(OR ROLLING WITH ROLLY)
by Rick Wise
Early spring is a time to beware. Warm weather, cold water and overconfidence can make for a dangerous combination. I learned that lesson the hard way and it was a humbling experience. A guy who makes his living taking care of, and training others in the out-of-doors is not supposed to make mistakes. The fact is that we are all prone to errors in judgment, and experience and training doesn’t make you immune to accidents, it only makes it hurt more when it happens. The real test is in what you take home with you when it’s over.
Our group, Josh, John, Rolly and myself planned on exploring the beautiful Whalesback area of the North Channel of Lake Huron – an area I knew well. We were already on location after a 4-day wilderness first aid course but though we were all experienced paddlers, Josh and Rolly had limited time in sea kayaks. I planned on getting them all hooked. In such a great location who could not get hooked? Our plan was one overnight, explore and go over general out-trip procedures. Because of the group’s individual experience and the time already on the water I ignored the little voice in my head reminding me that rescue procedures had not been covered as a group. I told myself that the water was too cold for practice anyway and that it was not part of my agenda at this time. Besides, these people were all accomplished paddlers.
Clear weather was forecast with westerly winds building over the next 24 hours to small craft warning conditions of 20 to 30 knots. We noted this and decided to change our travel plans to go west on day one and have the winds at our backs returning on day two. Rough conditions make for good training and experience and there was enough sheltered water around to be safe.
After a beautiful night we woke to clear skies and light winds, but by the time we broke camp the winds had increased to about 15 knots. We were in the protected waters of the surrounding islands and the wind, though strong, did not have much fetch to build waves. We talked about our objectives. I hoped to expose the group to rough conditions and give them some valuable experience. After a few hours of paddling, I felt the group was ready to cross the channel. We chose a route on the north side of our islands, on an angle exposing our boats to following seas but in relative protection. The in-line distance to the far shore was 2 km but we would need to paddle about five on the angle we had chosen. We would sneak behind Beardrop Island on the other side and get into sheltered water again. We reviewed our formation and pledged to stay together. Away we went, I leading, and the others close behind.
Following seas are great fun but require more effort to keep the boat on track since the waves are continually overtaking the boat, picking up the back end and carrying it around. Rudders can help but the boat performance remains sloppy and the rudders sometime breach the water so it can be intimidating. The only way to overcome this is to paddle like hell to catch up to the speed of the waves and start surfing them. You can build up good speed doing this and cover distance but it takes continual effort and some skill to ride the waves and keep the boat up to speed.
Josh was eager to surf, and pushed by me all smiles on several good waves. I kept an eye behind me watching Rolly, who seemed very cautious and uncertain in these building conditions. “Stay close to Rolly,” I shouted to John over the roar of the wind and waves. I tried a few surfs also but hung back generally to watch Rolly and John. We were well over halfway and going back would have been difficult. As we came nearer to the far shore our exposure to the fetch increased and not quite a kilometre offshore we were completely exposed to the wind and waves from the west. Seas were approaching 2 metres with a rough chop on top and some waves were starting to break at their peaks. This was the crux of the crossing. In a hundred metres we would be behind Turtle Rock, a bald piece of real estate about the size of a house. Waves were pounding its smooth rock surface, offering no landing, but it would break up the wave pattern behind it and not far beyond that lay Beardrop Harbour, our destination.
It was then I heard a shrill whistle from behind me. I turned to see the bottom of Rolly’s boat disappear behind a wave. John was frantically beckoning to us to assist. “Boat over.” I yelled to Josh as we turned around in the breaking waves to head directly back into the maelstrom. Now we were in it. The very scenario I had dismissed in my mind earlier was upon us – a rough water rescue in cold water conditions with no previous group practice. Great!
Turtle Rock was dangerously close and I did not want to be washed up on it in mid-rescue. I instructed Josh to pick up Rolly on the bow of his boat. He could hang there safely and his weight, below the waterline, would act as ballast to stabilize Josh’s kayak. Together, we created a raft that was now being blown broadside to the wind. In these conditions, the larger the raft the more difficult it becomes to manage as the waves start to play “snap the whip” with the last boat and bang the boats together. Three boats together are safe, but any more than that becomes a hazard.
We unclipped the sea sponsons that Rolly had begun to deploy, to get them out of the way and prepared for a kayak over kayak rescue. All the time Rolly was clinging to Josh’s kayak and getting pummelled by cold waves. His wet suit was, ironically, stowed in behind his seat, doing him absolutely no good. (The air temperature was hot, and so he had elected to leave it off.) Because of our configuration and the high winds, it became impossible for us to right Rolly’s kayak without breaking our raft.
Paddles and some gear had gone into the water and now our little raft was like a sail, quickly propelling us away from the flotsam. I told Josh to break from the formation and with Rolly on the front of his boat, hover into the waves and collect the gear. (A mistake – don’t separate the rescuee from his boat.) By the time we had righted his kayak and put it back in the water we were at least 30 metres away from Josh’s boat. Now we had lost sight of them altogether between the wave troughs. I fought down a bolt of panic and stared out across the crashing waves. Just as suddenly they reappeared and John headed toward them as a guide for me and to assist Josh.
It was up to me now to tow Rolly’s boat back to the group. Ordinarily this is a simple procedure but now, as if to underscore our vulnerability, fate poked another bony finger into my chest. My rescue rope was the type worn around the waist but I had been having problems with it remaining secure and had found it uncomfortable and awkward. My solution had been to store it behind my seat where it was now, in these conditions, with my only carabiners, out of my reach. Rolly’s boat had a tow-line already pre-attached, (that is a must for every boat, and boy was I glad of that now) but how to attach it to me? I dared not turn around behind me in these conditions and attaching it in front would present a hazard and probably snag my paddle. John was now with Josh and unable to hear or help me. The only attachment point I could find was high on my life jacket where a strap was chain looped and stitched to the vest. I clumsily attached it and began the paddle back. Every tug on the line from the towed boat threatened to pull me over and into the icy water. I had to continually brace against it with each tug, slowing my progress even more. If I went over, rolling back up with the line attached would be very difficult at best and chances were I wouldn’t succeed. Then two of us would be in the water and our chances of a successful rescue would be almost… well, let’s say I didn’t want to go there. I plodded back against the wind and waves to where the group was hovering. Those few minutes seemed agonizingly slow and as I paddle I prayed “Lord, please don’t let me go over, please don’t let me go over.” Stroke by stroke by brace I approached the group and now we were finally back together.
By now Rolly had been in the water about five minutes and every wave that went by washed cold water over his body and continued to chill him. The mid-channel temperature on that day could not have been more than about 10 degrees Celsius and the wind and waves made it all the worse. Time seemed to have almost stopped for Rolly and he was getting dangerously cold. Would he have enough strength and feeling in his hands to pull himself back in his boat? We rafted up again and slowly, with our help, as the waves heaved and rolled underneath us, Rolly dragged himself up over his deck and into his cockpit. He was shaking violently but he was all right. We held together and helped Rolly get his skirt back on his boat. We were still very vulnerable. Would Rolly even be able to paddle?
Still in raft formation it was now safe to get my tow-rope out from behind my seat and we secured it to Rolly’s boat. Then, with Josh and John close to Rolly we began the last trek toward the shore. I wanted to make Beardrop Harbour, but Rolly, still fearful of the conditions that had already dumped him wanted to head on a more stable angle slightly up wind. This is the point where the sea sponsons would have been really handy, stabilizing Rolly’s boat for him as we paddled back shoreward.
As it was, we made it successfully to shore and began the task of further re-warming Rolly. The wind was still howling but we found shelter in the trees and, in a sunny spot, we wrapped him in a tarp and stripped off his wet clothes, replacing them with dry ones. We spent at least an hour there feeding him soup and snacks until he felt fine again. The hypothermia had fortunately been mild enough.
With the danger behind us a huge wave of relief washed over me and we began to congratulate ourselves for a successful rescue. In many ways, once the situation had occurred, we performed well for an unpractised group and I was thankful of that. We had made a few mistakes, but no one had panicked. The whole rescue had lasted an estimated 5-7 minutes from the time he went over until the time we got Rolly back into his boat again. Rolly was certain that he was in the water for 15 to 20 minutes. If that had been the case I am sure his hypothermia would have been much more severe.
The wind continued but our route out was protected and safe. Even so, Rolly (now a very suitable name for him) was very anxious about getting back in and paddling back to the cars, still 5-6 km away. And who could blame him? We took our time and returned to the dock in a few hours. We drove Rolly home even though he said he could manage on his own. I knew though that his body would soon give in to exhaustion and he fell sound asleep on the 20 minute drive home. He slept soundly for most of the two days after that. His muscles were stiff and sore for a week afterwards because of the demand he had put on them when he was chilled and he discovered bruises on his body that he could not explain.
I need to emphasize that this was planned as a guide training exercise. The people had a great deal of outdoor experience and training in many other areas and I had been in similar conditions many times before. Despite this or maybe because of it, we had been overconfident of ourselves, underestimated the conditions and had paid for it. We spent many hours evaluating it and shortly after the adventure we practised all sorts of rescue scenarios.
The biggest lesson for me was not to assume anything about the people you are with, despite their related areas of expertise. White water is not the same as moving wind driven waves. I now review, practise and make sure that procedures are in place to cover the basic and advanced safety of the group each time I go out. I know that there are many people kayaking today who have never taken a course or practised any kind of rescue. To them I say, take a course and practice in many differing conditions. Don’t take anything for granted and beware of the fatal syndrome “This won’t happen to me!” Rescue is a skill, like anything else, and needs to be continually kept up. Don’t go out in any conditions that you are not competent to rescue yourself, or others in. Make sure you are well prepared for changing conditions.
We didn’t exactly hook Rolly on sea kayaking that day, but he did get back on the horse, so to speak, and has become a much better kayaker because of his experience. He now wears his wetsuit in cold water conditions despite the air temperature, and I always keep my rescue equipment where I can get at it easily. And I keep my humility there too.