Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Paddling Gear Thoughts

As I noted in the previous post, this summer was a great learning experience for me, and my three months of paddling taught me a lot, including about gear.  A distillation of my thoughts here:

The Kayak

Way back in April I posted a bit about my paddling gear (here) along with a description of my trip plans.  I talked about my kit-built Chesapeake Light Craft kayak, model "North Bay," which is no longer manufactured, and my homemade paddles, which included a full-sized Greenland paddle and a storm paddle.

Before this summer, I would have described the long, narrow (18' 6" x 20") North Bay as a low-volume, cruising boat, and I expressed some concern that the boat might not be well suited to my long paddle.  However, with this summer's experience behind me, I would revise that assessment.  Overall, I was very happy with the kayak, which is quite fast when the wind is down, and which handled challenging conditions--chop and swell--on the outer coast well.  It also carried more than enough gear and food for the longest stretches of my trip.  My one gripe is that the boat's length, coupled with relatively little rocker, does mean that it tends to get bogged down in short, steep chop in tailwinds on the inside passage's narrow channels.  I often wondered if a more heavily rocketed hull would serve me better under these conditions, which were really the only time I wasn't in front, when paddling with partners, but the hull's shape no doubt has other advantages, including better tracking and better performance when the waves are smaller or larger.

Paddling a wooden boat was great.  Always nice to have a light load to carry up and down the beach in the evening, and it's fun to get questions from passers-by.  "Did you make that?"  However, the keel line of the boat really took a beating on some stretches of BC's rocky coast, and I needed to carry out field repairs, to toughen the bottom of the boat, more than once.  In the future, I plan to install double or maybe triple layers of fiberglass tape soaked in epoxy thickened with graphite along the keel, which would solve most of these problems without too much of a weight penalty.

I had some negative experiences with CLC's low-tech skeg system early on in the trip.  The skeg, made out of a rigid plastic, would bend out of shape over the course of a day in such a way that it would pop out of the skeg box, and I would find myself mysteriously weathercocking when I thought the skeg was down.  I eventually figured out how to make the system work (and found it to be more foolproof than most skeg systems I've used).  In the future, though, I would shy away from this system, which makes re-entry from the stern of the kayak--like cowboy scramble re-entry--more difficult by placing a large obstruction in the way of a cowboy re-entry or other, similar technique (the top of the skeg projects out of the deck).  The next kayak I build will use a different system.

The good news is that cowboy scrambles would be very unlikely, since I found rolling the fully loaded kayak to be exceptionally easy.  I was initially a little concerned about capsizes and rolling with a loaded boat, due mostly to cautionary statements from more experienced paddlers: "Sure you can roll, but have you ever tried to roll a loaded kayak?  It's hard!"  I found the opposite to be true.  Indeed, rolling the loaded boat was a breeze, and a nice easy way to cool off on hot days.

Paddles

I carried three (!) paddles with me on the trip.  The first was a Werner Shuna (carbon), which is a high-angle touring blade that I've been using for years.  The second was a full-sized Greenland paddle that I made myself, and the third was a Greenland "storm paddle," a short paddle for high winds that some modern Greenland-style paddlers use as a spare.

At the beginning of the trip, I treated the Greenland paddle as a bit of a novelty, and spent most of my time paddling with the Werner.  Through much of the BC section, though, I paddled exclusively with the full-sized Greenland paddle, and really fell in love with it.  It's possible that it's a bit slower than the Werner (hard to say for sure), and is definitely a bit heaver (cedar, not carbon, after all).  However, over time, I found myself feeling more secure with the Greenland blade in chop and swell, because I found it easier to roll with, and also because the shape of the loom and blades makes it much easier to intuitively understand the position of the blade relative to the water, leading to a much lower probability of a missed stroke.  Towards the end of the trip, I would tend to use the Werner when conditions were calm and switch to the Greenland blade when conditions were rough, or when I was doing long crossings.  Unfortunately, due to an error I made in the construction process, I broke the Greenland paddle shortly after I crossed into Alaska (actually, the day I arrived in Ketchikan).  I missed it for the remainder of the trip and have just finished building a replacement, which I plan to use this summer.

Interestingly, by the end of the trip, I found that my paddling style had changed a bit, from a relatively high-angle stroke to a lower-angle stroke better suited to the Greenland blade.

Although I still use it as a spare, I never really felt comfortable with the storm paddle in rough conditions; because of the way the paddle is used (exclusively with a sliding stroke), I would sometimes find myself wanting to brace on the right side (for example) while holding the right blade in my hand, requiring me to switch hands to brace on that side.  A few times, I was caught off guard by reflecting and/or refracting waves and was unable to brace as quickly as I would have liked.  I never capsized, but I found myself shying away from the storm paddle in sketchy conditions, generally preferring the full-sized Greenland paddle.  Odd, since the storm paddle is supposedly intended for windy conditions.  I will continue to use the storm paddle on short paddles (maybe half-heartedly) but may leave it behind on my next big trip.

Wetsuits and Drysuits

Until this summer, I was exclusively a devotee of wetsuits for paddling.  I own several, including a heavy, 6mm wetsuit for winter paddling in Juneau, a farmer john, and a neoprene two-piece dealy that I used for a good stretch this summer.  The reason I preferred wetsuits is, first, that I've found drysuit latex gaskets to be very uncomfortable on my skin (especially my neck) and almost unbearably painful after several days, and second, that I've found drysuits to be much less reliable, because gaskets and fabric tend to fail and often are not completely waterproof, making them less effective (sometimes completely ineffective).  By contrast, a wetsuit would require a really significant failure to make it ineffective, and I've generally found that wetsuits keep me warm under even the coldest conditions here in Alaska.

This summer, unfortunately, I had some very negative experiences with my wetsuit arrangement.  After a week or two of paddling, I found that my wetsuit top was wearing holes on my skin around the back of my shoulders and upper arms, and in the crook of my right arm (just the right arm, for some reason).  It probably goes without saying that having large, open sores in the salt water environment was pretty uncomfortable.  In Prince Rupert, I transitioned to a drysuit (actually, dry bibs and a dry top).  I found that system much more comfortable, and I was able to keep my issues with the dry top neck gasket at bay by using K-Y Jelly on the inside of the neck gasket.  The two piece arrangement was very convenient in camp, where I used the dry bibs as rain pants and often wore them from dawn to dusk.  The bib/drytop setup also kept me completely dry while rolling.  However, it does allow some water in at the waist while swimming, making it somewhat less safe than a full-body drysuit.  I intend to buy such a drysuit before my next trip on the outer coast, but I'm quite comfortable with the two piece system in less exposed places.

Other Paddling Gear

I had trouble with paddling gloves all summer.  I very quickly destroyed a pair of NRS paddling gloves (though a heavy-weight pair of paddling mittens I own has been going strong for years), and had trouble finding replacements, destroying at least two more pairs of gloves over the course of the summer.  For some reason, every conceivable retail operation sells neoprene gloves in Alaska, but not in coastal BC or Washington State.  In the end, my favorite paddling gloves for most conditions were inexpensive neoprene gloves I bought at the local auto parts store in Juneau.

I've been using a pair of NRS paddling booties for several years.  They work great.  I found that they got much less stinky when I transitioned to the dry bibs and wasn't wearing them with bare feet all day every day.  Weirdly, kind of missed the constant neoprene smell on my skin, though.

On my head in cold weather, I wore a neoprene paddling cap with earflaps and a short brim, also from NRS.  It was an absolute impulse purchase, but was wonderful--great in the rain and wind.  I also carried a neoprene hood to match to my wetsuit, but sent it home after the first few weeks, because I never wore it and found that the water was warm enough by mid-June that it wasn't necessary for rolling practice.  My sun hat was an old crushable cowboy/gardening hat with a wide brim.

I picked my PFD (life jacket, not Permanent Fund Dividend) because it was comfortable and had pockets for safety gear, including a radio pocket.  It's from Kokatat.  I started the trip with a Cobra handheld VHF that I held in that pocket, but it got damaged North of Victoria, and I replaced it with a Standard Horizon model in Port Hardy (the guy at the marine electronics store said, "I sell this one to loggers.")  In my PFD pockets, I also carried a few flares, a personal locator beacon, a whistle, dive knife, and swim goggles and earplugs for practicing my rolling.  Towards the end of the trip, I realized I wasn't taking many pictures, so I started carrying my camera in my PFD pocket instead of my swim goggles.

Other standard paddling gear included a bilge pump, sponge, and inflatable paddle float.  I carried snacks, my coffee thermos, water, and sunglasses in a waterproof deck bag from MEC.  That thing was a revelation--the only really waterproof deck bag I've ever used, closed with a screw-in Beckson hatch.  I also installed a compass on deck before the trip and found it to be quite useful for navigating labyrinthine channels in the San Juans and some parts of Southeast Alaska.

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Reflections on Kayaking Food

This summer was a new experience for me, and I learned a lot.  However, one area where things generally worked out pretty well for me was in menu planning and cooking.  A few thoughts on food here:

1.  The food dehydrator was a life-saver.  My menu was really enriched by cooking hearty one pot meals and sauces at home, then drying in my home dehydrator.  I found recipes that I liked for chili, spaghetti sauce, beef stroganoff, turkey tagine, chicken jambalaya, and other meals, cooked big batches at home, ate half for dinners and lunches and dried half in the food dryer.  Where recipes called for beef, I would generally use ground turkey or ground chicken (easier to rehydrate).  Turkey pepperoni was another common substitution.  I also spent a lot of time drying fruits and vegetables which I mixed in with my breakfasts and dinners and sometimes ate as snacks.  Frozen corn, broccoli, peas, peppers, and mixed veggies dry up very well and rehydrate easily.

2.  A soup thermos was also very useful.  I carried two vacuum bottles all summer.  The first was a coffee thermos that I would fill up every morning and drink throughout the day--very nice on cold, rainy Southeast Alaska afternoons.  The second was a wide-mouth soup thermos.  I started off with a 16 oz. wide-mouth, then switched to a somewhat larger (18 oz.) container half way through.  Typically, I would use the vacuum bottle to rehydrate my dehydrated dinner, placing the ziplock bag of dehydrated food (chili, stroganoff, whatever) in the container in the morning, and filling the bag part way with boiling water as I cooked my breakfast.  I would then seal the bag, close the bottle, and stow for the day.  In some cases, I would also partially fill the thermos with cous cous or rice as a base for the meal, add the stroganoff (or whatever) and water, and seal.  By dinnertime, the food would be completely rehydrated, and often still warm.  Sometimes I would reheat dinner on my stove, but I would often eat it straight from the thermos or the bag without reheating, even when it was lukewarm (I was usually hungry!)  This approach saved a lot of cooking time and no doubt a fair bit of stove fuel.

3.  My MSR Dragonfly was a great companion.  I spent a lot of time before the trip agonizing about what stove to bring.  I've been spending time in the outdoors for a long time and have accumulated a lot of gear over the years--I considered using an old MSR Simmerlite for the trip, a Jetboil I inherited, an alcohol-burning Trangia, a wood-burning Emberlit and even a stove I made myself out of old pop cans.  All of these alternatives had advantages and disadvantages.  I picked the Dragonfly mostly because it was the newest of my stoves and I thought it was the least likely to let me down halfway.  I found that the Dragonfly's ability to easily simmer at low temperatures was a great advantage on a trip of this length--I believe it saved me a great deal of fuel which ultimately lightened my load,  (especially towards the end of the trip, once I had a good handle on how much fuel I was using).  This despite the fact that the Dragonfly is among the heaviest of my stoves.  For whatever reason, I continue to spend a lot of time weighing the advantages and disadvantages of different types of stoves for paddling, and still want to try out one of those home made soda can stoves on a longish trip, but experiments aside, I had a very good experience with the Dragonfly and will use it again.

4.  Breakfast burritos are great.  Medium sized tortillas are just about the right size to sit efficiently in the bottom of a bear keg, and a single-serving package of ova easy powdered eggs (the best kind, despite the terrible/wonderful pun of a name) makes a great dinner.  I would add instant hash browns, dried vegetables of all kinds, mushrooms, whatever to about a cup of water, bring to a boil, then add eggs and a package of bacon bits, turn off the stove and stir.  Put chunks of cheese in the mix to melt for a minute before eating your burrito with a little salt and hot sauce (in my case, both probably stolen from Taco Bell).  Carl and I often wondered if we could skip the salt and just cook with ocean water, but never tried it.  Maybe next time.  I also have inherited several boxes of freeze dried refried beans that will be part of my repertoire the next time I take a long paddle.

5.  The bear can fits in the cockpit.  Or, at least, my bear can fits in my cockpit, just afore my foot pegs (and my foot pegs held it in place in case of a wet exit).  I would double-bag the food in the bear can with trash bags, which seemed to keep everything dry, even on the couple of occasions I got a lot of water in the kayak (fortunately always from having waves break into the cockpit on a launch or landing--I never unintentionally capsized).  This freed up a lot of space that I could use elsewhere in the boat.  I also carried an ursack that fit right astern of the cockpit, in the stern compartment.  Putting too much weight in the bear can up there towards the bow tended to contribute to weathercocking in a tailwind, so I would consider using two ursacks in the stern and figuring out another way to use the cockpit space.  I did have to bear bag food a few times, and I paddled with partners who bear-bagged the whole time, but hanging your food is such a pain and takes so much time--bear cans and ursacks are much easier and work fine.

Other meals that I really enjoyed included dehydrated mashed potatoes (actually served with chili), fettuccine carbonara, and mac and cheese.  These last two I would also use packaged "real" bacon bits, and I added peppers to the mac and cheese where I could (should have dried a bunch of jalapeƱos before the trip but didn't think of it).  Also used powdered whole milk ("Nido").

On the other hand, I planned to eat a fair bit of curry (with Japanese-style curry blocks) served with noodles or rice, cashews and dried veggies, but got tired of that pretty quickly.  Also brought a little spice jar of fish rub which I never used.  Didn't spend enough time fishing, though on a trip with a more relaxed itinerary, that might come in handy.

Of course, everybody's tastes are a little different, and the things that I really enjoyed eating might not be very good for other people.  The trick for me has been to gradually build up a repertoire of eight or ten meals that I really like and can cook easily in the backcountry.  That's plenty of variety, even for a long trip.  I've stolen a lot of ideas from paddling partners!

With regard to gear for cooking, most of my setup was pretty traditional.  I used a small (1.5 qt.) pot that fit my stove, though I generally prefer a somewhat smaller coffee-pot, which I find useful for pouring and draining pasta.  My coffee pots don't fit my stove well, though (where I generally store the stove) or don't fit in small dry bags, and I've had bad luck getting salt water and sand in the stove fuel line if I don't dry bag it up.  I also brought a folding backpackers grille, but mailed it home fairly quickly, and carried a folding saw all summer but almost never used it.  I have been on kayak trips in the past when I regretted not  carrying a saw, and In retrospect, I might still carry one, but would probably carry a small handheld folding model, rather than the homemade bucksaw I used.  Maybe even just a folding knife with a saw blade.  Though I contend that my bucksaw (made it myself!) was much cooler.  Only made fires a few times, and generally on dry evenings when there was plenty of appropriately-sized driftwood about.