Saturday Nov.15, 2003

[Guest guest]

Saturday, Show n Go Marblehead, Riverhead Beach. 9:30 AM shove off. Look for winter games and paddling interests. Dry suits, hot liquids, warm extra clothing. The usual winter stuff. Forecast is sunny and 45 so let’s play. I need to be off the water by 3:00 PM. The Duct tape is off the boat and glass repaired so I am ready for the next damage. Let the games begin. Let’s call this level 3 for, I don’t really know, just because.

Jim B

Thought for the day: Never be afraid to try something

new. Remember that amateurs built the Ark. Professionals built the

Titanic

P & H Orion

Yellow over White

jim@nspn.org

[Guest guest]

Added notes and notes from Paddler Number 2

A few years ago Liz Neumeier wrote “Only the Wind Showed”. Well, Saturday the wind showed and so did three NSPNers. We looked at the forecast several times during the previous day and in the wee hours of the morning Saturday. The forecast from Beverly airport was west winds 11 to 16 switching to NNW in the afternoon, 14-18 knots. As Marblehead is very protected from a west wind and also a NNW wind, we decided to head out the west shore, round the Fort, then beat into the wind to Beverly, figuring an easy ride back in the afternoon.

As we rounded the point, and into the full force of 25 knot gusts, our progress was slow, but great forward stroke practice. Our pace was slower than normal. One in our group was using a drysuit for the first time and was discovering that fleece and drysuit severely restrict the torso rotation. Also the internal temperature was greater than expected. The air temperature was 28 degrees F. After clearing Peaches Point we decided to turn tail and run to Tinkers Island. The wind had shifted to north and we reasoned a lunch at Tinkers then an easy paddle around Marblehead Neck and a landing at Devereux Beach. We arrived at Tinkers with a great sleigh ride from the now gusting breeze. The landing at Tinkers was more difficult than I expected--several gusts of wind knocked me over as I attempted to assist the other two boats landing. The slippery rocks and the increasing gusts just knocked me over every time I tried to move.

It was an easy decision to head back to a sandy beach on the seaward side of the neck. Sadly we discovered several, possibly as many as 5, dead seals on the beach. They had been there for a while and we moved a long way downwind. The rest and lunch were great--sunny sky, out of the wind and the conversation flowed about kayaking, the NSPN Christmas party and what to use for warm hands. A swap of Nordic Blue for neoprene and we were off to finish a pleasant day. The wind by now had shifted back to due west and we chose to backtrack, round the neck and head for the harbor. We understood we would be in the teeth of the wind but reasoned only for a short time. Also the landing on the seaward and west facing Devereux Beach would be more difficult.

As we rounded the point, the wind funneled in between the mainland and Marblehead Rock. Progress was slowed and I offered a short tow to our new-to-winter paddler. As I dropped back, I did not inform the other paddler that I was dropping back to assist. He kept his forward motion. As by now the wind had churned up a three foot short chop, I had to make several passes to reach a position to hook on the tow. Just as I was about to hook up, my attention being on the job at hand, the always alarming words “Boat Over!” were hollered. The lead boat, some 100 yards upwind, by now was in the water. I watched as the paddler set up for a roll. The boat started up, then a wave pushed both out of sight. As the wave lifted me up, I could see he was in the water. As if in slow motion, I saw he had lost his paddle. He let go of his boat and reached for the paddle. Just like that both were gone from his reach. Worse yet, his boat was heading for the rocks of Chandler Hovey. Yikes!

I took off as fast as I could, hooked my tow rope to the boat and headed to do a T rescue. To my shock, the tow refused to come out of my pouch. The boat was scratching the back of my neck and it was not a pleasant scratch. I yanked on the rope and almost lost my paddle myself. The wind had enough force to knock you over. By now I was inches from the rocks and not enough room to give a full stroke. When I did, the boat was using my back as a bull’s eye. I finally reasoned I could only hold my position or dump the boat. As I didn't feel threatened, I drifted away and, with the wind, to the cove at the lighthouse. The paddler in the water was swimming toward me and the cove, the wind and waves pushing him to me. I landed his boat, unhooked my tow rope, stowed the short piece in my vest and waited for him to land. I assumed after five minutes in the water he was cold and tired.

As he exited the water, I told him I was going out to find paddler three as we were all out of sight of each other. “You stay here. I will go to the put-in and get my truck and be back for you.” He nodded in agreement. It was out of the wind, he said he was not cold and was fine. I took off and shortly looked for his missing paddle in the rocks. As I rounded the bend, about halfway in the harbor mouth was paddler number three resting on a mooring ball. I paddled over and related that we needed to head straight to the cars and retrieve our mate.

We paddled to the take-out without a rest or conversation. As we landed, we lined up one car to put both boats on and were about to head to my truck when we looked back to see paddler number two coming our way.

He had not listened to me or, in his mind, heard what he wanted to hear. He walked up the cliff and looked out to see us at the mooring ball, decided we were waiting for him. He went down the rocks, grabbed his spare paddle and headed out after us, (amazed) surprised that we were not there and were heading away from him. He paddled quickly to try to gain ground but couldn’t catch up. (We of course never looked back. While at the mooring ball I called him on the VHF, but he had not turned his (radio) on and never gave it a thought until he was back on the water and was reluctant to let go of the paddle to reach for his radio

So the lessons for me:

1. I should have let the lead paddler know I was dropping back to assist number three.

2. I need to get my head around the rats nest in my tow rope bag. That is a piece of emergency gear that needs to be deployable.

3. In an emergency, we need to work on a three-way communication system. In our situation, this would have been me saying “I am going for my truck, you stay here.” Paddler two would respond to me “You said I should stay here, you are going for your truck.” I’d respond “That is correct, I will be back for you.” In my haste to see how paddler three was doing, I simply said “You stay here, I will be back to get you in my truck.” He heard “I will be back for you.”

4. You never have enough rough water practice in conditions.

5. The radio is an important safety device and should always be turned on. I seldom keep it on during leisurely paddles. That will change.

6. Your thoughts?

Comments from the swimmer:

I was paddling comfortably and while I realized that I was in front I did not realize that my partners were getting farther behind. I was reluctant to turn far enough off the wind to get a good luck until I thought I was in a relatively good position. I had paddled in far worse circumstances and had never gone over!

Suddenly, I was upside down. My first thought was that I don't believe it! I set up for a role and blew it. I thought about setting up again but was getting pounded and decided to bail. When I came up I realized that I had lost both paddle and boat, neither very far away, but totally out of reach. I saw paddler number one going for my boat, and heard and saw paddler number three asking if I was OK. I signaled Number three that I was fine, waved him off and started swimming to catch up with number one and the boat. I was totally unaware of the difficulties that he was having. But I did follow him into the cove where he had beached my boat. As we passed I told him that I was fine, which I was, but the conversation was blurred in my mind. I do recall something about we will come for you. But, when I didn't see them coming back, and went to the top of the hill and saw what I believed was them waiting for me. I saw no reason not to go out to them.

So, what did I learn: Everything that paddler number one said, plus

1. I should have been far more sensitive to the fact that I was pulling ahead.

2. It was foolish to think that they would jeopardize themselves to paddle back to me where I was safe and where they might put themselves in danger.

3. Always paddle with people you know and trust, like these two.

4. It really happens.

Jim B

Thought for the day: Never be afraid to try something

new. Remember that amateurs built the Ark. Professionals built the

Titanic

P & H Orion

Yellow over White

jim@nspn.org

[jeffcasey]

- I agree that the radio should always be on. Mine usually is, even when it provokes laughter from others. When you need to talk to somebody else in the group by radio, it is exactly too late to tell them to turn theirs on. Mine will always be on hereafter.

- Re: rats nest. Did you have a short tow? If the main tow got mangled, you could always deploy the short tow. Most of us carry short tows which can be extended fairly easily....at least long enough to avoid getting whanged by the other boat. On the other hand, your hands were pretty full - it would have been hard to untie a slip knot to lengthen a short tow under those circumstances....I don't think I would have managed it.

- Splitting the group under pressure is EXACTLY the time to worry about communications, and to be painfully clear and repetitive about all actions and options. You can't be too clear...something always screws up. That's the part that really scares me.

Sounds like it was exciting for a while. Congratulations on getting everybody off the water with nothing more than a good scare story. I won't pretend that I am sorry that I backed out of Saturday's paddle -- the report I read said 40 knot gusts and steady over 25.

[djlewis]

Glad you are all OK. It sounds like basically good work. The proper safety margins were in place... dry suits, extra paddle, tow gear (eventually), good gloves, and all that made a big difference.

Some thoughts about your specific points...

1, 3 and 5 are about communication. That says a lot.

I don't know about eliminating misunderstandings in 1-1 communication under stress. I suspect there will always be foul-ups, no matter how hard we try. But the the VHF really changes the game significantly for the better and can make up for some of those problems (especially if you use it ;-) I guess I too will reverse my slide toward not having it on at all times, especially in the colder seasons when there isn't much annoying radio traffic anyway.

The other lesson I see is the importance of staying close together in tougher, colder conditions, especially with a minimal size group. Perhaps point #1 might have added: "and told the lead paddler to stay back with the tow rather than plunge ahead"... or maybe that's what you meant.

--David.

[Guest guest]

I did have a short tow and also a contact tow on the deck of my boat. However, the short tow was located on the shore side of my body, the boat on the seaward side. I did not want a rope around my waist and pulling on me. Saving a boat is one thing saving me is a vastly more important, at least to me.

In talking to Jed I think we figured out the cause of the foul rope. With a bag rope system like the salamander, that is with a small opening the lay up is important. If you coil the rope then stuff it into the bag it will foul. I haven't used the tow since spring during training and had lent the thing out several times. Now I know that the layup is important and always lay the rope into the stuff sack. So we have another lesson, check your safety gear your self and test it when its not used for a while.

Jim B

Thought for the day: Never be afraid to try something

new. Remember that amateurs built the Ark. Professionals built the

Titanic

P & H Orion

Yellow over White

jim@nspn.org