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Phil Allen

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Posts posted by Phil Allen

  1. being able to quickly join back together a broken paddle shaft on on overnight or multi day trip would make it a valuable repair kit item , worth taking along.

    with that in mind, might be worth packing both the tape and a "splint". For backcountry ski trips I take a piece of 18" long aluminum bar (maybe 1/4 by 1/2" dimensions) for pole repair etc.

    best

    Phil

  2. I'm debating getting an Outex cover for an older large sensor camera and using that for better images on the water. For those who haven't heard of them, it's basically a condom for the camera, with glass lens and back ports. Alex Boyd Peskin (Chicago paddler) has gotten some great shots with one.

    best

    Phil

  3. ......

    I'm still waiting for the industry to give us something with a decent gasket and a decent lens.

    kate

    Nikon actually has a largish sensor (1") water-resistant camera with interchangeable lenses that allows one to shoot raw & JPG. Be aware that some folks on the web have had issues with water penetration through an overly compressed lens gasket.

    best

    Phil

  4. Hi Rob-

    After lunch, food calories and the cag would have kept you warmer overall. It's likely you were cold, and the blood flow was being shunted away from your extremities, an early indicator you could be on the way to hypothermia. That said, cold hands and feet could just be a symptom of restricted blood flow from clothing (tight gaskets and tight overstocks) with an absolutely fine core temp. Only you know what's right for you, so use what you know.

    An aside, did you mention to your paddling partners your issues with being cold? Often, they're the best judge of our condition when we're on the hypothermia slide.

    best

    Phil

  5. I've used the panasonic TS series. First couple died over a year or two, with I expect salt water corrosion (even with washing in fresh etc). Made a neoprene slip case for the latest and it seems to be holding up better (2 years now I think). If you want batteries to last a while, turn off all the extraneous features like GPS, compass, WiFi.

    best

    Phil

  6. I'd say it's hard to have conversations or share a snack if everyone is wrapped up in their individual bivy sacks. I guess it depends on what one looks for in shelter. If I know the odds were good that I might spend the night out the bivy would be my choice. If I and my buddies needed a quick snack out of the rain then the hut is the way to go.

    Phil

  7. Hi Rob-

    Interesting points. Do you bring that entire list on your winter paddles? Seems like there's quite a bit of redundancy, particularly when it comes to shelter.

    If I'm paddling with a group of competent paddlers i.e not expressly leading, my winter kit is:

    1 pair hat and mittens for shore, often stuffed in my drysuit when paddling

    1 synthetic fill oversized coat, and if it's above freezing my storm cag

    1 pair synthetic puffy pants (for inside the drysuit if I need to sit a long while)

    2 pair of neoprene hood/beanie and 2 pair gloves

    1 pair of pogies

    1/2 of a thermaridge pad (sit pad)

    an extremely small and light weight bivy

    two contractor size garbage bags

    1 compact 4 person shelter

    1 large thermos of hot tea or a jetboil like stove

    reusable heat packs (4)

    The best way to treat hypothermia is to manage exposure so that you don't get cold. Lots of breaks, lots of snacks, hot food and hot liquids. And If everyone has a hypo kit then you can use the cold persons gear to warm them.

    And it's just me, but I really think that down gear is unlikely to stay dry when used in an emergency scenario during paddling. I can't see down really keeping it's loft wrapped around a paddler who took too long a swim.

    best

    Phil

  8. is a "Zdarsky hut" what the Brits call a Bothy bag or sometimes an nylon Igloo? Lightweight multi person floor-less shelter? If so, I carry both the multi person shelter and a very light weight bivy bag in the winter. The Bothy is great for a quick group warm up out of the wind. The bivy (along with a puffy coat, puffy pants, hat and mittens) is for me if I have to sit for more than a short while.

    best

    Phil

  9. an addition to Johns method if you've got long crossings with multiple current velocities over time is to add all the current vectors (distance and direction) to your start position. The heading from the end of the sum of your current vectors to your destination is your average heading for the duration. Good news is its a lot simpler than dealing with different ferry angles through out the day. Bad news is it doesn't give a good estimation of your local position should you need to report it.

    best

    Phil

  10. I use it when storing the boat or if the weather has gone crap on a drive. I always tether it some how as the first one disappeared on a drive. But as Suz mentions, they're a pain if you don't have two folks to load/unload the boat from the car.

    If you're planning on putting gear up in the cockpit, keep an eye on the weight and the limits of your car rack. Nothing worse than the whole thing stopping on the road behind you (or in the windshield of the car behind you).

    best

    Phil

  11. This just came across MIT's paddling list serve. Be careful out there.

    From San Fran last thursday:

    On 1/13/2014 at 12:44 PM John Boeschen <
    > wrote:


    ?Grandpa got run over by a freighter

    Paddling home from Red Rock Thursday eve?

    -inspired by ?Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,? Randy Brooks 1979


    "Oh merde," this a loose translation of an expletive heard on the bay

    Thursday night.


    The Mayor and I are 0.8 miles west of Red Rock returning to Jailhouse. The

    time's 8 PM. We're paddling on the south side of the Richmond-San Rafael

    Bridge just inside the outer fringe of light thrown out by the bridge.

    We're crossing the shipping channel.


    Paddling side-by-side in the channel, we?re musing on the invisibility of

    freighters and tankers at night, their bow lights no more visible than the

    workings of big government. We're not just musing, mind you, we're

    scanning north and south for the big ships, looking for their tell, shore

    lights winking on and off when the big vessels pass between our line of

    sight and the shore.


    This is how we've been able to spot the big guys these last 15 years. But

    not tonight. Tonight we don't see her until she's 10 seconds away from

    T-boning us. We're able to see her only because she's just entered the

    outer fringe of the bridge's light fall.


    That first brief sighting is our ?Oh merde? moment. It could?ve been the

    TransAmerica Pyramid towering over us, the sheer shock of what we see

    indiscriminate. But it?s not the TransAmerica Pyramid and we don?t waste

    time staring.


    The Mayor bolts straight ahead, acting on pure survival instinct, hoping

    to cross in front of the freighter before he's T-boned. My survival

    instinct kicks in, too, but mine is colored by an overlay of law and

    order: maritime protocol says not to cut in front of another boat.


    I back-paddle, painting by the numbers, staying within the lines of

    protocol. I'm not going to cross in front of that freighter. The Mayor,

    not bound by numbers and more of an Expressionist, paddles across those

    lines and past the freighter to safety. I do not.


    I might've made it to safety if I'd continued paddling backwards. Instead,

    I try to turn my boat around. My boat's quick, nimble, maneuverable. But

    not quick, nimble, and maneuverable enough to accomplish in 2 seconds what

    normally takes 5 seconds. The 154-knot wake from the freighter's bow hits

    me broadside.


    Hanging upside down under water, here's the first thought to pop into my

    noggin: airbags are a good invention. The second thought to pop into my

    head's more image than thought: a line of bold Tibetan script, inked dark

    on handmade paper. I'd seen both the script and the paper earlier that

    afternoon in a Buddhist institute dedicated to Tibetan language and

    research in Berkeley. I don't know how the Tibetan translates, just that

    its image is calming, reassuring.


    A huge freighter is passing within reach, and I'm feeling calm and

    peaceful. Imagine that. I don't rush to pull my sprayskirt off and swim to

    the surface. Walking my fingers around the outside of the coaming, feeling

    the texture of the sprayskirt, is pleasing. Sensual. It's a slow walk my

    fingers take. By the time they converge on the release loop at the skirt's

    head, my lungs have had enough Tibetan bliss and are clamoring for air.


    On the surface, my lungs happy, I'm a paddle length away from the ship's

    hull, a long unbroken train of metal. Under water, I wondered if the ship

    would pull me further down and toward her keel line. She didn't. On the

    surface, I wonder what'll happen when the stern goes by, what mischief the

    turning props have in mind. The stern goes by without mischief. I'm

    thankful for that.


    The freighter continues on her course, none the wiser of what's just

    transpired, of me bobbing in the cold water, of the Mayor?still in his

    boat, untouched by the freighter's bow wake?paddling to my rescue.

    Business as usual.


    The Mayor finds me quickly. Business as usual now is to get me back into

    my boat. Accomplishing this is a simple rescue technique: the T-rescue.

    Position the swamped boat at a right angle to the cockpit of the rescuer's

    boat. Push down on the stern of the swamped boat so its bow goes up onto

    the rescuer's cockpit. Make sure the cockpit of the swamped boat is facing

    down so the water runs out. Slither out of the bay into the boat, pump out

    any remaining water, paddle home, and Bob?s your uncle. Simple.


    No major storms the last 12 months have left Toilet Bowl Beach on Red Rock

    firewood-challenged. To compensate, I bring kindling from home. Squeezing

    the kindling into the small-volume stern of my 14-foot-long boat requires

    releasing air from the stern float bag. An inflated float bag displaces a

    volume of water equal to its own volume. A deflated float bag doesn't

    displace any water.


    I don't inflate my stern float bag before leaving Red Rock for Jailhouse.

    My bad. Instead of handling a boat only partially filled with water, the

    Mayor has to handle a boat overwhelmed by water (to my credit, the float

    bag in my bow is fully inflated). A gallon of bay water weighs

    approximately 8 lbs 6 oz. I don't know how many gallons, but my swamped

    boat holds a backache's worth.


    No matter our efforts, whenever we right the partially drained boat?hull

    down, cockpit up?the boat sinks below the water's surface, an infinity

    pool across the cockpit. I attempt to climb in, the boat sinks deeper. And

    so it goes.


    The water's cold, barely breaking 50 degrees Fahrenheit. I've only been in

    15-20 minutes, but I'm starting to fatigue, starting to feel sluggish.

    (Without the 10 lbs of insulation I put on over the holidays, I might not

    have lasted as long as I did.) My lips a robust blue, we call it quits,

    call the Coast Guard on the Mayor's VHF.


    The Coast Guard arrives 10 minutes later, but the Larkspur ferry beats

    them to the rescue, plucking me from the bay 5 minutes earlier. Though he

    doesn't need the lift, the Coast Guard hauls the Mayor aboard their vessel

    along with my boat, pulled from the bay by three fit crew members.


    The crew of both boats treat us graciously and professionally,

    transporting us to the Larkspur ferry terminal, staff from the terminal

    driving us to our cars at Jailhouse. We can't sing their praises loud

    enough.


    So ? what did I learn from our adventure? Here're some initial thoughts:


    If, like mine, your boat doesn't have bulkheads separating bow and stern

    from cockpit, use float bags and keep them inflated. To add an extra layer

    of immersion security, I'm going to experiment using a sea sock to limit

    the amount of water my boat takes on.


    Carry a VHF marine radio. Calling the Coast Guard on channel 16 cut short

    the time the water had hold of me. On future paddles to Red Rock, I plan

    to call the port authority on channel 14 to check for ships approaching

    the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge, backing that up with channel 13 to contact

    the bridge of ships heading our way.


    I have an app on my iPhone, Ship Finder, that tracks ships on the bay in

    real time. I didn't use it Thursday. I will on future paddles.


    The Mayor and I might have seen the freighter earlier if we had been

    paddling closer to the bridge, more light from the bridge illuminating the

    bay around us.


    From what I experienced up close with the freighter, I think it a rare

    event when a large ship actually collides head-on with a kayak, the ship's

    bow wake pushing the kayak aside before the bow strikes it. For close

    encounters like mine?2 to 5 feet from the approaching ship's bow?I'd guess

    the shorter the boat, the less likely a collision.


    I experienced no sucking vortices at the ship's bow and stern, wasn't

    pulled under the hull, or chewed up by propeller blades. That was good. I

    don?t know if these outcomes are true in all encounters. I do know that I

    don?t intend to field test their validity any time soon.


    Have a good story prepared before going home and explaining to your family

    how you managed to get run over by a freighter.


    Stats


    Date: Thursday, 9 January 2014.

    Distance: Not all the way.

    Speed: Shocking.

    Time: Passed by in a flash.

    Spray factor: Manufactured.

    Dessert: Apple slices dipped in melted semi-sweet chocolate.

    [/indent]

  12. I read a really great book over the holidays " Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time" by Dava Sobel. Covers the history and sociology of the quest to find one's longitude at sea. It's not a new book (2007) but I found it quite enjoyable.

    best

    Phil

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