Practicing a Self-Rescue

After Kathleen's previous excitement, we bought a variety of extra safety gear and I got psyched to practice getting wet myself. Today, the weather was wonderful. I just had to do a bunch of yard cleanup chores before she would let me go play in the water. I enumerate here all the reasons why my experience was much easier than hers:

1. Planned
2. Calm lake
   
3. Wetsuit
4. Two float bags in the bow
5. Paddle float
   
6. Water not quite so cold
7. Watched self-rescue video beforehand
   
8. Kathleen ready to go with PFD, ropes, and backup paddle float.

As we were watching The Dolphin Eye's "Practical Kayaking" DVD, I realized that we'd never actually seen the self-rescue section. We'd only watched the buddy rescue demonstrated in Ken & Nicole Whiting's "Recreational Kayaking" DVD. Here's the spot we used. It's at the end of our neighborhood's cove; photo taken from the adjoining neighborhood's decent-sized dock.


Here's the video of the first attempt (with color commentary by Kathleen):


Here's the video of the second attempt (Yikes, I wonder if I can do anything about that dorsal still for the image preview. Thanks, YouTube, it's very flattering!):


Context for references in the videos: Andy is our friend who was with us on the South Fork. Walter & Patty are friends on the lake who came by, in one of their boats, while we were getting started.

A very fun experience. And I feel good about succeeding both times. (Afterwards, I was kicking myself for not having tried some bracing techniques to see if I could recover from a tilt.)

I did discover one thing about the kayak dress code... If you do, in fact, dress for the water temperature, you better get in the water on warm days like this, or you'll roast. I wonder if bringing a scooper and pouring water down my neoprene shirt would be the best practice. ;-)

First Rescue Experience - Lessons Learned

In our exciting previous episode, I described our first experience getting wet in strong current when the water was COLD. Actually, it was Kathleen's experience. Here is a sideshot of the scene of excitement courtesy of Andy; as always, click on it for a bigger pic. Note the undulating surface. I don't know enough about river bottoms to know what causes this. We didn't see any rocks and Kathleen didn't touch the bottom anywhere. There had to be some variation in the bottom and a general decline.


Just downstream, where the river was wider and the flow slower, Andy measured the current at 2.4 mph. Definitely not whitewater territory, but way hard to paddle against. I tried measuring the water temperature with my Dakota carabiner UV/temp sensor watch but it didn't adjust fast enough. I'd guess it was 50+/-5 degrees F. You can see the tree stump on the far side of the river about a quarter width from the right edge of the photo. Kathleen's last attempt was on the far side of this tree. Andy figures her getting pushed against the stump, as the current overcame her effort, and an upstream lean was the reason she flipped. The eddy spot was by the bank, on the left edge of the photo, where the light-colored tree trunk is against the bank and going into the water. This is where Kathleen and her kayak ended up.

After getting back home, Andy re-read some of his literature on safety and rescues with renewed focus and intensity. Hear, hear; I second that! Nothing like a real-life experience to demonstrate the relevance of the information.

So, what did Kathleen and I do RIGHT for a river paddle with strong current?

• had PFD's on and cinched snugly
  
• had a bilge pump and sponge
  
• had watched a video that showed a pair doing a self-rescue
• had clothing change in bulkhead
• each had a whistle (not that she used it to get my attention)
• since the water was cold, and re-entry to the boat not immediate, get swimmer to shore first; then worry about the boat & stuff
• Mike had another set of clothes at the car
  

How was Andy better prepared than we were?

• had a tow rope that was pre-tied to his bow handle
• had a spare paddle
• was using paddle & deck rigging to help stabilize empty kayak
  

What did we learn about strong current river paddles?

• lean INTO the downstream strainer (or obstacle), do NOT lean upstream into the current
• do NOT let boaters get too far apart; when things go wrong, they go wrong quickly
• stay especially nearby when trying a tough spot, but boaters need space to make their run; make sure a strong, designated, paddler is last in line
  
• have multiple cell phones, or beacons, if you need to get additional help
• get a sense for the flow rate of the river from USGS water gauges or resevoir release patterns
  

What else should we have done differently?

• each kayak needs a bilge pump and sponge
• have multiple tow ropes
  
• have flotation bags (to make up for lack of front bulkhead)
• have paddle float
• pack an emergency blanket
  
• have dry bags holding stuff in the cockpit
• be more careful about really narrow spots; wider kayaks will have tighter fits & more difficulty getting paddles into the water for effective strokes (same for longer paddles)
  
• practice self & buddy rescues (preferably in warm water)
• experience cold water immersion in a safe situation
• when in warm water, try using a partner boat for emptying a full cockpit; it'll be a lot faster than bilge pumping!

What about clothing? Should we have dressed differently? Kathleen was wearing splash pants and jacket for staying dry in the boat and warmth. Neither of us were wearing insulating layers for the cold water. I do have a neoprene top and farmer john - but I could not imagine wearing them for this warm weather trip. There is the adage of kayakers dressing for water temp, not air temp. And I can see that for sea kayaking and fast water trips. I've worn them on our lake when the air temp was cold too. I know it's risky; not sure where the boundary should be. Distance from shore should be a factor. South Fork wasn't more than 30 feet across anywhere along our trip.

In a previous post, I'd noted that paddling against the current will exacerbate any deviation of your boat from a straight line. The stronger the current, the faster your bow will be turned and you'll be going sideways. When pointed perpendicular to the current, you have the LEAST control over where you go. Be very aware of any nearby obstacles - they affect your options going upstream and you might see too much of them when recovering from a failed attempt. I was hoping to experiment and learn in current on the Broad River right next to the Greenway parking lot with Jeff, who knows the area. We could use more practice.

Regarding the flow rates, we're not quite sure about this one. Obviously, higher than normal CFS or water levels from water gauges says something about general conditions. However, width and depth of the channels does more to influence the current at any particular spot. Andy and I are both looking for more information on this one.

But what if it's just a lake paddle, or an impounded river? I'm not sure I'd drop any of this stuff. The extra paddle? Maybe?

South Fork, by Lincolnton

Today turned out to be a remarkable paddle for a number of reasons. I'd wondered about the South Fork of the Catawba River - it's nearby, but not mentioned in the flatwater paddling references I've seen (either print or internet). Andy had scouted several put-in options but noted that there weren't as many as you'd expect. Some research revealed lots of dams for different mills and industries and a few spots for whitewater kayakers for elementary warm-ups or play spots. Also, in the past, South Fork was not known for it's cleanliness. Andy had scouted a put in on Laboratory Road near Lincolnton - a rail trail by a dam that appears to have powered a Civil War era plant that made medicine for the Confederacy. Well, maybe today's actual dam and actual factory weren't Civil War era stuff, but it was impressive anyway and served as the start for quite a day on the water.

Neither Andy nor Kathleen and I had been on the South Fork before. We crossed over it on various road trips, and Andy had driven around looking for put-in options. Betsy Ross Park, within Lincolnton, the most obvious candidate, doesn't take advantage of the river that creates one of it's boundaries. Andy and I had noted several places where paths led to steep drops into the river - good for fishing, I suppose, but not good for putting in kayaks. So, Laboratory Road it was.

The put-in, at the head of the South Fork Catawba River Rail Trail, can be found on Google maps with these coordinates: 35.442107,-81.25881. The parking lot was about 100 yard away from a decent put-in spot. This was a useful trial run at a portage. Andy had a homemade cart for the gravel path. We didn't bring our dolly and walked the boats one at a time. (Note to self: bring the dolly next time.) The river is impounded in this section by a dam. Photo courtesy of Andy:


Here's the put-in with a view towards the dam ledge and Kathleen & Andy ready to go. (Note Andy's accoutrements tied to the deck of his kayak ... this will be relevant later in this long post.)

We were heading upstream around 10:45am. It was a wonderfully warm day. Daylight savings time had just kicking in so we had the whole day in front of us. We planned on going up as far as we could but had every expectation that a tree might block our way.

The river wasn't especially wide or narrow. We could have paddled three abreast the whole way if we'd wanted. There were very few houses, some industries, and several stretches where the west side was marked as a nature preserve. It was almost completely tree lined. Birds and frogs were around in various stretches but not omni-present. There was very little street noise so, all around, it was a nice bucolic paddle; even though were going through the western half of Lincolnton. Just a number of fishing spots (only one being used by a fellow). No landings, ramps, or stairs implying consistent usage of the river. We came quite close to three Muscovy ducks and saw two pairs of wood ducks off in the distance. On the way back, Andy spotted a deer. And we encountered a couple in a canoe with the guy fishing. Here's a sample view up and downstream at a random spot.


Click on the upstream photo to get the bigger image and note the riffles in the water. The current was pretty strong. We'd had a rare February snowstorm the week before, preceded by heavy rain. The further upstream we went the stronger the flow was. And we were able to keep going ... and going ... and going. There were a few spots where trees created snags (a.k.a. strainers) that forced us through narrows. For the most part, these weren't constricting snags that really amplified the current. Just narrow spots that were tricky to get through. Kathleen, having the widest kayak (at 29 inches), had more difficulty with these. We found a really nice sand bank to beach on and have lunch. Andy's GPS had us 3.7 miles upriver and an 1 hr 15 min in. Note Kathleen and my different clothing strategy ...


The current here was quite noticable. All of us found it "interesting" that we'd be paddling along and, without any particular water sign, the current would get much stronger. The river was quite muddy, so we couldn't see more than a few inches down. We never saw the bottom - way too much silt from runoff. We kept humping it upstream but the afternoon was getting on, so we started entertaining thoughts of turning around. Lesson learned from our previous Huffman's Bridge paddle, this time I had a map with the river/creeks colored in so that we'd have some landmarks (and could stay on course). As we approached the bridge for Reepsville Road, we decided to make this our turn-around point. We'd paddled 5.6 miles in 3 hrs 30 min with a short and long rest. There was this really nifty looking structure where we "parked" on the water and rested again. It reminded me of X-Files episodes where unlabelled structures would lead into deep underground caverns for all kinds of government-run experiments.


The current here was the strongest we'd encountered. You could see the water undulating as it went past this structure. There was even a small ledge at the top. We decided to give it a go for the sake of being able to turn-around and ride it back down. Kathleen went first, me second, and Andy third. Kathleen didn't make it on her first attempt. I went a little further toward the opposite side and made it up. Since the current was still strong after clearing the mini-ledge, I went further up to where a big tree was aground midstream, created a barrier, and gave me a spot to park and rest. I didn't look back but I heard Andy's comment when he didn't make it past the mini-ledge. Here's a picture of Kathleen trying again with Andy waiting for another turn ... and me taking a picture of myself on the tree. (Sure looks like I could use to lose some weight.)


Little did I know that while I was taking pictures here, Kathleen was making her fourth unsuccessful, and disastrous, attempt. As Andy described it later, she tried going up on the far left, got off her straight line upstream, got turned towards her right, ran up on a mostly submerged tree, tilted upriver, and the current flipped her over into the water. Luckily, in her big cockpit Pungo 120, she fell right out of the boat and didn't get caught up in it or the spray skirt she uses. The current pushed her and the boat downstream quickly and she ended up in an eddy up against the steep river bank on the left. The PFD did it's job and she stayed afloat without much struggle even though the water was over her head. The flip occurred so fast, she can't even remember it happening. Now, the trick was getting back into the boat! Hence, as we refer to it later, the "excitement" goes into much slower motion. Okay, maybe, longer-running activities is a better description.

Andy is right there, but I'm upstream. After putting away the camera I look downstream and something doesn't look right. I see Andy in his yellow kayak and I see Kathleen's green one. But her black hat is not above her yellow PFD above her green kayak, it's at the end of her boat and I don't see her PFD. Yikes! "Are you in the water?" I holler. Incredulously, she asks Andy, who's next to her now, "Did he really ask if I was in the water?" At this point, she's flipped her kayak upright again but the cockpit is completely full and only the stern is above water. The bow is about 6 inches below water. I head back downstream and stop at a section of the mysterious structure upstream of them and on the opposite side. All I can do is go downstream just beyond them and join them in the eddy spot. Kathleen is holding onto a branch sticking up from the water. Andy has his bilge pump out and is starting to empty out the cockpit. Even though the air temperature is in the upper 70's, the water temperature is not. Kathleen is breathing in shallow sharp gasps and I'm thinking she needs to get out of the water as soon as possible. It takes a wee bit of "persuading" to get her moving towards the river bank where she can get up. It's a good thing she's got her NRS Mystery Gloves on, because it's rather brambly where she gets up. I try to guide her to her left where roots and branches are available but once she gets out of the water, she keeps going right through the brambles and up the steep bank.

I pull out our bilge pump and between the two of us, we eventually get the water pumped out. Andy had to reach down and grab the bow handle to keep the cockpit combing above water. Otherwise, we wouldn't have gotten anywhere with the pumps. We finally get Kathleen's kayak pumped and sponged out. She's up in the sun getting warm. Actually, she's not getting warm but, at least, she's not getting colder as fast as if she were in the water. She determines that the bank by the nearby bridge pilings should be okay for getting back down to the boat. Andy's handy-dandy tow rope, in it's first trip out, is tied to his bow handle. He ties the other to her bow handle and heads 15 yards downstream towards the landing spot. Kathleen's boat trails him and the current carries it past where Andy turns in, but he reels it in without difficulty. I follow along and pull up next to her boat. After inspecting his GPS data, Andy guessed it was about 25 minutes from her tipping until we got her boat to the landing spot.

Luckily, that morning, I'd insisted that Kathleen put her extra cloths in the back bulkhead to stay dry. Previously, she'd just kept them in the open bag she has right behind her seat. I popped her easy-open 2009 model rear hatch and threw her dry clothes and crocks up to her. After changing, she makes it down the bank and her now-wet-and-dirty, original outfit goes into the same hatch. With our wedging her boat in to the concrete rip-rap, she's able to get back in. We've had enough for a day and start heading back. Below the bridge, Andy measures the current at 2.5 mph. Even though the excitement had a happy ending, we are more subdued on the return. This time, the current is helping us out and it's a good thing. We were rather tuckered out. When we got back to the put-in, we'd been out for 6 hours.

Throughout the excitement, Andy was calm and collected. Kathleen stayed calm too. (I was a bit more agitated.) She got a little disoriented in the water - the water temp might have been in the 40's (F) and was certainly in the low 50's. Andy and I talked through options, agreed on actions, and executed. Thanks, Andy, for being there and getting us out of a real jam! And credit the precise timings and distances to him and his nifty wrist GPS wonder gadget.

Next post ... lessons learned.

UPDATE: (2009/03/12) More of Andy's photos.