Fatal Tide

In June of 2002, an adventure race in New Brunswick went terribly awry during its kayaking segment and one of the racers died.
David Leach's account of the ill-fated race, Fatal Tide, is a straight forward but engrossing account of the tragedy. He examines the events of the day, of how many of the racers, tired and exhausted from the running and cycling portion of the race, were at best novice kayakers. Many, including the victim, had only kayaked once or twice before they took to the stormy waves of the Bay of Fundy for the kayaking segment without immersion gear or any idea of the windy weather forecast. Dozens of single kayakers hit the water that day; only three completed the course. The rest either turned around, beached themselves before the end, or had to be rescued.
One amateur athlete named René, who had kayaked only once or twice before, was in fourth place when he launched in his borrowed racing kayak. He flipped over 100 feet from shore, righted himself with help from the rescue Zodiac and insisted on continuing, and paddled out into 20 knot winds and two-metre waves. 90 minutes later he was in the water, his head held above water by another kayaker using both hands as they drifted backwards past the starting point and towards towering cliffs. They were rescued by a passing fishing boat, but too late to save René.
Leach also describes a litany of failures by the organizers. Race volunteers had no list of competitors, or any way to communicate with each other. The organizers had failed to notify local law enforcement and emergency services about the race, nor had they informed any the racers of the weather forecast. They had only one rescue boat that soon proved no match for the waves they were facing. The organizers did supply some kayak training, but it was only a five-minute on-land demonstration of how to use the pump, the paddle float and a description of a paddle-float re-entry.
Local kayakers were aghast at the lack of preperation and the number of novice kayakers who were venturing out under such stormy conditions.
But Leach doesn't lay all the blame on the organizers. He spends a far portion of the book exploring the reasons why adventure racers want to risk their lives and the notion of "shared risk," how participants must share the blame when they proceed into dangerous conditions. Many racers continued paddling into bad conditions because of their perceived "need" to finish, even though it was obvious that the best course of action was to head for land and shelter.
Leach also delves into kayaking history and safety, even devoting a chunk of a chapter to Tim Ingram, the infamous Sponson Guy.
Leach also explores hypothermia. Most kayakers do not drown; they die from hypothermia or its effects, and Leach offers up some surprising clues about some little-known effects of hypothermia which may killed this paddler and others.
This thoughtful and sobering book reminds us of the risk we take going on the water, and the need to be properly prepared. And that it's okay to say "No."

Sea Kayak With Gordon Brown

Lost in the holiday chaos of late December was the arrival of my copy of Sea Kayak with Gordon Brown. We invited some kayaking friends over just before Christmas for a viewing.
The film is really two films in one; Gordon taking a small expedtion around some Scottish Islands is interspersed with Gordon giving some paddling lessons and explaining some of his technique. You can also watch the expedition and the lesson section separately as independent features.
Overall we enjoyed the film, particularly the travelogue portion. We found the lesson portion to be quite informative as well, perhaps a bit advanced for an absolute beginner but all paddlers should get something from the very cleanly filmed lesson segments. If there's any fault to be had it's that by splitting the focus of the film in two halves (the expedition and the lessons), neither half really seems to get the length and detail it deserves. We wanted more of each portion, and perhaps this could have been accomplished by intergrating some of the technique was learned into the group paddle. On the other hand, if the audience is indeed wanting more, then it's a sure sign that the filmmakers have created a DVD that's worth revisiting again and again.
Besides, it does say Volume One on the cover...so perhaps a Volume Two at some point....?

This is The Sea

What a treat it was to re-acquaint myself with this DVD, the first in Justine Curgenven’s This is the Sea series. After a slightly cheeky introduction, she introduces us to a championship paddler from Greenland, and that’s quickly followed by profiles of well-known paddlers such as Nigel Foster, Chris Duff, Shawna Franklin and Leon Sommé, and Greg Stamer.
Then we travel the world for brief tours of exciting paddling locations from the craggy caves and arches off Sonoma, California, to paddling with manatees with Florida, and to Greenland and paddling with icebergs. Also included are stops in at the San Juan islands and Deception Pass in Washington state, and some crazy playtime at Penryn Mawr tidal race in Wales.
Some of the segments are very brief, but the highlight is a longer segment detailing a kayaking expedition by Justine and a friend in Kamchatka, Russia. They must bring a Russian guide with them into what is formidable paddling country, but the problem is that their guide has never kayaked before. Hilarity ensues, especially when the Russian Army gets involved. I've always enjoyed the longer expedition segments of the This is the Sea series the most and this segment is no exception. Alternating between breathtaking scenery and crazy surf launches and landings, you really get the sense that you were part of the expedition. If I hadn’t been warm, dry and eating popcorn in a big comfy chair, I’d swear I was right there with them.
If you’ve never checked out this great series of DVDs, you should. And this first one is great place to start.

This is the Sea Two

The second of Justine's Curgenven's series of kayaking DVD series, This is the Sea Two, cements this series's reputation as some of the best sea kayaking films you'll ever see. This volume opens up with Bryan Smith running the tidal race at Skookumchuck,quickly followed by segments featuring Doug van Doren on Greenland sticks, a circumnavigation of Japan, and a profile of Sean Morely. There are some exciting footage of expert sea kayakers playing in the crazy tidal races at Penrhyn Mawr and "The Bitches" in Wales, followed by a relaxing paddle on the sandy shores of Lake Michigan, which looks like a beautiful place to paddle -- maybe one day... Justine also visits Newfoundland, as well as the Lofoten Islands in Norway.
As always, the highlights are the expeditions films, in this case it's a feature segment on Justine and two other paddlers kayaking around Tasmania. It's a wonderfully shot adventure, with gorgeous scenery.
It's a must-see for kayaking fans.

Southern Exposure

In 2000 Chris Duff became the second person to complete a solo kayak circumnavigation of the South Island of New Zealand. In Southern Exposure, his memoir of his journey, Duff offers up a thrilling story, starting with his inspiration, research and preparation. After he launches, we follow along as he endures long periods alone, harsh winds, the imposing Fjordland region, and crazy surf landings, including the harrowing attempted landing that wrecked his boat and damn near wrecked him. Featuring many pictures and maps this is a terrific read for those of you who like travel adventure books.

This Is the Sea 3

The third in Justine Curgenven's series of sea kayaking DVDs, the aptly named This is the Sea 3, continues the fine tradition of excellence of the previous volumes, and features segments ranging from some short light-hearted segments of kayaking in crazy surf, to longer segments exploring expedition paddling. In between, Justine offers up profiles of well-known kayakers, and in an interesting coincidence, not only does this DVD feature a profile of Paul Caffyn, the first person to kayak around Australia, it has a segment on Freya Hoffmeister who would later become the second person to kayak around Australia, and another segment features Stuart Trueman who is currently vying to be the third person to kayak around the same continent. But I digress.
Although the shorter segments are worthy of your attention, I'm always drawn to the longer expedition films, and this DVD is no exception. In one, Justine and her partner make a crossing in the Shetland Islands during a thunderstorm, while another is a lovely travelogue through the Faroe Islands. The jewel of the DVD is a 40-minute film following Trueman, Laurie Geoghegan and Andrew McAuley on an extensive kayaking expedition to Antarctica. It's occasionally difficult to watch knowing the fate that would befall McAuley only a year after this expedition, but clearly the three paddlers were enjoying their thrilling (and chilling) trip where few have ever been...well, maybe Laurie not so much when he get ill. Their love of life and adventure shines through.

Rowed Trip

Adventurers Colin and Julie Angus decided early in their marriage to explore the roots of their respective families -- Colin's from Scotland, and Julie's from Syria and Germany. Since Colin had previously circled the earth under human power, joined on part of his journey by Julie, another human-powered expedition seemed to be in order. They choose to row and bicycle from Scotland to Syria, travelling the canals and rivers of Europe in a pair of specially designed row boats whenever possible, or towing them behind their bikes on trailers when rowing was impractical.
The resultant trip is documented in their book Rowed Trip. From the north of Scotland, peddle and paddle their way down through England, out the Thames, across the English Channel, through France and Germany, then down the Danube to the Black Sea to Syria, this fun and exciting read recounts the Angus's encounters, from with snotty lock-masters along the canals of England and border bureaucracy in Europe, to the seemingly endless supplies of hospitality and assistance offered up by total strangers. In fact, if there is one theme that runs through this and the Angus' previous adventures, it is that almost every stranger they encounter willingly offers kindness and good cheer, if not food and lodging.
This is another in the Angus' growing library of well-told expedition stories.

Confessions of a Wave Warrior

In the 1980s, Eric Soares, together with other like-minded individuals, formed the Tsumani Rangers, a rag-tag collection of kayakers specializing in taking surfing and rock gardening to the edge and beyond.
Eric's new book, Confessions of a Wave Warrior, tells the story of his kayaking career, from childhood adventures to a stint in the navy, to discovering kayaking and the keen friendships he his forged in the paddling community through the years, and recovering from heart surgery. Soares presents his stories in an engaging and humerous style, almost as if he's sitting next to you in a pub and regaling you with his tall tales -- I can almost smell the ale and fried food. Along the way he drops in notions about his philosophy for life, and even lets other Rangers spin a yarn or two.
Perhaps not it's the most in-depth and detailed of kayaking books you'll read this year, but certainly one of the most enjoyable. Anyone who enjoys stories of kayakers taking it to the edge will enjoy this.

The Golden Spruce

To the natives of Haida Gwaii it was a mythical symbol that had stood on their homeland for hundreds of years. To loggers and environmentalists it was symbol of what was being lost in the rain forests of BC to axe and machine. To all, it was a wonder -- a unique golden Sitka spruce tree, surrounded by a stand of its green brethren until a winter night in 1997 when it was cut down in a bizarre environmental protest.
John Vaillant's award-winning book The Golden Spruce recounts the tale of Grant Hadwin, a long-time forester and expert outdoorsman, who came to hate the destruction being waged in the forests and fought against it, while at the same time apparently descending into madness and psychosis. Struggling to find a way to protest the destruction of the forests, he made his way to Haida Gwaii (formerly the Queen Charlotte Islands), took a chainsaw to the golden spruce, and escaped back to the mainland. He was quickly arrested, but possibly believing that his life would be in danger should he use public transportation to return to Haida Gwaii for the trial, he chose instead to kayak solo from Prince Rupert on the mainland to the islands across Hecate Strait which at times can be one of the nastiest pieces of water on the BC coast. Althoug he was an experienced outdoorsman, he was at best a novice kayaker, and he paddled out into the winter's fury and was never seen again.
But Vaillant's book is about more than just Hadwin's collapse into depression. Vaillant recounts the history of the Haida, their encounters with European explorers and the near destruction of their native culture that those encounters wrought, and the significance of the golden spruce to Haida culture. He also explores the history of logging in British Columbia, and the all-too human dichotomy that many loggers feel -- that the destruction and raping of the forests is awful and regrettful, but hey, it's a living.
Although Hadwin's kayak was found smashed up months later on a small island in Alaska, some believe that he staged the wreck and simply disappeared into the wild he loved so much and knew so well. Some think that if anyone could have pulled off a disappearing act in the middle of absolutely nowhere with little or no supplies, it was Hadwin. He'd done it before.
The Golden Spruce is a terrific book that I can't recommend highly enough.

On Celtic Tides

In 1996, Chris Duff kayaked around Ireland. On Celtic Tides is a terrific account of his twelve-hundred mile journey around the Emerald Isle. Duff documents with rich prose the sweeping cliffs and snarling waters he encountered, as well as his encounters with various folk who invariably ask when told that Duff is planning to paddle around Ireland, “In that little boat? Are you mad?”
He may not have been mad, but the idea of kayaking solo around Ireland in three months is a daunting one, and Duff’s narrative takes us into the quaint villages along the coast, the ancient ruins and castles that dot the shore, and the blistering storms and waves that batter the western shore.
It’s a wonderful read, taking us from moments of quiet introspection as Duff visits ancient pagan ruins, to moments of exhilaration and terror as Duff battles surging tides and waves along the battered open coastline. Highly recommended.

Solo

To this day, Andrew McAuley remains something of a controversial figure to some in the kayaking community. Some would consider his risk-taking adventures as acts of foolhardiness and selfishness, especially in light of his young family that he left behind. Others would say that he lived the life that we wanted to live on his own terms, fully knowing and weighing the risks that his adventure-seeking lifestyle demanded.
And it’s this issue that we adventure sports participants wrestle with every time we take part in the sports we love so much, whether we feel at home in 10 metre waves, or scurry to shore at the first sign of a ripple in the water. Is it worth staying out when the weather looks dodgy, or the wind picks up, or the waves get gnarly? We want to challenge ourselves, to do something few have done, to have an “experience,” but what of the cost? Do we play it safe? Or do we, literally, get in over our heads? At the end of the day, no matter our skill level or desire for adventure, we all want to go home.
In many ways, this is the central dilemma in Vicki McAuley’s new book Solo, the tragic story of her husband’s ill-fated solo kayak crossing of the Tasman Sea in 2007. Andrew, whose draft text for his own now-uncompleted book about the crossing is quoted extensively, describes his wish to be the first to paddle across the 1600 km sea as a dangerous and selfish quest, yet he is driven to accomplish his dream, believing his life would remain unfulfilled should he never attempt it. He seems torn, understanding the anguish he is putting his family through by taking on this risky venture, and it seems at times that the right word from Vicki would halt the expedition planning and he would like his dream go, yet she can’t bring herself to show any weakness that she feels may undermine her husband’s confidence.
The book describes Andrew’s career in mountain-climbing until a near-fatal fall ended it, and his growing interest in extreme expedition kayaking, then moves up to his preparations for his Tasman crossing, his aborted first attempt, then the crossing itself, and its sad conclusion, and Vicki’s battle with grief and depression afterwards. And it leaves questions that will never be answered. Did Andrew truly appreciate the magnitude of the endeavour he was undertaking? Did he rush his preparations and planning fearing that another expedition might make the crossing first?
It’s a gripping story and told well, with Vicki’s heartbreak dripping off almost every page. He was an extraordinary individual, and

The Wave

As kayakers, we seek them out, and we avoid them. We harness them and ride them. We even generate them. And in Susan Casey's latest book, she seeks out the the biggest waves she can find.
In The Wave, she follows the world's best extreme surfers as they travel the world in search of the elusive 100-foot ride. From Hawaii to Mexico to the Far East, she follows the elite of the sport as they push the barrier between remarkable and reckless. With eloquent language and in the manner of Vicki McAuley's Solo or Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air, she explores the need of some people to push the edge almost to the point of falling over it. And a fall off waves like Mavericks or Jaws could be a life-altering or life-ending experience.
But she doesn't limit her search for the big waves to the surfing beaches. She consulted with physicists and oceanographers to learn the latest science on the creation of rogue waves, and the effects climate change is having on the oceans. She met with salvagers who take control of disabled tankers and cargo ships after their crews have been rescued. And she explored an inlet in Alaska that in 1958 suffered stunning damage from a 1,700 foot-tall tsunami. (Yes, 1,700 feet. That is not a typo.)
It's a rollicking good read and will take you as close as words can to sliding up a big one on a board as the foam splashes around you, and the thunder rattles up through your bones.

Sea Kayaker: Deep Trouble

I received this book as a Christmas gift a couple of years ago and I knew right away it would be an interesting read. During the evening’s celebrations, I randomly flipped open the book and the first sentence I read was, “Mike watches as a huge great white shark lunges up through the surface, latches it jaws around the kayak, just behind me, and then blasts more than half of its giant bulk out of the water.” Clearly, this is my kind of book!
But seriously, this book by Matt Broze and George Gronseth is based on the accident report feature in Sea Kayaker magazine. Each chapter of the book is organized similarly to the feature in the magazine: an incident report, followed by a “lesson learned” conclusion. This is my favourite section of the magazine -- informative, educational, and even entertaining if your tastes include a touch of schadenfreude -- and the stories culled for the book fit also that description. Apart from the above-mention shark attack, there’s a number of similar themes that run through the stories: weather that unexpectedly turned bad, novice kayakers that get in over their heads in rough conditions (some of them literally), and experienced kayakers under estimating calmer conditions forgoing their usual safety routines and equipment. And not all the stories end happily.
The book also features a large section on kayak safety and numerous sidebars discussing skills, gear and techniques. Highly entertaining and highly recommended.

Lost in Mongolia

Two years after Colin Angus and two buddies descended down the Amazon in a rubber raft, Colin was taking part in another adventure. This time he and his companions were descending the entire length of the the Yenisey River in Russia, one of the last great rivers in the world to be travelled from source to mouth. Using kayaks and a raft, they journeyed from Mongolia through the Siberian outback to the Arctic Ocean battling floods, heat waves and the Russian mob. And along the way, the group gets separated after the raft capsizes and Colin has to survive with supplies or clean water for twelve days. [SPOILER ALERT: Obviously, he survived to write the book, entitled appropriately Lost in Mongolia.]
Another in Angus’s growing collection of true-life travel tales, it’s a solidly written yarn of adventure in a strange land and well-worth checking out.

Amazon Extreme

It’s sounds like a disaster waiting to happen: three young men, thousands of miles of the Amazon River, and one rubber raft. And in Amazon Extreme, Colin Angus’s telling of the tale, many times it nearly was.
Colin and two buddies, Ben Kozel and Scott Borthwick, embarked on an adventure to paddle down the entire length of the Amazon, but to do this they must hike (with all their gear) through the Peruvian Andes mountains to the source of the Amazon. From there, facing mosquitoes, gunmen, and some of the most dangerous rapids on earth, this trio of adventurers embark on a five journey down the mightiest river on earth. Did I mention the rapids?
Angus relates this rollicking tale with wit and enthusiasm. Fans of adventure writing will enjoy this story.

Without a Paddle

Journalist Warren Richey, newly divorced and having a mid-life crisis, decided almost on a whim to enter a kayak race circumnavigating Florida. This would require Richey to paddle at least 65 km a day for 30 straight days, as well as endure a gruelling 100 km portage.
It’s not just a race around Florida, it’s a tour through Richey’s life as he faces the unexpected turns in both the coastline and his life. He begins the journey with an injured shoulder and the ghosts of his failed marriage, and travels almost 2000 km around the state, reliving the highs and low of both his career and his personal life, and as he keeps up a punishing paddling rate of 18 to 20 hours of paddling a day.
Not only does Richey gives us a descriptive and interesting narrative of his race around Florida, he also offers up engaging vignettes from his life as he recalls his adventures in the Middle East and his journalistic career. When he's not thoroughly confused from lack of sleep, he reflects on his life's choices, and a debates another life-altering choice he's considering making when the race is over. Entertaining and heartfelt, Richey's is a journey that is well worth taking with him.

Rowboat in a Hurricane

There’s enough adventure in Colin Angus’s human-powered trip around the world for a second book. And lo, it has appeared in the form of Julie Angus’s memoir of the Atlantic rowboat crossing, Rowboat in a Hurricane. While perhaps a bit of a repetition for someone who has already read Colin’s account, Julie’s version of the story is no less exciting and engaging, and it’s always interesting to get a different perspective on events. If your interest lies with just the rowboat crossing then Julie’s book more than covers that adventure, but for the full story of the circumnavigation adventure, you should read both.

Stepping Stones of Ungava and Labrador

So here's something that I didn't know. The only place in North America where the Nazis landed in WWII was Hutton Peninsula in Labrador. Here, on October 22, 1943, a crew from U-537, a German submarine, landed and constructed a secret automated weather station. Since weather generally moves west to east across the Atlantic, the British received accurate weather forecasts from their Allies in Canada and the United States. Germany wanted the same weather reports and planned to place a series of clandestine automated weather stations along the Labrador coast. (Another was scheduled to by built in 1944, but that U-boat was sunk in the mid-Atlantic en route.) After the war, the station lay undiscovered until 1981 when a German engineer researching a book on the German weather service contacted Canadian authorities who investigated the site and found it undisturbed. The German sailors had even left behind American cigarette packs scattered about to divert suspicion.
All of this has nothing to do with kayaking, but historical anecdotes like this are part of the charm of Nigel Foster's new book Stepping Stones of Ungava and Labrador.
Foster first paddled the area in 1981. He paddled south out of Baffin Island to Resolution Island, hoping to from there to cross Hudson Strait to Labrador and continue south down the east coast, but the trip did not start out well, as traveling delays put him two weeks behind schedule, and at Resolution he decided to cross the strait instead of returning to Baffin. He had a harrowing crossing in rain, wind and fog, and he was forced to abandon his trip soon after. In 2004, he returned with Kristin to complete his voyage along the coast of Labrador.
The fact that bad weather prevented Foster and his paddling partner Kristin Nelson from landing and making the short trek to visit the ancient Nazi curiosity doesn't detract from Foster's engaging storytelling. While going into detail about the planning and the logistics of the trip, he also goes into some historical detail about the terrain he is travelling and the people he is meeting, and tells of encounters with polar bears and breathtaking scenery. A terrific read, and well worth checking out.

Crossing the Ditch

Imagine that two young Aussie blokes have decided to kayak across one of the roughest stretches of ocean in the world, The Tasman Sea. Imagine that when they begin planning their quest that, although they are adventurers, they have only limited experience in kayaks, yet they plan to paddle an ocean that regularly kicks up two-story waves. Imagine that they will be taking refuge from the frequent and violent storms in a tiny cabin on their specially-built kayak, and that one of them is the claustrophobic while the other is chronically seasick. And imagine that the last person to attempt this crossing was lost at sea.
It sounds pretty crazy and no doubt some will argue that it is, but in January 2008, James Castrission and Justin Jones became the first people to successfully kayak from Australia to New Zealand. Castrission's book, Crossing the Ditch, is a terrifically good read chronicling the two mates' adventure.
From some brief family history, through their decision to undertake the expedition and their many months of preparation, Castrission takes us through the story of design and out-fitting their kayak (named Lot 41), and how it almost sank on their first sea trial. He leads us through his search for a cure to his chronic seasickness, a malady which could have halted the expedition before it even began, and he describes his ever-changing and complex feelings towards Andrew McAuley, who beat them across the Tasman, but was lost within sight of New Zealand.
Castrission's description of the crossing itself is terrific. They reached the halfway point on Day 17; little did they realize that the second half would take them 45 more days as weather and currents forced them to paddle an extra 1100 km on top of the planned distance of 2200 km.
There's also a detailed appendix with stat and info about their kayak, food supply, training regime, and equipment.
A great book, seek it out.

Titanic (1943)

Titanic! The story of a ship and an iceberg and the ruinous gluttony of the British Empire!
Titanic! The story of the heroic German first officer who saved the day!
Titanic! The story of the obviously Jewish ship owner, who bet his fortune on the speed of his ship and almost paid with his life!
Titanic! In the original German with subtitles!
No, this isn’t James Cameron’s epic 1996 Titanic, it’s a 1943 German propaganda film of the same name.
Unlike Cameron’s film which puts fictional characters into the story while remaining true to historical facts, this version uses the basic story of iceberg meets ship to hang a propaganda-filled, greed-driven plot on.
Bruce Ismay and the other owners of Titanic and the White Star Line have hatched a plot where they will buy millions of shares of White Star stock before and during the voyage. Ismay will force Captain Smith to speed up and make the crossing in record time, and they’ll make a killing when the stock value goes up. An interesting idea to be sure, but it’s not the least bit factual. (And it doesn’t help that Ismay is portrayed as Jewish when he wasn’t.)
Newly arrived on Titanic is First Officer Peterson, newly transferred from Germany, and lucky for the passengers he did, because he seems to be the only competent officer on the ship. The heroic Peterson manages to dress down the Captain, reconcile with an old flame, launch lifeboats single-handedly, survive the sinking, rescue a child from the water and denounce the British Empire at a Parliamentary inquiry into the sinking. Not bad for an 85 minute film. At least he isn’t blonde.
Despite the questionable taste of the propaganda aspects of the film and its wild historical inaccuracies, Titanic does manage to hold its own as a film. Its lavish sets and costumes (many inaccurate, but nonetheless spectacular) can only make one wonder how a country paying for a war against the rest of the world could afford a production like this.
The sinking sequences are well done and exciting, and the special effects are fine for its time. (In fact some shots were nicked and used in 1959’s A Night To Remember.)
An interesting oddity, the 1943 version of Titanic is worth a look. And Titanic buffs should note the DVD contains an excellent collection of actual 1912 Titanic newsreel coverage.