|
|||||||||
|
|
Light bulb moments
Two outstanding coaches
and a friendly atmosphere made the Scottish Sea Kayaking Symposium a
success. Simon Willis even found
a cure for midges. You can
try this yourself. Sit in your
sea kayak on a beach and, in one fluid movement, stand up. Was there a little wobble
perhaps? Arm out to one side for
balance? Once youÕve eliminated
both, try the next step. Do
exactly the same on the water.
Without hesitation or wobble, without even looking at what youÕre
doing, and while chatting casually to a floating circus of twenty or more
open-mouthed paddlers, smoothly stand in your cockpit like you were rising
from a chair to make a cup of tea.
CanÕt do it? Then youÕre
not Nigel Foster. This
isnÕt a kayaking party-trick, it demonstrates what Nigel is all about;
ÒcontrolÓ. Through his
enthusiasm, he encouraged us to play with our boats and paddles, feel what
was happening as we tried switched edges or placed our paddles in different
spots. I was alongside a
five-star paddler Richard Cree who later told me, ÒI have never see edge or
blade control like that. Every
bow rudder goes in precisely at the right spot. And even with twenty-odd people in windy conditions, he
never shouts. HeÕs quite good
isnÕt he?Ó The
star-turn of this yearÕs Scottish Sea Kayak Symposium nearly didnÕt make it
to Skye. HeÕd been opening a
kayak shop in Sweden the previous day and turned up at the airport to find
the place on strike. Nigel
Foster has a gift for such timing.
A baggage handlerÕs strike in 1981 meant his solo paddle from Baffin
Island to Labrador began late.
The weather turned, so he ended up fighting major tidal streams in the
dark with frost bitten fingers and eventually had to hitch a ride on a passing
tanker. Fortunately, the
consequences were less dramatic this time. However, it still required a dash across Sweden and a
drive through the night from Manchester to Skye, where one of the organisers
found Nigel and his partner Kirsten sleeping in a lay-by at five am. ItÕs not all glamour being a
professional kayaker. I wondered
how many superstars from other sports would go to such lengths to fulfil a
paddling commitment? Can you
imagine the Beckhams kipping in their rental car? What
Colorado is to ski-ing or the red sea is to diving, so the west coast of
Scotland is a world-class destination for sea kayaking. Consequently, a symposium here has to
be worthy of its natural surroundings.
ItÕs a tribute to the organisers at Skyak Adventures that this event
always exceeds most peopleÕs expectations. In fact, first-timers discover it utterly blows their
minds. I clearly remember a huge
adrenalin rush two years ago when I first looked at the symposium programme. I felt like a child in a pick-and-mix
sweet shop, whoÕd been given a sack and told, Òhelp yourselfÓ. A group of us were chatting about
this in the bar one night and it seems IÕm not alone. ÒThatÕs exactly how I feel right
nowÓ, exclaimed Wenley Palacios, a well-known blogger whoÕd travelled here
from Spain. One of the
organisers Ken Nicol asked him, ÒSo how could we make it better?Ó Wenley thought about this for a
heartbeat. ÒDancing girls
perhaps?Ó The
question most frequently asked by non-kayaking friends is, ÒWhat do you do at
a symposiumÓ? The term
originally referred to a drinking party in ancient Greece, where men debated,
plotted, boasted or simply partied.
Some people might say very little has changed. Each day
there were twelve indoor sessions split over the morning and afternoon. For example; Jeff AllenÕs slide-show Circumnavigating
South Georgia;
Duncan Winning and Howard Jeffs on Sea Kayak Design; Nigel Dennis on Choosing a
Paddle; seminars
on Predicting Swell, Preparing for Night Paddling and Whales and Dolphins. I signed up for Mike McClureÕs Planning Open Crossings session that lasted a whole
morning and left me needing aspirin.
Mike devised this course for the Canoe Association of Northern
Ireland. ItÕs designed to be
delivered over four separate evening classes, going from basic tidal planning
to complex vectors. Instead we
were dropped in the deep-end and given just the last of the four
classes. I donÕt think anyone
fully understood what weÕd done.
My head swam with a thumping headache as we left the room but since
then IÕve done some reading and the whole thing seems a lot clearer. I thinkÉ Classrooms,
talks and slide shows are fine but feedback from previous symposia shows most
people want to go paddling. So
there were twelve practical sessions on the water each day. Some were two-part, such as Preparing
for Tidal Paddling
with Doug Cooper and Roy Henderson, where the morning was spent working out
whatÕll be happening in Kylerhea, the narrow gap between Skye and the
mainland, and the afternoon spent finding out whether they got it right or
wrong. Other practical sessions
lasted just a few hours, but were so intensive, that was usually enough. Sessions on rolling, rescues,
self-rescue, towing, close quarters manoeuvring and incident management all
gave travellers on the CalMac ferry a good laugh. If that
sounds like a lot, thereÕs more.
Those who didnÕt want to flit from session to session could disappear
on a whole day paddle in knowledgeable company. Robin Ruddock has a passion for collecting bits and pieces
washed up on coastlines. My wife
Liz joined him and Brian Wilson, the author of Blazing Paddles, for a day Beachcoming
by Kayak. They built a drift-wood fire, then
cooked and ate whelks, the freshed sea-food any of the group had eaten. Yet a
symposium is more than the sum of itÕs parts. The magic moments are those no one can plan but which just
seem to happen. You put faces to
names, often quite well known ones, which gives the chance to ask questions
in a relaxed atmosphere. A
friend with whom I paddle told me, ÒIÕd been reading Sea Kayak Navigation
last week, then this morning at breakfast, I looked up and thereÕs Franco
Ferrero holding a tray asking if he could join on our tableÓ. ItÕs these small moments of
friendship and community, which not only make this event so successful, they
create the right learning environment in which paddlers can make personal
breakthroughs. It only takes a
comment from a coach, over a coffee or on the water, and an internal light
bulb suddenly switches on. Which
makes Shaun Caven a master electrician.
Listening to him talk and watching him paddle, he cast new, bright
light on forward paddling; the stroke we use most but rarely practice. Shaun coaches the British Olympic
team. Although heÕs a Scot, this
was his first time on Skye and only his fourth time in a sea kayak. ÒI feel a bit wobbly and slowÓ, he
told us. Yeah, right. You didnÕt look it Shaun. Watching and listening to Shaun gave
me my first breakthrough moment; how to get my blade out of the water before
it travels too far past my body. ItÕs a combination of rotation and elbow-lift, something I
wonÕt attempt to explain here, but itÕs a nugget of knowledge I didnÕt know I
needed. Now I have to practice. IÕve recorded an interview with Shaun
and itÕs one IÕll try to get quickly onto SeaKayakRoutes.com because the
information he shares can make the difference between an exhausting and
enjoyable day. If SkyeÕs
natural environment gives this symposium a head start on the road to success,
then itÕs given a huge push by the staff and facilities of the Gaelic
College, Sabhal Mor Ostaig.
Classroom sessions need classrooms; slide shows need projectors and
screen; people have to eat, sleep, drink and party. All this happens in one place, which means the relaxed,
friendly and informal atmosphere extends right through the day from the
7.45am briefing to the end of the ceilidh in the wee hours of Sunday
morning. There
were times during the three-day event my head felt so full of new information
I had to go for a walk to let it settle. As I strolled down Armadale beach, it struck me I was
passing an accidental display of the history of sea kayaks. At one end, P&H exhibited their new Cetus
alongside the new In-Uit boat from Aled Williams, formerly of Rockpool. As I walked I passed Point 65 North boats on the Knoydart stand and
on Kari-tekÕs the range of Nigel Dennis kayaks. Further along the beach people had ÒparkedÓ their own
boats above the high-water line including a lovely old Nordkapp. However,
the sheer beauty of Anders ThygessenÕs Greenland kayaks overshadowed them
all. Originally from Denmark,
Anders lives in Norway and builds modern versions of traditional boats from
Greenland and Alaska out of wood and canvas. Anders doesnÕt sell the boats he
builds, preferring to run courses in Norway during which he teaches how to
build one. Drive over with a
car-load of enthusiasm, and come back with a gorgeous boat on your roof. HeÕd brought six to Skye and was
delighted for people to take them out on the water. ÒPeople are a bit nervous about using them at first,
because the kayak seems so flexible, but I tell them these arenÕt museum
pieces. Use them as youÕd use a
modern boatÓ. ThatÕs easier said
than done. With small, circular
ocean cockpits, most people worry about getting out quickly underwater. ÒItÕs surprisingÓ, said Anders, Òwhen
people have to get out in a hurry, they always manageÓ. Warm, dry
and well fed, we settled down each evening to slide shows in which guest
speakers described routes few of us will ever attempt. Patrick Winterton paddled from the
Clyde to Muckle Flugga by a determinedly indirect route. From the Corryvreckan he went to
Tiree then tackled major crossings to Mingulay and St Kilda. But he didnÕt come back the way he
went. Instead, he headed to the
Flannan Islands, the first time that crossing has been done, and then
completed whatÕs known as the ÒHebridean triangleÓ by coming back to
Lewis. Orkney and Shetland
followed. To make things a
little more challenging, Patrick decided to video the whole thing, so after a
live introduction from Patrick, we settled back to watch the first hand story
of probably the last major challenge in British waters. He plans to sell DVDs of the trip. The other
presentation was originally titled ÒPolar Bears in LabradorÓ. At the end I thought ought to have
been called ÒNigel Foster, very nearly, inside a Polar Bear!Ó In the summer of 2004, Nigel and his
partner Kristin Nelson, set out to complete the journey he
had to abandon twenty-three years earlier, and their entire trip was
punctuated by encounters with no fewer than sixteen of these furry
predators. They can run at 40
mph on land, swim at a constant 6 knots for ten hours, dive to fifteen feet
and jump seven feet out of the water.
Their sensitive nose can scent a seal at five miles; or a human. If theyÕre hungry, you are prey. There were times Nigel and Kirsten
were stalked by a bear, which would conceal itself so well they frequently
didnÕt see it until the last minute.
I simply could not understand how they slept at night. ÒWe had no choiceÓ, Nigel later told
me, and Òso we developed a fatalistic approach. If theyÕre hungry, and they want to eat you, they willÓ. This was my other breakthrough moment of the
weekend. In this one sentence, I
found a solution to a menace that threatens every summer visitor to the
Scottish Highlands, and which reminds us of our place in the food chain. Because after listening to Nigel talk
about Polar Bears, even SkyeÕs notorious midges donÕt seem so bad. If
you'd like to listen to the contributors to the Scottish Sea Kayak Symposium,
log onto SeaKayakRoutes.com where Simon Willis has recorded interview
with many of them. You can listen on the website or download the
Podcasts onto your home computer or MP3 player. If you're in doubt how
to do this, ask a teenager. |
||||||||