Rope!

During Thursday's FSRT, Alec waits to catch a throw line and be towed into shore.

On Thursday, we assisted as Scott Fairty of Geneva Kayak taught Foundation Safety and Rescue Training, a prerequisite course for the BCU coaching track.
This is a fabulous course for anyone who intends to paddle a kayak or canoe on anything other than small, flat bodies of water. It covers all manner of rescues for all kinds of people and crafts as well as towing techniques. But beyond the mechanics of getting people back into dry boats, it covers incident prevention and management. If a license were required for paddling, this could be one of the key required courses to prepare you to earn one.

A neighborly full-moon paddle

For years, our neighbors have patiently put up with our yard full of kayaks and drying gear.

The way our yard typically looks.

Actually, they've more than put up with it. They've stopped by and asked us questions as we've loaded and unloaded our boats, and many expressed a desire to go out on the lake some day.

The rig, ready to roll.

Last night, we took 10 of our neighbors on a full-moon paddle. The conditions could not have been better. The air was in the lower 70s and the water in the upper 60s. The wind was calm and the sky was clear. Half way through our paddle, the moon rose above the horizon. It was magical. We were joined by fellow instructor Wendy (Bloyd-Peshkin) Madgwick, one of our partners in paddling crime.
Here are some photos from before and during that paddle:

Matt and Annie, read to go.

Joan and Gretchen, not nervous at all!

Sharon helping Stephen get in his boat and on the water.

Darcy, at ease in her boat.

As we landed, we were greeted by Lyn (Bloyd-Peshkin) Stone, who couldn't resist the opportunity to see the moon over the lake even though she wasn't available to join us for the paddle. Then we loaded our boats and returned to Geneva Kayak Center Lakefront to eat some sweets and savor the beauty of paddling on Lake Michigan at night under a full moon.

The moon after we got off the water, demonstrating the need for a tripod.

Thanks to our neighbors for sharing this evening with us, and a special thanks to Scott Fairty of Geneva Kayak for staying at work so late to make this possible!

But it sounds like "paddling"...

Bicycling and kayaking have a lot in common. They allow you to cover distance at a human-scale pace, enabling you to actually see and even engage with what you encounter on your journey from here to there. Many serious sea kayakers we know are former (or current) bicyclists. Both sports require a similar delight in repetitive motion and resilience to boredom.

Hannah en route to the Prairie Path.

A few days ago, we pedaled our bikes on the Illinois Prairie Path, a local rails-to-trails path. As you bike along this 61-mile path, you pass through small downtown business districts, past parks and gardens, over bridges and along rivers. You see kids on trikes and riders far more serious than you are on bikes. You pedal past walkers and joggers of all ages. It's a magnet for people who need a quick dose of nature and some exercise.
Along with Sharon's siblings, we've planted two trees along this path in honor of their parents on their 75th birthdays. Those are some of the best gifts we've ever given, and we suspect among the best gifts they've received.

Robert the rainmaker?

Here comes the storm! Our last day at Adventure Crafters 2009.

The day before we left Maryland, we decided to go for one last paddle with Robert. It had been a hot day, and building cumulus congestus clouds suggested a short window of opportunity. So we chose a nearby put-in with a really short carry and hurried to the water.
No sooner had we unloaded the boats, geared up and gotten on the water than we heard a loud thunderclap. Looking back, we saw towering cumulonimbus clouds moving in, and then lightning.
We immediately got off the water.
We seem to have a pattern of paddling as thunderstorms move in, particularly when we're paddling with Robert.
Hmmmm.....

Storm moving in. Adventure Crafters 2008.

The "psychological tow"

The day before we were scheduled to teach a leadership and rescues class at Adventure Crafters, during which we planned to teach towing techniques, we went for a social paddle with co-owner and instructor-in-chief Robert Schrack. We were talking about classes we've taught and tours we've led when Robert introduced us to a term we didn't realize we had been lacking: the "psychological tow."
If you're an instructor or guide, or simply a skilled paddler who has taken less experienced people out on the water, you'll immediately know what this means. Frequently, somebody becomes overwhelmed by conditions. They may be freaked out by waves or wind, or simply tired out by too much exertion, and they need some help to complete the planned journey.
You could tow them, which would be more work for you and might be humiliating for them. But in the case of bumpy water, that might make things worse. So instead, you coach them. "Keep going," you say. "Keep your hips loose. That's great. Keep paddling. Nice work. It'll be easier if you get your entire blade in the water."
You instruct them a bit, encourage them a lot, and distract them. "You know, the bar lakes along this shoreline were once small bays...." You blather on, paddling close to them and sounding relaxed, offering a mix of small talk and advice, and they manage to make it on their own.
That's the psychological tow. Having a term for it is not only satisfying, in the same way as knowing the names of birds or mushrooms. It's practical. By placing the psychological tow in the category of tows, it reminds us to try this first before a more invasive intervention.
Thanks, Robert!

Leadership and Rescues class

Practicing T-rescues in the Chester River.

On Sunday, we taught a class called Leadership and Rescues. This five-hour workshop was designed to cover the essential assisted and self rescues, including variations appropriate for specific conditions, as well as basic towing techniques. But we also wanted to help students explore each paddler’s role in avoiding an incident, and how we can prevent things from spinning out of control.
Most of the time, we try to get our classes on the water as quickly as possible. After all, students sign up for a kayaking class because they want to paddle, not because they want to stand on the shore listening to us talk about paddling. But in this case, we deliberately spent the first 45 minutes on land, going over some of the basic leadership concepts we’ve learned and the safety and communication issues of which anyone paddling in a group should be aware.
We promised our students that we’d post a synopsis of what we covered during that class—a virtual handout—so this blog entry will do double duty, sharing that material with them as well as with anyone else who’s interested in it.
We bagan with two BCU acronyms we find especially helpful: CLAP and SAFE.
CLAP stands for Communication, Line of sight, Avoidance is better than a cure, and Position of maximum effectiveness. These are considerations group leaders must address before and during and after any paddle. Communication is a huge category that includes everything from whether or not the plan and expectations are clear and agreed upon, to how the group will communicate on the water. Line of sight refers to the need to the leader to keep all members of the group in view at all times. Avoidance is better than a cure is a British way of saying that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. And Position of maximum effectiveness refers to the need for the leader to be where he or she can best control and direct the group.
SAFE stands for Stop, Assess, Formulate, Execute. This helps avoid rash reactions to situations by reminding us to size up the situation and think through our options before acting.
(We have to thank Jeff Allen for introducing these concepts to us. For more in-depth explanations, see the BCU coaching handbook.)
After that, we talked about other essential pre-trip checklist items:
- Appropriate “kit” for the conditions, which should include food and water, first-aid for yourself and your boat, spare clothing, and communication, safety and signaling equipment.
- A medical talk (and how to help others feel comfortable talking about issues that you ought to know about).
- Filing a float plan (and with whom).
On the water, we practiced the basic T-rescue and several variations, including the heel-hook and scramble reentries and the crab. We also worked on several self-rescues: traditional paddle float, cowboy (scramble), and paddle float-assisted reenter and roll.


During the towing segment, we introduced the “psychological tow,” a term Robert Schrack coined for something we do all the time without recognizing that it falls into the towing category. (More on that in the next entry.) We also worked on using tow belts with lines of various lengths, using short tows with the casualty in various positions on the rescuers boat, and contact tows.
Leadership is an enormous topic. In this class, we barely scratched the surface of it. But in the end, we came to feel that communication is the torso rotation of leadership. In other words, it’s the foundation of leadership and successful group paddling, and the earlier in our paddling careers we begin to think about it and act on it, the better.
Before launching, we have to communicate about where we plan to go, at what pace and with what group structure. We also have to communicate about what we’re bringing, how we’re feeling and what the weather and water conditions are. On the water we have to communicate about how we’ll negotiate boat traffic, changes in weather conditions, changes in the plan and surprises that arise. And afterwards, we have to communicate about how things went, what we learned and what we’d change the next time. Communication at the end of a trip helps transform experience into wisdom. It helps us consolidate what we’ve learned as individuals and as a group, making us ever better leaders and paddlers over time.

Pitch-perfect pitchpole

Setting out into the surf. It didn't look very challenging.

Surf landings are exciting and unpredictable. Yesterday, we practiced launching and landing with our friend Robert Schrack in a tricky shore break near Cape Henlopen State Park in Delaware. It wasn't a particularly rough day; in fact, once we punched through the dumping surf, the swell couldn't have been more than a few feet.

Well outside the shore break, the swell was gentle.

This is an unfamiliar phenomenon for Great Lakes paddlers like us. When we have waves, they're wind-driven and come in rapid succession. What you find at the shore is present further out. The breaking waves give way to swell as the water gets deeper, but we simply don't get massive shore break when there's nothing exciting going on a few yards out, and we aren't accustomed to waves that arrive six to ten seconds apart.
Back to yesterday. Launching was the familiar splashy affair, the only difference being salt water instead of fresh water in our faces. But landing was a challenge. The waves were in sets but hardly predictable. The first couple of times went pretty well. We paddled in behind wave crests, back paddled to let them pass us, then chased them again. The last few yards are always dicey, but we mostly landed without broaching, popped our skirts and ran for it.
Then came the final landing before lunch. I (Sharon) watched the sets, timed it as well as I could and headed in. I chased a wave, back paddled while the next crest passed, chased another and so on.
Finally, I caught what I thought was going to be the wave that would propel me all the way in. But I was wrong. As I neared the shore, another wave arrived just behind the one I had put my trust in. I felt my stern rise and rise until I was vertical and several feet in the air. A perfect pitchpole.
Problem was, the water was shallow and landing on my head (or back, assuming a successful tuck), would be painful or worse. Instinctively, I twisted sideways as I fell and landed in what must have been a few inches of water. I immediately knew I was fine.

What I remember.

As I stood onshore, a surfer who had watched my landing came over to congratulate me. "Wow, I've surfed all over and I've never seen anything like that," he exclaimed, giving me a high-five. "That was impressive! You must have been up 12 feet!"
It was an amazing experience. I was surprised by the amount of time I had between my realization that I was vertical and my return to horizontality. It was enough time to consider the dangers, decide what to do and act on it.
Unfortunately, I was carrying the camera, so we don't have a photo of my in-air pirouette and I'm not planning to do it again. So for now, this description will have to suffice.

Those aren't white sand beaches

A couple of weeks ago, we spent some time camping at Newport State Park on the Door County Peninsula. Our hike-in site was also a paddle-in site, so we were able to take a variety of day paddles from our campsite.
One day, we did the 25-mile round-trip to Washington Island, with stops at the Northport ferry landing and the former Coast Guard station on Plum Island. As we rounded the tip of Door County, we saw piles of what appeared to be white sand along the shore. Upon closer inspection, we realized they were mounds of zebra mussel shells. This Great Lakes invader has made the water clearer, but with an unfortunate side effect: More sunlight now penetrates deeper into the lake, encouraging the growth of cladophora algae, which washes into shallow areas and smells disgusting.

Cladophora algae on a Door County beach.

It was a sad aspect of an otherwise delightul discovery: Despite its popularity as a tourist destination, Door County still boasts some beautiful, sparsely visited natural areas. You can catch the sunrise from one side of the peninsula and the sunset from the other. You can paddle all day and see very few boats. You can pop into town for a latte, or retreat to your campsite and feel like you're far away from civilization.

Cooking breakfast at our campsite.

Dining alfresco. Two forks up!

Bear with us....literally

We just left the Adirondacks in upstate New York, where we camped on a small island in Lower Saranac Lake and spent the days paddling and hiking. At night, we hung our food from trees--standard practice for avoiding messy visits from bears, racoons and other local residents.
During one visit to a paddling outfitter in the town of Saranac Lake, we learned about the bear-proof containers that are popular among backcountry campers in this area. Then we read this in today's New York Times.
Too bad Yellow-Yellow wasn't around when we couldn't pry open one of our front hatch covers....

Washing dishes on Hocum Island, where we were camping.

Reentering the blogosphere

Our failure to post anything for the past few months doesn't reflect inactivity. Quite to the contrary, we've been teaching and training on the water, and reflecting and planning off the water. We just haven't been writing about it.
The season has just begun, and in addition to our personal paddling and a few local classes we've taught, we've been involved in:

• The West Michigan Coastal Kayakers Symposium, including a coach training with Jeff Allen, co-owner of Sea Kayak Cornwall. If you want to read about it, check out Keith Wikle's wonderful blog, Go Kayak Now.
• BCU Coach 1 training and assessment. Four days of intensive training and scrutiny with BCUNA administrator Bill Lozano (owner of Atlantic Kayak Tours), midwest RCO Kelly Blades, and Geneva Kayak's own Scott Fairty. Yeah, we passed. (wOOt!)
  
• The Windy City Kayak Symposium, now in its third year, which featured Peter Jones from North Wales, Ben Lowry, Steve and Cindy Scherer, and a host of talented local coaches.
• The inaugural Burnham to Marquette Sea Kayak Expedition, sponsored by the Northwest Indiana Paddling Association. Tom Bamonte provided a nice write-up on the CASKA blog.
• The biannual Inland Sea Kayak Symposium, based in Washburn, Wisconsin near the Apostle Islands. This year's featured guest was Nigel Dennis.

We hope to reflect on some of those events in upcoming posts, but at the moment we're feeling like lazy letter-writers who have delayed corresponding to the point of embarrassment. So instead, we'll reenter the blogophere in the present tense in the coming days and weeks. Thanks for your patience!

Can you canoe, part two

There's nothing like getting together with a group of talented coaches and working on skills none of you yet possesses. Last Friday, Scott Fairty took Paul Redzimski, Wendy Madgwick, Bonnie Perry, Lyn Stone, John Martin and the two of us out on the water for a Canoe Two Star assessment and an update of our old BCU Canoe Safety to the new Foundations of Safety and Rescue. That sounds heady and intimidating, and it might have been if not for Scott's laid-back style and the enthusiasm of the group.
It certainly helped that all of us are experienced paddlers with a general level of comfort on the water in any type of boat. So what if we didn't yet know our J stroke from our C stroke? We picked them up fairly quickly.
Everybody's learning style was readily apparent. The verbal processors talked through everything prior to trying anything; the kinesthetic learners dove right in--sometimes quite literally. And Scott was the ringmaster, calling out the acts and letting us go at it.

Cross-bow stroke.

Emptying out a canoe.

Or main motivation for the assessment and update was our upcoming BCU Coach One assessment, for which these are prerequisites. What surprised us, however, was how much fun we had learning and demonstrating our new-found skills.
Then again, it's nearly always good to be on (or in) the water.
Click here for the full slide show.

Signs of Spring: Part 1

Everything's coming up kayaks.

After a winter of paddling mostly indoors, it's exciting to get out on the lake and rivers again. We've paddled on Lake Michigan several times already this year. The water is still cold (about 44 degrees), but if you dress appropriately, it's not unsafe. In fact, it's warm enough now that even Sharon is willing to roll and practice rescues. (She draws the line at about 42 degrees.) That's a sure sign of spring. And there are plenty of benefits to paddling on cold water: there's almost no boat traffic on the lake, the water in the harbors is still pretty clean, and the rivers tend to have nice currents and features.

Jeremy surfing a small wave on the "Mighty" DuPage.

This variety of padding is great for skill development. Here in the midwest, where we have no tides, river paddling allows us to experience currents and even small versions of tidal races. We can't eddy out from behind headlands on Lake Michigan, but we can practice that maneuver on rivers. The only ferrying we can do on Lake Michigan is in response to the wind, but we can practice ferrying to compensate for current on the rivers.
We thought about this last benefit on Friday, when we paddled into gusts of 25 to 30 miles per hour on the lake. The wind was out of the south and we were attempting to paddle southwest. If we headed slightly east, we ferried east; if we headed slightly west, we ferried west. The feeling was familiar because we had spent time ferrying on river currents.
There are many reasons to train in multiple paddlesports. That's why the British Canoe Union (BCU) requires coaches to be proficient in more than one discipline. Individual skills may not translate exactly from one paddlesport to another, but the combined knowledge base definitely augments your overall skill, comfort and enjoyment of paddling.

It's good to be back on open water.

Tristate paddle

Most of the time, we hear about exciting paddling opportunities after they're publicized. We aren't involved in the nitty gritty of organizing them; we're content to participate.
Not so the upcoming Burnham to Marquette Sea Kayak Expedition. We've been privileged to help plan this event, sponsored by the Northwest Indiana Paddling Association and spearheaded by its president, Dan Plath.
There are a lot of pieces to this puzzle, and Dan has managed to bring together a huge consortium of organizations in support of it. He's also reached out to paddlers in Indiana and Illinois to map out the route and strategize about how to enable a group to safely paddle it.
One of the challenges is finding appropriate put-ins and take-outs along a 50-mile stretch of Lake Michigan's shoreline. Yesterday, Dan and his fellow Hoosier, Steve Barker, met us, Lyn Stone (of CASKA) , Gary Mechanic (also of CASKA and the Illinois Paddling Council) and Keith Wikle of the West Michigan Coastal Kayakers Association, to explore possible put-ins.

Gary Mechanic, Dan Plath, Sharon Bloyd-Peshkin and Steve Barker, pondering the long carry at 31st Street.

We began at 31st Street, a beautiful beach with two major drawbacks: a long carry and limestone blocks offshore to break incoming waves. It isn't the ideal spot for a large group of paddlers to launch, particularly if some of them aren't experienced.
Next we moved to Burnham Harbor. The marina on the west side of the harbor has launch ramps that would be perfect for our purposes, provided we can obtain access to them and the nearby parking. Of the two sites, this was our preference.

Alec Bloyd-Peshkin points out the easy access at the Burnham Harbor Marina.

All this scouting worked up our appetite for paddling, so we unloaded our boats and got on the water.

Dan Plath and Steve Barker carry a boat down to the water.

It was a beautiful day. Keith dove right in.

Never mind the 40-degree water. Keith Wikle jumped in and scrambled into his boat. Lyn documented the event.

We paddled out the harbor and into what had been predicted to be 2- to 4-foot waves but turned out to be 1- to 2-footers at most. Still, we were aware of the added risk of the cold water and kept a watchful eye on each other.
Stay tuned for updates on this event. The weather and the water will be warmer. Not only will this be an opportunity to enjoy a long paddle in good company; it should also be a chance to learn about and advocate for a blueway and greenway from the tip of Chicago to the east side of Indiana. And who knows--perhaps it will be the start of a water trail clear around Lake Michigan.

Close encounters of the encouraging kind

When you kayak on Lake Michigan, the rules of the road don't count for much. The law of tonnage trumps all. Big boats have the right of way, and little boats stay out of the way.
And yet, we have our friends. The other day, we were paddling near Burnham Harbor, scouting launch sites for the upcoming Burnham to Marquette Sea Kayak Expedition and enjoying pretty much having the lake to ourselves, when we noticed a large white powerboat slowly heading right for us. Soon we realized it was a Chicago Police Department boat, and its captain wanted to talk to us. So we paddled toward it.
If you haven't yet had the pleasure of talking with any of the police officers in the CPD Marine and Helicopter Unit, you might not know that these guys are among the friendliest, most helpful cops in the city. They tend to be long-time mariners with a healthy love and respect for Lake Michigan and a serious dedication to keeping people safe on the water.
The captain, Roger, immediately recognized that we were capable of taking care of ourselves, so we chatted awhile. "I have to confess, 10 years ago I thought you kayakers were crazy going out here in those little boats," he said. "But now I'm thinking about buying one and joining you." So we gave him some local paddling resources, told him we'd be happy to kayak with him, and went our separate ways.
We've had several similarly positive enounters over the years with the police and Coast Guard. These guys see plenty of drunk powerboaters and oblivious jet skiers. We think they're relieved when they see knowledgable sailors and kayakers who clearly know what they're doing and how to keep from getting in trouble. That's a reputation we want to make sure that our paddling community upholds.
Consider, for a moment, the trouble that one novice kayaker caused the entire community when he went over a dam on the Fox River. That incident led to pending legislation to create 350-foot "exclusion zones" upstream and downstream of dams, eliminating portages and effectively making those rivers unpaddlable. (For more information, visit the Illinois Paddling Council.)
We have access issues on the lake, too. There is a limited number of put-in and take-out sites on the Chicago shoreline between Memorial Day and Labor Day. There can be heavy boat traffic on the lake and on the Chicago River on warm summer days. Because we are small and human-powered, we rely on good relationships with the authorities when we want to go through the lock between the lake and the river or organize an event like the upcoming Burnham to Marquette expedition.
We need to cultivate and maintain these relationships by being responsible and responsive. That's why we value encounters like the one with Roger and look forward to seeing him in a much smaller boat some day.

Now we understand

It must be for paddling.

Indulging our inner salmon

Here's something we have in common with salmon: We've been in all kinds of wonderful water, but every year we return to the tiny little pool where our love for paddling hatched.
OK, we stretched that metaphor to death. But how else can you explain our affection for the dinky little pool where the Chicago Whitewater Association (CWA) teaches 10-week classes every winter and spring?
We began as students about seven years ago. That's where we learned to roll and to control our boats. We gradually became assistants, helping set up gates and move gear. Now we're able to teach rolling and strokes to a new cohort of kayak enthusiasts and help on the club's teaching trips every spring on the DuPage, Vermillion and Wolf Rivers.
Last night was the final spring pool class in Oak Park--the night of the slalom, in which students are challenged to run through a series of gates, sometimes forward and sometimes backwards, as a test of their new-found paddling skills.

John Karch explains the slalom rules: Run all the gates once--some forwards, some backwards-- and do a roll or a 360-degree spin at the end before repeating the course once more. Each time you hit a gate, five seconds are added to your time.

People get very nervous, but they're also very supportive of one another. There's a lot of cheering when someone clears a gate, and groaning when they tap one with their boat or paddle.

Bret manages to clear a gate, using his kayak limbo skills.

After the instructors run the course, we take down the gates, haul out the boats and go out for pizza. We'll see one another again in a few weeks, when we embark on the first of the river trips.

Mike gives the slalom race two thumbs up. Next stop: actual moving water!

First signs of spring

A cluster of canoe paddles beckons wandering canoeists and wayward kayakers.

Forget groundhogs and crocuses. The first sign of spring for midwestern paddlers is Canoecopia, the annual paddlesports expo sponsored by Madison-based Rutabaga.
Canoecopia is more than a trade show. Sure, it features the expected vendor booths where visitors can try out and try on the latest and greatest gear, from boats and paddles to PFDs, watches, dry bags, wet suits, shoes, camping gear, cooking gear, safety gear and more. They can also browse a comprehensive selection of books and DVDs, and get information from outfitters and resorts, clubs and organizations, camps and magazines. In other words, anyone looking for anything related to paddlesports would find it here.

Dr. Danny Mongno, paddle authority extraordinaire, at the Werner Paddle booth.

But there's more to Canoecopia than that. Every hour, there are at least six simultaneous sessions where visitors can learn about paddling expeditions and destinations, get tips about nature photography and backwoods camping, and hear some of the top instructors explain their techniques.

Ben Lowry demonstrates rolling on dry land prior to a session in the pool.

But honestly, there's more to it than that, too. For us, Canoecopia is also a chance to connect. We spend part of our time in the hallway, where numerous clubs have tables, talking to passers-by about what our clubs are offering. This year, we were ostensibly representing CASKA (the Chicago Area Sea Kayakers Association) but also promoting the new NWIPA (Northwest Indiana Paddling Association), and encouraging attendance at the upcoming Paddlesports Festival in Aurora, the Chicago Shoreline Marathon, the new Burnham to Marquette Sea Kayak Expedition, and more.

At the CASKA booth, Sharon extolls the opportunities to paddle in the Chicago area.

Tom Lindblade, president of the Illinois Paddling Council, encourages people to lobby against proposed legislation that would restrict access to Illinois waterways.

In addition to reconnecting with old friends -- Danny Mongno of Werner Paddles, Kelly Blades of P&H Kayaks, Derrick Mayoleth of Kayak Quixotica, Damon and Sarah Smith of Riverside Kayak Connection and more -- we're always excited to meet new ones. This year, we had the privilege of seeing the premiere of Bryan Smith's new film, Eastern Horizons, and meeting him and his wife, Lise-Anne (who are four months away from bringing a new paddler into the world).

A dry moment caught on camera.

Ultimately, for us paddling is much more than a water-based sport. It's a community, and we thank Rutabaga for helping us reconnect every spring.

You can teach an old kayaker new tricks

Sharon completes a low brace recovery.

This is week three of the solo canoe class. It's strange and wonderful to be a student again. We experience every lesson on two levels: as students learning new skills, and as instructors fascinated by how other instructors teach.
Our paddling skills do and don't translate. Many of the strokes are familiar but different. Our draw strokes are almost identical, but the canoe pry has no counterpart in the kayak repertoire. The low brace is pretty similar, but the canoe high brace is an act of faith compared to the high brace recovery stroke we do in a kayak (the end of a roll).
Open boats sink much more quickly than kayaks containing flotation or bulkheads. And yet the strategies for assisted rescues are quite similar. The canoe folks just discovered the fabulous heel-hook reentry that sea kayakers began using a couple of years ago.
Stick around in any paddle sport and you'll witness techniques evolve. As we learned the high brace, IT (Instructor Trainer) Tom Lindblade noted that the ACA (American Canoe Association) has recently begun recommending a pry stroke instead.
We're enjoying watching another discipline's instructors adopt and teach techniques that change over time.

Alec attempts to roll a canoe.