Spa Time

Several weeks ago, to celebrate my Mother's 90th birthday, the family reserved a townhouse at a well known spa in Stowe, Vermont. Little did I realise then how fortunate the timing would be! It was the perfect place to be this past weekend when all around us life seemed to be gloom and doom. The swims, the massages, the meals, the everything worked together to produce a wonderful calming effect in all of us. It will help us get through the days ahead.
During our stay, I recalled one massage I'd had a few years ago when Maligiaq paddled in the La Traversee kayak race from Forestville to Ste Luce, crossing the St Lawrence River. He was one sore boy when he finished and the sports therapy people at the finish line were fabulous. I didn't paddle in the race, but enjoyed some of the benefits! I don't think Maligiaq would have been able to sleep that night had he not had a massage to relax his aching muscles.
I had a long conversation with the masseur about kayaking and the benefits of regularly having a massage to relax our muscles, especially after a strenuous day on the water. There's nothing like it. We should all train ourselves to give massages when on kayaking trips. Not only would it help to relax our muscles, but would build partnerships and togetherness in the wilderness. I'm sure there are some of you out there who know of which I speak!

The Ying and Yang of it all...

The first paddle of the year on my favourite lake. What could be better than that? Almost nothing. The crispy cold water, the sparkling sun, the clear blue sky. It was a day of everything right. I was home again on the water.

But it wasn't to be a day of joy. There seems always to be a ying with a yang.

As I found light and happiness another found darkness. The son of close friends, a boy the same age as my son, ended his life. Why would he do such a thing? You never really know what moves in the heart of a person so distressed as to wish the end. There was no warning, no obvious reason, nothing but horror. So on coming home euphoric I am plunged into a world of grief and unanswerable questions. Why is life like this? What does it mean? How do we move on from here?

For me, at least, it is a time to try to heal the open wounds in my life. To look for those hurts and insults I have somehow caused in the lives of my friends and loved ones. To send out healing messages and for me to hope that my words cast some light that shines into the lives of those who I've given pain. Perhaps that will let them paddle in calmer seas and find the joy I felt during my first paddle of the year on home waters. What else can I possibly do?

YES!!

After reading Derrick's blog a few days ago, I got the idea that I too needed to 'take a walk' in the woods! So I did, together with a friend and our dog, and guess what I found? A lake with almost no ice in it! I paddle today, finally! And what a day it is: nearly 20°C sunny, just enough breeze to make it interesting and some ice here and there so I can have some Lopez Arctic Dreams! Like it's summer already. I'll be swimming next! Well, maybe I'll wait just a bit for the swim... I wouldn't want to damage any appendages!

What's Wrong Here?

I see at least two nasty things here. First, of course, is the presence of that ridiculous barrier, pretending to block honest paddlers from getting to the water, a public resource. Around here access to the water is becoming more and more the right of the rich and the rest of the world be damned. Paddle in the rain puddles and "Eat cake!" is the message to the 'hoi paloi'.

The other problem is that white skim on the water: ICE! While there is a margin of water to paddle in next to the shore, it is a trap for the unwary. The wind shifts the ice around and can quite suddenly push it against the shore line forcing a paddler either onto the land (not too bad) or, if the shore is steep, then the paddler has to scramble onto the ice itself for safety. This almost always results in the paddler going into the water, as the ice is too weak to support one's weight, and as this is going on, one's boat is usually churned up in the tumbling ice being crushed against the shore. All in all, not a happy picture.

The answer to both problems is to remove them. Out with the barrier, free the access points, and out with the ice, free the water. Where's 'global warming' when it's needed!

Actually the ice formed three weeks late this year and if it break up this week, will do so about ten days earlier than normal. We barely had a winter this year, so I'm using Google Earth to examine the south coast of Baffin for possible real estate bonanzas. I want a site house site on a quiet bay with a sandy beach before the prices go through the roof!

¡Toca, Gitano!

I'm tired. Tired of waiting for Spring, tired of waiting for the ice to go, tired to get moving again. I want to dance like Sara Baras. I want to stamp my heels in the surf and push my kayak out into the water and never come back. Sara dances with passion, with fire and ice. I want to live like she dances. Come on Spring!

And once I'm on the water, I want to sing like Montse Cortés, like she sings on Jesse Cook's album 'Nomad' and her own albums. As she sings, my paddle goes into the water, I feel her rhythm, my paddle settles into it and the kayak moves over the water, into the mist of adventure. Montse's earthy voice mingles with the wilderness, dark and brooding, mysterious.
Do you ever drink cava? If you live in Barcelona you do, in the little tavernas on the back streets. And listen to the gitanos as they play and sing and dance. I'm sure there is a link somewhere to paddling in the wilderness and listening to gypsy music, drinking cava. There has to be. Come Spring. I want to leave. Un otra cava, por favor...

No Ribs Today

Another wet, snowy cold day in Paradise. I suppose a real Inuk would be out there putting the ribs in his qajaq so he could feed the extended family, but 'kadlunavunga!' So I'm not working on my boat, I'm inside playing my flamenco guitar.

It's an 'Alhambra' like the one in the picture. Not a custom made guitar like the heros play, but a good one nonetheless, with a sweet cypress smell. The day I bought it, I played about 20 flamenco guitars in the store, everything from total junk to the gloriously sublime, guitars which floated under your arm, sending sensuous pulses directly into your heart as you played them. Almost better than... well, a similar thrill at least, one shared between you and a loved one. If you play a finely crafted, sensitive instrument, you'd know the experience.

I begin playing some exercises from 'Pumping Nylon' by Ken Tennant to loosen up my fingers. Then it's on to trying to learn some pieces by Moraito, who is my favourite guitarrista. I like his style of playing. He comes from Jerez, and is more traditional than guys like Paco de Lucia and his followers and very rhythmic.

Like paddling, it allows one to drift away from one's tangled life and float among the gods for a while. Coming back to Reality Beach is always a smooth landing with little dumping surf to roll you around.

Ya had to be there, ok?

A 'vrai Québeçois' takes his three cats, Un, Deux and Trois, out for a walk on the Spring ice the other day. When he returns an hour later without the cats, his 'blonde' is shocked and asks him, "Les chats, la, sont ou?" He shakes his head sadly, "Un, Deux Trois cats sank...".

Ok, it helps to be a bit bilingual for that one.

Here's one more important note:

Did you know that had you been up at 2 minutes, 3 seconds past 1 o'clock this morning, the exact time could have been written as: 01:02:03 04/05/06. This wonderful revelation will never be repeated, and like you, I too missed it by foolishly sleep it away.

Such are the finer things in life, I suppose.

A Rolling Experience from my Younger Days

Learning to Roll... your Bike!

Now the warm weather is back in the Great White North, we're all waiting for the lakes to soften up a bit so we can paddle in them rather than ski on them. In the meantime, with the snow pushed off to the sides of the roads, more or less, it's time to get our bikes out and enjoy the Spring frost heaves. It's a bit like playing in the tide rips in your kayak, but lots more dangerous (fun?).

When I was younger, my bike of choice was a red one like this, a Laverda 750 SF single seat café racer. Fast, nimble and taughtly sprung, it was a real devil on the frost heaves. In fact, it was on this bike that I first got a hint that one could roll a transportation device. Motoring into an 'S' curve outside a New England village one cold, wet day, I hit a series of heaves and realised I was going down, err.. I mean, about to roll.

I realise today that I instinctively set up for a classic Standard Greenland roll! I bent forward and threw myself towards my 'on side' as the bike went over. The bike being so firmly sprung, it hit the next wave and bounced upwards as I hit the surface, allowing me to pass underneath, half completing the roll. Arching my upper torso, and raising my downside knee, I began making the usual move around to the rear deck, I mean, the rear wheel, hoping naturally to be able to sit up and ride off as I came up. The bike had other ideas, however and I was forced to do a wet exit and push off smartly after which I slithered over a couple of more frost heaves and got tossed into the backwash in the ditch. The bike came to a stop a bit further down the beach, I mean road.

Other than a blown tire, the bike was still rideable, so I paddled, I mean rode it slowly into town not much worse for wear and repaired the tire. Like any smart paddler, I was wearing a good leather dry suit that day so didn't suffer from any unsightly road rash, which is lots worse than cold water against the skin!

Tangled Messes

Every now and then most of us get into a mess and wonder how we got there, why we stayed there and how are we going to extricate ourselves with as little damage to ourselves as possible. Sound familiar? Sure it does. When messes happen, life turns into a mangrove swamp a bit like the one above. Definitely no place to be even though in the beginning it seemed great! Now even the water's murky and not very inviting!

But, kayaker's do have an option not available to others. We can get into our boats, and actually paddle away from our tangled lives, leaving the messes behind. Lots and lots of people do it! Some have to paddle a bit farther than others, they have made bigger messes, but in the end, nearly all of us can find a way ahead that's a bit more open, where the water's a bit more clear. With a better perspective on things, we can often come to our senses and fix the messes we've helped create. And all because kayaking offers us a special gift. It gives us time to reflect and think in a natural setting.

As a followup to this, in an article in yesterday's Globe and Mail, five Inuit students and their instructor are pictured with their traditional style qajait in Chesterfield Inlet this past summer. They're actually helping themselves solve another mess. Instead of wondering where life will be leading them (if anywhere), they've begun to see how they might re-connect their past with their future using qajait as the medium. Good for them!

Bernie Howgate in the Rain

After warm sunny days 'silasiaq marialu', perfect for 'qajaliotunni silami' it rained yesterday 'qauput' and I was forced indoors 'iluani' to do other things. I began reading Bernie Howgate's book "Lazy Days of Summer" wherein he relates his amazing paddling trip from Toronto, Ontario to his home in Goose Bay, Labrador 1000's of miles away. What an interesting character!

A perfect read for a rainy afternoon if you don't mind the fact that his grammar is as wild as the country he paddles through and the spelling errors are as frequent as his tumbling beach landings. You just have to Google for a copy of this book yourself. None of his productions are available in stores, but they can be had through an address in Sept Iles. See his site for details .

Thanks, Bernie, for letting me borrow one of your trip photos without asking!

Would you like ice with that paddle?

Seems like every paddler on the planet has heard about this summer's Rocky Roundabout - the ladies will circle the Rock, as Newfoundland is sometimes called, or at least Wendy Killoran will. No doubt she will be having some ice in the water she paddles!

Freya Hoffmeister, seen here in the Floridian surf will be tackling leg one, Newfoundland's south coast. Let's hope her 'all in black' outfits show up in the fog!

Wendy, paddling here on the St Lawrence last spring, will go for the whole distance. I wish them both a safe, fun-filled trip full of fabulous memories of their adventures. If you're in Newfoundland, then get out and paddle with the ladies! They're great fun and super kayakers! And if you live in Newfoundland, then I'm sure they'd love a warm shower and a meal!

Installing newly shortened ribs!

In the photo below, you can see the value of owning a vast number of clamps! No kayak builder should be without lots of clamps. Beg borrow or steal as many as you can. You simply can't have enough. You never will. Never...

I tried shortening the ribs while they were still attached to the keel strip and chines, but it was too difficult to align them and have the hull depth values where I wanted them. Instead I separated them and am putting them in one by one as is usually done when building. The difference here is I'm using some templates taken off a boat I know is easy to roll - a serious 'cheater' - to help me get the hull depth values throughout the boat's length correct. When I'm all done, hopefully I'll be able to get in! It looks tight at the moment. Maybe too tight. Skin boat tight!

Tranformation trauma!

As you can see above, I've removed the cockpit coaming and started to slice into the seam along the front deck using a utility knife. Oh, the pain! But the gain should be worth it once this tranformation to a 'cheater' hull is complete.

The skin is nearly off in this picture, only clinging by a few spots where the paint adhered to the frame. Built in 2003, I was glad to see no signs of deterioration either in the canvas cover or the wood frame. Once the skin was removed, I cut all the ribs where they joined the gunnels and loosened the keel from the bow and stern plates. I then removed the ribs, chines and keel as a unit. The next step will be to install temporary templates so that the new interior volume will give the boat it's 'cheater' shape. Then I'll re-size and bed each rib and renew the canvas, paint and paddle away, rolling as I go!

Smoke on the Water

Yesterday I went down to North Hatley to see how the ice was doing in its annual melting process. I do this now and then each Spring. I have learnt to focus some mental forces on the ice, forcing it to melt. I found out how to do this while watching Yoda in some of the Star Wars flicks... Do you remember how he showed Luc how to get that rocket ship out of the muck? That scene is critical... Anyway the ice was beginning to look dark and thin. My powers were obviously working! The Force was powerful.

Then I noticed smoke drifting over the water! I was over-doing it. No, wait, it wasn't me! It was the ancient 5 star hotel, Auberge Hatley, burning. Now that was unbelieveable. A century old hotel was rapidly being turned into flame, smoke and ash. It was horrible to see. So many of my kayaking (yes, there is a kayaking link here) photos have that hotel in the background. There will definitely be a hole in those photos from now on. A sad day in this little resort town...

Hopefully no one noticed me using the Force. I'd hate to get locked up for starting a fire, although most prisons probably have rolling pools these days so I could work on perfecting my Greenland rolls while incarcerated. Prisons have come so far in the past century or so. Hey, and there's always Photoshop for putting the hotel back into the photos...

Whitey's Getting a Refit!

I've finally decided how to get me a 'cheater' rolling kayak without flooding the basement! I'm going to re-fit my white SOF boat. I'll remove the skin, the stringers and the ribs and cut them all down to reduce the volume. Then once that's finished, I'll re-assemble, re-skin, paint and launch. This boat was a wicked weathercocker so hopefully I can do something about that as well, perhaps putting in a skeg keel like Petersen does in his boats. Even if this fails to improve the boat's handing in a straight line, I'll end up with a good boat to practice my growing number of Greenland rolls. And I should have it all done in a couple of weeks! Just in time for open water paddling, which looks like it may come early this year. I'm becoming a supporter of global warming, at least locally this year! It will mean having to go to the lake to practice instead of simply heading downstairs, but I'm willing to make sacrifices if I have too...

Brrr's been kayaking again!

Those of you who know 'Brrr' will recognize his kayak and his favourite kayaking put-in. Actually this photo is more likely his take-out site somewhere down the St Lawrence river from his usual Montreal venue. Looking at the picture makes me wonder why I thought I had to go to Florida for some winter kayaking fun! Don't you just love the ice coated grab handle at the bow? It's so... ah... seasonal! You rock Brrr!

Oh Dear, Where to Begin...

I've never built anything as large as a kayak in my basement (aka trash heap) before. The previous boats were built either in our barn or my workshop in another building. This place looks cramped, untidy, unready... Do I clean up first or just dive in? Why clean up, I'm only going to be making a new mess... Maybe I'll go and get the wood first... Mmmmm those boards will likely be too long to fit in here... What if the kayak is too big to take out? Could I get away with flooding the basement and having my own, personal rolling pool, with built in floating obstacles mimicking Greenland ice floes? That would be cool! After all, this kayak is to be really for rolling practice. It's isn't for tripping or anything... Still, a permanently flooded basement could raise other issues...
Maybe I'd be better off thinking this through a bit more...

The Snowy Hills of Home

The drive through Ontario and even past Montreal was nearly devoid of snow, an indication of the strange winter here in eastern Canada. By Granby, snow finally appeared on the ground (rather than the odd frozen pond) and Orford mountain looked like it usually does at this time of year - covered with snow and rime frost.
My trip is over. It reached and surpassed all expectations. I met many of the paddling legends I've only heard and read about and became friends with many of them. I found interesting paddling partners everywhere I paddled, and seldom ended up paddling alone. I discovered a wonderful paddling environment which seems nearly endless. I will return!
My next project will be to build a Greenland rolling kayak - finally a 'cheater' boat of my own! Stayed turned...

Fire in the Mountains, Spills on the Road!

Just as I was coming to the Tennessee - Kentucky border, I noticed smoke in the mountains. The Smokies really were smoking! I'm not sure what caused the fires, but there were several hot spots all along the ridge on the left side of the car. Smoke had filled the valley for some distance before I could actually see where it was coming from.

Once in Canada, the 401 lived up to its evil reputation once again. This time I was held up for nearly 4 hours by this truck which had run partly off the road and spilled its load everywhere. To make matters worse, this delay put me in Toronto in the middle of rush hour - not a pretty sight! I think I could have paddled home faster today!

Please, Don't Make Me Go Back...

Ugh! It's over. I'm really on my way home. Back to snow and the cold and frozen lakes. Please don't make me do this....

Oh well, at least today was a great drive through the North Carolina and Tennessee mountains, past the Olympic Kayaking Center on the Ocoee River and the Nantahala kayaker center. Truely spectacular area if you're into white water paddling.

Even the I-75 is a better road than the I-84 on the way down, less wind and fewer trucks. Tomorrow it's the 401, Toronto and that much closer to home.

I recommend everyone paddle in Florida at least once a year for a month or more! I've had a great time.