April Fool's Day Came Early

I'll admit it - I wimped out on writing this. Hence the Mark Knopfler song. It's taken me awhile to come back to this post. I overestimated my own ability in surf, and underestimated the size of the waves, and the difficulties they could present. I don't plan to write about the tough days but they seem to be the ones that leave me with the most to think about. ~d



I'm up, dragging my kayak to the outer edge of the reef. I've found a channel out through it and I'm loading up. By the time I'm finished loading the tide has started washing over the reef, and is coming in fast. I've moved my piles of gear three times so far and had my drybags bobbing like corks in the rapidly filling tide-pools a handful of times. My kayak tips to one side because I - not so wisely - think I can put her stern up on a rock to hold her, it turns out to be a great pivot point for a lean which fills Persephone full of water. I haven't put the sea-sock in yet... in all senses of the term... this attempt is a gong show from the start...

Here I gooooo...

I paddle out through the rapidly disappearing shelter of the channel, being swept sideways, and in and out with each surge. A lot of bumping and banging and struggling to keep from getting jammed sideways between rocks, and I'm out. A series of three foot waves crest in front of me, I ride up and over them, a bit wet, no worries. I keep paddling out, strange... it doesn't feel like I'm moving forward... a series of five foot waves come at me and I struggle through as they crest in walls, now I'm getting a serious face-washing. I'm thinking to myself... I've been paddling my butt off and I should be clear of these by now. Then the big boys start standing up in front of me, great green walls of water, their tops spilling over as they roar at me. Where's the damn shoulder??? There's supposed to be a shoulder!!! I get the full body slam, and get pinned to the back deck as I rise up on them and punch through the top, the drop out the backside is high enough to worry me. The roller-coaster starts to sickenly lean waaaaay forward before plummeting downwards, I hang on and get ready to brace. I slam down into the hole only to be picked up by the next, and the next, and the next... I've lost all forward momentum and am now being thrashed by wave after wave.

This is really bad... every wave has me flat on my back deck, every brief period between has me madly fighting a broach, and grabbing for gear that is trying to wash loose. Secure isn't as secure as I thought. Boom! I'm up a face when Persephone starts a horrifying backwards slide - surfing backwards in a baidarka with more bow than stern is a scary undertaking - and she stands up.

This is where it all goes into slow motion... my body turns as I look back... my bow goes up... I roll down the face of the wave into a broach... and I'm being tumbled... my paddle gets ripped out of my hands... roll or drown... roll or drown... roll or drown... thanks Duane... I rat claw myself to air, catch a quick breath before tumbling again... pull my spare paddle out while I'm underwater... it's surreal under here... roll up awkwardly... catch another breath before I'm tumbled again... roll up again... HEY! there's my... tumble... roll up again... I grab my lost paddle and pin it together with spare... tumble... roll up with both paddles in my hand... the front deck is rapidly being cleared... unimportant things like deck snacks, my hat... but my chart case is hanging there by a single hook... flopping around... okay daniel, stow the paddle or grab the case... stow the paddle... tumble... roll up... getting tired now and that last roll was pretty sketchy... chart case is floating six feet away... I can't reach it... I'm now in deep shit here I'm thinking... tumble... finishing this roll I have to lay right back and scull finish... I'm twisted up in the cockpit and can't get straightened out as the sea-sock has somehow wrapped me up... agghhh... wet exit... grab my rear deck bag as it floats by and clip it to a deck line... blow up my PFD... think think think... I fix the sea-sock between hammerings... the chart case floats just out of reach... re-enter and roll-up... the deck bag comes up last and drags me over again... roll up again... crap... the reef is right there now and I'm about to be washed up on it... I jump out of the cockpit so that I can swim the kayak in... a long series of bumps and bangs and thumps and tumbles as I get washed up on the rocks, shins being cracked as I try to push myself away from the rocks and stay seaward of the tumbling weight of a loaded and swamped kayak.

Mats of mussels, blankets of barnacles, slippery masses of seaweed... bump... thump... slide... grounded... repeat... poor Peresephone is taking one hell of a beating. I finally get washed far enough inshore that I can start guiding her through the reefs. I walk her swamped mass around the point, off the reef, and to the sandy beach in Makah Bay.

My bruised shins... my bruised pride... my poor beat-up kayak... barely floating with all the water in her...

Miraculously the Nylon held, the keel strip of duct tape took the worst of the scrapes, and Peresephone seems a bit worse for wear but not compromised. I'll be touching up the places where the coating was knocked off to to prevent seepage leaks, but other than that, she withstood her second trial by reef. I on the other hand, want a drink to calm my tattered nerves. Unfortunately, possibly fortunately - this is a dry town.

My gear sits in a soggy pile beside me for the better part of two hours while my heart-rate slows... my half inflated PFD bulging out from under it all... staring accusingly at me like a big bloodshot eyeball.

Not exactly a good day but probably a neccessary one...