Now that we are upgrading to fibre-glass kayaks (2 weeks from today for me!), we have been deliberating over what to do with our Capella RMs. This is no easy decision. I am well aware of the potential for them to work their way down to assuming a place in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, or at last its Atlantic equivalent (which must surely be in the process of forming). So – is it better to keep them and have them take up space in our garage, to be taken out on the odd occasion when we have kayaking visitors, or when we decide to do a spot of rockhopping? Or is it better to sell them on so that someone else can benefit and get started in the world of sea kayaking, just like we did (oh, and we get a little return from the sale)? Both options will probably eventually lead to the garbage patch regardless, but hopefully not for some time. And maybe by then, nature will have evolved a way to break down polymers.

Farewell old friend

I think we’ve decided that one Capella must definitely go, so we’ve been jumping in and out of each other’s kayaks in order to determine which one. Alan can fit (albeit snugly) into my RM 160. I can fit into his RM 166 – but so could another me. In Gordon Brown’s excellent book, Sea Kayak, there is a photo of an example of an ill-fitting kayak. In the RM 166, I am that photo. The cockpit rim encircles my rib cage and there’s enough freeboard to ensure that my spraydeck need never get wet. Not exactly a perfect fit then. It therefore looks like we will divest ourselves of the 166.

And so we will keep my trusty RM 160 for now. It will serve as a “back-up” should either of our Nordkapps ever need repaired (heaven forfend!), or should we have a visitor who would like to go paddling with us.

It will be a sad farewell actually, as it has served Alan well. From our first “tippy” outing on Loch Eck to the high seas of Lewis and Islay, the Capellas have never let us down (although we have no doubt let them down on occasion). I hope the 160 doesn’t pine after its old stablemate … but at least it will have 2 new thoroughbreds to keep it company.

We’ve been frequenting lochs recently. We were in Loch Lomond last weekend, in Kilbirnie Loch on Thursday night and Loch Eck yesterday. The predominant theme has been getting wet self rescues. We even did a bit of eskimo rescuing yesterday – the first time in our sea kayaks. Eskimo rolling was attempted, but it served to convince me that my work awaits me at the pool first of all. Still, it was worth the ice-cream headache to build on a feeling for what it’s like to roll a sea kayak. The good news is that I don’t think I’m any worse at it than rolling a pool boat. My hip flick still goes on an occasional leave of absence. To me, it’s a bit like a missing limb, I can feel it’s there, even when it’s quite evidently not. Still, what I lack in skill, I make up for in bloody-minded obsessiveness tenacity.

I’ve been reading several online discussions on the Nordkapp LV and it’s very interesting to learn the varying opinions on suitability. Comments about its “instability” abound. I read of one person who gave up their Nordkapp LV in favour of a UKSK Explorer as they were tired of “having to think” about the kayak when on the water. In contrast, another person stated that they were selling their Explorer in favour of their Nordkapp LV because the Explorer was “too boring” in comparison. Someone else mooted that the “instability” issue is overblown and that, where there is any perceived primary “instability”, it is in order to afford greater secondary stability and impressive maneoeuverability, particularly in rough conditions when it is “rock solid”. Then there is the issue of fit. Views have been expressed in various forums that the Nordkapp LV is still too big for a smaller, lighter paddler. But I found when testing it that everything sat where it should, and that the kayak felt comfortable and nippy (unlike others I tested which felt cumbersome and bulky). There may be some nuances that fall short of absolute textbook perfection, but that leads me to question – what is the perfect fit for a smaller, lightweight paddler? A totie wee Avocet LV? That’s a bit like having to shop in the kids’ clothing section. And even early thoughts on the Rockpool Isel suggest that it might only be suitable for very short camping trips. Not that I’m planning to circumnavigate Iceland or anything (not quite yet), but 2 or 3 nights would be good.

Yet another poster chipped in to a US forum with a comment to the effect (and I paraphrase), “You’re all a bunch of gear-heads”, and opined that it’s not about finding the perfect boat, it’s about learning to paddle any boat (within reason). Wait, this is sounding familiar … yet I do believe the poster was from Minnesota, and not the Garnock area (at least, they said they were).

Short of having a kayak built to spec (and what kind of odd little boat would I end up with?!), I am happy to acknowledge that I am a novice and that I wish to learn. In other words, I am happy to “fit” a kayak that I am comfortable in and that has a lot to offer me. It’s easy to be torn in different directions by the trends and opinions that are out there, but I think you have to trust a bit of instinct as well.

I hear that you and your band have sold your guitars and bought turntables.
I hear that you and your band have sold your turntables and bought guitars.

I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.

But have you seen my records? …

You don’t know what you really want.

Losing My Edge LCD Soundsystem

Something unexpected happened last weekend: I fell in love! The object of my affection has it all – good looks, loads of personality, upstanding reputation, and I hope that our relationship will be long and rewarding. For those of you who haven’t connected the dots with the title of this post, I do not speak of a person (although Alan possesses all of the aforementioned qualities, of course), I speak of the thing of beauty that is the Valley Nordkapp LV sea kayak. I am smitten.

The Nordkapp LV (mine is red though)

It had been on my short-list of kayaks to try out, based on my understanding of its qualities, especially in relation to a smaller paddler like myself. To be very honest, I was rather hotly anticipating the new Rockpool Isel, or the TideRace xPlore-S, but that was before I met the Nordy.

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As if we haven’t had enough excellent trips by way of the Garnock Canoe Club this year, we’ve just come back from another one. We were in Islay over the weekend as guests of the very gracious (and environmentally upstanding) Dave and Emma of the Islay Canoe Club. Islay is much closer to us than Lewis, involving a mere 38 miles of driving and a quick hop on the Portavadie-Tarbert ferry followed by 2 hours on the Kennacraig-Port Askaig ferry. We’re practically neighbours!

Kintra on Islay

On Friday evening, we all went for a stroll along the beautiful Kintra beach at sunset, accompanied by Sam and Bria, the springer spaniels. The weather forecast was predicting a day indoors on Saturday, although Richard confidently maintained that conditions would be fine. I know that Richard has some god-like abilities in relation to paddling, but I hadn’t realised that they extended to weather forecasting as well. After a morning of yoga class (during which I determined that I will never again be as flexible as my 10 and 15 year-old classmates), the weather did clear by Saturday afternoon. So off we popped for a few hours of playing in the surf at Traigh Bhan near Port Ellen. This was precisely the type of experience that I needed after my little capsizing episode in Lewis. Richard waded into the soup and taught me how to low brace properly, ensuring that I hip flicked as appropriate to prevent the kayak’s edge from being caught. The more I managed to stay upright, the more it seemed like fun. Next, Dave insisted that I try a little kayak rolling with his guidance. I had been observing Alan’s attempts where it seemed that he wasn’t entirely enjoying his salt-water nasal flushings and I therefore launched a vigorous protest that I wasn’t up for it. Dave seemed deaf to my pleadings. I then watched Kirsty executing a roll unassisted and, duly inspired, I succumbed on the grounds that I be allowed to use a nose clip. Of course, I couldn’t roll without Dave guiding the paddle as my brain engaged a brand new sensory assault (salt water, “stuff” in the water, gushing noises, and so on), but at the very least, it gave me an introduction to the whole rolling-in-the-sea experience. I am pleased to say that it wasn’t quite as horrific as I had anticipated, so there is hope.

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Right now, it’s not so much a matter of choice on whether or not to roll, as a matter of ability. It’s definitely one of the more challenging goals I’ve worked towards in recent times, and I recognise that a lot of the obstacles that I am still trying to overcome are psychological. In other words, I’m my own worst enemy. I take comfort from the fact that I am not alone in this, even although it often feels like I am. I understand that attempting to achieve the “Holy Grail” of kayaking has turned many a normal (well, relatively) person into an irrational, anxiety-ridden, neurotic bundle of pent-up frustration. So far, I have managed to avoid an embarrassing public tantrum/meltdown and a well-drookit visage has disguised the many tears of despair that I have barely managed to suppress.

Friday night at the pool had Alan performing his first C-to-C roll. I’d like to say I rushed over to warmly congratulate him, but actually I could only muster up a scarcely concealed sweary word as coach Richard drew my attention to Alan’s achievement. And yet, I am genuinely happy for Alan (no, really) especially as he has had to learn to roll up on his “bad” side to avoid aggravating a shoulder injury on the other side. Richard did voice a preference for learning the sweep (or screw) roll for sea kayaking, but I am certain that Alan will move on to that also.

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