A week with Gordon Brown of Skyak Adventures

Out on the water with Gordon Brown

Out on the water with Gordon Brown

Mention the name Gordon Brown to the average person and they will instantly think of the besuited chap who resides at No 10 Downing Street. Do likewise to the avid sea kayaker and their thoughts will turn to Skyak Adventures and one of the best-known and most revered coaches in the sea kayaking business, also author of the hugely successful Sea Kayak: A Manual for Intermediate and Advanced Sea Kayakers. Such are his reputation and credentials that I used to think that someone of my lowly paddling status would not “qualify” for a course with him. A conversation with a certain well-known Spanish paddler some time ago, however, convinced me otherwise. It is the case that Skyak Adventures can accommodate everyone from beginners to advanced.


And so it came to pass that Alan and I signed up for a 5 day course which took place last week. As our little group of fellow trainees gathered in Gordon’s converted bothy office at Isle Ornsay on Skye on Monday morning, some modest introductions were made. I recall mentions of paddling for wildlife photography purposes, and of a recent conversion from “couch potato” status, all very benign and it seemed that these were my people. As Gordon sought to learn what skills we wished to focus on, however, I tried not to become alarmed at the frequency of mention of “rough water”, or the size of the lettering of those very words on his white board. I deny all accusations that I participated in this madness. I was assuaged only by the appearance of the word “FUN” in even bigger letters. Gordon then asked what was the one skill that we would like to take home and, for fear of appearing a bit silly, I suppressed the desire to blurt out, “roll my sea kayak dammit”, and mumbled something about kayak handling instead.

Certainly, I was pleased to note that, rather than being some sort of kayaking boot camp, fun had indeed been included on our itinerary. It became very apparent from Gordon’s affable and jocular style and his many witty anecdotes that a light-hearted mood would prevail, although he did warn us that we would know when he was being serious. I fervently hoped that I would not be the one to provoke any “seriousness”.

Out on the water

At Armadale Pier

At Armadale Pier

Soon we were out in Armadale Bay practising sweep strokes and turning in and out of wind. Using these skills, we negotiated our way under the pier and I confess to the odd misjudgement which perhaps added a couple of deeply ingrained scores minor scratches to the Valley Avocet in which I found myself. This brought us out into choppier waters as someone (I remain blameless here) had suggested that self rescuing in calm waters was a scoosh and that they wished to try it in rougher conditions. All eyes fell on Alan as he wrestled his kayak into near submission only to capsize at the last moment. Gordon steered us back to less choppy waters and taught us the finer points of self and assisted rescues. The day wrapped up with a rolling clinic. I had secretly looked forward to this and duly paddled over to Gordon as he stood in the water and motioned for me to approach in the manner of Morpheus in the fight scene of The Matrix. But I was no Neo and my roll failed. It seemed that not even Gordon could work miracles. (Or perhaps they would just take a little longer?).

Tuesday at Kylerhea – off to the races

Breaking out of the tide race

Breaking out of the tide race

Tuesday introduced me to a new concept – entering and exiting tidal races. As most of our paddling is done in the Clyde Estuary, Alan and I do not have a whole lot of experience in this field. Our group had timed our visit to coincide with maximum tidal flow, however, the absence of strong winds made the conditions – I am told – less than perfect in terms of challenge and general scariness. I was OK with this as I have not spent sufficient time practising extravagant low braces to cope well with the entry and exit process for a start. Alan has frequently chastised me for my lackadaisical attitude to this particular skill and indeed I did manage to show myself up. I think I got away with it in our morning session, but the afternoon gave the game away. Let’s just say I was getting to know Gordon quite well during our various rendezvous across an upturned kayak and upon the long paddle back from whence the tide had cast me.

In between tides, a small miracle did occur. Gordon commenced another rolling clinic and I once again signed up. Some precision critiquing from him and – up I came! In a sea kayak! Of course, that was not quite sufficient and soon he had me dispensing with my nose clip (not as terrible as I had imagined) and skull cap, trying out rolling on the move, in moving water etc.

After my various tidal dunkings, Gordon made me end the day with a successful roll and it had the desired effect. I went back to the hotel that night smiling to myself.

Wednesday – the lows and the highs

The wind obliged by getting up a little on Wednesday, to F4-5. We were back at Armadale and once again made our way under the pier to what definitely qualified in my book as rough water. We paddled over to 2 nearby skerries. Gordon instructed us to paddle between them, out into the fray and anti-clockwise around the first one, returning to its lee.

It was like a wild, bucking bronco rodeo ride on an unbroken colt all the way around! Amongst confused waves of up to 6 feet, I knew that at any moment I was about to capsize and only pure luck was keeping me upright. I was so far away from my comfort zone, I was sending it postcards. Back in the lee, to my despair, Gordon sent us around again and my luck finally ran out as I completely misread the water and got trashed by one of the many thousands of waves that were jostling for position to unhinge me. Like a smiling, neoprene clad guardian angel, Gordon materialised at my side and we resumed our acquaintance across my upturned vessel. Once back in, I was given a class in reading the black and the white water and we commenced a clockwise circumnavigation of the island. Next up, an enormous wave loomed over my bow and, to the sound of Gordon shouting “Paddle!” resounding in my ears, I did what came naturally – I completely froze and was once again trashed.

Sorry, no photos from Wednesday - this is Thursday!

Sorry, no photos from Wednesday - this is Thursday!

I’m not going to lie to you, I was not a happy bunny at this point. My mind started spinning to thoughts of giving up completely, to my neglected bike in the garage, to my book and a cosy fireside, and so on. I started to doubt I was cut out for this sea kayaking business – it felt like my ego had been writing cheques that my ability couldn’t cash. I couldn’t help but hate observe my fellow trainees. They seemed to be coping admirably with the conditions, more than is strictly necessary for a spot of wildlife photography if you ask me. So what was my problem? As I sat in the shelter of the island where Gordon had awarded me a rest, I could feel tears welling. But something interesting happened at this point. I paused and took a breath – and somehow I knew I was OK. Underneath the spinning mind, the strangled ego, the envy, I was actually perfectly OK. They were only thoughts, after all. I started watching the manx shearwaters, the terns and the seals, and that very moment felt pretty good in fact. I even started feeling happy that everyone else was doing well – what purpose would it serve if everyone was having a bad time?

As we all met up and pulled in for lunch, Alan confessed to just having had a bit of a swim himself (the omnipresent guardian angel had appeared at his side too). But I’m sure he only did this to try to make me feel better.

Gordon suggested we swap around kayaks and I relinquished the Avocet LV to a willing taker (God bless Nick, who seemed to relish its “liveliness”). We were then informed that we were going out to do some rough water rolling practice and I contemplated what I would do during this time, apart from watch the seals. On the way out, I started to become pleasantly aware that I was doing a little better in my new kayak. Next, 2 more advanced trainees in our party were rolling in the middle of the turbulent conditions. I could only hang back, agog with admiration. Imagine my shock when Gordon turned to me and yelled, “Your turn, Pamela!”. I whimpered back that I had only just learned to roll a sea kayak the day before, and that he could not be serious, but he reminded me that I’d been effectively learning for 2 years. There’s no arguing with the man. And so I capsized. And I rolled up. And stayed up. He made me do it again, and again – and I kept coming up. After about half a dozen rolls in the rough water, I eventually failed – but came up on the second attempt, which proved that my brain could operate without air. Who knew?

Finally, a last couple of trips around the island allowed Alan and me to gain confidence by demonstrating that it was indeed possible to stay upright.

I won’t ever forget that day. I won’t forget the despair or the elation. I had been pushed to a certain limit and had come out the better. It is quite something for someone to believe in you more than you believe in yourself. I won’t forget the encouragement of Gordon, Alan and my fellow trainees. Or the little audience of seals who seemed to approve. Or the terns squawking overhead. It is captured in my memory, and feels a lot like being given a gift.

Thursday – a ring of bright water



As most of our group had travelled quite some distance to get to Skye, including from southernmost England, there was a general desire to do a little exploring. It had been hoped (by some) that the tide race at Kylerhea might be running at savage proportions at some point later in the week, but alas the forecast had changed and this seemed unlikely. So now was a good opportunity to do some sightseeing. We agreed to set out from Camuscross for Sandaig.

The crossing was a little choppy, but I felt good in the Avocet (non LV version) which seemed to handle it with ease. Tips previously provided by Gordon on how to improve forward paddling efficiency helped enormously.

Edal's grave

Edal's grave

Sandaig is the former home of Gavin Maxwell who wrote one of my (and millions of others’) favourite books, “Ring of Bright Water”. It was absolutely magical to visit the scene of “Camusfearna” and I could easily envisage the otters playing about in the bay and the waterfall. After all, not much has changed in that beautiful place over the years. The house is gone now, of course, but a monument to Gavin Maxwell is there in its place, as well as the grave of Edal the otter, poignantly decorated with stones and shells. Some tears were shed as I read the inscription on the latter, written by Maxwell himself:

“Whatever joy she gave to you, give back to Nature.”

On leaving Sandaig, we paddled south-east and then west to Knoydart, stopping briefly for afternoon tea before heading “home” to Camuscross.

Friday – towing the line

The weather had established itself as definitely “settled”, so Friday morning was spent at Skyak Adventures’ international headquarters, aka the bothy, working on tidal planning. During the course of our lesson, Gordon advised Alan and me of a location not far from Cowal to which we will shortly be making a beeline to play with the tide. More later!

Towing Alan to the Cuillins

Towing Alan to the Cuillins

We took the Skyak minibus down to Ord where, against a magnificent backdrop of the Cuillins, we commenced practice with the many different kinds of towing that one can do, including improvised methods. It was amusing to note that all the females of our party had chosen to be towees first, followed by the the males who relished their turn a bit too enthusiastically. This was succeeded by some sort of kayak display team stunt that I haven’t quite fathomed, but looked like fun. Rolling clinic came after that and, before we knew it, it was all over and time to go home.

Having taken leave of Gordon and our other new friends, our minds were filled with the sea and kayaks as we headed down the road to Cowal. We came away from our week in Skye so completely encouraged and enthused that it was actually difficult to imagine going for more than a couple of days without being back out on the water. We were greatly looking forward to continuing to work on our skills. So it’s no surprise that on Sunday, we were out on Loch Eck and – notching up another day of achievement – I rolled my very own Nordkapp LV.

When I’m at the pearly gates
This’ll be on my videotape
My videotape

No matter what happens now
I won’t be afraid
Because I know
Today has been the most perfect day I have ever seen

Videotape, In Rainbows, Radiohead


  1. Alice says:

    Wow – sounds like a great week. Hope you get a chance to practice your new skills. How did you find the Avocat in comparision to your Capella and Nordkapp?

  2. pamf says:

    Hello Alice – Alan and I both liked the Avocet a lot. So much so that, let’s just say, a little clear-out is taking place in the garage … watch this space! It seems like it would make a really nice day boat, even for someone who isn’t necessarily “small”. I’d previously thought of it as a small person’s boat, but I think it’s better thought of as a day boat for someone who’s not large (if you follow me). Or, if you’re used to backpacking and sawing your toothbrush in half etc, you could still do camping with it quite readily. The Avocet LV, on the other hand, is a small person’s kayak and, as I have noted, was just a bit too much on the lively side for me. This may well relate more to my skill levels, but I felt like I was being tossed about terribly in the rougher conditions.

    The Avocet is nippy and very maneouverable compared to the Nordkapp or the Capella, and I felt quite “in control” in it in rougher conditions. The Nordkapp LV is a bigger kayak obviously, but is more maneuoverable than the Capella, imho. The Capella was a good boat for starting out. I always felt safe in it as a novice, even in rough conditions. And, of course, it is good for practising steering skills and rockhopping!

    To give you an idea – I am 112 lbs and 5′ 5″. My husband, Alan, tried the Avocet too and loved it – he’s 165 lbs and 5’11”.

  3. Hello Pam, I am glad, but not surprised, you enjoyed Skyak!

    There are two particularly good places near you for rough wind against tide. Both Garroch Head on Bute and Farland head on Great Cumbrae have races off them on a spring ebb. With a southerly wind they produce water that will be rough enough for anyone.

    I agree about the Avocet I would have bought one as a day boat instead of the Norkapp LV but it was just too much of a squeeze for my 203lbs. Just looking at your weight, which is about half mine, I think you would find the Nordkapp LV a real a handfull when its windy and unladen.

    Another one you should have a look at is the Romany Pilgrim. That is the easiest boat I have ever rolled.


  4. pamf says:

    Hi Douglas – Thank you for your note. I shall make a note of those locations, I think Gordon mentioned the Bute one (we haven’t quite got round that far yet), but he also mentioned Rhu Narrows. We had not appreciated that there is quite a tidal flow there. It has the added advantage of being “safe” to practise in. I should add that, in view of our (esp my) limited skills in this area, I am looking to start out at least somewhere that has plenty of refuge available and isn’t too violent! But we will work our way up to the more challenging conditions you mention, promise :0

    It’s a funny thing with choosing kayaks, the things we’re looking for now are a little different from what we were looking for last year. Now we are thinking on day kayaks (and second mortgages at this rate) in addition to our newly designated “camping” kayaks. Our concept of fit has changed as well, esp since we’ve experienced kayaks that we’d previously associated with smaller people than ourselves. Also, rolling has taken on more significance (now that we actually can!) and we appreciate just how handy/essential a skill it is. I did have the opportunity to roll a Romany S (RM) at Gordon’s and indeed – consistent with your Pilgrim experience – found it easier, so perhaps it’s a “Romany” trait?. The Valley kayaks don’t let me get away with any sloppiness (this is true even after fitting out my Nordkapp LV to have much improved thigh contact). I haven’t entirely figured out the reasons for this, but it leads me to the question of which is best – a kayak that forces you to engage a textbook roll every time, or one that you know will work even if you are tired, struggling, sloppy etc? Or does the former ultimately negate the latter? Argh!

    The Pilgrim has certainly got my attention and I am eagerly anticipating Karitek’s next open day (sadly some weeks off while they move premises). My only hesitation in relation to kayaks that are very specifically designed for “the little people” relates to perhaps finding myself at the top end of their spec in relation to stature if not weight. I’m not sure if that’s what made me feel so tossed about in the Avocet LV, for example. In other words, how little is little? Or could it be a case of smaller/lighter kayak + light paddler + skill inadequacies = so much flotsam? Ideally, I’d love (sitting here in my armchair and reflecting now) to have tried out a few other kayaks on the rough stuff. Not sure my nerves would have handled it though! It’s difficult to make sense of it all sometimes, so I do appreciate your insight.

    I’m very fond of the quality, appearance and general traits of Valley kayaks, but haven’t ruled out a supplementary switch of allegiance. Meanwhile, Alan and I will fight over the Avocet 🙂

    I do hope that your knee is improving and that you’re not going too stir crazy. At least it may be some consolation that the weather is ensuring that we are all kept indoors at the moment.

  5. Ignacio Wenley Palacios Iglesias says:

    Hello Pam,

    I am happy to learn that you are as elated by your training week in Skye as I was when I first travelled there on Dr. Wilcox’s suggestion. I think you did very fine: On my first day, I managed to roll only with an extended paddle, swimming twice as I practiced eddy turns in Kyke Rhea. Still, I never learnt as much as in those five first days.

    Best whishes,


  6. pamf says:

    Hi Wenley – Thank you for your comment. I didn’t realise that it was Douglas who had recommended Skyak to you. We have come full circle now!

    Yes, I won’t forget those 5 days in a hurry. They have left an indelible mark.

    It is also encouraging to think on how far you have come since then. They were evidently an excellent foundation.

    Take care.

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