I’ve been accumulating in my notebook vital statistics (length, volume and width) relating to various makes and models of craft. I refer to this quite often and thought maybe others would find it useful. Alan has kindly added to it to make it more comprehensive. So here it is.

I recall back in my San Jose Sharks season-ticket holder days that there was a term that was applied to obsessive hockey fans, the type who considered the Sharks Tank as being their second home, could quote every statistic of every NHL game to the point of inducing sleep, and then went to bed wearing teal pyjamas. They were known as “puck-heads”. It is evident that similar levels of obsession can be diagnosed amongst the paddling community, therefore the equivalent term might be “paddle-head”.  How do you know if you are a paddle-head? After a little analysis, I have determined that the following symptoms might offer a clue:

1. Your hands are many shades darker than the rest of your body.
2. You can’t decide whether to vote Tory, Labour or Liberal, but have clearly defined preferences when it comes to Rockpool, Valley or P&H.
3. Your idea of a fashion boutique is the paddle-wear section at Tiso’s, which you consider to be woefully understocked.
4. Your wardrobe contains more paddle-wear than “normal” clothing (indeed, you’re not sure what “normal” is any more).
5. You have often been seen shopping in the supermarket in your thermal underlayer.
6. When the hairdresser asks if you’re going anywhere special that evening you reply, “Rolling practice”.
7. You don’t consider the presence of a sea kayak in your living room to be unusual.
8. Your DVD collection owes more to Justine Curgenven than James Cameron.
9. You’ve watched “The Kayak Roll” DVD so often, you can recall the background muzak.
10. Your bathroom, no matter how stylish, will never feature in “Homes and Gardens” as it is permanently bedecked in drying paddle-gear.
11. Your bath has a permanent rim of salt and grit around it from gear rinsing.
12. Your gear is never quite dry.
13. You’re seriously considering a house extension to accommodate a proper rinsing and drying room.
14. Your asthma inhaler squirts salt water.
15. 90% of your Facebook friends have a profile picture that contains a kayak.
16. Learning to roll is your proudest achievement, but your offside needs work.
17. You can’t look out at the sea without assessing the sea state.
18. You know the average lunitidal interval for your area.
19. In the unlikely event that you go away on a non-paddling trip, you still have to review the location for paddling potential.
20. The name “Gordon Brown” evokes feelings of admiration and respect.
21. The number of contact lenses lost through rolling practice extends into the teens.
22. You’ve also lost at least one phone and/or camera to the salty depths.
23. You haven’t a clue who the latest celebrities are, but you can hold your own discussing kayak models, gelcoat repair, j-bars, roofracks, drysuits and rolling technique.
24. You’re more often than not wearing a hat in order to hide the salty mess that is your hair.
25. You consider a kayak with a rudder to be unethical.
26. You no longer associate a windless day with ideal paddling conditions.
27. You think neoprene hoods look quite cool actually.
28. Whether you are struck with illness, bankruptcy, fire or flood, the very first question you ask yourself is, will this interfere with my paddling?
29. You can determine the vintage of a kayak at 10 paces.
30. Your idea of a horror flick is video of your failed rolls.
31. The parts that are of most interest on an OS map are next to the blue bits.
32. You not only know when to use a skeg, but have probably reassembled one – more than once.
33. You’ve considered purchasing a norsaq and tuiliq, or perhaps making your own.
34. You know the difference between a modified crank shaft and a neutral bent shaft.
35. You consider a key development in the history of the late 20th Century to be the evolution of the Anas Acuta and the Nordkapp.
36. You assess a kayak by the hardness of its chines.
37. You’ve spent many hours deliberating over your ideal VHF call sign.
38. Your browser home page is the Met Office surface pressure chart.
39. You’re secretly hoping that someone will get you a portable anemometer for Christmas.
40. You have a kayaking blog but are too busy paddling to keep it fully updated

I fear that this condition could worsen and that there are even more advanced symptoms that could be documented here, so I would invite anyone who has experienced them to submit their observations. All in the interests of research of course …

A couple of years ago, I mentioned on this blog the fact that Alan and I had each taken ownership of a Palm Aleutian drysuit. Being that sufficient time has now passed to form a valid assessment of their performance, it’s perhaps appropriate for me to share our findings. The drysuits have been in regular use over the past 2 years, probably being worn an average of once per week in the past year, although Alan had a bit of a break last winter due to injury. The suits have been subject to regular immersion through rescue (including rolling) practice, but no abuse. They are always rinsed thoroughly after each wearing.

After about six months, Alan noticed that his feet were constantly damp after a paddle.  Whilst on a camping trip last September, my neck seal split and we took this as an opportunity to send both drysuits back to Palm for neck seal replacement, and repair of Alan’s suit’s feet. Palm replaced both the neck seals and the feet on both dry suits in record time, charging only for the seals. The leakage that Alan had experienced was recognised as a design flaw and Palm are now using new, improved materials for the feet which they had duly attached to our suits.

Disturbing scenes

Fast forward a year, and Alan’s drysuit  is experiencing leakage that is manifesting around the backside area, requiring a towel on the car seat on the way home to spare his blushes. A fellow Royal West club member kindly loaned him a sophisticated drysuit inflation device, involving a pump and several plastic bottles to allow testing of where the leak might be emanating from. In scenes reminiscent of a horror flick, anyone stumbling across our bathroom might have been alarmed to see us drowning our chubby (and headless) paddler “hostage”, but it was all in the interests of scientific research*. We then became fairly certain that leakage could be traced to the rear entry zip area.  It was not long after this that we noticed that the suit is, to our despair, delaminating substantially primarily in the middle back area, but also in small areas elsewhere. The delamination is visible as bubbly ripples where the top layer of the fabric is separated from the lower layers.

Being that I have worn my suit a bit more than Alan has worn his, one would expect that it would have been showing greater signs of wear and tear. Aside from the neck seal, however, which needs replacing again, my suit has performed remarkably well with no leaks being detected. It too, however, is starting to show signs of delamination. Interestingly, Alan’s suit is much more faded than mine.

The Aleutian is not a cheap drysuit, so we are a little disappointed that, after 2 years – and well out of the one year warranty – we are now faced with the prospect of replacing ours. The need to replace the latex seals is entirely expected, but delamination seems  premature. Browsing online, we’ve discovered a few other folks with the same issues, eg here.

Rather than incurring continued repair bills, the more prudent thing might be to look for an alternative suit. We have now turned our attention to the Typhoon range and so far we have not heard or read anything bad about them. Their 3 year guarantee is also very attractive.