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How To Turn New Paddlers Into Lifelong Enthusiasts

Overhead shot of many colored sea kayaks and paddleboards on the water, gathered together.
Your life is to a large extent the sum of all your habits—good or bad. You have chosen at least one wisely. And you’re not alone. | Photo: Len Wagg

When I replaced the smoke detectors in the Paddling Magazine office last fall, I noticed the batteries will last 10 years. There’s even a little sticker on the device to write the year I installed them.

As I wrote the date on the line with a Sharpie, I wondered what the person (probably me) who changes the batteries a decade from now will think about when he sees “2020” written on the side.

Whatever happens over the next 10 years, if history is any guide at all, the year we just finished will be a mostly faded memory.

A little more than 10 years ago, supply outpaced demand in the housing market. Falling prices meant mortgage holders couldn’t sell their homes to cover the outstanding loans. The U.S. government had increased the federal borrowing rate. Thousands of questionable creditworthy homeowners who’d jumped on sub-prime interest rates were up for renewal. The defaulting loans were tied to hedge funds, derivatives and sketchy backdoor credit swaps. The burst of the housing bubble brought the U.S. banking industry to its knees, almost collapsing the world’s financial systems. Meanwhile, Black Eyed Peas’ “Boom Boom Pow” topped Billboard’s Year-End 100 singles chart. But I bet you don’t remember that little detail either.

On March 11, 2020, the World Health Organization declared a global pandemic because of a new coronavirus. Three months later, demand for paddlesports equipment outpaced supply.

The details of the pandemic will very likely fade from memory. We will probably forget how infected bats, or maybe pangolins, from a street market in Wuhan, China, led to social distancing regulations and the largest boom in paddlesports history. What will matter more than what just happened and how, is what we decide to do with all these new paddlers.

In this article, we asked 20 industry leaders the questions paddlers everywhere would be asking each other in bars over beers, if we could gather in bars for beers. How long will this boom last? How do we keep all these new paddlers safe? How do we keep their new boats and gear off Craigslist once Carnival’s cruise ships sail again?

For more than 20 years, I’ve been having serious conversations with marketing and sales teams, national paddling organizations, clubs, instructors, high school teachers and friends. How do we get more people into paddlesports?

Overhead shot of many colored sea kayaks and paddleboards on the water, gathered together.
Your life is to a large extent the sum of all your habits—good or bad. You have chosen at least one wisely. And you’re not alone. | Photo: Len Wagg

I’ve always been uncomfortable with the term, but an overwhelmingly optimistic growth strategy in the trade is commonly referred to as “Butts in Boats.” As in, if we can just get more people to just try paddling, they’ll love it and do it.

Will they though, really?

I went skydiving a few years ago. Maybe that industry has a similar “Newbs in Chutes” theory. Except, I only jumped once. I didn’t buy any gear. And will probably never do it again.

Never would anyone in paddlesports ever come up with a strategy to infect millions worldwide with a deadly virus. But here we are. COVID-19 put butts in boats and on boards. Lots and lots of them. More than our wildest dreams.

So, if getting more butts in boats was the answer to growing paddlesports all along, why not massive celebration among our industry professionals?

Where we will be in 3,650 days when someone (probably me) changes the batteries in the Paddling Magazine smoke detectors depends on the next 21 days. Because 21 days is the minimum amount of time it takes for someone to form a new habit. Like, say, paddling.

Thanks to the pandemic and social distancing driving thousands of new butts into boats—and some old butts back into boats, too—all we need to do now is make paddling a behavior repeated regularly. Habit research suggests 21 days of tying boats and boards to roof racks, donning PFDs and pushing off from shore is all that’s needed to create a subconscious routine, one these new pandemic paddlers will soon do automatically.

[ Paddling Buyer’s Guide: Find all your paddling gear here ]

Canoeing, kayaking or paddleboarding moves them closer to what they want—adventure, relaxation, fun or fitness. It will eventually feel strange to them not to paddle. It will be such a natural thing to do, they won’t know how to explain the reasons why they love it so much. Like us.

We can help get them there.

Here’s to possibility. To better world health. To good habits. And to meeting more friends on the water than ever before. It’s going to be great.

This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.


Scott MacGregor is the founder and publisher of Rapid Media.

Your life is to a large extent the sum of all your habits—good or bad. You have chosen at least one wisely. And you’re not alone. | Photo: Len Wagg

A Paddler’s Nightmare: A Flash Flood In Under 60 Seconds (Video)

Onlookers watched in awe as a previously-dry rock bed in East Maui, Hawaii rapidly began to fill with rushing water.

Waioko Pond (also known as Venus Pool) is one of the country’s most spectacular natural pools. Surrounded by rugged mountains and a scenic coastline backdrop, it’s no surprise that the pools are fast becoming a visitor hot spot.

Due to being situated at the bottom of a vast mountain range with varying climates, East Maui can collect an unfathomable amount of rain. A Maui guidebook warns potential visitors that it could be raining hundreds of square miles upstream, even if it’s sunny and clear down at the pools.

The Dangers Of Flash Floods

Every year, sightseers and river users alike lose their lives in rapid flash flooding events all over the world. Earlier in 2021, KHON2 News reported the death of a 26-year-old Californian woman who drowned after swimming in the pools of Waioko Pond. She was caught in a sudden flash flood and swept out to the ocean within minutes. She scrambled to cling onto riverside rocks, but the force of the water proved too powerful.

[ Start planning your next kayaking adventure with the Paddling Trip Guide ]

Plan Ahead To Mitigate Risk

The best way of surviving a flash flood is by avoiding it in the first place. Avoid paddling in areas that are prone to flash flooding events, be sure to check the weather in advance of your trip, and always have an escape plan in mind. Additionally, make sure to check flood warnings for the area and park or camp well away from the watershed in question (if in a high-risk flood zone).

A Sea Kayaker’s Guide To Paddling Through An Unprecedented Pandemic

Man wearing a mask and baseball hat carrying a kayak and paddle along the coast.
Welcome to the pandemic era. We’re all solo expedition paddlers now. | Photo: Kevin Light

What do we do when a storm might be coming through? I ask rhetorically. “Get off the water. Find a strong position and hunker down.”

February 2020

We’re sitting in the operations hub of a Baja sea kayak company. The topic is a group that wants to reschedule their trip because they’re worried about something called coronavirus. It’s easy for me to talk. My trip leaves tomorrow, six days of photography in the Sea of Cortez. The stress of running a kayak business isn’t mine. But it’s etched on the face of my old friend, the owner. Of course, the strong position is to do trips as long as it’s safe, so the outfit and its employees can weather the financial drain in a seasonal business already prone to strong flood and ebb cycles.

The storm, of course, is far bigger than we imagine.

For the next six days, we paddle with leaping dolphins, flocks of pelicans and boobies, and brilliant sunrises. I celebrate my birthday with the best seafood tacos I’ve ever had and a paddle with tropical fish. Then I fly home.

March 2020

Three weeks later, half the world’s 7.8 billion people are under lockdown. The storm’s hitting different places at different times, but it’s rolling in big. While I’m “social distancing,” life is still normal in Baja. Then the same patterns appear. My friend tells me cancellations are rising like the tide on a narrow beach, threatening to swamp everything. Some visitors make the last flight out. Two days later, I see videos of the Policia Municipal enforcing the lockdown at the fish taco place, the estuary where I launched, and the beach where we surfed amidst diving pelicans.

The storm is a hurricane

As the news builds, lockdowns strengthen and boat ramps close, I limit my paddling to short exercise paddles, reading a book on an island in the middle of the river. I know I could find water access, avoid other people until I’m afloat, and feel the water under my hull. But driving around with a boat on my car sends the wrong message about essential trips. So, I kill time with charts of Haida Gwaii, making plans for… someday.

Sea kayakers who paddle challenging waters always manage uncertain risks. We go where information is sketchy. Baja has no VHF forecasts; my haunts on the British Columbia coast have no current tables. Rounding an exposed headland requires anticipating what might happen somewhere else hours later when the tide changes and the wind shifts. Mistakes put you and your co-paddlers at risk. Welcome to the pandemic era. We’re all expedition paddlers now.

The grocery store becomes an exposed crossing. We hedge our bets: go early before the wind rises, paddle quickly to limit exposure, go when crowds are smaller, get in and get out, wash our hands. Or skip the crossing and have groceries delivered—the lockdown equivalent of hiring a water taxi to take you somewhere you’d rather not paddle.

Expedition behavior applies: Commit to shared goals. Take care of yourself so you can help the group. Help others but don’t do their job for them. Minimize unnecessary risks. Conserve energy. Be calm. But now my group is a city of 2.2 million, not a few trusted friends.

Man wearing a mask and baseball hat carrying a kayak and paddle along the coast.
Welcome to the pandemic era. We’re all solo expedition paddlers now. | Photo: Kevin Light

June 2020

A wave fills my cockpit with cold seawater before I can seal my skirt. It’s my first beach launch in months, and I timed it poorly. The virus is clearly here for a while. Lockdowns are easing, not due to vaccines but human nature—we just can’t stay inside anymore. My paddling range has extended to camping on uninhabited islands, small groups, no shuttles, avoiding crowded put-ins. No meals and beer afterward. A friend who’s watched too many spy thrillers calls it Moscow Rules Kayaking: lay low, watch for opportunities, then move decisively. But we’re going rock gardening, not sneaking over the Berlin Wall.

August 2020

The lady from the next campsite asks where to put the garbage she kindly cleaned up after some jerk left an ugly trash pile. But there’s nowhere to put it. The overflowing dumpsters have been taken away. The bathrooms are BYO toilet paper. In a summer without little league or concerts, kayaks on cars are everywhere. The outdoors is swamped. And it’s getting, well, trashed.

Now we launch early in the morning when few people are around. But coming off the water later means navigating seas of people, many maskless, who flock to the water. Many friends bail for fear of outdoor-starved mobs at the take-out. The calculus between exposure risk and the benefits of fresh air, exercise and camaraderie are still a known unknown. It’s Yogi Berra paddling: “Nobody goes there anymore because it’s too crowded.”

Having spent my career encouraging people to love and protect nature, this new enthusiasm is great but overwhelming. A park manager says they’ve gone from emptying garbage cans once a week to four times a day. The pandemic’s economic hit has pummeled agency funding, so fewer staff now manage more visitors. This could create a groundswell of demand for more campgrounds, trails and parks. But it may come with agency budgets bleeding red ink. This double whammy is like a tough rock-garden rescue: the need is greatest when it’s most risky for the rescuer.

October 2020

A cold wind whips sea fog from the south. In Rosario Strait, I hear foghorns from ferries or tankers. I grimace and turn around: no crossing this afternoon. The end of my solo trip through the San Juans will be a day later. I’m pushing season’s end hard, and I know why: I dread the rainy, dark winter that’s knocking. With virus cases up and the mercury down, it will be winter without warm gatherings with friends. The annual rough water symposium has been canceled.

I’m pushing season’s end hard, and I know why: I dread the rainy, dark winter that’s knocking. 

To brace for a five-month “weather day,” hunkered down with the news instead of the VHF, I make lists of quasi-paddling projects. Relearn knots, revive stalled photo projects, organize the gear room. Sure, there will be some rainy, cold paddles, too.

By the time you read this in spring, the storm will have eased. And that’s another thing we all learned from sea kayaking: the weather is king, and plans are always subject to change. The Haida Gwaii charts will come back out, and I’ll plan a trip for… someday.

This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.


Neil Schulman paddles and writes from Portland, Oregon.

Welcome to the pandemic era. We’re all solo expedition paddlers now. | Photo: Kevin Light

6 Crazy Close Animal Encounters (Video)

orcas-bites-paddleboard

A wildlife encounter on a paddling trip is a bucket list item for many. But when said wildlife crosses personal space boundaries, well, the experience becomes less desirable. We’ve rounded the top 6 scariest paddling animal encounters on the internet for you to enjoy—from a safe distance, of course.

Did we miss any great videos? Leave a comment below or send us a message on Instagram or Facebook.

6. A Kayaker’s Intimate Encounter With Basking Sharks
This kayaker was paddling through the waters of Ireland’s west coast when over half a dozen Basking Sharks surrounded his kayak. Basking Sharks’ jaws can expand up to 3 feet wide and, although they rarely attack humans, we can clearly see that it’s feeding o’clock for these fellas.
Watch the video »

5. Dolphin Wipes Out Standup Paddle Boarder
This Australian paddleboarder is no stranger to sharing the wave with dolphins. So, when he noticed the pod of dolphins surrounding him, he simply assumed they were herding fish. Turns out, one dolphin had its sights set on something bigger.
dolphin-hits-paddle-boarderWatch the video »

4. Way-Too-Close Encounter With Orca
This ocean SUPer was paddling off Kuaotunu Beach in New Zealand when a pod of orcas began diving for stingrays underneath his board. Things began to get a little tense when one orca swam up to take a bite on his board.
orcas-bites-paddleboardWatch the video »

3. Scary Hippo Encounter On The Lugenda River
The group was paddling on the Lugenda River in North Mozambique. The trip goes from placid to pulse-pounding when an unexpected hippo suddenly surfaces, threatening to swamp their boats.
Man in an inflatable boat encounters a hippoWatch the video »

2. Alligator Charges Kayak
A kayaker exploring a section of a North Carolina river found more than he expected when an alligator slammed into his boat. The nail-biting encounter goes from bad to worse when kayak capsizes.
alligator-charges-kayakWatch the video »

1. Kayakers Nearly Swallowed By Humpback Whale
Two whale-watchers off Avila Beach in California had a terrifying experience when a humpback overturned their kayak and appeared to nearly swallow them.

Humpback whale in California

Watch the video »

Zach Baranowski Photographs Close Encounter Between Whale Pod & Kayaker

Shot from above of whales swimming on ocean with kayaker behind.
Warning: Close encounters like these may be over-whale-ming. | Photo: Zach Baranowski

As winter closes in on the Arctic, it becomes a dreamland. The short days are an endless transition from sunrise to sunset, with soft light illuminating the sky before the landscape plunges into complete darkness for a long winter.

Each year, winter’s arrival brings billions of Atlantic herring following the Gulf Stream, seeking shelter in Norway’s northern fjords. Hungry orcas and humpback whales follow, ready to feed. Frigid waters well up from the continental shelf here, carrying nutrients that support the planet’s largest cold water reef.

Shot from above of whales swimming on ocean with kayaker behind.
Warning: Close encounters like these may be over-whale-ming. | Photo: Zach Baranowski

I set out with fellow photographers to experience the Arctic Ocean firsthand. During the first couple days on the ocean, we spent more time roaming on the boat than in the water, as the humpbacks and orcas were on the move, chasing the herring into the fjords. International guidelines recommend keeping a distance of at least 300 feet from whales. We were careful, allowing the cetaceans to approach us and cutting the engine to avoid disturbing them when they neared.

When we crossed paths with this lone kayaker, I got my first real sense of the enormity of these humpbacks as I photographed them from above with a drone. The sea kayak was dwarfed in comparison to even the smallest whale in the pod. It can be hard to grasp the size of these whales when all you can see is a fluke or dorsal fin. Their bodies reach lengths of up to 54 feet—the size of a school bus—and weigh up to 40 tons. An adult humpback can swallow 220 pounds of herring in a single gulp.

Someone on our boat remarked on how brave this kayaker must be to paddle amongst the pod. While humpbacks are considered gentle giants, people have been injured and even killed when too close to a breaching whale or tail slap.

It is a privilege to witness one of the richest marine ecosystems in the world, which exists thanks to a delicate balance. Increased tourism, shipping traffic, oil exploration and other anthropogenic activities can affect the populations of orcas, humpbacks and other marine life in the Arctic.

As winter closes in on the Arctic, it becomes a dreamland. The short days are an endless transition from sunrise to sunset, with soft light illuminating the sky before the landscape plunges into complete darkness for a long winter.

Norway is western Europe’s largest oil and gas producer, and with a December 2020 Supreme Court verdict further opening up its Arctic to more oil drilling, the country is on track to operate more oil wells than ever. Disturbances can mean trouble for cetaceans, especially during the crucial months while they feed on the herring before journeying 3,000 miles back to the Caribbean, one of the longest migratory journeys of any mammal on Earth.

On my final day in the fjords and with just a few hours of daylight to work with, we spotted a pod of orcas and humpback whales feeding on a ball of herring. I spent two hours photographing them in the frigid Arctic waters, watching the feeding frenzy and the graceful giants glide effortlessly through the water.

As Arctic water rushed into my wetsuit, I wished for the dry warmth of a kayak. But, the longer I observed the humpback passing in and out of a ball of herring, disappearing into the shadowy distance then reappearing, the more I forgot about the creeping chill. As it circled back, I saw the ominous glow of the white markings on its vast pectoral fins gliding in the darkness as it approached within meters of me. A moment and feeling I won’t ever forget.

This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.


Zach Baranowski is an award-winning freelance photographer specializing in outdoor adventure and wildlife connections.

Warning: Close encounters like these may be over-whale-ming. | Photo: Zach Baranowski

Twin Cities Intrepid Kayaker Crosses Lake Michigan For A Record Third Time

red touring kayak sits on beach after Lake Michigan crossing
Feature photo: Mike Stout

“Of all my Great Lake adventures this one ranks among my most favorite.” tells Mike Stout, a long time Twin Cities resident. He adds, “The conditions were perfect, views spectacular, and with every journey there is the need to overcome.”

lighthouse tower on Lake Michigan
Photo: Mike Stout

The day’s journey begins under the shadows of Wisconsin’s Rawley Point Lighthouse to Michigan’s Big Sable Lighthouse.

The biggest challenge on this trip is the unseasonably hot temperature reaching into the mid 80s and cold water in the low 50s. Because he dresses to the temperature of the water, in the unlikely event of a spill, he wore 1.5 ml neoprene pants and long sleeve top, and 3.0 ml booties. The combination of the beating sun, calm winds, and bright reflection coming off the lake, and wearing his thick wet suit, he must pause every hour to generously hydrate to avoid the onset of heat exhaustion.

After watching the brilliant red and orange sunrise, eating a hearty breakfast, and staging his 17’2” open sea NC Kayak, at about 7:30AM he is ready to launch. He looks over Lake Michigan and takes in the beauty of this incredible blue sea with its gentle waves and thinks to himself, “I am truly blessed.”

His goal is to complete the crossing in 16 hours (+/- 1 hour). With excellent lake conditions he thinks it may possible to finish as quickly as 14 hours. He doesn’t give the though of a record pace too much time as he fears it may jinx the opportunity.

As he slips his protective skirt over his neoprene pants and long sleeve top, then secures his PFD, Stout takes one last look over the horizon and takes in the view of Lake Michigan view and takes a deep breath. “Of all the Great Lakes this is my favorite and today it feels as if she is welcoming me on.”

With his kayak halfway in the water he slips into the cockpit and get comfortably positioned. Everything is feeling good and so right. He then launches onto the beautiful calm of Lake Michigan. The clear sky and rising sun present ideal conditions for a wondrous journey.

bow shot of red touring kayak on Lake Michigan
Photo: Mike Stout

In the middle of Lake Michigan surrounded by hundreds of square miles of brilliant shades of blue, stunning pastels beaming through the distant soft white clouds, incredible lake reflections of even greater color, Stout shares, “I can’t help but be in awe. Plus, to hear no sound other than my paddle breaking the surface of the calm lake or drops of water falling from the paddle when I pause, it’s hard to express how blessed I feel. I wish others could be with me to enjoy this wondrous experience.”

In the early evening Stout spots the soft cast of land miles away, then notices a discernible white shape. He is certain it is Ludington’s Big Sable Lighthouse, his Michigan destination and home for the evening. Confident that it is, all he must do is keep my kayak pointed in that direction and enjoy the remains journey and its remarkable views, calm, and serenity.

On this trip he is not alone. There are two fresh water freighters hugging Michigan’s west coast. When he crosses the trailing wake of the first it is no more than a subtle lake roll.

About 12 miles out there is a gaggle of geese of maybe 30 or more. Pooled together they have no worries until he approaches them from the middle of the lake. They’re spooked and take off. So near he can feel the breeze generated from the collection of their powerful large wings.

As the sun sets and the sky turns dark the final guiding point comes from the beacon from atop Michigan’s Big Sable Lighthouse.

Stout shares, “I enjoy paddling the Great Lakes under the cover of darkness the most. It is then when I look above and achieve a special closeness to God and where the phrase that I often here, “There are a thousand angels looking over you,” comes to mind. It is here where I achieve an incredible sense of peace while feeling the weight of what feels like many around me. At times the likeness of my parents, brother, and grandparents so vivid, it feels so real. At times I can see their expressions of worry, disbelief, and pride on their faces. It is for this reason I am eager to return for another Great Lake nighttime adventure, to experience something so surreal and otherwise not possible.”

red touring kayak sits on beach after Lake Michigan crossing
Feature photo: Mike Stout

With Big Sable Lighthouse straight ahead and not far, he looks down to make sure everything is properly packed away. He then picks up my speed to prepare for a soft landing on Michigan’s gradual and pristine sandy beach. He looks up and to his surprise, the combination of his headlight and the lighthouse’s backlight reveals the large impenetrable steel wall protecting Big Sable. Just as quickly, he reverse paddles to slow his momentum and escape a certain head-on collision.

Having zig zagged across Lake Michigan, following the sun and chasing distant clouds he finishes his 56 mile course in 15.4 hours.

Before he crawls into his sleeping bag for the night, he stands alone on shore and takes in the beauty of Big Sable Point Lighthouse, then looks over the lake, glances to the stars, and gives thanks for yet another grand adventure.

I can’t help but think, “How blessed am I?.”

Thank you for your interest is sharing the story about my most recent Great Lakes crossing.

Since picking up the sport six seasons ago I have paddled over 5,300 miles. Highlights include having paddled across Great Lakes Michigan (3), Superior (1), and Lake Huron (1). I made the round trip across the Straits of Mackinac and tapped the massive columns of the Mackinac Bridge. I have competed in races from across the country: Seventy48 in Washington, 150 mile Campus to Coast race in Michigan, as well as Wisconsin and Minnesota.

If you would like to read more about my:

Mike Stout
Photo: Mike Stout

Again, thank you for your consideration. I trust your readers will find this record setting Great Lakes crossing and plans for an in season three-peat of interest. If I can provide additional insights or answer any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.

Sincerely,

Mike Stout
(952) 239-3943
msplmn02@gmail.com

 

Abilities in Motion and Angle Oar LLC Collaborate to Make Kayaking Accessible to More Canadians

Photo: Hope Foundation
Photo: Hope Foundation

With 891,163 square kilometers of freshwater covering the country, Canadians have many options when it comes to deciding where to kayak. Yet despite the sizeable number of paddling destinations, not everyone has the same ability to participate in kayaking. Shoulder injuries, disabilities and the aches and pains of getting older prevent many from realizing the physical and mental health benefits of paddling.

Two organizations are working together to change all that by making specialized kayak paddles and equipment available to Canadians who might not normally be able to kayak. Angle Oar LLC, a US-based company that manufactures adaptive kayaking equipment, and Abilities in Motion, a Canadian-based non-profit organization that promotes inclusive paddling, have joined together to bring the equipment to Canada.

Photo: Hope Foundation
Photo: Hope Foundation

The availability of adaptive kayaking, or universal kayaking as it is sometimes called, has been steadily growing in both Canada and the US. By making small adjustments to the kayak, the paddle and/or the related accessories, many people with strength or mobility limitations can kayak independently.

“We’ve had countless customers with significant paralysis due to a stroke or spinal cord injury find that they could kayak with our mount-supported paddling systems,” notes Meg McCall, Founder & CEO of Angle Oar. “For many, it was their first time out of a wheelchair and moving independently in years. It’s been life changing.”

Adaptations range from extra paddling to support someone’s torso, outriggers for added stability, wrist grips for people unable to grasp the blade, and mounted kayak paddles which require less strength to paddle.

Angle Oar’s paddling systems use mounts that attach to the kayak and support the weight of the paddle, reducing stress on the shoulders, back and joints. The company has a patented paddle, Versa, that angles downwards on each side, requiring a smaller range of motion from the paddler. It can also be used straight, like a traditional paddle.  The company’s customers include people with disabilities, experienced paddlers who’ve had rotator cuff surgery, adaptive paddling programs, and kayak retail and rental shops.

Photo: Hope Foundation
Photo: Hope Foundation

“We’ve been offering adaptations and making kayaking accessible in Ontario and beyond for more than a decade. We were aware of Angle Oar’s innovative paddling products for some time, but we didn’t have a good solution for overcoming the significant shipping costs,” says Pauline Halstead, Executive Director of Abilities in Motion (AIM). “After a lot of research and some creative brainstorming, Meg and I figured out a way to bring them into Canada in a way that was more affordable to consumers.”

Halstead, who has been a pioneer in Canada’s adaptive paddling movement, was recently appointed as chairperson of the newly created Adaptive Paddling Committee at Paddle Canada.

The need for adaptive paddling resources in Canada is clear. More than 5.3 million Canadians live with some form of disability that affects their level of freedom, independence or quality of life, according to Statistics Canada.  An estimated 2.7 million of them have a mobility disability that limits their daily activities. In addition, roughly 6 million Canadians have arthritis, and shoulder pain is on of the most common musculoskeletal complaints among Canadian adults, according to one study.

Canadians interested in purchasing adaptive kayaking equipment can visit the Abilities in Motion website at abilitiesinmotion.ca for details on how to take advantage of the discounted pricing available through this new collaboration. They can also visit the AIM site to learn more about the upcoming paddling event in August, Hands Across the Water, which raises funds to support people with disabilities.

——-

Meg McCall, Founder & CEO
Angle Oar LLC 
meg@angleoar.com
(805) 439-3056

US Coast Guard Rescue: Three Friends, Two Dogs, One Flamingo (Video)

“It was the scariest day of my life,” said Holly Spence in an interview with CNN after her traumatic ordeal; an ordeal that involved two close friends, two dogs and one 10-foot pink flamingo.

It was on Spence’s 30th birthday that the trio decided to take the flamingo out for a float close to the shore of Alaska’s White Sands beach in Kodiak.

Spence, along with her roommate and her roommate’s brother, climbed onto the giant inflatable with their two dogs in a shallow area of the beach, anticipating a leisurely float—something that the trio had done in previous years without issue, she said.

“If we get too far out, we notice right away and pull it back,” she said. But on this particular day—a day of clear sky, sunshine and wind—things didn’t go exactly to plan.

Although the group had packed some extra clothes, blankets, snacks and non-alcoholic drinks for supplies, life jackets and paddles didn’t make it onto their packing list. So, when the wind picked up and they were swept further away from the shoreline than they anticipated, things got a little hairy.

“It was a little windy but I never thought in a million years we would be drug out so fast and so far,” she said. The wind and currents proved to be too much for the trio, and they soon found themselves solely at the mercy of the elements.

[ Shop all Safety & Rescue Gear in the Paddling Buyer’s Guide ]

In just under an hour, the group came to a holt on some offshore rocks on the far side of the bay. Alaska State Troopers and US Coast Guard were called, however, the conditions were deemed too treacherous for the boats, so a helicopter hoist was used to rescue the group.

“It was a complete freak accident and we had to be rescued,” Spence said in an interview.

The trio had some scrapes and bumps from the rocks, but luckily no one was seriously injured. “It was the scariest day of my life,” Spence said. “I don’t think i’ll ever do something like this again.”

Pelican International acquires Advanced Elements Inc.

PELICAN INTERNATIONAL INC. ACQUIRES ADVANCED ELEMENTS INC.
PELICAN INTERNATIONAL INC. ACQUIRES ADVANCED ELEMENTS INC.

Laval, Quebec, Canada, June 14, 2021 – As part of its strategic plan, Pelican International Inc., the world leader in the paddle sports industry, acquires Advanced Elements Inc., a pioneer in the inflatable market, through its wholly owned subsidiary Confluence Outdoors LLC. This acquisition broadens Pelican’s portfolio in the paddle sports industry, as it now offers all of its quality products with a complete range of technology, in addition to positioning Pelican as a key player in inflatable watercraft development and innovation.

“This transaction fits perfectly into our strategy to further consolidate our position as a world leader within the paddle sports industry and to offer high-quality and high-performance products to diverse consumers across all ages and backgrounds who want to explore the world outdoors. The Advanced Elements acquisition carves a path forward to help us become the premier brand of inflatable kayaks and SUPs in more than 50 countries. It’s an ideal addition to our product offering to reach our audience across traditional and e-commerce channels,” said Danick Lavoie, President and CEO of Pelican International.

Pelican is excited by the acquisition of Advanced Elements as it provides us with another well-respected and recognizable brand to offer our extensive distribution network in order to meet the fast-growing demand for inflatable kayaks and SUPs. I look forward to this next chapter in our growth strategy,” stated Frederic Guay, Senior Vice-president, Global Sales and Marketing, Pelican International.

“At Advanced Elements we have sought and envisioned this partnership for a long time and are thrilled to join the Pelican International Group with a complete and powerful line-up of products. We wanted a business collaboration that would bring us to the next level and leverage our know-how and leadership position in the inflatable and SUP markets, and we could not hope for a better partner. I am confident that this next phase in our venture will define this market as both our passions for technology and our focus on customer needs will set us apart,” said Clay Haller, Co-founder and President of Advanced Elements.

During the transaction, Reed Smith served as legal counsel to Pelican and Tonkon Torp LLP served as legal counsel to Advanced Elements.

About Pelican International

At Pelican, we are world leaders within the water and nautical sports industry. Renowned for exceptional quality, innovation and expertise, Pelican has become the foremost global authority in the design and manufacture of kayaks, canoes, pedal boats, stand-up paddle boards (SUPs), fishing boats, and watersport accessories. As an international driving force within the industry, we offer both paddle sports and everyday outdoor enthusiasts a diverse array of products through our portfolio of seven well-known brands: Pelican®, Wilderness Systems®,
Perception®, Dagger®, Mad River Canoe®, Harmony Gear®, and Boardworks®.

Pelican has over 935 employees across three manufacturing sites in North America—this strategically located distribution footprint allows our clientele to easily procure kayaks, paddle boards and boats anywhere they choose to enjoy the water. Pelican constantly innovates to
offer the best paddling sports products across all categories and price ranges. Above all, our passionate team seeks to positively impact the lives of outdoor enthusiasts by providing safe pleasure crafts so they can relish the wild beauty of nature while keeping sustainability and social responsibility in mind.

About Advanced Elements Inc.

We at California-born Advanced Elements have the express goal of developing new and unique paddle sports products that enhance customers’ outdoor experience. Our focus is on designing and manufacturing inflatable kayaks with cutting-edge technology and providing excellent customer service. We are deeply involved in product development with patented technology, striving to develop inflatable kayaks, iSUPs, and paddle sports accessories that excel in performance, quality and portability. All of our products have been crafted to give paddlers the tools they need and the value they deserve.

For further information:

Nathalie Rizcalla
VP, HR Corporate & Legal Affairs
communications@pelicansport.com
1-800-463-6960 / 450-664-1222 ext. 278

2020 Was A Record Breaking Year For All The Wrong Reasons

Two whitewater kayakers paddling down rapids.
Charging down the risk spectrum somewhere between consciously and subconsciously competent. | Photo: Kyle Gorenko

I’m excited for spring, and I’m sure you are too. With a year of COVID-19 behind us, we have a better sense of what to expect this paddling season. Last year, we didn’t know what we didn’t know about this pandemic. Now at least, we know what we don’t know.

Last spring, my local area was under stay-at-home orders. Staying local is easy for me as there are iconic paddling options just down the road in Algonquin Park. One of my stand-out memories last May was driving 20 minutes away to a big lake, typically bustling with boat and campground traffic. I was the only person there. As far as I could see—for eight miles—mine was the only boat on the water.

It was beautiful, remarkably peaceful and a little spooky.

Contrast that to summer and fall, when the Covid bump was in full effect. In my area, rental outfitters booked out 100 percent every weekend and 80 percent each weekday. Kayaks and canoes sold out, and retailers and manufacturers had a banner year. Thirty percent more interior camping permits were sold than any year in history. Campgrounds within a few hours’ drive of any urban center were booked solid—every single campsite.

The boom continued months past the usual paddling season. My college guide training whitewater trip in November has never seen another group in the 10 years we’ve run it. This year, there were three other groups on the river at the same time. Unbelievable.

It was a record-setting year by all counts. Algonquin Park had three deaths last summer—one hiker and two canoeists.

One was a first-timer in a rental canoe, swamped in wind waves and drowned wearing a life jacket on a blustery fall day. The other an experienced whitewater canoeist who fell in while scouting a rapid, possibly hitting her head.

Newspapers across North America reported recreation rates, park usage and rescue operations were all up as people stayed and played closer to home.

William S. Howell was a scholar at the University of Minnesota from the 1950s through to the ‘70s. He coined the terms, consciously competent and unconsciously incompetent. These terms are applied to a wide range of topics, but nowhere more so than in outdoor decision-making theory. It has borrowed—plagiarized, really—Howell’s language in safety discussions.

Two whitewater kayakers paddling down rapids.
Charging down the risk spectrum somewhere between consciously and subconsciously competent. | Photo: Kyle Gorenko

The term unconsciously incompetent applies to novices who don’t know what they don’t know. This progresses to consciously incompetent participants, those who know what they don’t know, then to the consciously competent, who are those who know what they know. Finally, enthusiasts become subconsciously competent—competent without having to think about it.

It is easy to slag newbies in the outdoor world, especially with the advantage of hindsight and smugness. Those who work in the outdoor sector genuinely worry about the unconsciously incompetent. We know the road to competency is a long and bumpy one, with few shortcuts. The simple act of paddling a kayak or canoe can open the door to high-risk interactions.

According to the American Whitewater Accident Database, there was an increase of fatalities on rivers last summer involving inexperienced paddlers. Many involved recreational kayaks in fast water or mild rapids, and many of the victims were not wearing life jackets. “This was almost certainly part of the COVID-19 outdoor recreation growth spurt,” says database manager Charlie Walbridge.

Just as interesting to me, however, are the consciously competent. Those who mistake their comfort or complacency with expertise. Within their comfort zone, they are competent, but they failed to recognize when a line was crossed, and they were out of their depth.

SAR helicopter teams were also busy last summer, rescuing paddlers from remote river locations where new paddlers just wouldn’t end up. Whether it was accessible hotspots becoming busier that motivated people to be more ambitious in their outings and strike into unfamiliar territory, or simply that 30 percent more use comes with 30 percent more interaction with the inherent risks of paddling, there were obvious examples in 2020 of people beyond their abilities.

[ Paddling Trip Guide: Take a guided canoe, kayak, SUP or rafting trip this summer to help you become consciously competent ]

Howell indicated those most open to learning are the consciously incompetent and consciously competent—the key being conscientiousness. This summer, we know more about what we don’t know, whether it be about adapting to a pandemic or its effects on outdoor adventure. Competency is our goal, but not necessary. Being conscientious enough to know when we’re playing within our limits, and when we’re not, is what matters.

This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.


Jeff Jackson is a professor of outdoor recreation at Algonquin College near the banks of the Ottawa River.

Charging down the risk spectrum somewhere between consciously and subconsciously competent. |  Photo: Kyle Gorenko