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14 Ways To Plan Your Greatest Kayaking Adventure Ever

Kayaker paddles through red caves
"All of your dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them" - Walt Disney | Photo: Virginia Marshall

Turn your fantasies into reality. We consulted the experts and picked the best paddling pursuits average kayakers can actually pull off.

From touring with giants to taming the surf, here are 14 ways to plan your greatest kayaking adventure ever.

1. Learn to predict the weather

photo: Bryan Hansel
Cloudy with a chance of electrocution. | Photo: Bryan Hansel

The Dream: Anyone can download a weather app on her smartphone. But to forecast accurately beyond the last cell tower, you need a basic understanding of weather systems, local patterns and interactions with shoreline geography in your paddling area.

The Plan: Developing your weather eye is a skill you can hone from the comfort of your couch. Combine readings on weather theory with observations made from your backyard and boat. The key is paying attention for several days at a stretch, so you can recognize patterns: changes in temperature, pressure, wind direction and cloud cover. An excellent resource for coastal kayakers is Navigation, Sea State & Weather: A Paddler’s Manual, published by SKILS. This Vancouver Island-based sea kayak school also offers weather interpretation workshops (www.skils.ca).

2. Turn Your Paddle Into Art

photo: Virginia marshall
Burn only bare wood; treated wood hosts chemicals dangerous to the woodworker. | Photo: Virginia marshall

The Dream: There are few expressions of form meeting function as elegant as a well-crafted paddle (the Jaguar E-Type and Apple iPhone are also on our shortlist). Make your wood blade truly one-of-a-kind by scribing a design, date or inspirational passage into its richly textured grain.

The Plan: If your paddle is finished with varnish or oil, sand the area first. With a pencil, sketch your design onto the wood, and consider stenciling letters unless you have a surgeon’s steady hand. Use a woodburning tool with a fine point for detail work ($16.99, www.walnuthollow.com)—it’s basically a Sharpie with a 950°F tip. Be sure to practice on a similar piece of scrap wood to avoid pyrographer’s remorse.

3. Feast On Wild Edibles

photo: Fredrik Norrsell
Taking backcountry gourmet to a new level. | Photo: Fredrik Norrsell

The Dream: During the short Alaskan summer, coastal areas can offer a veritable buffet of beach greens, kelp, berries, mushrooms, fish and seafood. Expert gourmet foragers and Palmer, Alaska, locals Nancy Pfeiffer and Fredrik Norrsell spend up to three months of the year living off the land (see some of their favorite recipes at www.paddlingmag.com/0015). The couple loads their kayaks with spices, oil, tackle and shrimp pots for their subsistence paddling trips in the Panhandle and Prince William Sound. “It puts me in awe of the earth’s abundance,” says Pfeiffer.

“By eating wild foods, we are intimately linked to the world around us.”

The Plan: Aim to augment— rather than replace—your standard meal plan for your initial foraging adventures. Bring a comprehensive field guide; we like the color photographs, nutrition summaries and recipe ideas inAlaska’s Wild Plants: A Guide to Alaska’s Edible Harvest. For further inspiration, watch for Pfeiffer and Norrsell’s upcoming book detailing their recent 566-nautical mile subsistence kayak journey through southeast Alaska, including mouthwatering photos and recipes (www. nancypfeiffer.com).

4.  Kayak Surfing

Photo: Kevin Light
First rule of surfing: Lean into the wave. | Photo: Kevin Light

The Dream: There’s no better way to learn humility—and stability—in a sea kayak than steering your bow toward shore and waiting for the swell to rise under your stern. Catch the first wave and you’ll have a smile on your face for days. Need help? Let Ginni Callaghan and her team of crack coaches at Sea Kayak Baja Mexico guide you to some of the best waves on the Pacific Coast.

The Plan: Sign up for Callaghan’s next Baja Surf Camp in spring 2020. Held in mid-April, the weeklong event is a celebration of surf, starkly beautiful landscapes, beach life and delicious local cuisine. The camp’s rustic palapas overlook a remote point break where the swell wraps into the bay and is groomed into smooth peelers—ideal waves for aspiring longboat surfers. “We can handle a variety of skill levels,” says Callaghan. “If you know what a brace is and can paddle in 15-knot wind with waves of two to three feet, you’re welcome to join us.” www.seakayakbajamexico.com

5. Build A DIY Gear Cave

Photo: Virginia Marshall
Build wall cradles and roof hangs to make room for more boats. | Photo: Virginia Marshall

The Dream: Keep boats, boards, paddles, tents and bikes organized and out of the elements. Making space for your toys inside the home extends their life and—more importantly—puts them within easy reach for spontaneous grab-and-go adventures.

The Plan: You’ll need an indoor area a few feet longer than your longest boat. A walkout basement, garage or workshop is ideal. Maximize vertical storage along walls and leave the center of the room open for easy ins and outs, boat repairs and other projects.

Shelving systems utilizing a hang rail and slotted uprights are adjustable and sturdy—perfect for storing heavy gear totes. Next, construct a paddle rack using only a couple strips of plywood and a jigsaw to scribe cutouts for the shafts to rest on. Having trouble visualizing this design? Browse Pinterest for inspiration. Finally, build wall-mounted cradles to park up to four boats per wall. Each pair of L-shaped cradles requires eight to

10 feet of 2×4, a handful of screws, and two four-inch-wide strips of carpet. Tweak the dimensions of your L’s to suit your boats—about 21 inches high by 20 inches deep for kayaks measuring less than 23 inches wide.

6. Take Better Trip Photos

Photo: Bryan Hansel
Photos are a return ticket to moments otherwise gone— learn to take good ones. | Photo: Bryan Hansel

The Dream: Go beyond the bow shot. Capture images evoking the stillness and wildness of why we paddle— whether it’s incredible wildlife close-ups, stunning night skies, breathtaking landscapes or heart-pounding action.

The Plan: Stop salivating over Instagram feeds and step up your own skills by shooting with a professional. Lake Superior’s diverse seasons and moods create an ever-changing artistic milieu, while the plethora of water trails, parks and rugged coastline are a paddler’s paradise. Grand Marais, Minnesota-based photographer and sea kayak guide, Bryan Hansel, offers a wide range of photography workshops focusing on the North Shore. Subjects for Hansel’s two-to five-day workshops include spring waterfalls, the Milky Way, autumn gales and, of course, Lake Superior kayak photography (www.bryanhansel.com).

7. Learn To Navigate By The Stars (Polynesian Wayfinding)

Photo: Henry Liu
Second star to the right and straight on to morning. | Photo: Henry Liu

The Dream: Tap into the ancient Polynesian sea voyaging technique of wayfinding: use an outstretched hand, the horizon and the night sky to discern direction and latitude. This millennia-old skill offers modern paddlers a largely forgotten way of navigating— even if most of us never aspire to trans-oceanic journeys.

The Plan: Learn how to use star compasses, meridian pairs and star lines to find cardinal directions and hold a course without any tools aside from your own hands. Here’s an easy exercise to get you started. First, locate the constellation Ursa Major, commonly known as The Big Dipper. Follow the line created by the Dipper’s pointer stars—the two stars forming the side of the bowl opposite the handle—and extend it 25 degrees to find Polaris, called the North Star because it lies near the celestial north pole. Measuring degrees is simple: hold your hand at arm’s length from your face.

Raise your little finger; the width of the tip is about one degree. Your three middle fingers measure five degrees; your clenched fist equals 10 degrees; your outstretched hand from thumb to little finger, 20 degrees. Now use your hand to measure Polaris’ distance from the horizon—this is your northerly latitude. Intrigued? Head to the website of the Polynesian Voyaging Society (www.hokulea.com) for a wealth more information on non-instrument navigation.

8. Get Fishy And Catch Your Dinner

Photo: Virginia Marshall
’Appy meal. | Photo: Virginia Marshall

The Dream: Kayak fishing has blown up in the last decade, with reams of dedicated boats and gear to woo would-be anglers. But don’t trade in your sea kayak for a sit-on-top fishing sled just yet. Learn from the experts to snag supper without sacrificing touring efficiency.

The Plan: The handline is a compact, effective tool for trolling and jigging. Inuit and Aleut hunters pioneered kayak fishing centuries ago using this simple combination of spool and line. Get expert tips and build your own handline rig using our plans (www.paddlingmag. com/0016). For hands-on coaching set against the spectacular backdrop of northern California’s Redwood Coast, join Jason Self, avid kayak angler and owner of Kayak Trinidad. Self’s one-day workshops include all the gear needed to target rockfish, lingcod, cabezon and salmon ($150/person, www.kayaktrinidad.com).

9. African Kayak Safari

Photo: istockphoto.com
Share the water with Earth’s largest land mammal. | Photo: istockphoto.com

Why You Should Go: Botswana’s Okavango Delta is a natural wildlife funnel, drawing an extraordinary diversity and abundance of animals to its life-sustaining waters during the dry season. A multi-day kayaking safari offers the chance for quiet, small group wildlife watching—from observing hippo and giraffes to visiting Chief’s Island, a magnet for the Big Five: lions, leopards, rhino, buffalo and elephants.

Logistics: Dominating the central Delta, the vast floodplains and channels of the Moremi Game Reserve surround Chief’s Island and provide passage for paddlers. Kayaktive Adventure Safaris’ knowledgeable guides lead luxury camping trips from two to 10 days through the heart of the Reserve. During the early part of the winter dry season—from May to August—the 10-day trans Okavango journey traverses some 300 kilometers, guaranteeing fit, adventurous kayakers the wildlife trip of a lifetime. www. kayakbotswana.com

Price: $300–$2,300 USD

10. Visit And learn At The Canadian Canoe Museum

Photo: Virginia Marshall
History comes alive at the Canadian canoe museum. | Photo: Virginia Marshall

Why You Should Go: Currently housed in repurposed, 1960s-era factory buildings, the Canadian Canoe Museum doesn’t look like much from outside. But displayed inside the Peterborough, Ontario, gallery you’ll find traditional canoes and kayaks representing every coast of Canada and from as far away as Asia and the Amazon.

Logistics: This is the perfect time to show your support; a $65M fundraising campaign is underway for development of the museum’s new home astride the city’s historic Trent Severn Waterway. Construction on the 83,000-square-foot, LEED-certified building—designed to emerge from a natural drumlin, complete with living roof and serpentine glass walls overlooking the canal—is expected to begin later this year. When the facility opens in 2021, the museum will at last have a space befitting its world-class collection of 600-plus watercraft and thousands of artifacts, paddles and archives. www.canoemuseum.ca

Price: $12 CAD admission

11. Paddle With Giants And Explore Gwaii Haanas

Photo: Virginia Marshall
Gwai Haanas is located 100 kilometers off the northern British Columbia coast. | Photo: Virginia Marshall

Why You Should Go: Everything is bigger in Haida Gwaii. The remote archipelago’s seafood-scarfing black bears are a unique subspecies of their continental cousins—as well as being the largest of their kind anywhere, the island bears have massive heads and huge molars for chomping clams, crabs, sea urchins and mussels. And don’t forget the trees. Sitka spruce here dwarf the same trees on mainland British Columbia; the biggest boast circumferences of 50 feet and tower over 250 feet high.

Logistics: Haida Gwaii lies 100 kilometers off the coast of northern British Columbia. The southern portion of the island chain is protected as Gwaii Haanas National Park Reserve and Marine Conservation Area, consisting of more than 1,800 islands and islets and the waters surrounding them. Intermediate paddlers can enjoy a week of self-guided exploration in the sheltered passages between Lyell Island and Burnaby Narrows, utilizing water taxi services to access this northern part of the park.

Must-see sites include Tanu, Windy Bay and Hotspring Island where Watchmen—Haida First Nation men and women who look after these sacred spots—invite paddlers to view carved legacy poles and a traditional longhouse, stroll beautiful rainforest footpaths, and soak in the natural thermal pools. www.moresbyexplorers.com

Price: $450 CAD (transportation only)

12. Roll With The Best

Greenland National Kayaking Championship

Why You Should Go: Every July, the Greenland National Kayaking Championship celebrates traditional kayaking skills and the vital role of the qajaq in Greenlandic Inuit culture. The spirit of the weeklong event is one of community before competition—families travel from far-flung villages to reunite with friends and throw one heck of a party. On the icy waters, paddlers in handmade skin-on frame boats demonstrate their athleticism and accuracy in a series of contests ranging from sprint and endurance races to harpoon throwing and, of course, rolling.

Logistics: While most Championships relegate non-athletes to the role of spectator, the inclusive atmosphere of this event means anyone can join the competition—you’ll just need to bring (or borrow) a suitable kayak. Visitors compete in a separate division from locals and can’t vie for the championship crown, but the applause of the crowds is its own reward. To learn more, go to www.qajaqusa.org.

13. Join A Migration Of Pacific Gray Whales

Photo: iStockphoto.com/Missing35mm
Paddle with 30-ton gentle giants. | Photo: iStockphoto.com/Missing35mm

Why You Should Go: Each spring and fall, some 20,000 Pacific gray whales traverse the coast between their summer feeding grounds in the Bering and Chukchi seas, and their calving and wintering grounds in the warm-water lagoons of Baja. With a round trip distance of 10,000 to 14,000 miles, the whales’ journey is one of the longest migrations of any mammal on earth. These 30-ton giants prefer to stay within 2.5 miles of shore, making it easy for well-timed kayakers to join their pilgrimage.

Logistics: Gray whales cover around 75 miles per day, traveling at an average speed of five miles per hour. They are closest to shore—and easiest to spot—during their spring northward migration, which passes the nutrient-rich waters of Monterey Bay, California, in March, April and May. Paddle out of Davenport Landing (10 miles north of Santa Cruz) in early morning for prime whale-watching just a few hundred yards offshore. For kayak rentals and guided tours, contact Venture Quest (www.santacruzkayak.com).

Price: $75 USD

14. Set A Personal Record In The Yukon River Quest

Photo: Harry Kern
Challenge yourself in the Yukon River Quest, a 750-kilometer race from Whitehorse to Dawson City. Photo: Harry Kern

Why You Should Go: Develop the fitness and mental fortitude it takes to finish an epic like the Missouri River 340, Yukon River Quest or Race to Alaska. If you aspire to someday tackle one of these punishing multi-day challenges, dip your toes in the water first with
a suitably merciless half-or full-day race.

Logistics: The 750-mile Race to Alaska is beyond the reach (and inclination) of most mortals, but the first 40 miles out of Port Townsend, Washington, can be raced as a stand-alone sprint—on some of the biggest water in the whole course (www.r2ak.com). Race For The Rivers is an easier 40-miler down the Missouri River, couched in a fun river festival (www.racefortherivers.org). Billed as the longest single-day paddling race in the world, Ontario’s Muskoka River X traverses 130 kilometers on two rivers, three lakes and 20 portages—all in 23:59 or less. Or stick to daylight racing with a 58-kilometer sprint option (www.muskokariverx.com).

Price: $50–$400


Text and Feature photo: Virginia Marshall

The Dreaded Driverless Shuttle For Paddling Trips

car with two kayaks driving on scenic route
No shuttle bunny, no problem | Photo: Ryan Creary

Is the recent article in Car and Driver right in that, “Driverless cars are supposedly imminent”? Inside, thought leader Malcolm Gladwell suggests driverless cars, like smartphones, are going to have unexpected catastrophic consequences.

Engineers and programmers pushing mobile technology couldn’t have foreseen their pocket-sized supercomputers leading to a myriad of social ills, including higher rates of teenage depression and suicide. So where will driverless cars take us?

While kayaks and canoes were once the only modes of transportation long before the invention of the horseless carriage, recreational paddling as we know it has always involved the automobile. Virtually every paddling trip in living memory has involved four wheels, radio, heater, racks, and ropes.

Imagine your first paddling trip in a driverless car

Maybe you’d sit there and enjoy the scenery, but more likely after a few minutes, you’d be answering emails, making grocery lists or editing video. Making good use of the time, you might say. Except driving is already a good use of time.

Say we set out on a paddling trip together. I’m driving and can’t do anything else, so you politely keep me company. For the next two hours, we catch up because we haven’t seen each other since the fall. Gosh, hard to believe it’s been so long. We remember good runs and shitty boats we’ve had over the years. Plans are made for another trip later this month. Friendship is a good use of time.

Enter again the driverless car

Now neither of us needs to be paying attention to the road. We are free to do whatever. We’re on our phones more. We talk less. Ding! Sorry dude, just a sec. Ding! What were you saying about your sister?

Or perhaps we don’t carpool at all. We wouldn’t need to shuttle together because our driverless cars meet us at our final destinations. Thanks for finally solving the shuttle, Google.

Except your Google car hasn’t been upgraded to include the high-definition coordinates for forest access roads. Honda hasn’t coded a traction profile for deeply rutted muddy terrain. Tesla engineers didn’t think to include rooftop sensors for strap vibration so your boats shake lose. Or worse, the ultrasonic bumper sensors don’t register the poplar limb two feet too low to clear the boats above. And answer me this, how are we to thumb rides to put-ins from driverless cars?

Driverless car technology is being sold to us as a convenience

But canoeing, kayaking and standup paddleboarding is not convenient. It’s hot, cold, windy, buggy, off the beaten path, rainy, full of wood, too much swell, and generally more effort than a three-day war of Clash of Clans—how the real intended audience of driverless cars spends their long weekends. It is soulless technology companies ramming automotive automation forward.

.Driving, when you’ve done enough of it, allows for a high-level meditative state

With enough experience you’re able to manage the physical responsibilities of steering and maintaining constant speed at an unconscious level, freeing your mind to wander far from the yellow line. While trees and rocks zoom past at 60 miles per hour our brain waves slow way down.

The Theta state

When brain waves slow down to between four and eight cycles per second, is when we have stronger intuition, we have more capacity for wholeness, profound creativity and complicated problem solving. Basically, the slower our brain wavelengths and the more time between thoughts, the more opportunity there is for us to skilfully choose which thoughts to invest in and what actions we should take. While researchers measure brainwave frequency in hertz, I believe it can also be measured in miles.

Undisturbed by the usual day-to-day external stimulus of smartphones and crying babies, this state of mindfulness is responsible for creative things like this magazine, brave new boat designs, cockamamie expeditions, and very likely, Martin Litton’s plan to save the Grand Canyon or the secret formula for Gore-Tex.

The greatest unintentional consequence of driverless cars will affect the very inventors of them. Not to mention board shapers, adventurers, writers, photographers and athletes—virtually anyone wanting to sift through one idea after another in hopes of finding a creative solution to a problem. Like what should I write in this issue’s Off the Tongue.

Long live the analog road trip, paddling friends and the sacred time behind the wheel, where it’s still illegal in most regions to be on your device. 

Scott MacGregor is the founder and publisher of Paddling Magazine. | No shuttle bunny, no problem | Featured Photo: Ryan Creary 

Should Paddleboard Racers Embrace The 14-Footer?

several paddleboard racers at the starting line

Are You On The 14-Footer Board Side? Or Not?

Debate over which paddleboard length should be the race standard has boiled ever since the 14-foot and 12.5-foot lengths were rather arbitrarily cemented into place in the late 2000s. The argument may finally fizzle and die as some major events have announced men and women will be racing in a 14-foot-and-under category. 

Last fall the Quicksilver Waterman Carolina Cup, one of the biggest races on the global SUP calendar, announced its April Graveyard elite race would see men and women competing on a single class of 14-foot-and-under boards. This left the choice of paddling a 12.5-foot versus 14-foot board up to individual racers, but meant the longer, and therefore faster, 14-footers were the new de facto standard. It also meant elite women will no longer be forced to race on slower 12.5-foot boards. 

“The 14-and-under class is an experiment for the Graveyard at the request of top women paddlers. What we are told is women are tired of racing on slower boards than the ones men are paddling,” said Carolina Cup race director John Beausang prior to the race. “This is more inclusive and will be healthy for the sport.

Beausang’s bold move seems to have tipped the scales. In January 2018, the Gorge Paddle Challenge announced the same decision for its August race. And the International Surfing Association, which is vying with the International Canoe Federation to become paddleboarding’s Olympic governing body, quickly followed with an announcement it will adopt the 14-foot standard starting January 2019. The 10-race EuroTour is already racing with these new standards.

There’s No Consensus On How Racers Ended Up With Two Slightly Different Lengths Of Race Boards In The First Place. Whether it was based on which board lengths were dominant at the time, airline travel restrictions, favoritism toward a particular brand’s offerings, or some other arbitrary measure, early trendsetting races like the 2008 Battle of the Paddle in California set rules still in place today. 

In North America, men tended to race 14-foot boards and the 12.5-foot boards have become largely a women’s class, although crossover between genders on both boards and varying practices in other countries adds to the confusion. 

A decade ago, industry pundits warned two standard board lengths could be bad for the sport. With no authoritative governing body, race organizers were left to come up with their own rules and, in an effort to please everybody, struggled to manage dozens of divisions: 14-foot and 12.5-foot; recreational and elite; men, women and juniors of all ages.

Aspiring Racers Struggled To Decide Which Length Of Board To Get, And Men And Women Were Unable To Swap Paddleboards. “I think having two different but fairly similar board classes is not only totally pointless but actually quite harmful to the sport. It creates fragmentation, frustration and confusion for athletes, event organizers, designers, brands, manufacturers, distributors, retailers and consumers—or in other words, everyone,” writes Christopher Parker, expert paddler and founder of SUP Racer.

I think it’d be easier if we all just agreed to have anything up to 14 feet as the universal standard. Then it would be rainbows and unicorns, and we could finally move on to discussing more important topics.

Back in 2013, former Olympic canoeist Jim Terrell of Quickblade Paddles passionately argued both board lengths should be completely scrapped in favor of a four-meter (13’1”) stock class. He also proposed width, weight and deck height requirements to prevent the sport from becoming “an expensive balancing contest,” where elite paddlers are on boards so lightweight and tippy no average paddler can afford one, let alone stand up on it.  

Unsurprisingly, his proposal never gained traction—it would have rendered every existing race SUP on the planet obsolete—but the debate raged on and those early warnings seem to have come true. 

With rare exception, SUP racing events around the country are shrinking,” paddlemaker Bill Babcock wrote in an online editorial last fall. “The decline in SUP racing looks precipitous. Beausang’s decision was motivated by the same realization. 

“Numbers nationwide are down,” he explains. “We are spread too thinly and working too hard for simple races. Something has to change. I hear it all the time. Right now, there is no governing body stepping up to make a decision. Instead, race organizers have to stick their necks out to test the waters.”

If The 14-And-Under Decision Sticks, Manufacturers And Retailers Will Finally Be Able To Focus On 14-Foot Boards. Of course, the 12.5-foot class will still have its place. Since the race class is 14-and-under, people can still race 12.5-foot boards if they prefer, or as conditions warrant.  

“The 12.5-foot division is best suited for the in-and-out of surf races, and buoy turn races. We also have it designated as our juniors race board length,” says Beausang. “The idea is  under-18 paddlers will remain on 12.5-foot boards and any sales of 12.5-foot boards on the secondary market will lower the cost barrier of entry for kids and juniors getting into the sport.” 

It feels like we may finally have a broad consensus on the path forward,” Parker writes, “and this can only be a good thing for the sport.

Tim Shuff is a firefighter by day, freelance writer by night and competitive paddleboarder on the weekend.

8 Basecamp Essentials For A Paddling Dinner Party

cooking tools for camping

Eureka! Gonzo Grill Portable 3-in-1 Camping Stove

1

Versatile Cook System

Eureka! Gonzo Grill Portable 3-in-1 Camping Stove

$189.95 | eurekacamping.com

Offering the culinary triumvirate of griddle, grill and stovetop cooking, Eureka’s Gonzo Grill Cook System is one of the most versatile compact systems on the market. It features a cast iron griddle top for pancakes, which flips over to create a grill surface for burgers and steaks, and it also functions as a stove for sauteing veggies and boiling water. The Gonzo Grill offers advanced simmer control and a port for adding additional stoves to really get the party started. At 14 pounds, it’s ideal for tailgating, car camping and basecamps populated by foodies.

SHOP AMAZON

GSI Outdoors Stainless Base Camper - 3 Piece Cookset

2 All-In-One Kitchen Kit

GSI Outdoors Stainless Base Camper – 3 Piece Cookset

$89.95 | gsioutdoors.com

An organized kitchen system is the stuff daydreams are made of. GSI’s new Glacier Stainless Camper is the complete package, boasting nesting tableware and stainless steel cookware designed to eliminate the guesswork of packing for four. It includes: two pots, a frying pan, four insulated mugs with lids which can double as bowls, and four plates. We love the thoughtful details, like a strainer integrated into pot lids, a pot gripper which remains attached while cooking, and a welded sink which doubles as the stuff sack. This kit is sure to please outdoor gourmands.

SHOP AMAZON

 

Camp brand goods mug
Camp Brand Goods’. | Photo: Matt Stetson

3 Statement Mug

$27 CAD | campbrandgoods.com

A hip mug is as good for the soul as it is for your Instagram page. Camp Brand Goods’ line of trendy and attractive enamel mugs is sure to put a smile on any camper’s face. Each is made of cast iron and hand-dipped in enamel; you can heat it over an open flame and pop it into the dishwasher later. At 500 ml it’s excellent for a fireside cocktail or a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

SHOP AMAZON

KingCamp KC3961_Silver Camping Table, 27.5"×27.5"×27.1"

4 Folding Table

KingCamp Camping Table (27.5″×27.5″×27.1″)

$69.99 CAD | sail.ca

From van life to backcountry base camping, a folding table gives a classy and ergonomically friendly touch to any campsite. KingCamp’s heavy-duty collapsible table offers a spacious tabletop and enormous 176-pound weight capacity—pile on! Measuring 28 by 28 inches and just over two feet tall, this design accommodates four campers and their hearty dinners. Both tabletop and legs fold up into a compact carrying bag for easy transport. Don’t expect all this convenience to come ultralight though—the steel and aluminum table weighs in at nine pounds.

SHOP AMAZON

 

Handpresso pump
Handpresso pump. | Photo: Matt Stetson

5 Coffee To Go

$115 | handpresso.com

Calling all java addicts. Roll out of your tent and into the comforting arms of a fine espresso thanks to the unique Handpresso pump. To use, pump the unit up to the green bar, pour in boiling water and fill the dome pod with ground coffee. Then lock on the lid and press out your high-quality brew. The Handpresso works off pressure, so no batteries are needed. Yes, this unit weighs a pound more and involves a few more steps than simply dropping a spoonful of instant into hot water, but you’ll overlook that fact after your first taste.

SHOP AMAZON

GSI Santoku Knife Set.

6 Gourmet Knife Set

GSI Outdoors, Santoku Knife Se

$29.95 |gsioutdoors.com

A chef’s knife is the most important tool in the kitchen, so stop making your dull pocket knife work overtime. The GSI Santoku Knife Set includes a paring knife, Santoku blade and six-inch serrated knife. Its compact, stainless steel blades are rockered for kitchen prep and take care of all our slicing and dicing needs. We love the included cutting board, bottle for soap and dish cloth, which are all kept organized inside a handy carrying case.

SHOP AMAZON

Coghlan's Camp Cooker

7 S’more Maker

Coghlan’s Camp Cooker

$16.99 | coghlans.com

Sure, you could toast sandwiches, grill meat and make awesome tiny pies over an open fire with Coghlan’s Camp Cooker, but where this little tool really shines is in its s’more-making potential. Don’t settle for just graham crackers, marshmallow and chocolate—bring in the gourmet options, like peanut butter, Nutella and M&Ms. The Camp Cooker is made from lightweight aluminum and a two-part hinge makes it simple to use and easy to clean.

SHOP AMAZON

the instant gourmet
Good To-Go’s. | Photo: Matt Stetson

8. The Instant Gourmet

$6.50 and up | goodto-go.com

For those hungry campers who want to eat gourmet right now, Good To-Go’s dehydrated instant meals are healthy and delicious. The goal of chef Jennifer Scism is to make meals to suit all diets, so all products are gluten-free, low in sodium, and made without preservatives. Several vegan and vegetarian options are also offered. While Good To-Go offers classic stick-to-your-rib entrees like three-bean chili and red sauce penne, they’ve also bagged less conventional fare, like Indian curries, Thai noodles and Korean bibimbap.

SHOP AMAZON

What It Looks Like To Paddle Amongst Lava

lava pouring out of a volcano into the river causing lots of steam
Photo: Kalob Grady

The second youngest of the Hawaiian volcanoes breaks the surface of the ocean along the southern shores of The Big Island.

Erupting almost continuously since the early 1980s, Kilauea is one of the most active volcanoes on the planet and occasionally creates a true spectacle of water and fire.

On my most recent trip to Hawaii, Dane Jackson, Rafa Ortiz, Nick Troutman and I came across a news story stating one of Kilauea’s lava tubes was pouring molten lava out of the sea cliffs, creating a lava waterfall as the magma plummeted into the salty ocean below.

We wanted to bear witness to the natural phenomenon for ourselves. We chartered a local tour boat and made the mission 20 miles up the coastline from the closest access point, careful to assure our captain we knew what we were doing while intending to paddle as close as possible to the base of the falls.

Our captain was Hawaiian and arranged for us to go explore what he called the “firehose” at a time when no other tour boats would be in the area. We followed the sea cliffs from east to west as dolphins surfed our wake and performed aerial acrobatics.

It was visible where the relentless ocean waters had eroded the sea cliffs, large jigsaw pieces had fallen into the depths below, and where past lava flows had reached the ocean to grow the island.

We saw a few locations where the lava flow had stopped and the lava tubes had sealed themselves. Then we were no longer looking at the shoreline.

Ahead of us, shooting thousands of feet into the sky was a massive billowing plume of white steam, the reaction of molten hot plasma meeting the cool ocean waters below. We urged the captain to drive quicker as we frantically moved to put our gear on. We rounded the final corner and laid eyes on the most incredible natural display of power I have ever had the pleasure of seeing.

lava pouring out of a volcano into the river causing lots of steam
Photo: Kalob Grady

The captain kindly gave us one hour to explore the area. We seal launched off the boat in a frenzy.

We spent the majority of our time hooting and hollering, paddling as close to the lava falls as we dared. The murky brown water was almost boiling.

Small porous rocks often exploded out of the base of the falls as the lava cooled, and after a particularly close call of lava rocks pelting my boat, I paddled back over to our ship, jumped in and pulled out my camera.

Nick and Rafa, lifelong friends, were still sitting together in the water, taking in the final moments of a once in a lifetime opportunity. I snapped this photo before the moment was lost forever.

Lava flows, earthquakes and slumping caused by Kilauea devastated Hawaii’s Big Island in the spring of 2018. At press time, some 6,100 acres were covered in lava and 700 homes destroyed.

Get The Kids Paddling

Doug MacGregor in a kayak practicing his roll

Last fall I attended the first Get Kids Paddling conference. There were representatives from the largest school boards, national nonprofits, international boys and girls organizations and academics from the most prestigious university outdoor programs.

You get the idea. These people care. They would seemingly have the means to make a change, if systemic institutional and cultural change is even possible in these overly protective and litigious times.

After a day of lectures, presentations and breakout groups we left the room agreeing to form a coalition to advise the development of policies implemented by regulatory bodies writing the physical education guidelines for school boards.

Starting a canoe club

As this school year was coming to an end, my son, Doug, had the idea of organizing a canoeing day grade eight class trip. I need to set the stage for you. Access to a quiet flatwater section of river is only 800 meters from the school. The Paddler Co-op, a nonprofit paddling school, is based three kilometers from Doug’s classroom. It doesn’t get any easier.

Doug knows money is tight in his tiny country school. He approached a vested corporate sponsor about covering the cost of the canoeing program. He called the Paddler Co-op for a quote and I agreed Paddling Magazine would cover the full course fees for the entire class.

Doug knew school buses would be a prohibitive expense, so he devised a plan and got his teacher onboard. The students could be dropped off at school early so they could walk an hour to the paddling school.

For the mandatory swim test, Doug had his teacher document swim test evaluations performed by lifeguards at a wave pool during an earlier school trip. Clever little fella.

Armed with initiative, the support of his teacher and a list of obstacles already overcome he approached his principal with his slam-dunk proposal.

When he left her office he was fighting back tears. In his hands was a copy of the six-page physical education safety guidelines for elementary canoeing curricular.

The very guidelines members of the Get Kids Paddling coalition believe is crippling their ability to get kids on the water.

Doug was told he must satisfy all 132 bullet points in these guidelines before his principal would take his request to her superintendent—she wouldn’t support this program and wouldn’t sign off on the activity without school board approval.

I don’t care what activity is being proposed if a student comes forward with this much initiative, our administrators need to play ball. Self-starting student ambition like this needs to be fostered, not crushed by bureaucracy and risk-averse, lazy-minded administrators.

So, Doug and I set about satisfying the requirements. Except as written they are impossible to achieve. For example, the guidelines read: “Prior to canoeing, a prerequisite test must occur in a pool, shallow water, or sheltered bay for which students must demonstrate to the instructor canoe skills, including: pivots, draw and pry strokes, sweep strokes, forward and reverse strokes…” Etcetera, etcetera.

So, how the hell can students demonstrate strokes before they go canoeing, if they can’t go canoeing until they demonstrate these strokes? 

As I write this, Doug is attending summer camp for his eighth summer. He’s been canoe tripping and running rivers with me since he was in diapers. He grasped the fundamentals of canoeing long before he could spell canoeing.

A few months ago, Doug and I attended the East Coast Paddlesports Symposium in South Carolina. Doug enrolled himself in on-water clinics. He learned Greenland rolling skills with Helen Wilson. And he toured Charleston Harbor with ACA instructor trainer Josh Hall. He doesn’t know these are respected paddlers at the top of their fields. To Doug these were just passionate and empowering role models.

Doug wasn’t putting together the paddle day at his school for himself. Like the Get Kids Paddling coalition and his mentors at the symposium, Doug was hoping to get the other 19 boys and girls paddling. He has dreams of starting an outdoors club at the high school.

I have one more reason to get kids paddling to add to the list:

So kids can get other kids paddling. We need to tear up the bullshit restrictions we are placing upon them, feed their dreams and stay out for their way. If we’re lucky we’ll get to go with them. At least until adult supervision is no longer required.

Scott MacGregor is the founder and publisher of Paddling Magazine. 

A 17-Year Olds’ First Solo Trip Terror

man standing on an island with a canoe
Just me, myself and I. | Photo: Mike Monaghan

People kept saying I was foolish and stupid and irresponsible to quit my job every spring to go roaming in a canoe…but come spring, I’d leave. I had no sense of rebellion. I just had to go canoeing.

Where others would choose Shakespeare or Winnie the Pooh, I quoted those words from famed canoeist Bill Mason in my high school yearbook.

As an earnestly outdoorsy teenager, my dream was to do a solo canoe trip. When I finally went, I realized I’d had no idea what it would be like. I hadn’t yet learned that’s how dreams are.

My chance came in 1989 when I was 17 years old. I had been preparing for years. At 15, I built a 13-foot solo cedarstrip canoe (see all solo canoes in the Paddling Buyer’s Guide). The day I turned 16 I applied for my driver’s licence. All winter I bored my parents with unsubtle hints about what I intended to do with the newly minted licence in my wallet. They finally agreed to loan me the family Oldsmobile three days after exams for a solo canoe trip in Algonquin Park.

I felt like a hero driving up Highway 11, the canoe firmly tied down, Neil Young, David Wilcox and The Cult blasting on the stereo. I had my own canoe, a car and three days of food and camping gear. I was free.

At the put-in, my fantasies were assaulted by a cloud of blackflies. The bugs made the first portage part backwoods blood donor clinic, part primal therapy. Going solo means there’s nobody to share the pain.

I picked up my pace and forged on. Spurred on by the flies and an increasing angst I had yet to notice, I blazed through the first day of my route in a matter of hours and reached my scheduled campsite by lunch.

My leisurely schedule worked well. Too well. It completely backfired

That’s where things started, imperceptibly, to unravel. I had imagined it would be hard to do all the camp chores myself. So I had planned a short route with more time than usual to do all the tasks that are normally shared among a group.

man standing on an island with a canoe
Just me, myself and I. | Photo: Mike Monaghan

I had also allowed time for the quiet contemplation of nature’s majesty, since everybody knows that’s the great reward of solo tripping. Bill Mason likened the wilderness to a church, and I expected the solo experience to be a kind of rapture I would want to revel in.

My leisurely schedule worked well. Too well. It completely backfired, in fact. Eating lunch at my first campsite, I faced the challenge of what to do with the remaining 10 hours of daylight. Might as well continue paddling—just a little bit further.

Before long I arrived at the campsite I had planned for night two. This time I set up camp. I chose the site carefully—an island that was too small for bears—and set my tent right by the fire pit. I laid out my sleeping bag and my clothes. No, the clean underwear over here, next to the flashlight and the toilet paper, and a jackknife in the right tent pocket. That’s right. Then I unpacked my food and cooked some pasta, washed my dishes and put them away and hung up my food. I gathered a pile of firewood and looked at my watch.

It was only 4:30 p.m. and the sun was still high. It was one of the longest days of the year. Better make sure I’m ready for dark.

so I panicked. And then an impulsive, subconscious calculation told me what was clearly possible if I just kept moving

So I gathered more firewood and broke it into foot-long pieces. Then I stacked the pieces into piles sorted by diameter. Then I sat down and settled in for some of that quiet contemplation I’d been looking forward to. Ohmmm. Which is when I discovered that my skittish 17-year-old mind had no interest in quiet contemplation.

The wilderness was like a church all right. EXACTLY like a church, like a huge creepy vastness haunted by an otherworldly stillness. I might as well have locked myself up in an empty Notre Dame Cathedral with a “do not disturb” sign on the door. The thought of five more hours of ear-ringing nothingness, to be followed by more of the same in total darkness, felt to me like being slowly asphyxiated by silence.

I am going to die.

And so I panicked. And then an impulsive, subconscious calculation told me what was clearly possible if I just kept moving.

Within 20 minutes I had broken camp and was back on the water, now entering the territory of day three. Another portage, a few more klicks of paddling and I was back to the car. I threw my still clean gear into the trunk and tied the canoe down in a fly-addled frenzy, then sped away with the windows down to blast away the bugs.

By nightfall I was exiting the drive-thru, a Big Mac warm in my palm, and before midnight I pulled back into the driveway at home. My parents were asleep and I found my sister on the couch watching The Arsenio Hall Show.

Just act natural.

I walked in and sat down. When she asked me what I was doing there, I said, I finished my whole route. So I decided to come home.

[View all the new boats and gear in the Paddling Buyer’s Guide]

Tim Shuff eventually slowed down and enjoyed a solo trip of 25 days, measured by time, not distance. This story originally appeared in the 2008 issue of Canoeroots. Recirc is a new column sharing some of our favorite stories from the first 20 years of Rapid, Canoeroots, and Adventure Kayak.

Just me, myself and I. | Featured Photo: Mike Monaghan

Kayaker Matt Pruis’ 20-Day Race To Alaska

Matt Pruis smiling in a kayak

First place gets $10,000. Second place gets a set of steak knives. Those are the only two prizes for racers in the 750-mile Race To Alaska, a sprint up the Inside Passage open to any type of non-motorized craft.

Kayaker Matt Pruis completed the race for a second time on July 7, 2018, just one of four kayakers to do so in the race’s four-year history. Only 53 percent of racers complete the arduous journey.

According to United States customs officers, Pruis’ 2017 speedy journey tied with an unknown non-racing paddler from Idaho, setting an unofficial 20-day speed record for the 750-mile journey from Port Townsend, Washington, to Ketchikan, Alaska. Though he says he learned a lot from his first race, this year was still challenging. Pruis battled winds, swells and exhaustion. Pruis paddled it all strictly under his own steam, refusing even a sail.

“I like the challenge of that. Maybe it’s dumb stubbornness,” he says.

Why Race To Alaska?

It’s a tremendous adventure through a fantastically beautiful landscape. The race itself is a fun group, a collection of classic northwest mariner offshoots—people from all over, but with a Northwest flavor. Three or four teams are racing hard to win; everyone else is there for the journey. And when you’re doing it, there are all kinds of people who are supporting you and cheering you on. It’s something bigger than just yourself.

What Was Different In 2018?

My gear. This year I set up for an elegant dance between paddling and some portaging to explore more country. Last year was about testing navigation and whether I had the skills to complete the race. This year, I just wanted to have as much of an adventure as I could. I knew I wasn’t going to win so I didn’t have to worry about my time. Unfortunately, my kayak cart broke on the third portage. That was the most challenging part of the race for me, and it took a few days to get right about it and engaged again.

When Did You Have The Best Experiences?

The wildlife was outstanding this year. I can’t count how many humpback and minke whales I saw breaching, feeding and slapping their tails. In such a tiny boat I started to wonder if I might fit in those giant mouths. Second best aspect is the people. There’s a community of incredible sailors who aren’t part of the race but know it’s going on, people who were watching out for me, and that was fantastic.

Who Should Race To Alaska?

The race is such an amazing experience because you have the opportunity to visit these places but also test yourself against the environment and your decision making. Know your limits coming in. Research and understand the tides. And go with a team—racing solo is a much higher risk though it’s very doable. What I missed most is being about to look over my shoulder at someone and say, “Hey, did you see that?!”

Where To Next?

My TRAK kayak was the only boat in the race that could be folded up, checked on an airplane as baggage and flown home. Instead, my wife, youngest daughter and I took a ferry to Kitimat, British Columbia for 10 more days of sea kayaking.

Paddling Awareness Projects: Love ’em or Loathe ’em?

man paddling in the distance from a beach

At the time of writing this article, it’s May. Perhaps you’re aware it’s Arthritis Awareness Month, Hepatitis Awareness Month, Food Allergy Action Month and Clean Air Month.

The month of May is also home to National Wildflower Week, Screen-Free Week, Teacher Appreciation Week, the National Twilight Zone Day, National Bike To School Day, National Frog Jumping Day and World Naked Gardening Day.

Hold on, I’m not done.

May Boasts 29 Internationally Recognized Awareness Days

In the 31 days of May, there’s a whopping 175 additional awareness days and observances recognized in the United States, according to Nationalcalendarday.com. The date of May 31 is known as both National Smile Day and Necrotizing Fasciitis Awareness Day, among others.

May isn’t an outlier. Nationalcalendarday.com tracks a whopping 1,500 national awareness days, weeks and months jammed into the same 365-day, 52-week and 12-month year you and I plan our lives around.

In the Paddling Magazine editorial office, we’ve been getting pitches almost daily from adventurers embarking on one type of awareness-raising expedition or another. We’ve received queries from paddlers looking to raise the profile of important issues like plastic pollution, habitat destruction, poverty, gender equality, autism, fishery health and diabetes. Just to name a few.

You’re probably familiar with expeditions just like this. Heck, there’s even a few profiled in the pages of this very issue. It’s not just paddling expeditions bingeing on awareness—through social media and news outlets, we see a slew of awareness-raising campaigns, events and days bundled up with pithy hashtags for every conceivable topic.

Thanks to hashtag activism, we’re living in what some have termed the golden age of awareness raising.

I Respect Everyone Paddling Off On Awareness-Raising Journeys

—I support any and all reasons to get on the water, anytime and anywhere.

The problem is for any paddler looking to make change, awareness-raising alone often hasn’t proven to be an effective solution. For real change awareness must turn into action, and most of us get lost in the intervening chasm.

In the 1980s, social scientists popularized the information deficit model. It’s the notion stating if only the public had the right information, conveyed in a way we could understand, we’d make better choices. But we all know it’s not this simple.

If it was this simple, we’d eat more kale. I’d stop spooning Ben & Jerry’s before bedtime. North America wouldn’t be crushed under an obesity epidemic. No one would smoke. Texting while driving wouldn’t be a thing.

We’d all meditate daily and exercise for 30 minutes or more, five times a week. And we’d stop looking at our damn smartphones because we know doing so makes us more stressed out. And these are just the simple changes we could make for our own personal benefit. Just being educated isn’t enough to catapult us into doing anything about it.

Take, For Example, The Cause At The Crosshairs Of More Than Half-A-Dozen Awareness-Raising Expeditions Queried In My Inbox—The Problem Of Plastic Pollution In The Ocean. Here are some startling facts: More than 40 percent of plastics are only used once, then trashed. Plastic makes up approximately 90 percent of all trash floating on the ocean’s surface. And it’s estimated 88 percent of ocean surfaces are polluted with plastic to some extent. Terrible, right?

According to Google News, plastic pollution has been the topic of more than 2.6 million news articles. There’s been 1,600 news reports in the mainstream media about the garbage patch twice the size of Texas circulating in the Pacific Ocean. The average citizen with even a passing interest in current events would have to be wilfully avoiding these stories to be unaware plastic isn’t so fantastic. I’d argue the average water lover and sea kayaker is likely even more aware of the threat plastic poses to the world’s oceans, even if they’re unaware of the horrifying global statistics.

Awareness Raising Is A Woolly Business—

what does awareness mean anyway, how do you know when you’ve raised enough and how do you measure its success? The real aim of a successful campaign should be to pair awareness with action-based solutions. This is what good marketers do, and they achieve it by creating an emotional connection between consumer and product with a strong call to action. It’s what so many awareness-raising expeditions fail to do.

On her 1,000-kilometer journey around Wales (featured on page 174), paddleboarder Sian Sykes did more than raise awareness—she asked the hundreds of people she met on her expedition to make an on-the-spot pledge to stop using one single-use plastic item. Providing a first-person connection and a solution begins to bridge the cavernous divide between knowing there’s a problem and doing something about it.

There’s No Shortage Of Examples Of Paddlers Taking Matters In Their Own Hands. Last year Michael Anderson and Paul Twedt picked up 1,000 pounds of garbage—mattresses, glass bottles, Styrofoam and a hell of a lot of plastic—on a 300-mile trip on the Minnesota River. The duo’s mission was furthered by America’s Adventure Steward Alliance and another 2,200 miles of the watershed was cleaned up removing another 5,300 pounds of trash. Paddlers across the country were inspired by the story to clean up their own local waterways.

To tackle a proposed sulphide ore mine on the edge of the Boundary Water Canoe Area Wilderness, explorers Amy and Dave Freeman lived in the BWCA for 365 days, sharing their trip by canoe and dog sled with school kids across the country via their virtual Wilderness Classroom platform. They reached grown-ups through their blog, podcast, videos and social media. Their awareness raising had a very specific goal and outlined some of the steps needed—sign a petition and contact your representatives—to save the Boundary Waters.

Awareness raising works to an extent. Informing people of a concern is the first step to changing how institutions handle an issue. Usually, raising awareness is the first activity an advocacy group engages in. When people don’t know there’s a problem, how can they fix it?

Change Starts With Awareness

Then solutions are needed. Which could encompass everything from fundraising, protesting, volunteering, lobbying, researching, policy making, citizen science and working with already established organizations—the list goes on. We’re hungry for easy solutions to make a big difference. Just clicking share doesn’t often count.

In the golden age of awareness raising, it’s certainly not awareness we’re lacking. We’re saturated with it. Without deed to back us up, raising awareness is little more than a hashtag on a plastic boat lost in a sea of 500 million tweets per day.

Kaydi Pyette is the managing editor of Paddling Magazine. She has given up the use of single use plastic water bottles. The frogs she’s been training for National Frog Jumping Day are living in habitats created with natural and recycled materials.

Why We Must Paddle Away To Protect Manatees

man paddle boarding above a manatee
Photo: Paul Nicklen

Six years ago, a National Geographic expedition took photographer Paul Nicklen to Florida’s Three Sisters Springs on the Crystal River, 70 miles north of Tampa. He was there to document the interaction between an increasing number of tourists and the river’s migratory manatees. The river is prime habitat thanks to more than 50 active springs keeping the water a constant 72°F, warming the manatees through winter months.

Manatee-seeking tourists and swim-with-the-manatees tours are a big business in Florida, generating between $20 and $30 million a year.

More than 40 tour operators work in the Crystal River area, alongside manatee-themed gift shops and restaurants. In addition to all this income, manatee tourism has generated some controversy. Manatees annually attract 450,000 people to Florida, most to the Crystal River National Wildlife Refuge. In March of 2016, an estimated 1,200 snorkelers visited the refuges’  Three Sisters Springs Sanctuary in one 24-hour period.

While manatees are curious and some engage with tourists, most prefer to spend their days catching some shuteye.

Manatees spend half the day napping—and hoovering down 10 percent of their body weight in aquatic plants. Motorboats are not allowed inside the Three Sisters Springs Sanctuary, however canoeing, kayaking and swimming with the 10-foot-long, 1,500-pound docile creatures is legal so long as the animal isn’t being touched or harassed, and people stay out of the buoyed restricted areas.

man paddle boarding above a manatee
Photo: Paul Nicklen

What people fail to acknowledge is the manatees are not here for our amusement, they’re here for their survival, says Matt Clemons, board member of Savethemanatees.org and owner of local outfitter Aardvark’s Florida Kayak Co., which offers small group kayaking tours, but not the more lucrative swim-with-the-manatee tours. In the colder months, when the manatees rely on the springs for survival, they can’t leave the warm water to escape the tourist swarm if stressed—if they do, they’re in danger of cold exposure and boat traffic, both a major contributor to manatee mortality.

Many of Florida’s 6,000 manatees bear scars from collisions with motorboat propellers, says Clemons

“The way we justify this type of tourism is to say if you allow people close access to the animals they will want to better protect them, but there’s no scientific studies that actually prove it,” says Clemons. “The data here is showing the more acclimated to humans the manatees become, the more likely they are to put themselves in harm’s way.”

In the six years since Nicklen took this photo, ramped up conservation efforts, restored habitat and motorboat speed limits near the springs resulted in a record number of manatees in 2016, and the animals were removed from the endangered species list.

The best way to appreciate manatees is from a respectful distance.

Natural manatee behavior can be disrupted by humans who approach manatees too closely. People should never approach, chase, surround, touch, disturb, ride or poke manatees,” says Clemons. “By observing manatees at a distance we have the best chance to observe natural behaviors, giving us a glimpse into their lives.

To get this shot, Nicklen was scuba diving in approximately eight feet of water, shooting with a Canon 1DX in a Nauticam housing. He used two strobes on camera arm extenders to crosslight the manatee.


Paul Nicklen is a National Geographic photographer and co-founder of SeaLegacy, an organization dedicated to protecting oceans via visual storytelling. www.sealegacy.com.