Paddleboarder Rescues Man Who Fell Through Ice On Jet Ski (Video)

By

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January 9, 2025

On December 26, 2024, on Long Island, New York, a man rode his jetski onto a semi-frozen part of Poopspastuck Creek, and broke through the ice. Witnessing from her window, 28-year-old Kayla Masotto was quick to action, tossing a jacket over her pajamas and grabbing her paddleboard.

Her younger sister filmed while Masotto took to the ice.

Harrowing ice rescue by paddleboarder on Poopspastuck Creek

“I was putting my weight on the front of my board and pushing hard,” Masotto shared in an interview.

In the video shot by Masotto’s younger sister, Masotto quickly works through the best method to get herself and her paddleboard across the ice and out to the victim without breaking through the ice herself. She begins by laying prone on the board and attempting to scoot. Masotto quickly finds that to be ineffective and switches to a different tactic.

Masotto then tries to scoot from the kneeling position on the board before switching tactics again, opting to put her weight on her hands on the board and use her legs to propel her and the board across the ice.

When Masotto reached the man, she used her paddle to help pull him toward her paddleboard. Kneeling and keeping a low center of gravity on the paddleboard, Masotto held her board steady while the man climbed out of the water and onto the front of her paddleboard, also keeping low to the board with Masotto’s help.

Other rescuers from the nearby marina joined Masotto on the ice with paddlecraft of their own, and tossed Masotto and the victim a rope to pull them off the ice and to safety.

“His hands, fingers, legs, his whole body was numb,” Masotto said. “He had let me know that he really thought he was gonna die.”

“Kayla just saved this man’s life,” Masotto’s younger sister says at the end of the video she filmed of the ordeal.

After rescue, Masotto and other good samaritans honored in a ceremony

Masotto and the other rescuers were recently honored by first responders in a ceremony, where Masotto met with the man she had saved and his family.

“He brought me flowers and said that I was his guardian angel,” said Massotto.

According to the Mastic Fire Department, at 12:30 p.m. on December 26, the department was activated for a cold water rescue at Poopspastuck Creek. Thanks to Masotto and the other good Samaritans on the scene, the victim was recovered from the water and experiencing the early effects of hypothermia as first responders rallied to the scene, according to a post on Facebook.

“This is what I want the message to be going into 2025,” Kayla shared in an interview. “We all need to look out for each other and help each other.”

While Masotto’s quick thinking and bravery saved a life, the incident highlights safety measures every paddler should follow: Always wear a PFD, dress for immersion, and use a leash on your paddleboard. These precautions not only help ensure your safety but also your ability to help others in an emergency.

Feature Image: Kayla Masotto shares the story of the ice rescue. Inside Edition | YouTube

Kayakers Rescue Pilot From Ice Covered Creek (Video)

Alpacka Raft Launches New Mage Whitewater Packraft

By

Paddling Magazine Staff

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January 8, 2025

New Alpacka Rafts Mage descends waterfall — The new Alpacka Rafts Mage tackles a waterfall. | Feature photo: courtesy Alpacka Rafts

Alpacka Raft has launched the all new Mage, a packable whitewater packraft designed for intermediate to advanced whitewater along with updates to four other Alpacka lineups in their 2025 updates.

Colorado-based Alpacka Raft was founded in 2000 by Sheri and Thor Tingey, a mother and son team, and the rafts are designed and handmade in Mancos, Colorado.

“The Mage represents the pinnacle of our passion and ingenuity. It’s light, lightning-fast, and handles large whitewater incredibly well,” shared Thor Tingey, Alpacka Raft CEO and co-founder. “We are already inspired by what paddlers are doing with it, and we can’t wait to see where they take it next.”

The new Alpacka Raft Mage cuts weight while retaining speed and volume

The Mage sports a whitewater-style hull and the best of the performance features from the Valkyrie V3, culminating in the most responsive, fastest and smoothest traditional whitewater packraft from Alpacka Raft yet, according to a press release.

Despite having increased cargo capacity compared to the Valkyrie, the Mage weighs less than the Valkyrie at 10.7 lbs with the self-bailer, or 11.75 lbs with the whitewater deck compared to the Valkyrie at 13.9 lbs. A narrow and longer hull on the new Mage makes for a longer waterline, increasing speed and improving tracking.

Additionally, the Mage sports a slight increase in bow and stern rocker and a one-piece dropped floor with a full-length inflatable pad. Paddlers can expect this to boost edging, secondary stability and efficiency compared to the Valkyrie without sacrificing speed, according to Alpacka. The Paddling Mag teams look forward to field testing the Mage in Spring 2025.

The Mage is available both in a whitewater deck and self-bailing configuration. Pricing starts at $1,600.

Other changes for Alpacka Raft in 2025

In addition to introducing the new Mage whitewater pack rafting design, Alpacka Raft has also updated the Caribou, Expedition, Refuge, and Gnarwhal designs. The Wolverine model has been replaced. Meanwhile, the long-longest-running Alpacka Raft packraft, the Classic, has been retired.

“Our packraft lineup includes a model for every paddler type. We are continuing to move forward and push the limits on design while providing options for everyone,” said Tingey. “From mellow river runs and fishing trips to demanding backcountry outings and challenging whitewater, and everything in-between, our lineup delivers something special for everyone who wants to use a packraft to access locations they otherwise couldn’t.”

man holding a kayak paddle and wearing paddling gear

6 Essential Packrafting Items You Need For Fall

Combating “Shrink It And Pink It”

By

Maddy Marquardt

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January 7, 2025

In November 2024, Level Six launched the Freya Drysuit Design Feedback Survey, seeking input on measurements, fit and stories from paddlers who have experiences with women’s or non-unisex drysuits.

In all, 480 people filled out the survey, representing a niche population of an already niche sport — women’s drysuit users. According to Morgan Lirette from the Level Six team, the average user spent a half hour filling out the survey and a variety of age groups and skill levels were represented.

Kokatat launched the first women’s paddling drysuit in 1995. Today, every major drysuit manufacturer makes at least one women’s option. After 30 years of innovation and refinement in women’s drysuits, what’s unique about Level Six’s initiative is that they’re collecting user-driven data and hundreds of personal anecdotes about how drysuit fit has affected women as data for future updates to their drysuit line.

“We can’t say we’re creating accessible and inclusive gear unless we’re looking at who our gear actually fits, and does it actually fit and work for our clientele,” shared Lirette.

“Making a drysuit that has a better fit doesn’t necessarily mean that more people are going to buy it… but for people who really are looking for a drysuit that is well thought-out and has fit in mind it is going to be a game changer, more than just owning drysuit that gives you the ability to paddle,” Lirette added.

“Shrink it and pink it” in outdoor sports

Many sports come from a long legacy of “shrink it and pink it”, or the practice of taking products designed for and often by men, scaling those products down in size and making them pink or traditionally “feminine” without actually altering the product design to meet the needs of users. While the outdoor industry has made efforts to better consider the distinct needs of female paddlers, there is still a long way to go when it comes to leveling the playing field.

Image from the Level Six Freya Drysuit survey — “Womens gear is changing,” reads the landing page on the Drysuit Design Feedback Survey. | Image courtesy Level Six

Anecdotally, the most common gripes women report are that their drysuits fit too tightly in the hips, bust, and thighs. Or, when a drysuit does fit in those places, some report excess fabric length-wise or in height.

But how does one quantify the importance of gear fit beyond the conversations of women and people who don’t fit the unisex drysuit well?

Lirette shared that while measurements were an important part of the Freya Drysuit Design Feedback Survey, it was just as important to get context beyond the measurements. Put simply, what are the effects when a person cannot find outdoor gear that fits them well? What are the stakes of a lack of inclusive sizing?

Why drysuit fit matters in paddling skill development

“A lot of the comments and responses we got were extremely personal, extremely passionate people sharing how this [drysuit fit] has affected them—their mental health, body image, their paddling skills and abilities,” Lirette shared.

Which, of course, makes sense: bodies are personal. A drysuit is an important piece of gear for paddlers looking to advance their skill set and practice rescues. Drysuits keep a paddler dry when in the water and extend the paddling season from summers and warm water exclusively to anywhere and anytime there is open water to paddle.

Too tight, and a drysuit can restrict motion. Too large with excess material, drysuits can snag, get in the way and also restrict motion.

A paddler who can’t find a drysuit that fits them well will not be able to practice effectively in colder water, preventing that paddler’s skills from progressing. This holds true for outdoor gear well beyond the realm of paddling: a hiker who cannot find a backpacking bag that fits their body has an additional barrier to becoming an accomplished backpacker.

Gear fit is a concrete barrier for many people in outdoor sports when it comes to building skills, but it also has more subtle effects that can be even more difficult to quantify. Drysuit fit is personal for paddlers of many skill levels, including Lirette, who, in addition to her role at Level Six, has worked as a whitewater kayaking instructor on the Ottawa River.

“I had a time period where I felt that my growth as a paddler had kind of stagnated,” Lirette shared. “We are so lucky that the Ottawa River is warm water, warm weather paddling in the summer, but anything shoulder season is not… there was a point where I was really struggling to find a drysuit.”

The typical drysuit runs anywhere from $800 USD to $1,500 USD, making it one of the most expensive pieces of paddling gear beyond a boat itself.

a group of female whitewater paddlers scout a river while wearing womens drysuits

5 Top Women’s Drysuits Go Head-To-Head

“If I’m investing that much in something that isn’t going to fit? I’m not going to be comfortable, that’s what I’m going to be preoccupied with, thinking about when I’m trying to paddle harder stuff,” Lirette added. “I’m not going to do well.”

“It’s a barrier that just shouldn’t exist. For a lot of people, it doesn’t, and they’re fine; they can get a drysuit that works,” said Lirette. “But for the people that it does exist, it’s a huge factor.”

The widespread effects of “shrink it and pink it”

The practice of “shrink it and pink it” makes waves far beyond the outdoor industry, and in its wake impacts range from stymying the growth of female outdoor athletes to more insidious results.

Verity Now shares that women in the United States are 73% more likely to sustain injuries in a vehicle crash than men, and 17-18.5% more likely to die in a vehicle crash than men. Tellingly, female dummies are not required in the United States to be crash tested in the driver position in vehicles.

According to an article in Harvard Social Impact Review, female soldiers in the United States are more likely to fracture their pelvis than males as a result of the unisex design of military boots, backpacks, and course requirements.

Survey results

Lirette shared that information Level Six gathered via the survey will be reflected in changes in the 2027 Freya drysuit line.

“We say it’s a women’s fit survey, but it’s not a problem that affects women exclusively. We’ve kind of used women’s as a term for anyone who doesn’t use male or unisex gear.” Lirette went on to add that the survey is about more than women’s fit, and rather about meeting the needs of a growing sport and changing industry.

This isn’t the first time Level Six has worked to make gear for more body types; their push for inclusive sizing is also reflected in the Ace Sprayskirt, Level Six’s spray skirt designed for big water, which in addition to a variety of tunnel sizes also has a trim-able tunnel length, meaning that paddlers can customize fit at home.

“Fifty percent of our staff is female, all of whom actively paddle. We are constantly getting feedback from our team to make sure we are adjusting the fit and features to meet their needs for a higher-performing garment. With a big push right now as a company to ensure that every piece of gear we make has a female-specific option, we have the unique opportunity to start from scratch on many of these new styles to ensure the fit is perfect,” shared Stig Larsson, CEO of Level Six.

While the Level Six team has already gathered the data they needed for drysuit design updates, they’ve decided to leave the survey up on their website as a place for paddlers who don’t see their body type represented in gear to share their stories.

Find the survey linked here.

Feature Image: Paddler Katie Kowalski in a Level Six Drysuit | Casey Bryant Jones, courtesy Level Six

Top 7 Wild River Reads by Whitewater Women

When A Paddler Dies, We Are Too Quick To Judge

By

Tim Shuff

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January 7, 2025

The paddling community judges accidents harshly. We are so determined to figure it out and ascribe a cause to the incident we often rush to conclusions before all the facts are available and blame the victims in the process. Instead, we ought to humbly reflect on what lessons the incident can teach us and give thanks for surviving our own near misses.

When a paddler dies, we are too quick to judge

Top 10 Tips For Paddling Safety

To be sure, analyzing, debriefing and accident reviews are essential to lifesaving takeaways. Accidents are too common and need to be reduced. According to United States Coast Guard (USCG) data, there were 183 paddling deaths in the U.S. in 2023. Kayaks were the second most common type of vessel involved in fatalities, second only to open motorboats.

Even as I sat down to write this, reports came in of two separate kayaking accidents that killed three people in one windy afternoon in British Columbia. On Saturday, April 20, two young men flipped in a tandem kayak in waves and tidal currents near Victoria. Their kayak and bodies washed ashore separately in the nearby San Juan Islands. Later the same day, a father and son in another tandem kayak flipped in Deep Cove, a popular kayaking spot near Vancouver. They were rescued, but the 70-year-old father didn’t survive. Early reports, which can often be wrong, suggest none of the victims were dressed for immersion.

Predictably, the online comments rolled in. First came the ill-informed armchair experts, pompous pronouncers of the obvious who bestow Darwin Awards and claim they wouldn’t have made the same mistakes. They are the first to speak up because what they say requires the least thought.

“Why would they be so far off land in a kayak in the ocean in the first place?” suggested one commenter about the first incident. From another: “This area is subject to the Venturi Effect. Consequently, currents can be quite strong and are influenced by various factors, including tides, winds and the topography of the sea floor.”

Okay, Einstein.

Or how about this one: “When a mistake is made in the ocean, it can be an unforgiving place.”

Thanks, Captain Obvious.

More knowledgeable commentary emerges later. However, some self-appointed experts parse the details and act as if the mastication of the event’s minutiae by their incisive intellectual chops can nullify all likelihood of any such tragedy occurring in the future. If only we would all keep cool heads and just look at the facts, our safety would be guaranteed. Simply venture forth protected by perfect knowledge, perfect judgment and an armor of radios, flares, satellite communicators, Gore-Tex, and leashes of the appropriate length and material to stay attached to all of it, in all conditions.

Too often, this is accompanied by an unspoken it-couldn’t-have-been-me subtext. We cling to every discerning detail—the victims had the wrong kind of kayak, a lack of certain safety equipment, insufficient training, or a bad weather forecast—anything to separate them from us.

That wouldn’t have happened to a real sea kayaker.

“The truth is, we are all vulnerable. The judgment we are too keen to apply to other people’s paddling accidents is an unhealthy coping tool, a way to avoid facing this truth.”

There is some truth to such distinctions. According to the same USCG data, three-quarters of paddlesports deaths are people with less than 100 hours of experience. And over 80 percent of people who drown in boating accidents weren’t wearing PFDs. But these stats probably say less about how dangerous it is to be a beginner and more about how many beginners there are. It’s like the statistic stating most people die near where they live. It doesn’t mean you’re safe if you never go home. Similarly, having a kayak with bulkheads and wearing a PFD doesn’t make you immortal.

Down to a coin flip

The movie Beyond the Salish, which won best sea kayaking film in this year’s Paddling Film Festival, shows how easily things can go wrong even for those who think they’re well-prepared. It tells the story of two enthusiastic young kayakers, Richard Chen and William Chong, who are rescued by helicopter after a harrowing capsize on the outer coast of Vancouver Island.

moody photo of the Salish Sea with water damage

Beyond The Salish

The pair had practiced rescues and wore wetsuits, paddling jackets and quality PFDs. But the movie will attract commentary from the same backseat critics who vulture around every kayaking accident: They were stupid and should have known better. Richard says as much himself.

My friend Dave and I paddled the same stretch of coastline when we were about the same age. In hindsight, I tend to think our survival is evidence of superior skill and judgment. I wouldn’t have let go of my paddle and lost my balance like Richard, right? But I need look no further than my journals to see how much of our safety was dumb luck.

There was the time we found ourselves panicking in huge seas offshore of the Cape Beale Lighthouse. In my memory, we’d headed out into calm weather and been surprised by the conditions. But my journal tells a different story. The forecast had been for a 13-foot swell.

“This could be a crazy day,” I’d told Dave. But, brimming with confidence from hundreds of miles of safe paddling, often with threatening forecasts that had turned out to be fine, our motto had become, “paddle anyway, change plans later.”

“If we get pummeled, we get pummeled,” Dave announced, responding to my concern about what 13-foot swell might mean for a surf landing. Once we got a half-mile offshore, our confidence dissolved.

“Now I’m scared,” Dave yelled over the wavetops. We shakily turned around, bracing against the whitecaps, and surfed into safety behind the lighthouse.

“So you’re the kayakers giving me more grey hairs this morning,” the lightkeeper greeted us. He’d had his binoculars trained on us the whole time, ready to call the coast guard.

I can count half a dozen other close calls with no help nearby.

“I thought we were elite kayakers, but now I see we just had good weather,” I wrote in my journal. “The feeling of power is gone, replaced by a reverence, gratitude, humility.” Over time, humility was replaced by complacency and pride.

The only thing separating us from Richard and William is we didn’t capsize. Maybe we were stronger paddlers, or perhaps it was because we had the good judgment to turn around. But at the time, the decision felt like a coin flip. There’s probably some alternate universe where those two young men finish their trip safely, and Dave and I are airlifted out. Our good fortune is not a qualification for grandstanding.

What the water teaches

The truth is, we are all vulnerable. The judgment we are too keen to apply to other people’s paddling accidents is an unhealthy coping tool, a way to avoid facing this truth. In her memoir, No Cure for Being Human, the religious scholar and cancer survivor Kate Bowler explains this tendency we have to recoil from the tragedy in others’ lives. “Who wants to be confronted with the reality that we are all a breath away from a problem that could alter our lives completely?” she writes.

To learn from others’ mistakes and misfortune, we have to first accept it could have been us. Less judgment, less opining, more openness and empathy. This is what the water teaches us, after all, if we are willing to listen.

Tim Shuff is a sea kayaker, firefighter and former editor of Adventure Kayak magazine.

Survey Says

We asked our readers about safety habits. Here’s what you had to say.

How often do you paddle alone?

A: All the time — 22%
B: Most of the time — 36%
C: Rarely — 25%
D: Never — 17%

When paddling, which do you always carry?

A: Signaling device (whistle or strobe) — 23%
B: Cell phone in a waterproof bag or case — 33%
C: Handheld VHF radio — 2%
D: A combination of these devices — 42%

Do you check weather or river gauges before paddling?

A: Always — 73%
B: Frequently — 15%
C: Occasionally — 7%
D: Never — 5%

Well, this is a surprise. More than half of our poll respondents say they paddle alone most or all of the time. That goes against the prime directive we paddlers have heard from summer camp straight up to today—never paddle alone. According to our survey, only 17 percent of paddlers stick to that golden rule all the time, while 25 percent admit to paddling alone on rare occasions.

There are different degrees of paddling alone, of course. If you go to a popular paddling area by yourself, you could be alone but not entirely on your own. After all, another cardinal rule of our sport is to always help a paddler in need—strangers included.

Readers do better when it comes to carrying signaling devices and phones with them on the water. Still, if you need help, it’s a lot easier to holler at the paddling buddy next to you than to phone a friend in the next county.

Cover of Issue 72 of Paddling Magazine, Issue 72 This article was first published in Issue 72 of Paddling Magazine. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.

Friendly swell or time to get off the water? It depends on who you ask. | Feature photo: David Jackson

Our Editor’s Favorite Stories Of The Year

Stories

By

Paddling Magazine Staff

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December 30, 2024

kayakers at an ice cave | image maddy marquardt — Sea kayakers at an ice cave on Lake Superior. | Photo: Maddy Marquardt.

Happy New Year! In 2024, the Paddling Mag team covered some unforgettable tales. Our favorite stories included a kayaker who used a camp chair to fend off a polar bear, a canoeist who survived an underwater gunfight, a follow-up with the paddler nearly crushed by a whale in that jaw-dropping viral video (you know the one), and our picks for the greatest kayak expeditions of the century (so far). Below is a selection of 10 top stories that inspired the most discussion, debate and delight amongst the team in 2024. Enjoy! —Editors

1) Kayaker Fends Off Polar Bear With Camp Chair

Four kayakers navigate treacherous waters, towering icebergs and one of the densest polar bear populations on the planet, culminating in one dangerously close encounter:

“Instinct tells me to turn around. Urgently. The worst-case scenario is a polar bear right behind me, I think, not believing it as I write in my diary by the fire. I look over my shoulder, and two piercingly black eyes in a creamy white face meet mine. For a moment, I wonder if I am dreaming. Twenty meters away, dinnerplate-sized paws pad slowly but purposefully toward me.”

When four kayakers embark on a 1,000-kilometer journey along the remote coastline of Labrador, they navigate dangerous waters, towering icebergs, and the constant presence of polar bears. In this gripping first-person account, Justine Curgenven recounts a heart-pounding encounter with one of the planet’s top predators. Read more about the daring expedition and close call…

A polar bear tastes the air when he sees us, trying to get our scent

Expedition Torngat

2) Canoeist Survives Underwater Gunfight On Amazon

John Bathgate was shot twice—here’s why he’s going back to finish the expedition:

John Bathgate was submerged beneath his attacker’s boat when he realized he’d been shot through the shoulder. His expedition partner, Ian Roberts, was still up above somewhere, along with the gun-wielding pirate. He and Roberts knew of the piracy problem along the Amazon River and even discussed what they’d do if attacked. Still—they never thought it’d happen to them.

The Amazon Summit to Sea Expedition began in early May 2023. Unlike other Amazon River paddling expeditions that sought to traverse the river from its farthest source to the Atlantic, Summit to Sea would begin from the highest source: Mount Chimborazo…

wounded man gives thumbs up while being attended by army medic after a gunfight during his Amazon River expedition

Canoeist Survives Underwater Gunfight On Amazon River

3) The Man With The Mushroom Kayak

The harbor of Long Beach, California has seen its share of remarkable vessels, but perhaps none as intriguing as the one Los Angeles artist Sam Shoemaker launched on its waters. Shoemaker recently caught the attention of social media with images of a full-size mushroom kayak grown in his studio and bravely brought to a marina adjacent to the second busiest port in the U.S. for a float test.

Sam Shoemaker with mushroom kayak in Los Angeles

The Man With The Mushroom Kayak

4) Orcas Investigate Kayakers

For as many kayakers and whales travel the ocean, it’s incredible just how magical the moment remains for the two groups to share an interaction. Now, imagine how it would feel to have an Orca swim right up to the side of your boat

When a group of kayak guides in New Zealand, who seek to show others whales and wildlife, actually came face to face with a pod of Orcas, even they had trouble finding the words to express the astonishment…

Orcas Investigate Kayakers (Video)

5) Outdoorsy Girls Are Mean Girls But We Don’t Have To Be

Sexism in the outdoors isn’t always from the direction you’d expect:

Last year at a wilderness medicine course, I shared a quick story about an incident with a bee sting to the neck on the water. A woman just a little older than me approached me afterward, wanting to know who I was and where I was from.

“I’m a sea kayaker too,” she said. “I guided for two years in the San Juan Islands.”

There were only three other women in the class of more than 25. We were the only two who had taken the course before, and I could tell she did not like me. She had approached me with the intent of comparing her guiding and outdoor resume to mine—to correct me on something I had shared.

I’m a fifth-year coastal kayaking guide and people often ask if I experience sexism in the outdoors. Yes and no, I respond, and never from the direction I expect it…

Outdoorsy Girls Are Mean Girls, But We Don’t Have To Be

6) Meet The Kayaker Almost Crushed By A Whale In This Viral Video

How the near-death experience inspired Tom Mustill to investigate human-animal communication:

In September 2015, Mustill, an accomplished biologist and documentary filmmaker, was kayaking off the coast of Monterey, California, when a 30-ton humpback whale the size of a school bus breached and collided with his kayak, sending him and his paddling partner tumbling into the ocean. The dramatic moment, captured on video by a nearby whale-watching boat, has been viewed more than 6.6 million times…

Meet The Kayaker Almost Crushed By A Whale In This Viral Video

7) Out In Front With Dan Dixon

The kayak instructor of 40 years has traveled the globe and has wild tales to share:

“I put the student out in front,” explains kayak instructor Dan Dixon. “They lead me down the river, and I let them get into anything I can get them out of.”

Three of us are kayaking down Section 9 of the French Broad, eddy hopping and joking along the way. Going first is Jean-Marc, an adventurer from Mexico City who has worked with Dan for five years. After decades of cenote diving, sailing and car racing, an accident forced Jean-Marc to have several vertebrae fused. So, he sought Dan’s guidance to adapt his paddling…

two Stohlquist life jackets hang over a fence with a towel

Stohlquist’s Operations Shuttered After 46 Years

8) How To Make Portaging Great Again

“When it comes to load carriage, we’re awash in dubious improvements to what was very likely the first and simplest way to move stuff from one place to another: the tumpline. Back straps, external frames, internal frames, Trapper Nelsons, widgets, zippers, waist belts and chest straps—all came along after the tumpline and eclipsed the single head strap,” says James Raffan. But tumplines allow paddlers to carry a heavier load for a longer distance than anyone ever could with just shoulder straps…

a person carries a canoe pack through buggy boreal forest with help from a tumpline

Tumplines: How To Make Portaging Great Again

9) Greatest Kayaking Expeditions Of The Century (So Far)

Following his successful transatlantic expedition, kayaker Peter Bray said, “If somebody says something can’t be done, I like to know why it can’t be done, and then prove it can be.” This sentiment echoes through the motivations of some of the most extraordinary kayaking expeditions, inspiring journeys that push not just physical and mental boundaries, but also the limits of what we believe is possible.

Drawing on the nominations from more than a dozen of today’s most accomplished expedition paddlers, we’ve curated a list of some of the most remarkable journeys by double blade in the past 25 years. While few of us will ever attempt such daring trips, these stories inspire us to question our own limits and fuel the spirit of adventure…

silhouetted view of Freya Hoffmeister on one of her greatest kayaking expeditions

Greatest Kayaking Expeditions Of The Century (So Far)

10) Last Call On The Klamath River

The world’s largest dam removal project has wiped out one of the West’s best summer rafting experiences. Here’s why that is a good thing:

Join writer Mary K. Miller on one of the last guided rafting trips on the Upper Klamath, taken on the cusp of its historic transformation. Construction has begun to demolish four aging dams on the river, in the world’s largest dam removal project. Its aim is to return historic salmon runs to the Klamath—once the second-largest in the lower 48 states—and free 400 river miles on one of the most culturally important rivers in the western United States. The implications for river enthusiasts will ripple for years to come. Find out why…

a group of rafters paddle down the renowned Hells Canyon section of the Klamath River

Last Call On The Klamath River

Sea kayakers at an ice cave on Lake Superior. | Feature Image: Maddy Marquardt.

Canoe Surfing Biggest Swell In 30 Years Off Waikiki (Video)

By

Maddy Marquardt

-

December 19, 2024

Early December 2024, outrigger canoe surfers gathered at Castles in Waikiki to catch the biggest swell in decades with waves towering over 30 ft (9 m).

“It’s probably once a 30, 40-year swell,” said Jimmy Austin, a canoe surfer in a video on Ocean Paddle TV. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen waves this big in Waikiki.”

Castles is one of the best big wave surf spots on the Hawaiian South Shore. Manned by three to four surfers, the outrigger canoe is paddled similarly to a typical canoe but includes an outrigger on one side for additional stability in big water.

“There’s two types of people; ones that drop everything when it’s 10 ft and ones that always have excuses,” Alika Winter, a canoe surfer, shared in the video.

History of the outrigger canoe

The outrigger canoe is designed for both stability and efficiency on open water with an outrigger (ama) as a secondary floating hull parallel to the main canoe hull (vaka or wa’a). Traditionally, the canoe body is carved from a Koa tree and shaped to cut cleanly through the water, while the outrigger provides additional stability.

Outrigger canoes are related to the traditional voyaging canoe used by Polynesian mariners to travel between the islands in the Pacific. Traditional Polynesian voyaging canoes were much larger than the outrigger canoe. A 50-60 ft (15-18 m) boat was considered medium-sized and capable of transporting whole families and their belongings across oceans. The voyaging canoe is essentially two canoe hulls connected by crossbeams with a central platform over the crossbeams, similar to a catamaran. These boats were equipped with sails and steered by a long paddle. Traditional voyaging canoes were used to travel and migrate between different islands in Polynesia.

Canoe surfing the biggest swell in 30 years of Waikiki, Hawaii in outrigger canoes — Outrigger canoe surfing the biggest swell in 30 years of Waikiki, Hawaii. Featured Image: Ocean Paddler TV | YouTube

It is estimated based on ethnobotanical evidence that the first voyaging canoes, and with them soon after the smaller outrigger canoe, reached the Hawaiian Islands by 400 CE or earlier. For context, European sailors did not reach the Pacific Ocean until the 16th century at which point most of the islands in Polynesia had been settled for hundreds of years.

“While Europeans were sailing close to the coastlines of continents before developing navigational instruments that would allow them to venture onto the open ocean, voyagers from Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa began to settle islands in an ocean area of over 10 million square miles,” Dennis Kawaharada explained in The Discovery and Settlement of Polynesia.

The outrigger canoe today

Closer to the present, the Outrigger Canoe Club was started in 1908. Shortly thereafter, the Hui Nalu (Club of the Waves) was started as a similar club for Native Hawaiians by Duke Kahanamouko. Kahanamouko was not only the founder of Hui Nalu but also a proud member of the Outrigger Canoe Club according to Hawaiian Paddlesports; the two clubs began a friendly competition.

Today, outrigger canoe enthusiasts gather to race, play, and celebrate the legacy of the outrigger canoe in the Hawaiian Islands. Oh, and occasionally they get lucky and catch a 30 ft (9 m) wave.

Ross Turner, center, with instructors Yves Aquin and Patti Stevens

Silver Surfer: Ross Turner Challenges Waves And Stereotypes At 85

From Ireland To India: One Family’s 51,000KM SUP And Moto Odyssey

By

Todd Lawson

-

December 19, 2024

Respite from the searing summer heatwave was a mere 12 kilometers away—a small lake we could reach in only 33 minutes, according to Guida, the voice coming through our helmets via Google Maps. We named the voice as she was our trusty guide as we navigated from Ireland to India during a yearlong family SUP and moto mega-adventure. We had hoped to end another long day in the saddle with a much-needed paddle and swim to wash off the day’s dust and road grime.

From Ireland to India: One family’s 51,000KM SUP and moto odyssey

“Let’s push on,” I said as the road became rougher. “We’re not that far away; it’ll be worth it.” As we pressed on, the rocks became bigger, the ruts deeper. Fun stuff on an unladen motorcycle but not so much in the searing Spanish heat with fully loaded bikes, one with a sidecar carrying two inflatable SUPs.

a family paddles in kayaks on a trip on Ontario's Georgian Bay

15 Best Family Kayak Trips In The World

“I don’t want to turn back,” said Seanna, our 10-year-old daughter. “We’re almost there. Let’s get to the lake and swim, it’s so hot.”

We hopped back on, bouncing along the rocks and ruts, rolling through the thirsty pine forest—down, down, down in the direction of Guida’s mysterious lake. But when the road became steeper, the ruts even deeper and cell service cut out, we knew the consequences could be dire if we kept going.

Finally, my wife, Christina, waved the red flag when her back tire sunk into a rut about two feet deep. We’d have to turn around and make the dreaded backtrack to the main road before things got really bad. The smell of defeat rippled across the road. Dipping our paddles into this lake would remain a mirage-like dream. Sometimes, plans fall apart. Going with the flow is a lesson the road keeps teaching us and is all part of the adventure.

the Lawson's family motorcycles parked by their campsite with paddleboards along the grassy coast near Galway, Ireland — The perfect camp scene unfolds on the grassy shoreline of the Wild Atlantic Way in Galway, Ireland. | Photo: Todd Lawson

Freedom on two wheels

I’m not sure many motorcycle travelers are packing inflatable paddleboards, but it’s a niche that could and should keep growing. We brought paddleboards for the same reason we love to live behind the handlebars of a motorcycle—ultimate mobility and freedom.

On our yearlong motorcycle journey, we carried two inflatable SUPs and the search for water defined our 51,000-kilometer journey. We called our journey Threedom, and it was an incredible family adventure that tested the resilience of mom, dad and daughter every single day.

Before our daughter was born, Christina and I traveled extensively on motorcycles. On two major overland trips, we covered 67,000 kilometers through more than 40 countries. Back in those days, when we came across a lake, lagoon or slice of ocean paradise with rolling waves, all we could do was wish we had a canoe or kayak to explore with or rent overpriced, by-the-hour paddlecraft.

Now we had the perfect bikes—a 2021 Royal Enfield Himalayan and a 2021 Ural Gear Up—and a sidecar we named the Mule, so we figured, why not bring the fun with us? While dreaming, planning and researching for almost three years, we devised an efficient system to carry our 200 pounds of gear, which included our camping kit, paddling gear, spare tools and clothes, plus our daughter. Then we researched the best places on the European continent where we could set up camp for a couple of nights, inflate the boards and paddle. We put red dots on the map, ticked them off while on the road, and added more along the way.

The first of those red dots was on the west coast of Ireland, the very first night of our trip. We pitched camp atop a vast network of rabbit burrows and waited for the sun to pierce the cloudy skies. The white-capped ocean wasn’t terribly inviting, but after so much time packing and planning to make this trip a reality, how could we not celebrate with a cold-water experience along the Wild Atlantic Way?

The isles of Scotland’s Loch Lomond were next, where our ultimate transition transpired—all our gear from bikes to boards in less than an hour. After a windy, wobbly crossing from the mainland to Inchtavannach island, the perfect campsite presented itself. It was a protected forest with a beautiful, grassy area to spread out on, lots of firewood and not a soul in sight. As we had plenty of time and sunny skies to paddle under, we spent our days circumnavigating the small islands surrounding our camp and meeting strange locals. One morning, it was a gang of long-haired Highland cows, and the next, a wildly out-of-place wallaby sunning itself on the seaside rocks.

As we headed south, we hit more red paddle dots on our map, including in England, Wales, the west coast of France, and finally down into the clear, warm waters of the Mediterranean in southern Spain. The paddle dots on our map took us through Morocco, Greece, Italy, and as far east as the coast of the Mediterranean Sea in Turkey before a major engine failure made us ditch the bikes for a time and find other transportation into India.

Family vagabonding

Traveling for so long meant tapping into the art form known as dirtbaggery. We cooked over open flame to save fuel, cooked in hotel rooms instead of eating out to save money, washed our clothes in sinks, ate cheap cheese-and-bread picnics alongside the road, wild camped under the stars, and stayed with generous strangers who took us in, who we called road angels.

the Lawson family pose with sign and motorcycles while on their trip from Ireland to India — “We’ll keep this sign forever,” says writer Todd Lawson, pictured here with his family in Lisbon, Portugal. | Photo: Todd Lawson

Paddling was a bonus to the journey. Traveling by motorcycle, with everything you need in a few saddlebags strapped behind you, is the fuel that feeds the fire of adventure for us. It’s a wildly self-sufficient world we wanted to introduce Seanna to. At age 10, she was old enough to remember everything, yet still young enough to hang with her parents 24/7. Bikes and boards allowed for the best of both worlds, a surf-and-turf adventure unifying our primary interests—motorcycles and paddleboards—into one primary passion: adventure travel.

Dan Rubinstein stands silhouetted on his paddleboard during a SUP expedition that would teach him many paddling life lessons

Nine Life Lessons Learned On A 2,000-KM SUP Journey

We knew this journey through 29 countries would remain with our daughter for the rest of her life, so we wanted to make it as memorable as possible, and being able to paddle and swim in as many places as our route allowed was icing on the cake. Camping, hiking and fishing were part of the package when we needed time away from the bikes and allowed us to immerse ourselves in the landscapes and culture of Europe and Asia. Along the way, our daughter received the ultimate education in humanity, geography, adaptation, compassion, reliance and what true adventure can teach one’s soul.

Todd Lawson is an avid traveler, paddler and a publisher at Mountain Life Media. His first book, Inside the Belly of an Elephant: A Motorcycle Journey of Loss, Legacy, and Ultimate Freedom, was released in 2023.

Cover of the Summer 2024 issue of Paddling Magazine, Issue 72

This article was first published in Issue 72 of Paddling Magazine. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.

Moments of glassy magic, like during this sunset on Loch Lomond, Scotland, made the Lawson family’s decision to carry two inflatable SUPs on their yearlong adventure totally worth it. | Feature photo: Todd Lawson

Cyril Derreumaux To Depart On Atlantic Crossing December 19, 2024

By

Maddy Marquardt

-

December 17, 2024

Cyril Derrumaux prepares to launch for Atlantic Crossing December 19, 2024 — Cyril Derrumaux arriving in in Hilo, Hawaii, September 2022 after crossing the Mid-Pacific. | Feature Photo: Tom Gomes

Ocean expedition paddler Cyril Derreumaux departs December 19, 2024 to cross the Atlantic Ocean. Derreumaux will depart from La Restinga, The Canary Islands with the goal of reaching the easternmost Lesser Antilles archipelago on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean by kayak. The journey will total an estimated 3,000 miles and will be completely human-powered, solo, and unsupported.

Derreumaux’s departure date was initially set for Dec 17 but was delayed slightly for a better weather window.

Derreumaux’s previous journeys

In September 2022, Derreumaux completed his first solo ocean crossing, a 2,761 mile (4,444 kilometer) journey from California to Hawaii across the mid-Pacific in a total of 91 days and nine hours at sea. This journey, much like his upcoming crossing, was completely human-powered, solo, and unsupported.

Derreumaux first ventured into the world of outrigger canoeing and kayaking in his early 30s after a move to California to follow his profession in the wine business. In California, Derreumaux found the Great Pacific Race and joined a four-man team to row from California to Hawaii. The trip earned the team the Guinness Record for the fastest ocean team rowing crossing at 39 days and sparked Derreumaux’s interest in big solo crossings and endurance paddling.

Kayaker Cyril Derreumaux Reaches Halfway Point On Pacific Ocean Solo Crossing

What goes into crossing the ocean?

The first 19 days are the hardest, battling seasickness, sleep deprivation and adjusting to new foods and the pace of paddling according to Derreumaux.

While at sea, potable water is made using a water maker or desalinator and most of Derreumaux’s food is freeze-dried or dehydrated. En route, Derreumaux will burn close to 8,000 calories a day and ingest 6,000 calories daily, leading to an average daily deficit of 2,000 calories. This amounts to an expected weight loss of 20-25 lbs, weight that the paddler worked to gain in advance of his departure.

Throughout the course of his ocean crossings, Derreumaux typically wakes up before dawn for breakfast and begins his paddling at sunrise. From here, he paddles 4-5 hours before breaking for lunch, then paddles another 4-5 hours. Around sunset, Derreumaux prepares for the night. Throughout the night, he wakes up every two hours to check on the boat.

Derremaux’s kayak is a 23-ft (7 meter) boat with a fully sealable self-righting cabin. The kayak is human propulsion only, by both kayak paddle and a system to pedal by feet to alternate muscle groups used along the journey. Fully loaded, the boat will weigh 800 lbs.

In total, Derreumaux’s upcoming journey will span an estimated 3,000 miles / 4,800 kilometers / 2,800 nautical miles and an expected 80-90 days.

Follow Derreumaux’s progress here.

If You Gotta Go, Go Now

By

Ian Merringer

-

December 17, 2024

Expedition Torngat

It was our third consecutive lunch of pitas and cheese and we were ready for a distraction. We had pulled up at a narrows about two-thirds of the way down Nunavut’s Coppermine River. The bank on the far side was splattered with head-high willow shrubs and Barb was adamant that there was a caribou grazing among them.

“There,” she said, “just to the left of the little clearing.”

The rest of us munched away, squinting across the river and assuring her we also saw it before realizing what we thought were antlers were just another pair of willow branches.

This went on for 15 minutes, until the pitas were put away for another day, before Mike declared, “It must be a caribou. I can smell it.”

Mike has admirable olfactory abilities, but this was too much. I was about to suggest he was smelling himself when I caught a whiff of what I imagined caribou breath must smell like.

Ally turned around and laughed. Not 20 meters behind us four caribou were mowing down tufts of lichen. We could see every whisker, and hear every gum smack—I had assumed the noise was Mike eating dessert. It’s a good thing we had a large store of pitas, because if we had been relying on keen senses to deliver us food from the land we would have gone hungry.

I couldn’t help but feel out of my element up there. The conventions that time and space follow down south, even on a remote river in the boreal, have no purchase in the Arctic. With the land frozen so much of the year, cycles such as growth and decay grind to a crawl while seasonal imperatives like spring runoffs and animal migrations take on a determined frenzy. It is hard to know what to expect, even hard to know how to adjust your eyes to a landscape that is so barren and hard to read it turns what you thought would be a half-hour hike into a half-day trek.

If you gotta go, go now

That was 10 years ago, and I haven’t been back to the Arctic, a fact that hit me in the gut last week when a couple I know asked me out for a beer and counsel about their plan to paddle the Coppermine.

They were nervous, and had reason to be. They had paddled a handful of rivers, but their whitewater history wasn’t one that begged for a biography. The weather in late August could well be punishing. With only one canoe in their party they would have no one to collect pieces for them after a dump.

As we batted around these caveats I couldn’t help but wonder if I was erring on the side of caution so I would feel better about my inability to muster a return trip above the 66th parallel.

beautiful view of a northern BC mountain and river landscape, perfect for the canoe trip of a lifetime

13 Northern River Trips Of A Lifetime

As we often recount in these pages—call it our editorial mission—paddling trips on the whole are getting shorter and shorter. Fewer people are making the sort of time commitment needed to do extraordinary trips. Everyone has reasons. I know I have mine. I just don’t know if they are good enough.

My friends emailed me last week to tell me they had weighed the risks and had decided to paddle the Coppermine. They may become stormbound for a few days. They may dump and lose equipment—or worse. One fate that won’t befall them, however, is they’ll never have to sit on a patio sipping a beer and mumbling sorry excuses for how they didn’t go north that summer because they were too busy.

Recirc celebrates our favorite stories from the first 25 years of Rapid, Adventure Kayak and Canoeroots magazines. Author Ian Merringer was the editor of Canoeroots when this article ran in 2006. In 2022, Ian enjoyed a couple glorious weeks running northern B.C.’s Stikine River.

Cover of Issue 72 of Paddling Magazine, Issue 72 This article was first published in Issue 72 of Paddling Magazine. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.

To the polar sea. | Feature photo: François Léger-Savard

Bears VS Kayakers

By

Maddy Marquardt

-

December 12, 2024

Many a paddler has had an encounter with a bear in the wild. Whether our favorite furry friend is poking around your bear hang at night, or encountered from the water it always makes for a memorable story at the… bear minimum.

From grizzlies chasing kayaks to polar bear run-ins, here are the best kayak vs bear videos on YouTube:

BEAR: On the Alaskan Coast, a bear breaks a kayak leaving paddler left to swim for help.

During a solo kayak trip from Ketchikan, Alaska to Petersburg, Alaska, kayaker Mary Maley’s boat was mauled by a bear. In one of the most viral paddling bear videos of all time, Maley shouts at the bear in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to scare it off.

The video begins five minutes after the attack began, and the bear continued to eat her kayak after the video concludes.

BEAR: Grizzly chases kayaker across a river

Near Squamish, British Columbia, watch as a kayaker is chased by a Grizzly bear on the Elaho River.

DRAW: After observing an uninterested polar bear, kayakers lose dignity to walrus

While sea kayaking in the Arctic, Steve Leonard and Jason Roberts have a serene encounter with a polar bear only to be attacked by a walrus! Jump to the 2:30 minute mark to get to the meat of the video.

KAYAKER: Paddlers successfully scare off a polar bear without further incident.

On a sea kayak expedition in Greenland, Steve Backshall and his team have a frightening encounter with a polar bear in search of food.

In this video, the crew is well-equipped for bear encounters and ultimately grateful that the bear scares away in the end and they don’t have to resort to methods of self defense that could harm the bear.

Feature Image: While on a kayaking expedition in Greenland, Steve Buckshall and his team encounter a polar bear. PBS | YouTube