Leg Drop Roll Kayak Technique

Skills

Photo: Shawna Franklin — A sea kayaker uses the bow of another sea kayak to practice a kayak roll.

Add reliability and ease to your roll by incorporating an active leg drop. The active leg drop better uses your body to roll the kayak and moves you away from relying too heavily on your paddle.

The quick, powerful action of rolling a kayak with the hips—a hip snap/flick—is widely described as getting the upper body near the surface and supported by the water, while righting the boat with a rolling action of the hips. Most people are told to lock their knees under the deck and concentrate on the upward action of one knee.

Both legs pushing up against the deck creates resistance to the rolling action. A paddler will often compensate by pulling harder on his paddle. He is essentially trying to lift his body up underneath the still overturned kayak, resulting in a cumbersome or failed roll and additional stress on the upper body. Avoid these problems with an active leg drop.

Start your roll by actively driving your leg closest to the paddle down, transferring con- tact from the thigh brace to the hull. Roll that hip and sit bone down while lifting with your opposite knee, bringing the kayak underneath your body.

This opposition of forces results in the kayak rolling almost upright before your body lifts out of the water, which reduces the need to pull on the paddle. As the kayak rolls up, your lowered leg and hip create a solid platform to help prevent it from tipping back over.

Watch another roller who is incorporating an active leg drop and you will notice that the boat moves before she starts to move her paddle.

Practice the action with this exercise. Hold onto a fixed object—a pool side or a friend’s bow or hand—and lower yourself into the water by rotating onto your back and bringing your shoulders parallel to the side of your kayak. Keep your arms bent in a strong position. Roll the boat over on top of your body while keeping your head on the surface.

Drive the leg closest to your hands to the bottom of the kayak while increasing pressure against the thigh brace on the opposite leg. Arc your spine and leave your head on the water. You will feel the kayak roll easily into a more upright position. This is similar to what Greenland paddlers refer to as a static brace position.

Repeat until you start to feel the coordination of your opposing leg actions, and then incorporate it into your roll.

In addition to rolling your kayak more efficiently, the active leg drop can also be incorporated into edging and bracing to the same advantage.

Shawna Franklin is the co-founder of Body Boat Blade International, an award-winning kayak school located on Orcas Island, Wa. A BCU coach Level 5 aspirant, Shawna was the first woman in North America to achieve the BCU 5 Star Sea award.

Peer review

“Shawna’s article is a great isolation and description of an important component to the roll. The connection to using downward pressure is key. ” » Ginni Callahan, ACA level 5 instructor and BCU level 4 coach, Cathlamet, WA

“It is great to see a coach moving paddlers away from the hip flick technique. Instead, think of your hips as a relaxed and flexible joint separating upper and lower body. Remember the mantra “Boat first, body second, head last” for the timing of a successful roll.” » Doug Cooper, BCU level 5 coach, Aviemore, Scotland

“Try backward learning to reinforce the leg drop. Holding onto a solid object, use one leg to actively pull the kayak upside down. Use the other leg to right the kayak. As you build confidence and skill, try Shawna’s drill holding onto a paddle float or flutter board. This will force you to drive the roll with your legs. If you use your arms, you will sink.” » Michael Pardy, Paddle Canada level 3 instructor trainer, Victoria, BC

“Many Greenland kayak designs [have] a wooden bar that holds both legs flat. [In] whitewater kayak designs, the limited space forces knees up and out- ward. So there’s a group of paddlers rolling with both legs straight and another rolling with both legs bent. Conceptually, I welcome Shawna’s instruction to prevent adverse pressure against the deck, although it’s not always possible. ” » Nigel Foster, BCU level 5 coach, St. Petersburg, FL

“Make sure your boat fits you correctly so you don’t fall out when using this technique. A keyhole cockpit offers a much better fit than a more open style. ” » Christopher Lockyer, BCU level 4 coach and Paddle Canada level 3 instructor, Halifax, NS

This article originally appeared in Adventure Kayak, Spring 2011. Download our freeiPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it here.

Open Crossing Kayak Technique

Photo: Virginia Marshall — Open water crossing by kayak.

Put simply, a crossing occurs anytime you cannot safely return to land virtually instantaneously. This includes shortcutting across the mouths of bays or fiords, island hopping and paddling around cliffs or rocky capes where you may be close to shore but still vulnerable with no safe exit.

There are three dangers inherent in any crossing: general fatigue, capsizing and drifting off course.

When Dr. Hannes Lindemann prepared for his solo kayak crossing of the Atlantic in 1957, he trained to stay awake and alert for long periods of time. Fatigue can affect judgment and decision-making ability as well as paddling ability.

To gauge your personal limits, start with short crossings and gradually work your way towards covering longer distances. You’ll find strength and joy as you tickle the borders of exhaustion, but don’t get halfway out on a 20-mile crossing and realize that it’s too much.

Kayaking books teach techniques for getting back in your boat after you’ve capsized. The best advice: Don’t tip over in the first place. Practice bracing and righting skills in rivers or surf—any place with complex hydraulics. If you don’t enjoy the chaos of rough water, limit your exposure to crossings. As with training for fatigue, match your risk to your skill level and personality, leaving leeway for the situation to become more intense than you initially envisioned.

In order to avoid drifting off course, careful calculation and planning for a number of scenarios are necessary.

Catabatic winds can occur any time high, cold peaks border warmer shorelines. Cool air may spill down the mountains, creating intense offshore winds that can push you off course.

They usually intensify in the afternoons, so plan accordingly.

Tidal currents are most intense where there is a large tidal range and where narrow straits connect two bodies of water of different sizes and depths. For example, tides would race through a channel connecting a shallow bay and the ocean, creating shears and eddies where speeding water interacts with calmer water. To avoid the impacts of tidal currents, travel at slack tide or take potential drift into consideration.

The most exciting crossings involve passages to small islands where, if you miscalculate, you may find yourself adrift on the open sea. Deepsea waves, winds and currents require that you study pilot charts, talk to local sailors and fishermen, and always err on the upwind side. It’s much easier to drift downwind at the end of a long day than to battle against wind or current in the fading light.

When taking on a crossing, be sure to bring lots of food and water, and have your navigation gear and extra clothes in an easily accessible, waterproof deck bag.

Jon Turk’s book, In the Wake of the Jomon, chronicles his two-year crossing from Japan to Alaska.

This article originally appeared in Adventure Kayak, Spring 2011. Download our freeiPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it here.

Lining Rapids Canoe Technique

Skills

Photo: Jamie Orfald-Clarke — Lining down rapids.

This article on how to line your canoe down rapids was originally published in Canoeroots and Family Camping magazine.

After you line a canoe the first time around that usual portage, your watch and back will thank you for the discovery of what is actually an age-old alternative to more cumbersome options. Using guide lines to control the descent of a canoe through moving water is an age-old art that can provide a welcome alternative to portaging. Once you’ve come to recognize its potential, you may find yourself lining rapids that you would normally have carried around.

First, you’ll need a pair of lines. The rope diameter should be large enough to afford good grip: 1⁄4- to 1⁄2-inch braided floating rope works well. The length of the lines is dependent on the river and personal preference. Shorter lines are easier to manage but may leave you grasping for a runaway canoe. Longer lines allow you to move the canoe further into the current but may result in tangles if you only use a fraction of their length. Thirty-to forty-foot lines are a good compromise. Storing them in throw bags will keep them free of tangles when not in use.

When confronted with shallow or slow moving sections of river, simply tie the lines to the grab loops at each end of the canoe. Be careful not to let the canoe slip broadside into the main current or it will capsize. Tying the lines high above the waterline like this makes the boat easier to drag over rocks but more susceptible to flipping over.

For deeper, more powerful rapids, the best way to tie onto the canoe is with a bridle system. This positions the lines’ attachment point underneath the canoe, helping to prevent capsizing. Here’s a simple way to tie a bridle: start by folding back eight feet of rope on the end of your line. Next, tie a double overhand knot halfway up the folded section of rope so that you have a big ‘Y’. Then, tie each of the short ends of the ‘Y’ to either side of the canoe’s seat, positioning the center knot under the canoe at the keel line. With a bridle at both the bow and stern, and the load slightly rearranged so that the downstream end of your canoe is heavier, you will have a very stable setup.

Much like paddling rapids, lining is a mental game. Practising in light current with only a few obstacles present, you can learn with how the canoe interacts with the lines and the water. You need to work with the river rather than against it. The same can be said of lining with a partner—effective communication is essential. To read more on the subtleties of this technique, check out Garrett Conover’s comprehensive book Beyond the Paddle and Bill Mason’s classic Path of the Paddle.

Johno Foster is a seasoned Black Feather guide who would rather paddle through most rapids but knows when to toe the party line.

This article originally appeared in Canoeroots & Family Camping, Spring 2011. Download our freeiPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it here.

Considerate Camping: How To Build A Low-Impact Fire

campfire20221214 — Photo by Pavel Danilyuk: Pexels.com

Camping is synonymous with campfires. There is some atavistic aspect of staring into the dancing flames over a bed of embers that is primitively satisfying and deeply comforting.

Campfires are not, however, without their drawbacks. The scarring of land, harvesting of firewood and the residual trash not consumed by flames are apparent at nearly every campsite that sees even moderate use. So how can campfire impact be reduced?

Here are some tips for building a low-impact fire that will still allow you to partake in this timeless tradition.

[ Also read: Skill: Master The No-Match Fire ]

Consider your foundation

Where is the best place to build a fire? Use an existing pit where available. Make sure the fire is contained in a fire ring, or—even better—carry and use a metal fire pan or fire box to prevent ground scarring. You can also make a fire on a mound of sand or earth, and then scatter the mound and cooled grey ash so that you cannot tell a fire was ever burned there.

Build a small fire using small pieces of wood

Ideally, you should be able to break the wood with your bare hands. For most people, this means using sticks that are wrist-size or smaller. Small pieces of wood burn to grey ash more readily, leaving behind fewer unsightly pieces of charcoal and half-burned wood.

Collect wood from the ground, not from standing trees

At most campsites there is an abundance of fallen small wood overlooked by campers who scavenge for larger pieces. It is easy to gather and will keep even the most obsessive fire-pokers busy feeding it to the flames.

Keep trash out of your fire

Metal will not be consumed, lumps of uneaten dinner will not burn to ash and no one wants to sit around a campfire smelling the fumes from melting plastic.

Don’t leave your fire unattended

If you are not going to be close enough—or awake enough—to control it, put it out.

[ Paddling Buyer’s Guide: View all camping gear ]

Don’t have a fire

At least, not every night. Make having a campfire a special treat.

Enjoy your fire, but don’t take it for granted. Keep it clean and small and don’t use all the wood. The next campers will thank you.

This article originally appeared in Canoeroots & Family Camping‘s Spring 2011 issue. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the archives here.

No scorched-earth policy. | Photo: Marissa Evans

Esquif L’Edge Canoe Review

Photo: Dan Caldwell — Review of the Esquif L'Edge whitewater canoe.

The new Esquif L’Edge was in the concept and development phase for an unbelievable eight years. Designer Craig Smerda was originally inspired by the design innovations of the late Frankie Hubbard’s Spanish Fly—a freestyle boat much loved by southern creekers.

Smerda began building on this benchmark in 2002 and in the years that followed he designed and tested and eventually teamed with Jacques Chasse at Esquif Canoes to produce just two prototypes. One bounced around the 2009 Open Canoe Slalom Nationals and the other was shipped to the Ottawa River for renowned open boaters Paul Mason and Andrew Westwood. The feedback allowed Smerda, design collaborators Mark Scriver and Dave Proulx, and Chasse to dial in final specs for the long-awaited production boat.

The L’Edge is the first canoe available in both open and decked versions. We had the chance to paddle both and preferred the open one. Call us old fashioned, but we like our open boats…well…open. Eight pounds lighter than its decked counterpart and with ash gunwales, the open version feels and looks more like a canoe. The decked model is drier, but both are so much drier than anything we’ve ever paddled that it’s of little advantage.

When OC creeking, the wobbles should be the last thing on your mind. The L’Edge is very, very stable. While faster than the Spanish Fly, the L’Edge is definitely slower than the Prelude and Zoom. With so much stability, we’re inclined to monkey around with the L’Edge’s width to gain a little speed. With the open model, you can chop thwarts and suck it in. Smerda himself recommends cutting off one to one-and-a-half inches if you’re looking to make the boat snappier.

A foam bulkhead is the simplest, most universal outfitting system, though not the most precise. It fits more like athletic support than dentures. In the case of the L’Edge this outfitting is out of sheer necessity. The patch anchors needed for thigh straps don’t stick well to polyethylene. Also, the L’Edge is a creeker at heart. Emptying my boat in a micro eddy with only a few feet of water before the next drop, I’d rather slide quickly back into a bulkhead than wiggle around, cinching thigh straps.

The extreme rocker of the L’Edge allows it to boof anything. It rides high over reactionaries and pops over holes. The boat’s poly construction also makes it super durable if you’re into shallow slides and concrete rivers like the U.S. National Whitewater Center.

Eight years later, Smerda finally pulled it off—he designed a canoe that should swat the Fly. The L’Edge is our new favorite creek boat, but we’re not giving up our Zephyrs, Ocoees and Sparks as longer, lighter, big-river boats. The secret is to match the L’Edge with the two-stroke technical rivers and play spots for which it was designed.

ESQUIF L’EDGE DECKED/OPEN

Material: Polyethylene

Length: 9’2”

Width: 29.8”

Depth: 16”

Weight: 56/64 lbs

MSRP: $1,729 US / $1,900 Cdn

$2,033 US / $2,233 Cdn

www.esquif.com

This article originally appeared in Rapid, Spring 2011. Download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it here.

Green River Race Highlights

Videos

Highlights, interviews and crashes at the 15th annual Green Race in North Carolina. We talk to competitors and spectators to find out what makes them come back year after year and they tell us why this event keeps growing.

Why Self-Motivation Is Key To Your Canoe Portage

a man crosses a small forest stream on a log while portaging a canoe — Self-motivation is the key to carrying your canoe farther, easier, on a portage. | Feature photo: David Lee

It seemed a moot point to the accused, but I take the act of stealing red Life Savers out of my candy stash very seriously. I toss these sugary rings in my mouth at every 1,000-meter mark along a canoe portage, a personal act of rich reward—and the only thing that seemed to get me to the other side of the particularly grueling, blackfly-infested trails we trudged along on that trip.

My tripmate claimed I was being overly dramatic when I threatened to never travel with him again. He gave me an evil smirk and took my last Life Saver. I haven’t tripped with him since.

15 Tips To Conquer Any Portage

Self-motivation is key to your canoe portage

two people portage red canoes through the wilderness near Petawawa, Ontario — Ultimately, the portage is the only thing that protects the places we’re portaging to. | Photo: Magnetawan/Wikimedia Commons

What gets each canoeist to the other side of a portage varies. Some, like me, treat themselves to high-grading their candy bags. Others go into a dreamscape of good first dates, movies worth seeing a second time and dirty tricks to play on their bosses. Some paddlers simply think of things happening back at home—like traffic jams and the Greek economic crisis—to give them reasons why the pain of the portage isn’t so bad.

Many of us hum, or if we know the words, sing monotonous show tunes or the last song we heard on the radio driving to the put-in. The Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) is a favorite. So are Dancing Queen by ABBA, Harry Chapin’s Cat’s in the Cradle and John Denver’s Poems, Prayers and Promises.

I remember a 27-day solo trip when I couldn’t get Aqua’s Barbie Girl out of my head. Imagine “I’m a Barbie girl in a Barbie world / Life in plastic, it’s fantastic / You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere / Imagination, life is your creation” every step of every portage. It was a long month.

With suffering comes the sweetest reward

Where the portage is located on the trip changes the carrot I dangle from my deck plate. In the beginning, I daydream of monster walleye, picturesque campsites and the peaceful solitude I know I’ll find deeper into the interior. Near the end of the trip, it’s the thought of a cold beer and roadside junk food that makes me dance (albeit a slow waltz) my 60-pound canoe barrel across to the other side.

Ultimately, what gets most of us to the other side—no matter when and where—is the fact that the portage, nasty or not, is the only thing that protects the places we’re portaging to.

I almost guarantee that he or she who suffers the most, will be rewarded the most. A two-Life Saver portage with steep inclines and a squishy spruce bog will give you complete solace. There will be no crowds at the end.

If you do stumble across another canoeist—ideally not as you are belting out “Come on, Barbie, let’s go party, ah ah ah, yeah” from beneath your Rob Roy—be assured she’ll be just as in love with the pain and pleasure of portaging as you are.

paddlers carrying gear on a portage trail

Paddlers’ Rules About Portage Trail Etiquette

Kevin Callan eats the red Life Savers last.

Canoeroots Fall 2010 issue cover This article originally appeared in the Fall 2010 issue of Canoeroots. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine and get 25 years of digital magazine archives including our legacy titles: Rapid, Adventure Kayak and Canoeroots.

Self-motivation is the key to carrying your canoe farther, easier, on a portage. | Feature photo: David Lee

Betcha Didn’t Know About Spiders

Stories

Photo: Jonathan Pratt — Betcha Didn't Know About Spiders

Ever wonder if this fact is true? In your lifetime, you consume eight spiders while sleeping. According to Discovery Channel’s MythBusters, Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman, our breathing scares spiders away making this claim a myth.
Fried tarantula is a delicacy in the town of Skuon, Cambodia. The palm-sized spiders are coated in a mixture of MSG, sugar, salt and garlic, fried in oil and eaten as a snack. Tastes like chicken.
With eight legs and six joints per leg, spiders have 48 knees. Go ahead, count them!
A spider the size of an 11-inch dinner plate—the Goliath birdeater tarantula—is found in the rain forests of northeast- ern South America and is the largest spider on Earth.
Approximately 50 per cent of women and 10 per cent of men have some degree of arachnophobia—a fear of spiders. The 1990s, sci-fi horror film Arachnophobia frightens movie watchers with a deadly arachnid invasion of the small California town, Canaima.
Orb weaver spiders produce silk with a tensile strength similar to steel. Researchers hope to someday produce enough of it for use in body armour.
In the award-winning children’s novel Charlotte’s Web, Charlotte’s baby spiderlings climb to the top of a fence post at Zuckerman’s farm and demonstrate a technique called ballooning, where spiders release triangular-shaped, silk threads into the air and are carried away by wind currents. Some spiderlings are able to ride air currents for up to 25 days.

This article first appeared in the Fall 2010 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Canoeroots’ print and digital editions here.

Full Immersion: The Inside Story on Guided Whitewater Adventure Travel

Stories

Photo: Trevor Zaharichuk — Full Immersion: The Inside Story on Guided Whitewater Adventure Travel

The founder of what’s become one of the most successful ecotourism operations in the world admits that he didn’t have an ounce of business sense when he first visited Chile and fell in love with the Futaleufu River in 1985. Chris Spelius, then a Dagger-sponsored rodeo boater who’d just competed in the Los Angeles Summer Olympics, taught kayaking for North Carolina’s Nantahala Outdoor Center and had notched the first descent of the Niagara Gorge, decided that he wanted to spend as much time as possible on the little known rivers of Patagonia. He figured the easiest way to do that was to set up shop as a river guide.

“I started it almost like an experiment,” says Spelius. “I was just curious about whether or not it would work. I would present slide shows on the Fu and it would be the first time people had heard of the place. I was amazed when the phones rang and the next season I was guiding trips.”

The first trips Spelius ran were bro deals in which he charged nominal fees to lead class V American acquaintances on big water runs. After a few years, Spelius realized that if he wanted Expediciones Chile’s books to balance he had to be more inclusive in his programs and exclusive in his prices. Expert-only boating morphed into beginner- and intermediate-friendly river safaris with an emphasis on instruction; whitewater kayaking expanded to rafting, trekking, horseback riding, sea kayaking, climbing, fly-fishing and bird watching; and prices soared.

Without even realizing it, Spelius had cornered the core of the adventure travel and whitewater market: Older, moderately skilled paddlers with more money than time. A market for guided trips to places like Costa Rica, Ecuador and Mexico emerged, appealing to the middle-of- the-curve demographic that’s a far cry from the globetrotting, waterfall-hucking, dirtbag image of paddlesports marketing. Twenty-five years later, Spelius is still living his dream.

GUIDED WHITEWATER AROUND THE WORLD

Today, guided whitewater trips are offered in exotic places like Suriname, Norway, Thailand and Nepal, besides the classic Central and South American destinations that started it all. Prices range from $350 for seven days of class III–IV+ paddling in Ecuador to $11,300 for three months of paddling and cultural immersion in Chile’s Futaleufu River valley.

Trips run the gamut from laid-back programs with the odd day of paddling to intense, every-day-on-the-water tours. For instance, Quebec’s Esprit Rafting, which has organized adventure programs in Mexico since 1995, runs a weeklong whitewater tour of the Sierra Madre for solid class III boaters simultaneously with a primarily land-based adventure tour to appeal to couples. “When each spouse comes back from the day and says, ‘you won’t believe what you missed,’ we know we’re doing our jobs,” says Esprit owner Jim Coffey.

Esprit’s average group size of eight participants is typical for the industry, as is its 30- to 50-year-old demographics. Coffey requires that participants on his whitewater-intensive Mexican Week of Rivers program have intermediate skills, meaning that “they can roll and it’s fairly reliable,” he explains. Esprit also hosts its fair share of expert boaters.

“Often people think that guided trips are about leading a bunch of newbies down the river,” says Coffey. “But that’s not it at all. We give people the basic rundown and then we work our way down a river like any paddling group would. Some of these people wouldn’t necessarily want to be on an organized trip if they had more time to work out the logistics. We often see younger, budget-strapped guys who show up and try to do it on their own, but inevitably they end up just running the popular, local sections of rivers.”

Fifteen members of Calgary’s Paddle Junkies whitewater paddling club were exactly the type of boaters Simon Cow- ard was targeting when he planned a 12-day trip last fall to kenya. Coward, a whitewater instructor and owner of Calgary’s Aquabatics paddle shop and Adventure Trippin’ tour operator, taught many of his kenya expedition mates their first strokes on Alberta rivers. He says travelling abroad was a natural step in their learning progression.“What we’re try- ing to do is improve paddling skills and give people a cool cultural experience as well,” says Coward. “We do trips in countries where I’ve explored in the past. Basically we’re tak- ing the best of what I’ve done over the years and packing it into a two-week trip.”

Coward’s group consisted of paddlers like Barb Cardwell, a regulatory advisor at Esso-Imperial Oil. Cardwell got her start paddling Ontario and Quebec rivers like the Ottawa, Gatineau and Madawaska before she moved west to work in the front offices of the Tar Sands.“I like to have fun but I don’t like to scare the crap out of myself,” she says.“I don’t think the people in our club have the experience to pull off a self-supported trip of that nature at this point, especially on another continent. The most impressive aspect was having every last detail thought of and taken care of for you. The degree of planning put into the trip to make sure we all had an excellent experience was apparent to all of us every day.”

Therein lies the obvious appeal of going guided: Someone else manages the shuttles, language barriers, permits and paperwork—not to mention dealing with com- plex local geographies that may include rain forests, glacier-melt and monsoons. What’s more, guided trips offer boaters some of the best local knowledge around—a real plus when you’re pushing the envelope far from home. When you sign up for a guided trip “you’re hitting the ground running,” says Coward. “you’re getting a lot of instruction and running a bunch of new rivers. Meals are included, accommodations are sorted, and if anything goes awry you’ve got people there who are trained to deal with it.”

BLENDING PADDLING WITH LOCAL CULTURE

The evolution of guided whitewater trips is also marked by a strong emphasis on blending paddling with culture. It’s the reason veteran guides like Spelius have managed to thrive, and why Coward is in high demand to organize trips to Panama and Tibet in the next two years. “The kenya trip was more then just a whitewater trip for me,” says Trevor Zahari- chuk, an electrical engineer and class III boater from Calgary who joined Coward in Kenya.“It was a place I had always wanted to visit, and the trip was set up to allow us to not only experience some of the great rivers but also enjoy other attractions. It would have been a shame to visit there and not experience those things.”

In the remote Mexican village of Jalcomulco, where Esprit trips are based, Coffey insists that even his most whitewater-crazed clients become engaged with locals. He’s created a “micro-philanthropy” program called Hermanos that encourages trip participants to interact and share with villagers who may not reap the full rewards of the tourism investments. “There’s a lot of great paddling, but there’s also an in- credible connection that we’re able to make for people in this small village,” says Coffey.“When our guests get down here they can’t believe the open door policy. There’s a very genuine hospi- tality that’s a far cry from what people read in the newspapers about Mexico.”

It’s an ironic, happy coincidence that the idealistic lifestyle that Spelius dreamed of creating for himself has become a best-selling ecotourism strategy.“These are the types of experienc- es that are so apart from the ‘steer and herd me down the river’ experience that some people expect,” says Coffey. “We think of ourselves as offering guidance and connection. It’s one thing to go to a country and try to work it out on your own; it’s another to go to a place where you immediately have friends and family.”

Conor Mihell is a writer based on Sault Ste Marie, Ontario.

This article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2010 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here.

Survival: Trapped in an Undercut

Stories

Photo: Dunbar Hardy — Survival: Trapped in an Undercut

In May of 2006, Mark Heard—a former Canadian National Slalom Champion and veteran of many difficult and committing expeditions, including B.C.’s Homathko and Dean rivers—lost his life and narrowly got it back on Whistler’s Callaghan Creek. Steve Whittall, a member of Whistler Search and Rescue, had paddled with Heard earlier that day and got the call to evacuate him after the accident.

It was the first day of a weeklong paddling roadtrip. Kayakers from across B.C. and Alberta had travelled to Whistler and were eager to get started. With an afternoon run on the class IV Soo River under our belts, everyone was fired up for a late run on Callaghan Creek.

Timing was tight—a 6 p.m. put-in for a run that takes two to three hours. Callaghan is a class V creek in a deep basalt canyon that has undercut cliff walls and underwater caverns.

I opted out due to other commitments. The paddlers would run the river without local knowledge. A notorious underwater cave at the first rapid had trapped local paddlers before, but never with severe consequences. An easy boof at higher flows, on this low-flow day the 12-foot ledge dropped Heard, 44, onto a boil that surfed him back under the curtain and into the cave.

Unable to roll, Heard exited his boat but couldn’t swim out of the cave. After more than five minutes without air, he floated out of the cave facedown. Ian Norn was watching from an eddy immediately downstream. He clipped onto Heard with his tow system, dragged him to shore and immediately commenced CPR. Two doctors in the pad- dling group helped resuscitate Heard. They shot him with epinephrine and stabilized him as best as possible on the riverbank. The group lit a fire on the snowy ground.

Jean Bourdua hiked out to a logging road and back to his vehicle to call for help on his cell. Having difficulty describing access options to the Provincial Emergency Program (PEP) Coordination Centre and B.C. Ambulance Service, Bourdua suggested they contact me to clarify the location.

I knew that the only viable and timely evacuation from the canyon was via helicopter, but it takes time to get a mission approved by PEP and assemble the necessary manpower, helicopter and equipment. I called Search Manager Brad Sills to mobilize our response.

Within half an hour, we were in the air. In the approaching darkness, the fire proved invaluable for directing the helicopter and serving as a visual reference for the pilot. Heard was secured in an aerial rescue platform, hooked to the long-line and lifted above the tree canopy.

Scott Aitken, a local paddler and Search and Rescue volunteer, was on the end of the line. “[Heard] was thrashing, seizing. Still swimming,” he recalls. “ ‘Just lie down’ I kept saying.” Heard managed to force his arms out of the Velcro strapping of the rescue platform while in the air. “His strength…was [a large] part of his survival,” says Aitken.

Delivered to the Whistler Clinic by 9 p.m., Heard was re-warmed, intubated, stabilized and then heli-evacuated to Vancouver General Hospital.

Four years later, Heard has made a full recovery. He continues to practice as an orthopoedic surgeon in Canmore, Alberta, and still paddles whitewater.