Home Blog Page 517

Safety Tips: When Kayak Hatches Flood

Photo: Doug Alderson
Safety Tips: When Hatches Flood

What would happen to a fully loaded kayak if the waterproof hatches catastrophically failed? We conducted this test to find out.

First, we loaded a kayak for a two-week trip (55 kilograms of gear and a 68-kilogram paddler). We used eight dry bags very carefully closed with most of the air squeezed out— some air retained for buoyancy—and the roll-top closures rolled at least two full rotations.

Then we flooded the day hatch, and progressively flooded all the other hatches and eventually the cockpit. With the day hatch flooded, the kayak was still stable and maneuverable.

With the rear hatch and day hatch flooded, stability became difficult and maneuvering became slow and awkward. With the cockpit flooded, the kayak became unmanageable, with the rear edge of the cockpit coaming below the surface.

With the front compartment flooded, the kayak was completely swamped.

The best results for recovery after a capsize occurred when the paddler entered the water and tilted the kayak onto its side. The front compartment retained only six liters. The day compartment 10 liters, and the rear compartment 15 liters. We could then put on the hatch covers, re-enter the kayak and pump most of the water out of the cockpit. This made the kayak unstable but marginally maneuverable. However, this rescue would be very hard to perform in rough seas. Also, pumping out the cockpit was very difficult, even with a foot pump.

Finally, the gear in all eight dry bags was soaking wet, including important items like warm clothes and sleeping bags. This is disappointing and hazardous in itself and also means that the floatation would have decreased with the continued intrusion of water into the dry bags.

Conclusion: Well-packed dry bags offer sufficient buoyancy to cope with one flooded compartment; however, the addition of a flooded cockpit or a second flooded compartment greatly decreases the chance of a successful recovery. The kayak becomes critically unseaworthy and recovering ample buoyancy in rough seas is unlikely. Quickly emptying a fully flooded cockpit in rough seas would require an electric pump.

Always check the water tightness of your hatches and make your gear bags as waterproof as possible to improve your chances in the case of a flooded hatch.

Screen_Shot_2015-07-24_at_1.21.54_PM.pngThis article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2009 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

The Zen of Paddling

Photo: flickr.com/mr_t_in_dc
The Zen of Paddling

As a kayaker, there comes a time when you experience a magical moment. Paddler, boat and water combine into a oneness of existence. No longer are you a separate entity from your vessel. No longer is the kayak at odds with the flow of the water. Congruence occurs and your experience becomes Zen-like, where your only realm of being is in the moment. you are so connected with the water that paddling transcends into an unconscious effort, where the rhythm of your motion is as involuntary as the beating of your heart.

This Zen of paddling cannot be consciously willed. It merely happens. It is, of course necessarily predicated on the hours of kayaking needed to perfect your strokes and to coordinate your body movements into well-defined synchronization. Paddling a kayak is forged to perfection with dedicated practice.

You know you are approaching the Zen stage when the fundamental parts of your stroke slide together. The catch, power phase and release reach the point where they are separately ingrained into your musculature and complement one another. When your focus moves from the left blade catch to the right blade catch, and all the movements between the two just happen, the magic moment is near.

Zen will be upon you without searching for it. you arrive before you know it! It simply dawns on you that your paddle is an extension of your arms. The paddling motion is happening without your willing it. your mind is no longer the necessary master of your actions. Rather, your actions free your mind to reach another level of being.

No longer needed to will a motion, the mind finds purpose in crystallizing the experience of the moment: the essence of a breath; the sound of the paddle blade kissing the water; the slicing of the bow through the ripples; the cadence of catch after catch; the joy of being at one with the water. Here, life can simply flow. Unencumbered. Purposeful. Restful. Smooth.

Is this the moment you strive for? Is this the culmination of your seemingly endless quest for the perfect stroke? Has practice not so much made perfect as it has made performance? You are able to perform, essentially to move your kayak, to the point where concentrated effort is not the determinant of achievement. yes, you have arrived! The Zen of paddling is within your grasp as surely as the paddle shaft is manipulated in your hands. you are at one with your vessel as your vessel is at one with the water. your existence has been reduced to the essentials of being. You do. You are. No longer are you just a part of the kayak, the kayak is a part of you.

Capture this moment where the doing just happens and the realm of being is paramount. Left catch. Right catch. enjoy!

Michael Walmsley is an elementary school principal in Orangeville, Ontario, whose passion for paddling is equalled by his love of writing. He has been kayaking for 20 years. 

Screen_Shot_2015-07-24_at_1.21.54_PM.pngThis article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2009 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Editorial: The Tao of Dave

Photo: Tim Shuff
Editorial: The Tao of Dave

I first met my friend Dave when he was one of the interview subjects for my master’s thesis. The thesis was about the religious aspects of the wilderness experience. I was looking for people who were passionate about outdoor sport the way other people are passionate about church; in a way that infuses and influences their whole lives.

I couldn’t have found a better subject.

Dave is a few years older than me, but we have parallel backgrounds. We both grew up in suburban Toronto and escaped the city as early and often as we could. We both studied geography in university, got summer jobs tree planting in northern Ontario, and went to grad school in Victoria.

But something happened to Dave along the way that sharpened his experience—and probably made him especially qualified to speak to my thesis question. A car accident broke Dave’s back.

Several years ago, Dave and I paddled from Prince Rupert to Victoria: 1,400 kilometres in 80 days. If you do the math, that’s an average of just a few hours of paddling per day. We paddled high-volume boats and carried loads of food. We rested one day out of three and most days we were off the water by lunchtime. Time off was for reading and eating, photography and sunbathing, sleeping and exploring. We could have finished sooner but we went slowly because we didn’t want it to end. Every day was quality.

I couldn’t have planned a trip like that without Dave. I would have been caught up in covering a lot of distance and lost sight of the goal, which was just to have fun, explore and live outside.

Dave has a clearer sense of his values than most people I know. He knows how to use time well—on kayak trips and in everyday life.

When I first met Dave he was talking about leaving his secure, senior government job to spend more time kayaking and work as a photographer. Then he did it: quit his job, went to photography school, sold his house, downsized his life and started freelancing.

Nowadays I don’t get out kayaking as often as I’d like. But Dave kayaks more than ever. Often he goes paddling with Adventure Kayak writer Alex Matthews. It seems like every time I phone him, those two are either returning or heading out paddling to the Broken Islands or Clayoquot Sound. Last summer they paddled most of the west coast of Vancouver Island, retracing a big part of our 80-day trip.

When Alex pitched me a profile of Dave, I couldn’t wait to assign the story. Dave is inspiring because he’s built a life around what’s important. He says that kayaking saved his life after his accident, because it got him back out to the wild where he felt most happy and alive and connected. As Alex explains in the article, going kayaking is harder for Dave than it is for most of us (although it’s easy to forget when you’re hanging out with him). But he doesn’t let that stop him. He came close enough to losing his connection to the outdoors once. He’s not going to let it slip away again.

Screen_Shot_2015-07-24_at_1.21.54_PM.pngThis article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2009 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Boat Review: The Infiniti by Current Designs

Photo Rick Matthews
Boat Review: The Infiniti by Current Designs

Current Designs has long made touring kayaks in all shapes and sizes, but until recently lacked a British-style expedition kayak to complete their lineup. The new Infinity fills the void.

The Infinity extrapolates the design of CD’s smaller Willow and Cypress kayaks into the high-volume realm for larger paddlers. But not only larger paddlers. Although spacious, the deck and thigh braces are low enough to fit mid-sized paddlers comfortably.

regarding that age-old tradeoff, speed versus manoeuvrability, the CD design team clearly prefers to beat the playboaters to the campsite. The Infinity’s long waterline and low rocker profile translate into excellent tracking and speed. yet turning performance is reason- able for a boat of this length and very predictable. The Infinity responds nicely to an edge for subtle course corrections.

Another speedy feature of the Infinity is the soft, rounded cross-section of the shallow-arch hull; it’s curved like a racing kayak’s and you can feel this in the low initial stability, though less so when fully loaded. A confident paddler can effortlessly roll on edge and smoothly recover from any amount of lean—or from being upside down.

Another upshot of the speed/tracking proficiency is almost completely neutral response to crosswind, translating into control in rough conditions and skeg non-dependence, though dropping the fin helps when quartering into strong winds or running downwind with a following sea.

Current Designs crafts beautiful kayaks, and it is perhaps the parent company Wenonah’s expertise with lightweight tripping and racing canoes that allowed our kevlar demo to weigh in at less than 50-pounds. Peering through the layers of the translucent hull gives you a sense of CD’s composite wizardry and careful attention to which areas get reinforcement, like the hull and skeg box, and where material is pared to save weight, like the deck and bulkheads. Attention to detail also shows in such features as the skeg cable routing, which was well clear of the rear hatch opening so we could fearlessly cram gear into the hatch and fill the spaces around the skeg box.

CD describes the Infinity as a“large expedi- tion sea kayak” that will “comfortably accom- modate larger paddlers,” but it’s really a big boat that doesn’t feel big, or trade off super- smooth performance for carrying capacity. The Infinity is excellently suited for any midsized to large paddler whose primary concerns are speed, efficiency, carrying capacity, light weight and long-distance touring performance. 

Screen_Shot_2015-06-26_at_11.48.12_AM.pngKEVLAR, KEVLAR, EVERYWHERE

Current Designs affixes the foot rails to a metal bracket moulded into the Kevlar hull, providing strength without through-hull holes. a heavier duty Kevlar fabric reinforces the hull under the cockpit. the bulkheads are lightweight Kevlar too.

BIG WITHOUT FEELING IT

We like the fit and layout of the cockpit and the positioning of the rear bulkhead close to the seat to maximize day hatch space. the front deck and simple, effective moulded-in thigh braces are high enough for large paddlers without sacrificing performance fit.

DON’T ROCKER THE BOAT

Sleek and speedy rule the day, as demonstrated by the sharp entry line, long waterline, low rocker, and rounded chines and bottom. 

 

SPECS

length ……………….. 17 ft 9 in (51 cm)

width………………….22 in (5 cm)

depth…………………13.5 in (3 cm)

cockpit ……………… 31.75 x 1.5 in (81 x 2 cm)

total dry storage….. 55 gal (209 l)

weight……………….. 52 lbs (23. kg) fibreglass, 48 lbs (21. kg) Kevlar

MSRP …………………. $3,099 US fibreglass $3,999 US Kevlar

 

 

 

  

Screen_Shot_2015-06-26_at_11.39.10_AM.pngThis article first appeared in the Fall 2009 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. For more boat reviews, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Boat Review: The Chinook TX by Seaward Kayaks

Photo Victoria Bowman
Boat Review: The Chinook TX by Seaward Kayaks

We didn’t know that our demo kayak would be sold out from under us while we were paddling it. We returned the Seaward Chinook five hours late from a multi-day trip in Clayoquot sound to learn that its frustrated buyer had long ago quit waiting for us to bring his boat back and had gone home.

Now, you can define kayak performance in various ways. for some, performance is being able to put a boat on an aggressive edge so it’ll spin on a jellyfish and feel as stable sliding sideways down a wave as it does on a trout pond. Others define high performance in arguably more practical terms. Like being able to throw the entire contents of a minivan into the hatches, plop first-timers in the cockpit and send them onto the ocean without a worry—or buy it off the rack and know that you’re sure to find it comfy and easy to paddle. That’s the Seaward Chinook TX: a beginner-friendly, outfitter-friendly, “ buy it on spec” friendly craft.

The Chinook started life as the now-discontinued tyee tX, a boat intended for outfitter fleets that turned out to be too tippy for beginners. The redesign emerged as the Chinook, a “stable, capable cruiser” with the exceptional primary stability that beginners and outfitters crave.

With the classic 17-foot by 24-inch dimensions of an all-purpose West Coast tourer, the Chinook stands apart for its depth and volume. The cockpit is roomy and the coaming and thigh braces are very high for big paddlers. The bottomless hatches turn this boat into any trip’s packhorse.

Seaward’s recyclable Zytx thermoformed ABs plastic makes for a hull that’s lightweight for its size and pleasing to the eye. Thermoform plastic is a soft material and we noticed some hull flex in the cockpit on the water, but with no noticeable effect on performance.

On-water performance is predictable and well-suited to the intended outfitter use. tracking is excellent. The Chinook takes effort to edge, let alone flip, when loaded. The rudder counteracts a slight tendency to weathercock in wind and adds manoeuvrability.

A lot of things conspired to make us late coming home from tofino, including bad weather, a sick paddler who needed to be towed, opposing tidal currents, and an ice cream break at the the country market with the goats on the roof in Coombs, British Columbia. The Chinook handled them all. Although we don’t recommend anyone buy a kayak while it’s still being paddled by someone else, we do recommend the Chinook for large beginner paddlers looking for comfort, rock-solid stability and expedition capacity in a thermoformed kayak.

Screen_Shot_2015-06-26_at_11.40.53_AM.pngWide bodied watercraft

The shallow-arch hull is deep and full for maximum carrying capacity and nearly flat-bottomed for rock solid initial stability.

A rudder in disguise

Seaward’s new and improved cockpit includes a height-adjustable seat, angle-adjustable rudder pedals and a rudder-deployment system that uses a slider, more like a skeg control than a rudder’s usual deck-top pull cord.

Foolproof hatches

Seaward excels at friendly features that seem so obvious you wonder why every manufacturer doesn’t copy them: like bow and stern directional arrows on the neoprene hatch covers.

Specs

  • Length: 17 ft (518 cm)
  • Width: 2 in (70 cm)
  • Depth: 1.5 in (37 cm)
  • Cockpit: 32.25 x 1.5 in (82 x 2 cm)
  • Total storage: 75 gal (285 L)
  • Weight: 5 lbs (25 kg)
  • Price: $2,500 CAD / $2,375 USD

Screen_Shot_2015-06-26_at_11.39.10_AM.pngThis article first appeared in the Fall 2009 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. For more boat reviews, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Composite Creations’ Tandem River Runner: Double Dog Review

Two people paddling a red canoe through whitewater.
Release the hounds. | Photo: Virginia Marshall

Composite Creations is a tenacious example of outdoor escapism fuelled by industrialism. The man behind the creations—which include specialized parts for Bombardier Learjet, Sikorsky and Airbus—is Andy Phillips. Phillips has worked his way through composite materials courses and dusty experiments in his dad’s garage to become a Canadian Aviation Maintenance Council and FAA-recognized composite technician. He has the friendly, unassuming air of a small town hardware store manager and the sandpaper-and-stain enthusiasm to match.

Between devising stronger floats for experimental aircraft and grinding fiberglass for custom hotrods, Phillips designs and builds canoes from the same advanced materials he uses for his aeronautical projects. His distinctive canoes—like the new Double Dog tandem—now make up 40 percent of Composite Creations’ business.

DOUBLE DOG SPECS
Price: $2,800 CDN
Material: Kevlar/Carbon/S-glass
Length: 12’6
Width: 28”
Depth: 15”
Weight: 54 lbs
Outfitting: Mike Yee saddles and straps
compositecreations.ca

“We’re the orange County Choppers of boat building,” he laughs.

Phillips’ first commercial foray into boat building was the Bull Dog in 2000. From its flat planing hull, double hard chines and integrated air tanks to its sharp, Lamborghini Countach lines and Kevlar/carbon/s-glass lay-up, the Bull Dog looked and felt more like an Italian sports car than a classic Canadian canoe. Named for the notoriously feisty canine, the twitchy Bull Dog was designed to be a playful wave hound (pun intended) that adept boaters could surf, flat spin and roll.

Phillips followed up with the Splash, a beginner-friendly, solo whitewater canoe designed and sized just for kids. The boat was a hit with adventurous youths happy to strike out on their own. But many kids (and parents), Phillips knew, were fearful of so much autonomy.

Enter the Double Dog. Phillips says he designed the tandem river runner short and responsive so an adult can paddle with a child and still overpower the boat when necessary: “Watching the kid/parent race at the Gull River, I saw parents physically struggling to maintain [control of] a longer boat.” The Double Dog, he continues, provides more maneuverability as well as comforting stability for newer paddlers.

Where the Splash offered independence, the Double Dog provides the reassurance of learning with “someone literally just over your shoulder.” Essentially a Bull Dog cut in half and stretched to fit two, the tandem Dog shares the abrupt angles, wide planing hull, super-duty composite shell and integrated air tanks of its pedigree.

We took the prototype Double Dog to a rocky, ledge-strewn rapid to test Phillips’ claims of durability (check) and suitability for two adult paddlers (check…sort of). Remember, the idea is for a parent and kid team; the boat performs best with a combined paddler weight of less than 300 pounds. Ideal in Class I-III rapids, where it is nimble enough to carve into micro eddies and catch smaller waves, the Double Dog feels similar to an Esquif Blast only faster.

The low gunwales dipped into the water during our test runs and the sharp bow pierced the waves, making for a very wet ride for the bow paddler. The stern paddler, meanwhile, stayed dry thanks to the central air tank that creates two entirely separate cockpits. Phillips says the tradeoff for a wetter ride is that the low gunwales let kids and those with shorter torsos reach the water.

The prototype is still a work in progress. For example, Phillips is working on water rails for the forward and aft air tanks to divert bow and stern wash out under the gunwales rather than into the paddlers’ laps. After several months of testing this summer he expects to finalize the mould and begin production.

With the Double Dog, Phillips has created a wholly distinctive canoe targeted to a unique—and, he believes, under serviced—market. Positive early experiences are vital to fostering a lifelong love of paddling, and the Double Dog allows kids to grow into whitewater even as they grow into their own boats.

This article originally appeared in Rapid‘s Fall 2009 issue. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the archives here.


Release the hounds. | Photo: Virginia Marshall

Betcha Didn’t Know About Loons

Photo: istockphoto.com/Stephen Muskie
Betcha Didn't Know About Loons

Unlike the hollow bones of most birds, much of a loon skeleton is solid. The added weight aids in diving but makes it difficult to get airborne. Loons must swim into the wind or run across the water to create enough lift for take-off.

The average airspeed velocity of a migrating loon is 120 kilometres per hour (much faster than an unladen swallow—African or European).

Loons can stay underwater for almost a minute and dive to depths of 80 metres.

Loons have four distinct calls: A laughing tremolo signals alarm or greeting; a haunting wail is used during night chorusing with a mate and social interactions. A one-note hoot aids in locating or checking on family members; and every male has a unique yodeling call that it uses to defend its territory. 

The loon has internal air sacs that help it float. When threatened, it can empty these sacs to sink its body like a submarine, leaving only the head visible as a periscope.

The loonie is rooted in classic Canadian scandal. In 1987, a voyageur canoe like that depicted on the old silver dollar was chosen to grace the new Canadian one-dollar coin. Somehow, the master dies were “lost” during transit from Ottawa to the Royal Canadian Mint in Winnipeg. To avoid possible counterfeiting, the familiar loon design was substituted at the last minute.

Although the loon’s maniacal laugh gave us the phrase “crazy as a loon,” the term “loony” has entirely separate origins. Since Roman times, a widely believed theory held that exposure to moonlight—especially that of a full moon—caused madness. Those unhinged by the moon’s influence were known as “lunatics” from luna, the Latin word for moon. Loony is simply a slang version. 

This article was originally published in the 2009 Summer/Fall issue of CanoerootsThis article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2009 issue of Canoeroots Magazine.

 

Butt End: Losing my Shadow

Photo: Kevin Callan
Butt End: Losing my Shadow

An hour after my canoeing companion of 12 years had been euthanized, I put my feelings about her life on paper. I wrote up a list of Bailey’s faults and strengths, her crazier character traits and the stunts she pulled during a life that included more than 600 nights out on canoe trips.

I posted my thoughts on my blog that evening and by the end of the next day I had received more than 500 emails of condolences from people who either knew of Bailey or were trippers who also rejoiced in canine company.

I wouldn’t have guessed that so many people knew my dog (or read my blog, for that matter) but I suppose it makes sense, since she has appeared in a dozen books and countless magazine articles.

More surprising was the number of people who wrote about willingly subjecting themselves to the maddening appeal of canoeing with a dog. 

A CONSTANT COMPANION

Bringing Bailey along on trips was a challenge. I carried her specially designed pack full of kibble and chew toys more then she. She was the first to have breakfast, lunch and dinner. Her sun umbrella strapped to the gunwale and foam cushion glued to the belly of the canoe made portaging difficult. She insisted the bug shelter be put up for her immediately once we reached camp. I lifted her in or out of the canoe at every single put-in and take-out. 

Bailey was chased by skunks, porcupines, a lynx, raccoons, hawks, snakes, swarms of hornets, one nasty chipmunk, and a couple of black bears (some of which followed her right back toward me). She loved rolling in crap. When she was in the canoe she whined to be lifted out and once out she whined to be put in. Every time I hooked into a fish the ever-helpful dog would try to retrieve it for me.

So, why did I, and all those other dog owners, put up with dog paddling? It wasn’t just because by attracting all the bugs she made a good shoofly-pie, or that she could sense a thunderstorm better than any polyester-clad weatherman or that if it weren’t for her ability to sniff out a trail I’d still be on one particularly confusing portage on the Steel River.

I loved tripping with Bailey because she never once left my side. She was a constant companion, no questions asked. My daughter, Kyla, even nicknamed her my shadow. How I miss my shadow. I doubt that canoe tripping will ever be the same without her.

Rest in peace my dear friend.

Kevin Callan won’t comment on rumours that Bailey was named for his favourite drink. 

This article on the loss of a pet was published in the Early Summer 2009 issue of Canoeroots magazine.This article first appeared in the Early Summer 2009 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Canoeroots’ print and digital editions here.

Betcha Didn’t Know About Inukshuk

Photo: iStockphoto.com/Shaun lowe
Betcha Didn't Know About Inukshuk
  • To pluralize the word inukshuk is a literary faux pas. Several of these stone figures are called inuksuit.
  • There are two forms of inuksuit. A figure with arms is called an inunnguaq and translates to “likeness of a person” in the Inuit language. A figure without arms is called an inukshuk, meaning “function of a person”.
  • An inunnguaq is pictured on the cover of Rush’s 1996 album Test for Echo. We’re not sure why.
  • Inuksuit are used across the Arctic from Alaska to Greenland for communication and navigation. In this featureless landscape, they are akin to tree blazes.
  • An inunnguaq’s arms may point in the direction of a navigable channel, a mountain pass or a migration route. An inukshuk can mark a food cache, a site with good fishing or a place where white children were bored.
  • Inuit tradition forbids the destruction of inuksuit in their homeland. This tradition does not hold true for the hundreds of imposters along the Trans-Canada Highway and wilderness park trails. Killarney Provincial Park issued a notice in 2007 urging visitors to “stop the invasion” of inuksuit.
  • In 1999, an inukshuk was chosen to grace the flag of Canada’s newest territory, Nunavut. The stone figure is also the 2010 Winter Olympics logo, in recognition of the inukshuk that watches over Vancouver’s English Bay.
  • The world’s largest inukshuk is located in Schomberg, ontario. Nicknamed Little Joe, it stands over 11 metres high and is formed of 11 granite slabs totalling 82,000 kilograms.
  • Inuksuit have come to symbolize cooperation and friendship. Each stone is chosen for how well it fits together with the other stones and the assembly is secured entirely through balance. 

This article on inukshuk was published in the Early Summer 2009 issue of Canoeroots magazine.This article first appeared in the Early Summer 2009 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Canoeroots’ print and digital editions here.

Skills: Get a Leg Up

Photo: Paul Villecourt/Helipress.com
Skills: Get a Leg Up

The thought of tossing a 16-foot canoe over your head and down onto the base of your neck can be intimidating—until you’ve been schooled in the finer technical points of the one-person canoe lift. As impressive as it looks, the weight of the canoe is easily managed by most canoeists. The secret is to position yourself properly, let your legs do the heavy lifting and be sure to keep good time when you rock and roll the canoe onto your shoulders. 

  • Find an area with no obstructions, stand at the centre of the canoe and grasp the closest gunwale with your hands about shoulder-width apart. 
  • Bend your knees and slide the canoe up your legs so it is resting on your thighs. 
  • Begin a gentle rocking motion to build momentum and establish your timing. When ready, use the leg closest to the bow to heave the canoe up so you can grab the far gunwale with your hand closest to the bow. You are now holding the canoe with your bow-side hand on the far gunwale and the stern-side hand on the near gunwale. The canoe’s weight is supported by your bow-side leg. 
  • Initiate another rocking motion using the strong muscles of your bow-side leg. Pick your moment and with a lift from your leg flip the canoe above your head so it follows an arc guided by your bow-side arm. 
  • Duck your head forward slightly as the gunwale and yoke finish the roll. Settle the yoke down on your shoulders. 
  • As you are swinging the canoe over your head you should be rotating your stance so you finish with your body facing the bow. 

With a quick hop to help lift the canoe off your head you can reverse these steps to unload the canoe. And though you will be tempted to let other paddlers continue in the belief that this is a strenuous manoeuvre, pass on the tip of using the bow-side leg to propel the canoe upward and you’ll find you soon have other people offering to share the portaging load.

Andrew Westwood is an open canoe instructor at the Madawaska Kanu Centre, a member of Team Esquif and the author of The Essential Guide to Canoeing, from which this article was excerpted. 

This article on canoe technique was published in the Early Summer 2009 issue of Canoeroots magazine.This article first appeared in the Early Summer 2009 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Canoeroots’ print and digital editions here.