In the 1980s, sea kayaking was just becoming popular in the Great Lakes. I was lucky enough to become part of a community of paddlers led by Stan Chladek, an outspoken Czech immigrant who first brought Valley sea kayaks and the BCU to North America. In April 1988, Chladek invited five of us on a trip along the coastline of Lake Superior Provincial Park that he dubbed the “Icebreaker Rendezvous.”
We launched near Wawa, Ontario, and spent two days paddling in perfect weather. On our third day we stopped early at Noisy Bay, a steep beach of melon-sized rocks within a two-hour paddle from the take-out. At this point, I started getting nervous. This would be an awful place in bad weather. But I was the new guy in the group and kept my concerns to myself.
Sure enough, within minutes of making camp, the wind picked up. It blew 30 knots all night, driving crashing surf into our cobblestone campsite. I barely slept a wink. At dawn, I found an old footpath leading to the highway and thought, prob- lem solved. I could pick up my boat later. But at some point, I changed my mind and started getting psyched about conquering the towering waves. I rushed the group through breakfast and hurriedly climbed into my drysuit.
KNOCKED OVER INTO THE ICE COLD WATER
Dave Ide, a strong paddler who would become North America’s first BCU coach, launched first. His 18-foot Nordkapp nearly pitchpoled backwards onto the rocky beach, but he powered through the breakers. I launched next and promptly got May- tagged and pounded back into the shore. As if this wasn’t good enough, I tried again, this time clawing my way beyond the surf.
Things went well for a kilometre or two until I was knocked over by a three-metre wave. I made a half-assed attempt to roll in the ice-cold water before wet exiting. The guys got me back into my boat and Ide clipped in with his towline. I sat helpless with a float on each paddle blade for stability. It took Dave an agonizing three hours to tow me the seven-odd kilometres to Michipicoten.
The accident really shook me up. My zeal for rough-water paddling was gone. When things really go wrong and you’re in the water, it is far worse than you can possibly imagine. Later, as I made my way through the ranks of the BCU, I had good reason to believe their mantra of placing sound judgment above all else.
Bruce Lash is a firefighter and sea kayak guide living in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. He began sea kayaking in the early 1980s.
