Questionable Decisions
Despite my capsize on Lake Mendota, I was eager to continue improving my skills with my new sea kayak. I got my next opportunity the next weekend. All morning and much of the afternoon had been sunny and calm, so I decided to revisit Waubesa Lake, where I had spent a couple hours on my first trip to the Madison area. Putting in at Lake Farm Park, I followed the shore south, again thinking of circumnavigating the lake, maybe seeing McFarland for the first time on my way back. But I didn’t get that far. After about twenty minutes on the lake, the wind started to pick up, the waves got choppy, and I was battling just to stay afloat. I turned back as dark clouds roiled overhead, thunder cracked nearby, and a torrent of stiff, cold rain fell, drenching me within seconds. I made it back to the dock without capsizing, got out, and packed up. I had made the assumption that the nice weather would continue, and hadn’t bothered to check the weather before departing. Another lesson learned.
Two weeks later in early May, I exercised some of the worst judgement to date. I decided to take a crack at Lake Wisconsin, and put in at Sunset Harbor. It was an exceptionally windy day, and my plan was to make it to Bell Island to read my book, then come back. Bell Island is about a quarter of a mile offshore. I knew - given the wind - that the waves would be extremely choppy, and wanted to test my ability to kayak through those conditions. With the island so close to shore, I’d easily be able to swim back in the case of a capsize. I made it to the island without issue, then circled it. All fine. This is where the problem started. I think my original plan was sound. But I was building confidence on the water, and I let my confidence get away from me. I decided to change my plans and continue near the shore. My motivation for doing so was to see the Merrimac Ferry and possibly get ice cream and a refill of my water bottle at the stands there or on the other side.
As I went around the point, I considered making a crossing to the other side, testing my ability to stay on course despite the wind and waves. I turned, paddling away from shore. Four foot waves crested over the bow of the kayak as a gusty 20-34 kt wind aggravated the water. Within minutes, the waves exceeded my ability to counter them, and the boat flipped, plunging me into the warm water below. I drained the water from and flipped my kayak, throwing my hat, water bottle, ankle cushion, and paddle into it. I heaved my chest over the aft side of the cockpit, but found I barely had the strength to hold on, let alone the power to bring my legs back into the boat. The waves surged around me, flipping the boat again. I drained and flipped it again, watching my hat and seat cushion blow away. I clung tightly to the vessel, clutching my paddle in one hand, the deck lines in the other. Trying to get back in wasn’t working, and it was sapping my energy. Looking back to shore, I knew that even with the wind and the waves, I could swim that distance. Pulling the kayak behind me, I slowly swam to shore. I saw a guy come out to his dock on the lake to cheer me on. When I reached the rocks at the edge of the lake, he helped pull my kayak up onto his lawn and got me some water while I dried off and put my shoes on. He generously drove me back to the dock to get my car and helped me secure the kayak to my roof. The things I lost on the lake were all replaceable, and the least of my worries at the time. While I do think going back and forth between the dock and the island would have been fine, continuing on ranks among the stupidest things I have ever done. That day, I tested my skill at swimming in an emergency, and while I proved that I am a good swimmer, the failure of judgement is that I should never have ended up needing to try that in the first place.
I learned a few lessons from that experience: (i) Equipment. I need to have the right equipment with me. A pump, a sponge, a paddle float, a skirt, more dry bags … all needed and would have helped. (ii) Training. I need proper training on kayak rolls and other forms of self recovery. (iii) Practice. I need to practice these forms of recovery so I can actually do them when the time calls. (iv) Company. Ideally, I should be with other paddlers if I venture far from shore. Ultimately, I need to be self-reliant as a paddler, but kayaking with others helps mitigate some of the risk. (v) Conditions. I need a better sense of what weather will prove too difficult. My new rule of thumb is that if it’s too windy to fly, it’s too windy to kayak.
