Patrick Martin, Inuit Peter O'Sullivan (or the Paddler Formerly Known as Pyro) and I had decided we wanted to just play around today so that Patrick and Peter could learn more about their new boats, and I could learn a little more about my new GP.

I sent Patrick a copy of the weather forecast yesterday, because it looked like we would get a good workout.

SAT...NW WIND 15 TO 20 KT. WIND WAVES 2 TO 4 FT. W SWELL 8 TO 10 FT AT 13 SECONDS.

Patrick replied "Wind waves at 4' and swell at 10' may send me running for high ground. I'm skeptical about going out if the breakwater is missing."

Well, the three of us met this morning and found the winds hadn't built yet, but the waves were breaking over the breakwater. George El Speedo Miller showed up with his surf boat and the four of us headed out. This was the first time I ever paddled faster than George. Of course he was in a little short surf boat and I was in a 17' sea kayak. I have witnesses to this, but I suspect George was going easy on me.

As Patrick, Peter, and I got to the end of the jetty, we found what looked like a tide rip or tidal race behind the breakwater. There were standing waves and it looked like fun. We headed into it and I was really glad I had decided not to take my camera. There was no way I could put my paddle down to handle one. Patrick had the same thoughts. I exited the race first and found that the "small" waves in it were actually about 3'. Both Patrick and Peter would be totally hidden when the went behind one.

After playing in the race for a while, Patrick decided we should go to the west end of the breakwater where the waves were really steep and breaking. So like lemmings we followed him. Peter went in first and got right to the worst spot. Patrick was a little further west, and I was just behind Patrick where the waves were getting even steeper. I had to watch Patrick very closely because we were continuously getting surfed backwards and I did not want him to become a hood ornament on the bow of my boat. Several of the breaking waves caused us to go airborne and we were having a blast. I pulled a piece of bamboo out of the water - Was this from Indonesia or the Mal Dives? Looked like it had "Greg was here" carved into it.

Suddenly I saw one break right on Patrick's bow and a 1 1/2 foot high wall of white water was coming at my left quarter. I didn't have time to try and turn my bow into it, so I just sweeped until I was sideways to it and leaned aggressively while putting my paddle out into a sculling brace. Unfortunately, the "white water" was really foam. As I aggressively leaned into it, there was nothing for my paddle to brace on - it was all an optical illusion. My lean kept going without a brace and soon I was under water.

"No problem", I thought. "This is a great time to try my first combat roll." Sadly this was not to be. The boat and my paddle were continuously moving in different directions and I could not get into a set up position before I ran out of air. I quickly wet exited in this surf zone and Peter came over right away. We called for Pat to come over with the tow line he has wearing and tow me an my boat out of the surf zone on the beach that we were now headed into.

Peter has modified his tow line so that only the long 45' sea version is available. His short 12' side has been cut down to about 3 foot which was totally inappropriate for these conditions. Patrick handed me the line and I hooked it to my bow and held onto the boat. Unknown to me or Patrick, Peter capsized twice on the way out of that stuff, but was able to roll up each time. By the time Patrick took the slack out of the line, I was in an area where we could safely do a "T" rescue so we really didn't need to tow in that fast current.

Peter was in his new SOF (built by CKF'r Inuit John Peterson) and I kept looking at that low back deck and thinking, if I have any trouble getting up onto my deck in all of this rough water, I'll just do a "my deck, your deck" assisted rescue. Fortunately, there was no problem with my getting up onto my boat. As I swiveled to get my feet into the cockpit, Peter was telling me to wait. I had no idea why and really just wanted to get back in the boat. Finally I understood that that tow line was wrapped around my ankles and Peter couldn't reach them.

Patrick then came by, untangled the line, and I got back in the boat. With the skirt almost back on, I was able to sponge out the remaining water, and we then went back out to the rougher stuff. That is I should say Peter and Patrick did. I stayed about 25 feet behind them and just practiced in the waves. I wasn't getting caught in that dreaded foam again.

Finally we had enough, and went back to paddle the harbor - after we played in the tide race again. While we were in the harbor, Patrick came across a fabric type back-rest that looks like a little chair that people use to sit up in bed. He tried to pull it up out of the water and couldn't. Then he tried to lift it onto his boat, but it was too heavy. I came over, and managed to attach my cow tail to it and I towed it to a dock. As I was towing it, my left foot kept sliding further and further forward. I finally realized that my foot peg was not holding. With Patrick's assistance, I was able to get out onto the high dock, pull my boat from the water, adjust the peg, then pull the back rest out of the water (it must have weighed 150 lbs). We kept teasing Peter that it felt like it might be a seal that he had killed with a harpoon.

We then paddled back and watched all of the boats that we had seen going towards the harbor entrance, coming back. Seems the water was too rough for all but the bigger sailboats. Even the commercial fisherman were turning back.

Patrick had plans so he couldn't stay for lunch but Peter and I went to Daddy-O's and talked of coming out again tomorrow.

Steve Holtzman