Henk Aling started the discussion with the following email:

Yesterday I practiced landing in a light surf at Goleta Beach with a 12" diameter sea anchor attached to the stern on a 3 yard line. That little drogue changed the landing experience dramatically. Whereas even in a light surf it's easy to get swept sideways, the drogue pulled me back so all waves passed underneath me, letting me land slowly and in complete control while paddling forward. It eliminated the need for the usual high-risk braking on the wave front while trying keep the boat straight.

I am curious if anyone has recommendations (drogue size, cord length, surf size) or if this is to be recommended at all. The only reference I've found so far is in "Complete Sea Kayak Touring" by Jonathan Hanson, but that was about landing backwards with a sea anchor attached to the bow (the usual place).

Disclaimer: I've experimented with this just once in a light surf, I'm not recommending this technique to anyone and I'm not suggesting that drogues should be attached to the stern. Just in case.

George Miller:

I haven't used sea anchors on kayaks, but I have employed them on powerboats.

They're a great way to keep boats pointed into the wind (not always also into the seas) and to slow down wind drift. Strong currents may create unpredictable results.

The application Henk described sounds good, but beware of snagging the sea anchor in shallow water on the rocks, branches, kelp or other obstructions, unless it is designed for that. Most sea anchors are basically underwater parachutes.

Make sure that you can release it FAST if something goes wrong (it snags, gets tangled on your boat, or some other object).

Good sea anchors have "trapdoor" mechanisms, so that you can release the force to take them back in.

You can get some of the effect of a sea anchor simply by trailing a long line. This is known as a "warp" and is commonly used by mariners in heavy following seas to help avoid broaching.

You can drag all sorts of stuff behind you and get a similar effect. How about old copies of Sea Kayaker magazine (if I haven't already read them)?

Duane Strosaker:

I've heard of old Sea Kayaker Magazine article written by Steph Dutton about landing through surf with a sea anchor. I checked the "Back Issues in Stock" section of the latest issue and found the article listed in issue "45. Vol. 12 No. 1, Apr 1995." If someone is really interested in learning more about this technique, it may be worth purchasing.

However, I'd recommend learning how to brace and side surf instead. I have a sea anchor, played around with it to see how it slowed my drifting, and found it to be something that just gets in the way and is more trouble than it is worth. I'd much rather side surf in than bother with using a sea anchor. Once you can brace and side surf, landing through the surf zone is usually a piece of cake.

Stephen Nestel:

I'd be worried about tangling up in the line after a wipeout. There are some conditions you shouldn't attempt to land in. I advocate pushing your limits slowly until you build confidence in dealing with rough seas.

My technique for a surf landing is to watch the surf carefully and PADDLE LIKE HELL when you see an opening. If you can maintain yourself just behind the wavecrest, you can usually achieve a dry landing, though you might have to deal with a small following wave just before reaching the beach. Good bracing and cross wave surfing will make this managable.

Jerry Goldner:

I found plans on how to make your own sea anchor at johnsbigplans.hypermart.net/jbp_sa1.html If anyone out there builds this, let me know how well it works in the surf zone.

I wonder how a touring kayak would act in a surf landing with the RUDDER down?

Has anyone ever tried this?

Steve Brown:

If you get back surfed, you'll need a new rudder.

My main concern with the sea anchor is what effect it may have in large violent (plunging or curling) surf in the greater than six foot range. What happens to your torso when the boat is held in place while one of these huge breakers? It seems like something that could cause severe back injury, but maybe I'm overestimating the braking power of the sea anchor.

It is ill advised to land with the rudder down. Even the slightest broach will bend and possibly break the rudder. The lateral forces could be extreme enough to damage the hull at the point of attachment of the rudder assembly. DO NOT DO THAT

George Miller:

I've landed with the rudder down several times, mainly because of short term memory problems. Never sustained any damage. Don't recommend it.

Most, but not all, newer rudders will flex enough to avoid breakage, let alone hull damage. But, I have seen some massive aluminum rudders and/or flimsy mountings-- these are accidents waiting to happen. If the rudder is stiff enough and the lateral force great enough, Dr. Karten's dire predictions could certainly be realized. This winters' carnage reports certainly proved that most kayaks aren't bulletproof.

Back in January, I was surfing my 17' Perception Eclipse in heavy weather off Channel Islands Harbor, with the rudder UP (not deployed). I did a back ender on a large merger of two waves (actually the waves did it to ME), and rammed my boat stern first, with great force, right down to the bottom and tore off the rudder.

Perception designed a heavy rudder pin, anchored into a nylon block, sitting on a very substantial cast aluminum hull mounting, well-secured. The collision force ripped the pin out of the block, causing no other damage and leaving the rudder hanging on its cables. Southwind Kayak sent me a new block and pin, which I replaced in about 15 minutes.

A rudder down landing story from Dr. Paddle:

I have a fun rudder-down landing story. My wife and I launched through surf in our Libra double with another double from an isolated, rocky cove near Santo Tomas in Northern Baja. The fog closed in around us soon after we launched. We spent a couple hours fishing around some offshore rocks, then decided to head back in.

Back at the cove, though, the tide had come up a couple feet. The beach we had launched from was now host to dumping surf with big crisscrossing reflections from the side walls. There were no alternatives along the rocky shoreline, however, so we had to go in.

My wife, in the front cockpit, suggested that I take the boat in alone while she swam for her life. She's very considerate that way. I'm not sure how I kept her from bailing out, but I may have mentioned sharks or jellyfish or public humiliation.

The two strong, experienced paddlers in the other double went in first. They timed it perfectly, creeping in until a wave passed below them, then sprinting in behind the crest. They braced through a nasty reflection, broached at the last moment, and landed rather gracefully. The front paddler popped his skirt and hopped out. Before the rear paddler could escape, though, a big dumping wave ground him and his boat into the sand, dragging them 20 feet along the beach and scattering gear and bits of flesh everywhere. This did not reassure my wife.

It was our time to make the run. Now understand, my wife is no wimp. She was on a team that got second in the world outrigger canoe championships in Tahiti only a couple years earlier. She's strong, skilled, and an excellent rough water swimmer. Seeing our friend get pummelled had unnerved her a bit, though.

The waves were big. The reflections were nasty. Jagged rocks poked above the chop between us and the sand. The tide was still rising, and the beach would be completely inaccessible before long. We couldn't wait any longer.

I started the run with the rudder down to give me control through the reflections; one swerve and I'd smack on the rocks. My intent was to stow the rudder just before landing. The best laid plans...

I waited out the set and made a run behind a smaller swell. We were jamming hard, but the wave still outran us. The beach was getting close, but it didn't get close fast enough. A reflection hit from the right and twisted us just as a following steep-faced swell picked up the stern. "BRACE OR DIE!!" I yelled.

We hung honkin' high braces into the wave face while it lifted us up like we were riding the curve of a bullwhip about to crack. I looked down on dry sand far below. Then WHAM!! We were grounded. The rudder shot straight up in the air, snapped against the taught cables, and crashed down on the rear deck. The wave receeded without sliding us an inch further. We popped the skirts, hauled the boat up the beach a few feet, and enjoyed the whooping applause of our friends.

Back to Tips