07 May 2019
Returning to my roots: motorcycles
Sea kayaking is no longer what it once was, for me.
I used to have a close-knit group of enthusiastic kayakers that was interested in challenging paddles, camping trips or advancing skills. The people and the activities wed did was the driving force for me to be on the water.
Between the major events I would also fill-in my desire to be outside with day paddles, often in calm waters. The Bay offers sheltered water were limited skills will still get you paddling.
Unfortunately the day paddles became all I would do as the skilled paddlers that once enjoy the surf have moved on; slowly sea kayaking lost its appeal to the point I would not paddle for months.
I am now no longer paddle-fit and I don't think I could go a long distance trip.
It also happened that my focus has shifted to the land.
Before sea kayaking for me there was backpacking (bushwalking off track) and adventures in the mountains. I need being in nature more than the physical activity itself. And prior to backpacking there used to be adventure motorcycle riding, before the word "adventure motorcycle" was even a thing.
I would load up my trail bike with light camping gear and head West, seeking dirt roads and forest tracks. At the end of the day we would find a secluded spot and camp. There was nobody else out there, we were it.
The passion for two wheels has now been rekindled. For the last year I have been riding a light road bike that I desire to actually take in the dirt. Call it a scrambler.
Australia is blessed with a lot of rural country that has a network of dirt roads, from logging tracks in the forest to unsealed roads in the grazing country.
And while I dream of being out in the open space in the West, I satisfy my needs for a ride closer to home, just outside the city. Sometimes a simple ride after work can give me the buzz I need.
Here is a collection of images taken by Petra Ries, edited into a slide-show.
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29 September 2016
West Coast Dream
The wind was blowing that afternoon as we crested the coastal hill to view what lays ahead for tomorrow's paddle.
select 1080p to view video in full HD glory
Johan Wirsen offered us to test two new kayak he recently designed: the Rebel Husky and Big Dog.
We were now paddling the West Coast of Sweden, North of Gothenburg towards the Norwegian border.
We mounted sails onto the decks for added fun hoping that the wind will push us along.
*This video is a follow up on the theme: I have a Dream
03 September 2015
Photo: camp at Japanese Gardens
After one of the most intense days of paddling and sailing in swell against rebound against high cliffs the sheltered camp location we found was stunning.
The carefully arranged although natural setting of little ponds and low vegetation reminded me the look of Japanese gardens.
more images appear on my photo blog
Polished granite slabs make camping easy as nothing gets dirty while sitting down and dinner can be had without sand in it.
Sunset only came very late and was not fully dark when we finally retired for the night.
Sea kayaking at very high latitudes has its advantages even if sea temperatures are not as balmy as back in Queensland.
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The carefully arranged although natural setting of little ponds and low vegetation reminded me the look of Japanese gardens.
more images appear on my photo blog
Polished granite slabs make camping easy as nothing gets dirty while sitting down and dinner can be had without sand in it.
Sunset only came very late and was not fully dark when we finally retired for the night.
Sea kayaking at very high latitudes has its advantages even if sea temperatures are not as balmy as back in Queensland.
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25 June 2015
Digital camera hand grip modification
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I reached the limit of tolerance with my pocket compact digital camera as I realized my images were lacking sharpness when light conditions were not ideal.
Most of my images are displayed on monitors (web use) and only occasionally I print the very best pictures of mine.
While all images look great when displayed small things don't look so good once they are enlarged.
Add, low light and the tiny lenses of most compact cameras suddenly look a bit fuzzy.
If you believe that the images you take on your smart phone are good enough, then don't need to read any further: you are wasting you time.
I want better results for my photographic efforts but I refuse to schlep a large camera with me.
Weight and bulk are always my concern (some say, personal too :-) but gone are the days of toting around a large heavy camera.
If the subjects that I want to photograph would be within reach of a short walk away from the car I would worry less, but when I take my cameras in a backpack and lug it around for days in the back country, or it has to fit inside my kayak on extended trips, then size does matter.
Olympus camera and lens compared to Nikon, similar focal length, same f/stop
For my second trip to Scandinavia I wanted to have a higher quality camera, one that allows me to apply my skills and one that would reward my creativity. My intention was no longer to simply record my trip, I wanted images I would be happy to hang on my wall.
The Micro Four Thirds system of cameras is the perfect compromise for me: images are sharp and the cameras have features than no other system has, size being one of the major ones.
I can afford to have a camera body and a couple of lenses with me and not really feel it in my backpack, something I could not do with a lot of DSLRs.
But where the Micro 4/3 system excels it also poses some problems with users with slightly bigger hands: the hand grips are often a bit small.
As I started to attach larger/heavier lenses on my Olympus cameras I felt that the grip was a bit diminutive and I had to clutch the camera too tightly.
I could use their Pro models but that would defeat the idea of compact and light: I just wanted a better grip, not a bigger camera.
same image sensor, different body, same image result
Commercially available add-on grips look too bulky (no need to have a base plate bolted to the bottom if one is not needed) and the glue-on aftermarket grips were not available for the camera I was using.
However those aftermarket grips looked really good and that prompted me to come up with my own DIY modified hand grips.
commercially available stick-on grip, here
I used Sugru, a silicon putty that feels like Plasticine but cures hard like rubber, sticks well and does not feel too slippery.
A small packet of Sugru contain enough material to shape a single grip if a large one is desired, or just enough for two smaller ones. Bright colors are available but I went with conservative black.
I have so far modified an Olympus E-PM2 (smallest of the M4/3 series) a couple of E-P5 and several E-M5.
Olympus E-PM2
Once the putty is kneaded and then firmly pressed onto the existing small protrusion where the fingers grip the camera, I shape the soft material with a small bladed knife to create a clean edge.
A moistened index finger keeps on shaping the putty until I am happy with the overall shape, then I run the back of the knife blade to create a perfectly uniform surface (not bumpy).
If the form of the grip is in its final shape I like to add some texture to enhance the surface and create more friction for my fingers.
Olympus E-P5
Here I use a combination of pins, pen ends (to create little circles) and an old toothbrush for finer texture.
I try to achieve a look that matches the existing camera finish but I simply will never be able to replicate the faux leather surface.
Before I let the camera rest to cure I check that there are no bits of stray silicon putty on the grip, where I don't want it.
While the cured silicon does become hard like rubber it is not impossible to remove it mechanically but one needs to scrape vigorously to get it off.
Olympus E-M5
I have seen some photographers push their fingers into the soft putty before it's cured to have an "imprint" look; I go for a more universal one where the grip is an extension of the original one and less fully-custom.
Olympus E-M5 and E-P5, modified grips
The grip on my Olympus cameras is now much more positive: my fingers don't have to clutch the body so tightly and the softer grip fatigues my hand much less when on longer photo shoots.
.
I reached the limit of tolerance with my pocket compact digital camera as I realized my images were lacking sharpness when light conditions were not ideal.
Most of my images are displayed on monitors (web use) and only occasionally I print the very best pictures of mine.
While all images look great when displayed small things don't look so good once they are enlarged.
Add, low light and the tiny lenses of most compact cameras suddenly look a bit fuzzy.
If you believe that the images you take on your smart phone are good enough, then don't need to read any further: you are wasting you time.
I want better results for my photographic efforts but I refuse to schlep a large camera with me.
Weight and bulk are always my concern (some say, personal too :-) but gone are the days of toting around a large heavy camera.
If the subjects that I want to photograph would be within reach of a short walk away from the car I would worry less, but when I take my cameras in a backpack and lug it around for days in the back country, or it has to fit inside my kayak on extended trips, then size does matter.
Olympus camera and lens compared to Nikon, similar focal length, same f/stop
For my second trip to Scandinavia I wanted to have a higher quality camera, one that allows me to apply my skills and one that would reward my creativity. My intention was no longer to simply record my trip, I wanted images I would be happy to hang on my wall.
The Micro Four Thirds system of cameras is the perfect compromise for me: images are sharp and the cameras have features than no other system has, size being one of the major ones.
I can afford to have a camera body and a couple of lenses with me and not really feel it in my backpack, something I could not do with a lot of DSLRs.
But where the Micro 4/3 system excels it also poses some problems with users with slightly bigger hands: the hand grips are often a bit small.
As I started to attach larger/heavier lenses on my Olympus cameras I felt that the grip was a bit diminutive and I had to clutch the camera too tightly.
I could use their Pro models but that would defeat the idea of compact and light: I just wanted a better grip, not a bigger camera.
same image sensor, different body, same image result
Commercially available add-on grips look too bulky (no need to have a base plate bolted to the bottom if one is not needed) and the glue-on aftermarket grips were not available for the camera I was using.
However those aftermarket grips looked really good and that prompted me to come up with my own DIY modified hand grips.
commercially available stick-on grip, here
I used Sugru, a silicon putty that feels like Plasticine but cures hard like rubber, sticks well and does not feel too slippery.
A small packet of Sugru contain enough material to shape a single grip if a large one is desired, or just enough for two smaller ones. Bright colors are available but I went with conservative black.
I have so far modified an Olympus E-PM2 (smallest of the M4/3 series) a couple of E-P5 and several E-M5.
Olympus E-PM2
Once the putty is kneaded and then firmly pressed onto the existing small protrusion where the fingers grip the camera, I shape the soft material with a small bladed knife to create a clean edge.
A moistened index finger keeps on shaping the putty until I am happy with the overall shape, then I run the back of the knife blade to create a perfectly uniform surface (not bumpy).
If the form of the grip is in its final shape I like to add some texture to enhance the surface and create more friction for my fingers.
Olympus E-P5
Here I use a combination of pins, pen ends (to create little circles) and an old toothbrush for finer texture.
I try to achieve a look that matches the existing camera finish but I simply will never be able to replicate the faux leather surface.
Before I let the camera rest to cure I check that there are no bits of stray silicon putty on the grip, where I don't want it.
While the cured silicon does become hard like rubber it is not impossible to remove it mechanically but one needs to scrape vigorously to get it off.
Olympus E-M5
I have seen some photographers push their fingers into the soft putty before it's cured to have an "imprint" look; I go for a more universal one where the grip is an extension of the original one and less fully-custom.
Olympus E-M5 and E-P5, modified grips
The grip on my Olympus cameras is now much more positive: my fingers don't have to clutch the body so tightly and the softer grip fatigues my hand much less when on longer photo shoots.
.
15 June 2015
Hail hell
by Tess Dodd_Adveturetess
I am almost halfway across, enjoying leaving the demands of a busy morning further behind me with every paddle stroke. My thoughts are filled with plans to paddle in Alaska.
Reading Audrey Sutherland’s books (87 days solo kayaking in Alaska, swimming and kayaking remote sections of the Hawaii coast); I recognized her spirit and felt inspired by her adventures. I spend many hours vicariously sharing her inflatable canoe. A deep rumble draws my attention to my right. I was no longer sharing Audrey’s inflatable canoe in Alaska, but alone in my Nordkapp in Moreton Bay.
Looking south, I can see darkness on the horizon. It’s distant and appears to be moving across the lower bay, out to sea, away from me. I can see the strip of white sand where my friends are camped. I know it’s not far for me to paddle now. I stop day dreaming and increase my cadence, keen to reach the beach before any rain falls. I don't fancy setting up my tent in the rain.
Loud rumble. The storm is moving closer to me but still appears to be tracking out to sea. I stop paddling to hydrate and consider my options: I am closer to my destination than any other land.
If the storm moves towards me and not out to sea, no matter which direction I take now, I am going to get wet. I decide to continue my original course.
Before I move on, a sea turtles large head breaks the surface nearby, taking a huge gasp of air before sinking below. I notice a large shadow to the right, too big for a turtle, maybe a dugong? The shadow moves closer, rising from below to bump my boat, moving it with its body. Far out, a shark! It brushes my kayak as it moves away; I drop my drink hose, pick up my paddle and get moving.
Storm approaching, viewed from Blakelseys Landing _photo Gill Booysen
I can see 2 motor launches near the island heading for anchor. Other watercraft have disappeared. At least I won’t have to worry about being hit by a boat out here.
BOOM… a BIG thunder clap. Louder. Closer.
The cell is moving as fast as my heart is beating – fast! I know I will soon be engulfed by this heaving beast. OK Tessie, don’t panic. Relax, think clearly, and make a plan. Stow the sail securely on deck. Point the kayak into it. Prepare to brace. (Larry Gray ‘storm brace’ technique – it works).
I glance behind me and see sunshine and blue sky. Bizarre. Ahead, I see people moving about on the beach, the storm cell has not quite reached them. I think about my friends and wonder if they can see me out here, knowing they can’t. I don’t want them to be worried about me. I wish I was with them right now. Looking into a sky that is now a deeper green than the water, I realize it’s going to hail.
I think of Australian Ironman Grant Kenny who was out training on his ski when a sudden hailstorm hit. The hail stones cut his head open. He flipped his ski over and used it for protection until the storm passed.
After the earlier shark bump, I was really hoping I would NOT end up in the water today, but knew I may not have a choice. I also hoped for small hail stones and a fast storm. The transforming beast of green and black was almost upon me. I could feel my body trembling, adrenaline I guess.
BOOM. …BOOM…crackle…The vibrations travel through me. I can no longer see the beach. The wind increases slightly as large drops of rain begin hitting the water around the kayak. It is a strangely beautiful moment. A bird sitting in the water just ahead dives below and does not reappear. Darkness wraps around me. Shit! A wave of anxiety washes through me. My senses tingle as I wait. Suddenly, a raspy sound becomes an almighty roar, heralding it’s arrival. I try to point the bow into it, bracing. The ferocious blast is more than I have ever experienced in the kayak before, EVER.
meanwhile on shore...
I struggle to stay upright, my ears fill with the roar of the wind, waves wash over my deck, my body is physically forced backwards over the deck. I bend forward trying to lessen the effects of the wind on my body. The drops of rain become bigger and the waves smaller. My saturated hat brim is down around my face. I can’t see or hear over the roar and have no idea what’s coming next. I focus on staying upright. A new sound joins the melee. Crack. Crack. Crack. Then, I feel it. HAIL! Hailstones begin hitting my head, my arms, my hands. Hail ricochets off the kayak painfully hitting my face and teeth! The hailstones increase in size. Taking one hand off the paddle, I cover the top of my head until my fingers hurt from the stinging ice. There is no relief. The noise is deafening. The hailstones bruise and sting where they hit my body. If this continues, I will have to get in the water for shelter. I don’t know how long the storm lasts, but neither of my hopes comes true. The hailstones are large and the storm is not over quickly. I endure an icy beating from Mother Nature until the storm cell eventually moves over me, the hail and wind easing to leave only gentle rain hitting my bruised face and body.
After storm selfie
Once again able to see, I look towards the island. It is further away but, in front of me is the bizarre sight of half the beach covered in grey sky, half blue sky with a rainbow…half storm, half rainbow! I self-assess. My kayak is still upright. I am beaten up but OK. I am close to tears, instead of crying, I begin laughing. Strange, stress relief laughter. I feel spent, alone and ready to resign the ‘Adventure’ from AdventureTess.
But, I am in the middle of the bay and need to get moving again. The storm is north of me now, cutting a swathe over the water and Dunwich on the west coast of the island. I have a clear view of blue sky either side of this intense black and green field of energy. Eager to see my friends, I pick up my paddle and begin the work to reach them. I have been blown away from the island, so have additional distance to make up. While paddling, I reflect on the experience and my choices that day. I believe I made good choices and would have felt some comfort with company, but would company have created an additional concern? Using the last of my energy, I reach the beach. People are moving about, fixing campsites, and checking boats. I see my friends and call out. Relief floods through me as they make their way to the water’s edge to meet me.
Note: I launched just after lunch to paddle 10km to meet my friends, who were waiting at camp. Conditions were mild. The water was bumpy with a 10 to 15kn headwind. A possible late thunderstorm was forecast. It was early and there were no signs of a storm when I launched. I often paddle alone and am familiar with this stretch of water. I have been asked about the wisdom and safety of my paddling alone. Even for these short distances in familiar water. I enjoy social paddling with a few close friends but feel confident in my skills and decision making ability to kayak alone.
great campsite story... photo: Gill Booysen
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I am almost halfway across, enjoying leaving the demands of a busy morning further behind me with every paddle stroke. My thoughts are filled with plans to paddle in Alaska.
Reading Audrey Sutherland’s books (87 days solo kayaking in Alaska, swimming and kayaking remote sections of the Hawaii coast); I recognized her spirit and felt inspired by her adventures. I spend many hours vicariously sharing her inflatable canoe. A deep rumble draws my attention to my right. I was no longer sharing Audrey’s inflatable canoe in Alaska, but alone in my Nordkapp in Moreton Bay.
Looking south, I can see darkness on the horizon. It’s distant and appears to be moving across the lower bay, out to sea, away from me. I can see the strip of white sand where my friends are camped. I know it’s not far for me to paddle now. I stop day dreaming and increase my cadence, keen to reach the beach before any rain falls. I don't fancy setting up my tent in the rain.
Loud rumble. The storm is moving closer to me but still appears to be tracking out to sea. I stop paddling to hydrate and consider my options: I am closer to my destination than any other land.
If the storm moves towards me and not out to sea, no matter which direction I take now, I am going to get wet. I decide to continue my original course.
Before I move on, a sea turtles large head breaks the surface nearby, taking a huge gasp of air before sinking below. I notice a large shadow to the right, too big for a turtle, maybe a dugong? The shadow moves closer, rising from below to bump my boat, moving it with its body. Far out, a shark! It brushes my kayak as it moves away; I drop my drink hose, pick up my paddle and get moving.
Storm approaching, viewed from Blakelseys Landing _photo Gill Booysen
I can see 2 motor launches near the island heading for anchor. Other watercraft have disappeared. At least I won’t have to worry about being hit by a boat out here.
BOOM… a BIG thunder clap. Louder. Closer.
The cell is moving as fast as my heart is beating – fast! I know I will soon be engulfed by this heaving beast. OK Tessie, don’t panic. Relax, think clearly, and make a plan. Stow the sail securely on deck. Point the kayak into it. Prepare to brace. (Larry Gray ‘storm brace’ technique – it works).
I glance behind me and see sunshine and blue sky. Bizarre. Ahead, I see people moving about on the beach, the storm cell has not quite reached them. I think about my friends and wonder if they can see me out here, knowing they can’t. I don’t want them to be worried about me. I wish I was with them right now. Looking into a sky that is now a deeper green than the water, I realize it’s going to hail.
I think of Australian Ironman Grant Kenny who was out training on his ski when a sudden hailstorm hit. The hail stones cut his head open. He flipped his ski over and used it for protection until the storm passed.
After the earlier shark bump, I was really hoping I would NOT end up in the water today, but knew I may not have a choice. I also hoped for small hail stones and a fast storm. The transforming beast of green and black was almost upon me. I could feel my body trembling, adrenaline I guess.
BOOM. …BOOM…crackle…The vibrations travel through me. I can no longer see the beach. The wind increases slightly as large drops of rain begin hitting the water around the kayak. It is a strangely beautiful moment. A bird sitting in the water just ahead dives below and does not reappear. Darkness wraps around me. Shit! A wave of anxiety washes through me. My senses tingle as I wait. Suddenly, a raspy sound becomes an almighty roar, heralding it’s arrival. I try to point the bow into it, bracing. The ferocious blast is more than I have ever experienced in the kayak before, EVER.
meanwhile on shore...
I struggle to stay upright, my ears fill with the roar of the wind, waves wash over my deck, my body is physically forced backwards over the deck. I bend forward trying to lessen the effects of the wind on my body. The drops of rain become bigger and the waves smaller. My saturated hat brim is down around my face. I can’t see or hear over the roar and have no idea what’s coming next. I focus on staying upright. A new sound joins the melee. Crack. Crack. Crack. Then, I feel it. HAIL! Hailstones begin hitting my head, my arms, my hands. Hail ricochets off the kayak painfully hitting my face and teeth! The hailstones increase in size. Taking one hand off the paddle, I cover the top of my head until my fingers hurt from the stinging ice. There is no relief. The noise is deafening. The hailstones bruise and sting where they hit my body. If this continues, I will have to get in the water for shelter. I don’t know how long the storm lasts, but neither of my hopes comes true. The hailstones are large and the storm is not over quickly. I endure an icy beating from Mother Nature until the storm cell eventually moves over me, the hail and wind easing to leave only gentle rain hitting my bruised face and body.
After storm selfie
Once again able to see, I look towards the island. It is further away but, in front of me is the bizarre sight of half the beach covered in grey sky, half blue sky with a rainbow…half storm, half rainbow! I self-assess. My kayak is still upright. I am beaten up but OK. I am close to tears, instead of crying, I begin laughing. Strange, stress relief laughter. I feel spent, alone and ready to resign the ‘Adventure’ from AdventureTess.
But, I am in the middle of the bay and need to get moving again. The storm is north of me now, cutting a swathe over the water and Dunwich on the west coast of the island. I have a clear view of blue sky either side of this intense black and green field of energy. Eager to see my friends, I pick up my paddle and begin the work to reach them. I have been blown away from the island, so have additional distance to make up. While paddling, I reflect on the experience and my choices that day. I believe I made good choices and would have felt some comfort with company, but would company have created an additional concern? Using the last of my energy, I reach the beach. People are moving about, fixing campsites, and checking boats. I see my friends and call out. Relief floods through me as they make their way to the water’s edge to meet me.
Note: I launched just after lunch to paddle 10km to meet my friends, who were waiting at camp. Conditions were mild. The water was bumpy with a 10 to 15kn headwind. A possible late thunderstorm was forecast. It was early and there were no signs of a storm when I launched. I often paddle alone and am familiar with this stretch of water. I have been asked about the wisdom and safety of my paddling alone. Even for these short distances in familiar water. I enjoy social paddling with a few close friends but feel confident in my skills and decision making ability to kayak alone.
great campsite story... photo: Gill Booysen
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11 June 2015
Photo: Pot of Gold
Legend goes that there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Maybe it's true.
SeaDog Commander in the sun shower
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Maybe it's true.
SeaDog Commander in the sun shower
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03 June 2015
VIDEO: Restocking supplies on expedition in the Baltic
Paddling a sea kayak along the archipelago of the Swedish Baltic coast required occasional restocking when on a 5 week trip.
Drinking water was available on most inhabited islands where a hand pump was most times operational. Only on the outer skerries we had to carry water for several days.
Food could be had on some larger islands but Rödlöga topped them all.
The little village had a green-grass square with a children's swing hanging from its large tree.
The shop owner is a very happy passionate man that loves his work.
you can view this video at 1080p
The attached bakery and coffee house was incredibly busy with customers, considering the island is tiny with a small population. Sitting outside under the shade of the large "main square" trees and watching the relaxed atmosphere of the unpretentious locals was like stepping back in time.
Children would play and run freely without overbearing parents fearing that they might get dirty.
The local dress code seemed to be short fashionable gum boots and the occasional life jacket, worn at all times, even at the cafe. Then I realized that just about all of them were sailors that came in the morning to get a java fix. The little harbor was abuzz with beautiful small sailing boats; motor boats were rare and jet-skis not existent :-)
Unfortunately this year my expedition route will not be in Sweden but in Finland. I would love to stop again at Rödlöga.
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Drinking water was available on most inhabited islands where a hand pump was most times operational. Only on the outer skerries we had to carry water for several days.
Food could be had on some larger islands but Rödlöga topped them all.
The little village had a green-grass square with a children's swing hanging from its large tree.
The shop owner is a very happy passionate man that loves his work.
you can view this video at 1080p
The attached bakery and coffee house was incredibly busy with customers, considering the island is tiny with a small population. Sitting outside under the shade of the large "main square" trees and watching the relaxed atmosphere of the unpretentious locals was like stepping back in time.
Children would play and run freely without overbearing parents fearing that they might get dirty.
The local dress code seemed to be short fashionable gum boots and the occasional life jacket, worn at all times, even at the cafe. Then I realized that just about all of them were sailors that came in the morning to get a java fix. The little harbor was abuzz with beautiful small sailing boats; motor boats were rare and jet-skis not existent :-)
Unfortunately this year my expedition route will not be in Sweden but in Finland. I would love to stop again at Rödlöga.
.
25 May 2015
GEAR: SeaDog Commander.
I fell in, again.
I have been surfing for an hour and now I was heading home.
I sailed for a while but then I turned directly into the wind and I wanted to stow my sail away.
Stretching myself forward trying to reach the shock cord to secure the folded bundle of my sail made my loose my balance and I kept on falling in.
I realized that I needed a sail that would fold easily on my kayak deck.
My high aspect SeaDog sail (0.7 Code Zero) catches the wind beautifully and allows me to cut into the wind at a higher angle than before, but I had a problem with it.
Since I like to have my spray deck area clear my sail is mounted differently than a typical set up.
image courtesy of SeaDog
A typical mount for the sprit style sail (SeaDog, Flat Earth etc.) calls for a tall mast with stays mounted below the boom.
I prefer to have my sail mounted lower to allow the mast not to protrude in my "paddling area" when stowed on deck.
I don't like a folded sail that encroaches the deck where my hands swing when paddling.
It's simple: I want that area clear so my hands don't catch the sail.
On my high aspect sail the boom is substantially shorter than the luff (mast section) resulting in an uneven bundle when the sail is lowered down: the boom is much further away from me when I lower my sail onto the deck.
In need to secure the sail firmly onto the deck I use a section of sock-cord to wrap around the mast, battens and boom to create one solid bundle that I know will not fill up with water when waves wash over the deck or I roll the kayak.
In the bumpy waters, I was now having trouble reaching that boom and I was loosing my balance.
SeaDog CodeZero 0.7, folded. In order to reach the boom this sail intrudes the cockpit area.
It has been in the back of my mind for some time now: I wanted a sail with a slightly lower aspect and a longer boom.
I consulted with SeaDog sails and after I proposed my design to Richard a technical compromise was hatched: the design I had in mind might end up less efficient and might cause some loss of upwind reach.
One other trait that I really desired in my new sail was that it would be quiet.
Douglas Wilcox aptly calls it "motoring"; the sound that the leech makes when sailing cross-wind.
I don't like that at all and a highly value a quiet sail.
I proposed a double batten to Richard and after some measuring we decided on an optimal length, given my initial request of "neat bundle" when folded.
SeaDog Commander Mk1, folded on deck
SeaDog sails distinguish themselves for utilizing the very best high tech materials and superb cut and manufacture.
I love the pattern that the carbon fibre makes in the sail cloth used for the batten pockets; it looks really high-tech matching the finish of my Greenland paddles :-)
The twin battens shape the sail perfectly and there are no areas where the sail puckers; the sail stays aerodynamically shaped to catch light breezes allowing a high angle of head wind sailing.
My concerns for decreased upwind performance did not materialize: the SeaDog Commander stays inflated at really high angles too.
SeaDog utilizes a special thin thread that is incredibly tenacious and UV resistant: the results is beautiful stitching.
I asked for a combination of sail cloth that would be stretch resistant, dry fast and remain stable. I also wanted to add the Clear-View feature into the bottom panel so I could easily see where I was going. Somehow vinyl windows cut into my previous sails never really helped with forward vision; they were just too milky and were ruining a smooth surface with a puckered section of sail (different stretch).
The new Clear-View panel really offers a better vision of on-water obstacles and boat traffic while the sail surface remains perfectly tensioned and smooth.
The orange tip adds incredible high visibility on the water while the pattern in the other panels makes for a stunning sail. The SeaDog Black Diamond series (with the Clear-View TM lower panel) are the highest technology sails that I have see so far: a true masterpiece.
The new SeaDog Commander has a surface area of about 0.8m² to match the sail I most use in winds up to 20 knots.
Above 20 knots, in a beam wind, there is more heeling (pushing over) that I am comfortable with while my kayak does not really go any faster (max. hull speed).
If I know that there will be high winds forecasted I rather use my SeaDog CodeZero 0.7m²
I mounted this SeaDog Commander sail high enough on my carbon mast so I can reach it when folded onto the deck but not too high to intrude into my paddling area.
Disclaimer: my association with SeaDog has grown where we now collaborate on new projects. After purchasing my first sail from SeaDog I started to offer feedback and stimulated Richard with new ideas. Richard recognized that there was room for improvement with the original sprit sail design. Being able to quickly accommodate to special needs or requests with custom sails, SeaDog is able to blend high-tech sailing cloth to create sails that I wanted to realize for a while. I paid for the materials and he offers his workmanship: we both benefit from it.
I have been surfing for an hour and now I was heading home.
I sailed for a while but then I turned directly into the wind and I wanted to stow my sail away.
Stretching myself forward trying to reach the shock cord to secure the folded bundle of my sail made my loose my balance and I kept on falling in.
I realized that I needed a sail that would fold easily on my kayak deck.
My high aspect SeaDog sail (0.7 Code Zero) catches the wind beautifully and allows me to cut into the wind at a higher angle than before, but I had a problem with it.
Since I like to have my spray deck area clear my sail is mounted differently than a typical set up.
image courtesy of SeaDog
A typical mount for the sprit style sail (SeaDog, Flat Earth etc.) calls for a tall mast with stays mounted below the boom.
I prefer to have my sail mounted lower to allow the mast not to protrude in my "paddling area" when stowed on deck.
I don't like a folded sail that encroaches the deck where my hands swing when paddling.
It's simple: I want that area clear so my hands don't catch the sail.
On my high aspect sail the boom is substantially shorter than the luff (mast section) resulting in an uneven bundle when the sail is lowered down: the boom is much further away from me when I lower my sail onto the deck.
In need to secure the sail firmly onto the deck I use a section of sock-cord to wrap around the mast, battens and boom to create one solid bundle that I know will not fill up with water when waves wash over the deck or I roll the kayak.
In the bumpy waters, I was now having trouble reaching that boom and I was loosing my balance.
SeaDog CodeZero 0.7, folded. In order to reach the boom this sail intrudes the cockpit area.
It has been in the back of my mind for some time now: I wanted a sail with a slightly lower aspect and a longer boom.
I consulted with SeaDog sails and after I proposed my design to Richard a technical compromise was hatched: the design I had in mind might end up less efficient and might cause some loss of upwind reach.
One other trait that I really desired in my new sail was that it would be quiet.
Douglas Wilcox aptly calls it "motoring"; the sound that the leech makes when sailing cross-wind.
I don't like that at all and a highly value a quiet sail.
I proposed a double batten to Richard and after some measuring we decided on an optimal length, given my initial request of "neat bundle" when folded.
SeaDog Commander Mk1, folded on deck
SeaDog sails distinguish themselves for utilizing the very best high tech materials and superb cut and manufacture.
I love the pattern that the carbon fibre makes in the sail cloth used for the batten pockets; it looks really high-tech matching the finish of my Greenland paddles :-)
The twin battens shape the sail perfectly and there are no areas where the sail puckers; the sail stays aerodynamically shaped to catch light breezes allowing a high angle of head wind sailing.
My concerns for decreased upwind performance did not materialize: the SeaDog Commander stays inflated at really high angles too.
SeaDog utilizes a special thin thread that is incredibly tenacious and UV resistant: the results is beautiful stitching.
I asked for a combination of sail cloth that would be stretch resistant, dry fast and remain stable. I also wanted to add the Clear-View feature into the bottom panel so I could easily see where I was going. Somehow vinyl windows cut into my previous sails never really helped with forward vision; they were just too milky and were ruining a smooth surface with a puckered section of sail (different stretch).
The new Clear-View panel really offers a better vision of on-water obstacles and boat traffic while the sail surface remains perfectly tensioned and smooth.
The orange tip adds incredible high visibility on the water while the pattern in the other panels makes for a stunning sail. The SeaDog Black Diamond series (with the Clear-View TM lower panel) are the highest technology sails that I have see so far: a true masterpiece.
The new SeaDog Commander has a surface area of about 0.8m² to match the sail I most use in winds up to 20 knots.
Above 20 knots, in a beam wind, there is more heeling (pushing over) that I am comfortable with while my kayak does not really go any faster (max. hull speed).
If I know that there will be high winds forecasted I rather use my SeaDog CodeZero 0.7m²
I mounted this SeaDog Commander sail high enough on my carbon mast so I can reach it when folded onto the deck but not too high to intrude into my paddling area.
Disclaimer: my association with SeaDog has grown where we now collaborate on new projects. After purchasing my first sail from SeaDog I started to offer feedback and stimulated Richard with new ideas. Richard recognized that there was room for improvement with the original sprit sail design. Being able to quickly accommodate to special needs or requests with custom sails, SeaDog is able to blend high-tech sailing cloth to create sails that I wanted to realize for a while. I paid for the materials and he offers his workmanship: we both benefit from it.
02 April 2015
Video: I Have A Dream
Some dream of power, some dream of money.
Some dream of a slimmer waist and a bigger chest, some dream to have more hair on their head.
Some dream of a fast red car or those pretty shoes they saw in the window...
My dream is different.
reward yourself with full screen viewing in high definition on a larger screen, this one was not meant for mobile devices...
My dream is to be lost in a sea of islands, midnight sun and good friends.
A place where I don't need to keep time or answer my phone, no updates and no "likes".
And then the presence of mind to take it all in.
.
Some dream of a slimmer waist and a bigger chest, some dream to have more hair on their head.
Some dream of a fast red car or those pretty shoes they saw in the window...
My dream is different.
reward yourself with full screen viewing in high definition on a larger screen, this one was not meant for mobile devices...
My dream is to be lost in a sea of islands, midnight sun and good friends.
A place where I don't need to keep time or answer my phone, no updates and no "likes".
And then the presence of mind to take it all in.
.
10 March 2015
Photo: beach army
Emerging from their hiding places below the surface they invaded the beach.
As the sea retreated at low tide they came in swarms and like a massive stampede they roamed the exposed sand.
I could hear the noise they make when their tiny claws; hundreds of them collectively sounded like a swarm of locust.
I lowered myself to a foot above ground and a magical world appeared in front of me.
army of soldier crabs
But as soon as I creep a few feet closer they start to move hastily away from me.
I chase them, I want to observe them close-up.
They can not outrun me but they can hide again, quickly burring themselves into the sand with a funny circular digging motion.
I must have looked like a child running after the micro monsters, camera in hand, hovered a foot above ground. I would get close enough but by the time I would compose my image and focus the lens they would be gone below the surface.
Pesky little soldier crabs: so captivating yet so elusive.
I was camped at my favorite little island in Moreton Bay; in front of me the somehow less attractive stretch of beach to the power boats as they can't access it for being too shallow.
I calmly waited for the evening to come and replace that harsh midday tropical light; ideal time to capture photographs.
Some call it happy hour, I call it golden hour, for different reasons.
.
As the sea retreated at low tide they came in swarms and like a massive stampede they roamed the exposed sand.
I could hear the noise they make when their tiny claws; hundreds of them collectively sounded like a swarm of locust.
I lowered myself to a foot above ground and a magical world appeared in front of me.
army of soldier crabs
But as soon as I creep a few feet closer they start to move hastily away from me.
I chase them, I want to observe them close-up.
They can not outrun me but they can hide again, quickly burring themselves into the sand with a funny circular digging motion.
I must have looked like a child running after the micro monsters, camera in hand, hovered a foot above ground. I would get close enough but by the time I would compose my image and focus the lens they would be gone below the surface.
Pesky little soldier crabs: so captivating yet so elusive.
I was camped at my favorite little island in Moreton Bay; in front of me the somehow less attractive stretch of beach to the power boats as they can't access it for being too shallow.
I calmly waited for the evening to come and replace that harsh midday tropical light; ideal time to capture photographs.
Some call it happy hour, I call it golden hour, for different reasons.
.
24 February 2015
Video: Petra surfing Dugong
Let's name her Dugong!
Short, stubby and just a bit "a face only a mother could love" look... the Whisky16 (designed by Nigel Foster) is not a pretty kayak in a traditional sense.
Dugong seemed an appropriate name for Petra's new kayak.
While looks are often deceiving, this kayak fits Petra very well and being very maneuverable spurs confidence in rough water.
The inspiration for the name came from the previous day's event where Petra and I were kayak-sailing back from my favorite play spot. A dugong suddenly surfaced too close to my kayak and looked at me with spooked eyes: I don't know who got the bigger fright, me or the dugong.
Then he quickly dived, his tail flew inches away from my face wetting me completely while I ducked my head avoiding the slap as he desperately tried to miss my kayak.
That evening a sail was hastily mounted to the Whisky16's deck as next day's forecast was promising conditions for a pseudo tidal race: wind against ebbing tide.
With the new SeaDog sail mounted up front Dugong really brings smiles
click on image above to play video
Edging and rolling the Whisky16 seemed easier than the borrowed kayaks: a good fit where one can brace without having to splay the legs too far could be the reason.
The keyhole cockpit where the legs can be kept relatively close together, allowing some wiggle room but still offering a solid wide area of contact, is probably a better solution than the diminutive thigh braces wings I see in most kayak cockpits.
So far the two kayaks that I own with such keyhole cockpits are way more comfortable than the other system I have tried.
The rear deck is not particularly low in the Whisky16 however layback rolls are still reasonably easy since the seat is not jammed right against the rear of the cockpit rim.
For once the seat is not shaped as a racing short-pan paddler crunched-over design: a lower front lip allows for more relaxed seating.
My experience with short seat that have a higher front has not been positive as I often end up with "dead legs". A flatter pan and longer seating area is key for longer paddles where my thighs don't suffer from blood circulation cut off.
Petra, while being the exact opposite of my bio-metrics, seems to agree: she dislikes short peaked seats and loves the flatter pan. The seat of the Whisky16 is here to stay.
The front deck however has already been modified to accept a sail and place it at closer reach. Details here.
Short, stubby and just a bit "a face only a mother could love" look... the Whisky16 (designed by Nigel Foster) is not a pretty kayak in a traditional sense.
Dugong seemed an appropriate name for Petra's new kayak.
While looks are often deceiving, this kayak fits Petra very well and being very maneuverable spurs confidence in rough water.
The inspiration for the name came from the previous day's event where Petra and I were kayak-sailing back from my favorite play spot. A dugong suddenly surfaced too close to my kayak and looked at me with spooked eyes: I don't know who got the bigger fright, me or the dugong.
Then he quickly dived, his tail flew inches away from my face wetting me completely while I ducked my head avoiding the slap as he desperately tried to miss my kayak.
That evening a sail was hastily mounted to the Whisky16's deck as next day's forecast was promising conditions for a pseudo tidal race: wind against ebbing tide.
With the new SeaDog sail mounted up front Dugong really brings smiles
click on image above to play video
Edging and rolling the Whisky16 seemed easier than the borrowed kayaks: a good fit where one can brace without having to splay the legs too far could be the reason.
The keyhole cockpit where the legs can be kept relatively close together, allowing some wiggle room but still offering a solid wide area of contact, is probably a better solution than the diminutive thigh braces wings I see in most kayak cockpits.
So far the two kayaks that I own with such keyhole cockpits are way more comfortable than the other system I have tried.
The rear deck is not particularly low in the Whisky16 however layback rolls are still reasonably easy since the seat is not jammed right against the rear of the cockpit rim.
For once the seat is not shaped as a racing short-pan paddler crunched-over design: a lower front lip allows for more relaxed seating.
My experience with short seat that have a higher front has not been positive as I often end up with "dead legs". A flatter pan and longer seating area is key for longer paddles where my thighs don't suffer from blood circulation cut off.
Petra, while being the exact opposite of my bio-metrics, seems to agree: she dislikes short peaked seats and loves the flatter pan. The seat of the Whisky16 is here to stay.
The front deck however has already been modified to accept a sail and place it at closer reach. Details here.
12 February 2015
Photo: walking on the beach
A walk on the beach helps me to focus on what matters in life.
Even more rewarding if remote and later in the day.
Barefoot, at water's edge, the sun close to the horizon.
.
Even more rewarding if remote and later in the day.
Barefoot, at water's edge, the sun close to the horizon.
.
03 February 2015
SHOP: filling-in the compass recess
.
Mounting a sail on a sea kayak requires a few considerations: position and deck strength.
On the newly acquired Whisky16 the front hatch is positioned surprisingly way far forward.
In front of that there is a deck-mounted compass recess.
The previous owner of that kayak had a small sail mounted there and I used the existing holes to mount mine.
first run with the Whisky16
A test run revealed that the sail worked well on the Whisky16 but the reach was a bit too far for grabbing the sail and stow it on deck, securing it.
Most other sailing buddies use a 3 stay set up ending with a rather long mast.
I see their stowed sails going past the front of the cockpit ending with a sail mast half way across the spray deck. I prefer to have mine clear off my deck so I do not rub it with my hands when paddling.
The Whisky16 however has the sail mounting spot just a bit too far out or reach for the sail to fit nicely on deck. As I use my sails on several kayak I need to have them fit all decks well, with the same stay lengths.
I could increase the size of the mast and bring the sail higher (and make an ill-fit on other kayaks), but I prefer to keep the sail as low as possible and minimize the heeling force of a beam wind exerted on the sail.
The compass was not really needed on that kayak so I removed it and decided to utilize that space to mount the sail closer.
I wanted to fill the void left (recess on the deck) and create a solid base for the mast fitting.
I could have used a simple block of wood somehow attached to the deck but I knew I could do better.
I shaped a block of foam (polystyrene) to fit a bit loose within the cavity of the recess. Shaping the foam was easy: a bit of coarse sandpaper on a cork block.
Once the foam was shaped I placed kitchen cling wrap (Glad® wrap) over the deck and wetted out some fiberglass with epoxy. I draped the block of foam (under side) and pressed it into the cavity.
Once cured (overnight) I removed the excess and trimmed the glass.
The finish was really rough; maybe I could have used wax and mold release to have a perfect fit but nobody was going to see that part.
The top was done similarly.
I carved out foam from the area where the screws for the fitting would go for my mast base and filled it with epoxy glue (mix of epoxy and microfiber). While wet I then used a few layers of glass for the top and a scrap of carbon fibre for where the main load would be.
Polystyrene foam compresses easily when spot loaded so I needed a sturdy surface.
the "black patch" is carbon fibre cloth over the carved-out foam filled with epoxy glue.
The next step was to clean and cut back the edges a bit leaving a bit of a gap between foam block and kayak deck. I filled that with epoxy glue again to create a hard edge and seal the two surface together creating a monocoque style item. Of course I waxed and prepped the kayak deck so epoxy would not stick to it...
the new mast-base fitting placed only for testing
The last step was to add a nice layer of carbon fibre weave: partly structural, partly looks.
A few coats of UV stabilized epoxy later and my block was ready for installation of the mast base.
I used wood screws that secured the mount very solidly: the epoxy glue is very dense.
the foam block now covered with carbon fibre cloth
Final step: securing the foam block to the deck.
This one was simple: a small bead of polyurethane all around the edge (only!) to then seal perfectly against the deck.
The original deck void was now sealed and the sail mounted closer to the cockpit.
notice the difference between old position and new closer location for the mast base. The old holes will get filled with matching gel coat
So, do 4" make a difference? *
Not in handling of the kayak but when reaching for the sail to be bundled on deck when stowed (reaching for the boom particularly) is now much better.
*Hell yes, she said :-)
Mounting a sail on a sea kayak requires a few considerations: position and deck strength.
On the newly acquired Whisky16 the front hatch is positioned surprisingly way far forward.
In front of that there is a deck-mounted compass recess.
The previous owner of that kayak had a small sail mounted there and I used the existing holes to mount mine.
first run with the Whisky16
A test run revealed that the sail worked well on the Whisky16 but the reach was a bit too far for grabbing the sail and stow it on deck, securing it.
Most other sailing buddies use a 3 stay set up ending with a rather long mast.
I see their stowed sails going past the front of the cockpit ending with a sail mast half way across the spray deck. I prefer to have mine clear off my deck so I do not rub it with my hands when paddling.
The Whisky16 however has the sail mounting spot just a bit too far out or reach for the sail to fit nicely on deck. As I use my sails on several kayak I need to have them fit all decks well, with the same stay lengths.
I could increase the size of the mast and bring the sail higher (and make an ill-fit on other kayaks), but I prefer to keep the sail as low as possible and minimize the heeling force of a beam wind exerted on the sail.
The compass was not really needed on that kayak so I removed it and decided to utilize that space to mount the sail closer.
I wanted to fill the void left (recess on the deck) and create a solid base for the mast fitting.
I could have used a simple block of wood somehow attached to the deck but I knew I could do better.
I shaped a block of foam (polystyrene) to fit a bit loose within the cavity of the recess. Shaping the foam was easy: a bit of coarse sandpaper on a cork block.
Once the foam was shaped I placed kitchen cling wrap (Glad® wrap) over the deck and wetted out some fiberglass with epoxy. I draped the block of foam (under side) and pressed it into the cavity.
Once cured (overnight) I removed the excess and trimmed the glass.
The finish was really rough; maybe I could have used wax and mold release to have a perfect fit but nobody was going to see that part.
The top was done similarly.
I carved out foam from the area where the screws for the fitting would go for my mast base and filled it with epoxy glue (mix of epoxy and microfiber). While wet I then used a few layers of glass for the top and a scrap of carbon fibre for where the main load would be.
Polystyrene foam compresses easily when spot loaded so I needed a sturdy surface.
the "black patch" is carbon fibre cloth over the carved-out foam filled with epoxy glue.
The next step was to clean and cut back the edges a bit leaving a bit of a gap between foam block and kayak deck. I filled that with epoxy glue again to create a hard edge and seal the two surface together creating a monocoque style item. Of course I waxed and prepped the kayak deck so epoxy would not stick to it...
the new mast-base fitting placed only for testing
The last step was to add a nice layer of carbon fibre weave: partly structural, partly looks.
A few coats of UV stabilized epoxy later and my block was ready for installation of the mast base.
I used wood screws that secured the mount very solidly: the epoxy glue is very dense.
the foam block now covered with carbon fibre cloth
Final step: securing the foam block to the deck.
This one was simple: a small bead of polyurethane all around the edge (only!) to then seal perfectly against the deck.
The original deck void was now sealed and the sail mounted closer to the cockpit.
notice the difference between old position and new closer location for the mast base. The old holes will get filled with matching gel coat
So, do 4" make a difference? *
Not in handling of the kayak but when reaching for the sail to be bundled on deck when stowed (reaching for the boom particularly) is now much better.
*Hell yes, she said :-)
28 January 2015
Video: Best Moments of 2014 in Moreton Bay
Once a year a new video is edited focusing specifically on local paddling's best moments.
This one was shot over 2014 in Moreton Bay alone.
Of course, only a very small portion of "the fun stuff" is recorded despite spending most weekends on the water.
I compiled mostly "orphan" clips that were not previously included in a other videos; the shots are short and highlight the best moments of a day's outing.
In order of appearance: Gnarlydog, Vanilla and Petra.
PS: work has already commenced on the 2015 edition...
.
This one was shot over 2014 in Moreton Bay alone.
Of course, only a very small portion of "the fun stuff" is recorded despite spending most weekends on the water.
I compiled mostly "orphan" clips that were not previously included in a other videos; the shots are short and highlight the best moments of a day's outing.
In order of appearance: Gnarlydog, Vanilla and Petra.
PS: work has already commenced on the 2015 edition...
.
12 January 2015
Photo: sail-surfing the New Year
Conditions were just right: a running out tide met by an opposing 15 knots of wind created waves steep enough to be caught by a small sail.
Petra sail-surfing with Northern Light paddle and SeaDog sail.
.
Petra sail-surfing with Northern Light paddle and SeaDog sail.
.
23 December 2014
VIDEO: beyond the action cam
A few years ago I fell in love with action cams.
I started using the newly "invented" waterproof compact camera to capture images first and then I discovered that some scenes were best captures with motion pictures.
I brought the little Olympus 720SW into the surf zone and devised mounts to go onto my kayaks.
It was fun for a while but the metal bodied cameras don't last in salt water. After killing a few waterproof cameras I decided to revisit the GoPro, housed in a plastic case.
My early experience with the first generation was very disappointing: the resolution was so low that I really could not see clearly what was happening, things were fuzzy. I discarded that camera and labelled it as a "toy".
Then one day GoPro Hero 1 came to the market and that changed everything, totally.
It was a very decent tool with an excellent case that was seriously waterproof and sturdy enough for the footage that I wanted to capture.
I embraced the wide angle distorted view that was giving me a lived-in point of view, not a spectator one, more one of an actor, really being there.
While GoPro can deliver outstanding footage in the right hands and shooting technique, it comes up short when I want to isolate the subject from the busy background.
Action cams (and a lot of compact cameras have) lenses create images where everything is sharp: from the close-up foreground to the distant subjects in a scene.
There is little chance (most often impossible) to isolate the subject.
While most on-water action situation from a sea kayak don't offer me the time and environment where I can compose an image to create shallow depth of field and have selective focusing, on land, away from the bobbing of the waves, I have the time and stability to see the world more selectively.
I find that if I want to emphasize my subject and make it stand out from the visual noise of the background (or occasionally foreground) I need to limit the area that will be in focus in my images.
A blurry background makes a person stand out from a busy scene, a softly focused foreground brings attention to the the kayaks on the beach instead of having the viewer visually wonder around and miss the focal point. A less busy image can sometimes convey a different message.
I predominately use actions cams for video capture and I mix the use of my land camera between still images and video.
Lately I have been experimenting with selective focus on my Micro 4/3 cameras and found out their limitations. Shooting video is particularly challenging with a wide open long lens.
While my cameras excel in image stabilization I struggle to create even transitions of focal points and smooth focus pull. I don't zoom much as I find that most consumer cameras (of reasonable cost) lack real slow smooth zooming. I prefer to concentrate on the camera movement to create a dynamic point of view. As I have never used tripods for video, since I think it creates static scene that are too stiff, giving me a sense of "spectator" instead of a person that is present and involved. Therefore the in-camera image stabilization is very important to me to allow me to move around my scenes without producing jerky footage.
The one thing that I lack with my larger cameras is waterproofness; I have to be very careful around moving water.
I started using the newly "invented" waterproof compact camera to capture images first and then I discovered that some scenes were best captures with motion pictures.
I brought the little Olympus 720SW into the surf zone and devised mounts to go onto my kayaks.
It was fun for a while but the metal bodied cameras don't last in salt water. After killing a few waterproof cameras I decided to revisit the GoPro, housed in a plastic case.
My early experience with the first generation was very disappointing: the resolution was so low that I really could not see clearly what was happening, things were fuzzy. I discarded that camera and labelled it as a "toy".
Then one day GoPro Hero 1 came to the market and that changed everything, totally.
It was a very decent tool with an excellent case that was seriously waterproof and sturdy enough for the footage that I wanted to capture.
I embraced the wide angle distorted view that was giving me a lived-in point of view, not a spectator one, more one of an actor, really being there.
While GoPro can deliver outstanding footage in the right hands and shooting technique, it comes up short when I want to isolate the subject from the busy background.
Action cams (and a lot of compact cameras have) lenses create images where everything is sharp: from the close-up foreground to the distant subjects in a scene.
There is little chance (most often impossible) to isolate the subject.
While most on-water action situation from a sea kayak don't offer me the time and environment where I can compose an image to create shallow depth of field and have selective focusing, on land, away from the bobbing of the waves, I have the time and stability to see the world more selectively.
I find that if I want to emphasize my subject and make it stand out from the visual noise of the background (or occasionally foreground) I need to limit the area that will be in focus in my images.
A blurry background makes a person stand out from a busy scene, a softly focused foreground brings attention to the the kayaks on the beach instead of having the viewer visually wonder around and miss the focal point. A less busy image can sometimes convey a different message.
I predominately use actions cams for video capture and I mix the use of my land camera between still images and video.
Lately I have been experimenting with selective focus on my Micro 4/3 cameras and found out their limitations. Shooting video is particularly challenging with a wide open long lens.
While my cameras excel in image stabilization I struggle to create even transitions of focal points and smooth focus pull. I don't zoom much as I find that most consumer cameras (of reasonable cost) lack real slow smooth zooming. I prefer to concentrate on the camera movement to create a dynamic point of view. As I have never used tripods for video, since I think it creates static scene that are too stiff, giving me a sense of "spectator" instead of a person that is present and involved. Therefore the in-camera image stabilization is very important to me to allow me to move around my scenes without producing jerky footage.
The one thing that I lack with my larger cameras is waterproofness; I have to be very careful around moving water.
17 December 2014
To club or not to club
.
"Keep on pumping, don't stop, you are doing fine!"
Those were the words of encouragement that I was saying to Tim* hoping he could hear me; he was clearly shaken by the experience.
It was windy and the waves were large enough that he no longer could brace efficiently and eventually he fell in. I was holding his flooded kayak stabilizing him while he was furiously trying to empty it with the hand-held pump. It was working, but just so slowly...
The fear I saw early in Tim's eyes was now slowly subsiding, he knew that he will be alright.
I was on a Sunday outing with a group of kayakers, where the paddling arrangements were loose: we paddle together but without real rules and expectations.
I identified myself with Tim and recalled a few years back when I first joined a kayak club and had my first rescue.
I joined a club to learn the skills necessary to paddle safely in the ocean. I also enjoyed the company of other like-minded paddlers that genuinely loved the sport.
But I am kind of bitter about clubs now; my experience with them leads me to believe that, while they are good in principle, they also attract a fair share of power struggles.
My first exposure to a club was while bushwalking (backpacking).
I was new at the game, very keen but I knew little.
I joined the local club and went on walks and camps with my new-found buddies.
It was fun and I learned a lot. But the longer I was in the club the more I became exposed to the politics that seem inevitable in a structured environment: I observed a good number of people getting very animated about basic issues and some individuals clearly had their heart in the wrong place.
Eventually I no longer wanted to go on their outings as the red tape became too oppressive.
The club was large with several hundred members.
Years later I started sea kayaking.
I knew very little about the sea and I figured that I should really learn how to stay safe out on the water. I was lucky to get involved with a newly formed paddling club that was government sanctioned. For the first year it was really awesome: we all chipped-in with the organizing and there was a real good energy there.
Protocol was simple with not too many rules. Paddling was fun and we really went to great places; the calendar was full of activities.
QSKC trip to Lady Musgrave Island
As the Club grew it attracted individuals that wanted to make a profit from other paddlers while I was not sure if they really loved the sport without the monetary incentive; I call it conflict of interest.
The basic rules were not good enough anymore and a strong push to have mandatory skills to participate on any Club paddles was pushed onto the members. Incidentally those skills could only be "achieved" by being instructed by the few certified commercial operators.
And then it finally dawned on me: this was no longer a bona-fide club, this was becoming a money motivated gig for a few eager individuals.
I was kicked out of the Club for wanting to expose a sexual harassment case and I was bitter about the events. I was also worried that my skills would not advance and I would loose my paddling buddies. I did loose some buddies that, if I look at them now, were rather lame.
Some no longer paddle and some just struggle in the same constrictive environment.
Luckily the Club is not the only way to paddle with others.
Several informal groups are actively involved in sea kayaking where I live.
easy paddle with the Claytons
There are also other Clubs that unfortunately, because of external pressure, seem to be too structured for a real free paddling experience.
I started to paddle more and more frequently with the very same people that shunned the Club that I joined in the first place.
As a novice I used to look at them as a dangerous crowd to paddle with. It seems that the Club culture brain-washed me enough to instill a fear in me to not paddle if not in a totally controlled and anal environment. Initially I felt that we should paddle all together, keeping a constant eye on each other.
Nobody should be no further than a few paddle strokes and if "anything happens" one could be "saved" within seconds. The tall stories of sharks (something that the Club was very good at selling) however had little impact on me as I rationalized the potential danger to a minimum.
the mandatory Club lengthy briefing before launch
So, here I was in the middle of a short passage between islands that had a few bumpy waves tossing us around. A bit of wind was pushing against the tidal flow and I could surf some of the lager waves.
I was having fun but in our group there was a person that probably found the conditions a bit intimidating.
I have kept a loose eye on Tim and while he was doing OK I noticed that he had stiffened up and his paddling stroke was reduced and the catch was a bit short.
At my last wave before the beach I looked back and I no longer could see him, his red kayak and white paddle not around. As the waves were obscuring my view from a low position in the water I spotted him a few minutes later: he was swimming.
I headed back and by the time I reached him he was already getting helped by a passing motor boat. We took it from there: myself and a buddy held Tim's kayak, now with flooded cockpit that was getting emptied by a hand pump. He was a bit shaken, a bit confused and a bit tired. Eventually he started paddling the remaining 1/2 Km back to the beach. I considered offering a tow but I held back: I wanted to offer him instead the possibility to help himself, make him proud of what he achieved.
And then I thought: how would a similar situation be dealt in the Club.
Well, for starters the proposed outing would have been cancelled: too much wind (it was around 15 knots as we set off).
In the event that we would have gone out we would be on top of each other, like a flock of sheep, but not before a lengthy briefing on the beach of all the possible dangers that we could run into, including the shark stories ( I used to get a bit miffed with the scare mongering when I used to be in the Club). Falling in would involve a quick response and the swimmer would be placed back in his kayak within minutes. A good thing, right?
Well, I am not so sure about that...
Let me explain.
I believe in self reliance, in learning from mistakes and by "pulling the finger out".
When I used to fall into the water (and that was often) I was kind of expecting others to come and rescue me, I was relying on them. I had little incentive to actually become a better paddler.
Then I started to paddle by myself and much more aware of my surroundings and my actions: I did become a better paddler. I learned how to roll as swimming was proving to be rather tedious.
I am unsure if I would have advanced as much in the safety of the cocoon called Club.
Considering that today I see on the Club's calendar no real challenging paddles anyway, I would have little opportunity to actually improve myself.
Now, don't get me wrong; clubs are a good thing.
They have introduced me to sports that alternatively would have taken me possibly longer to master.
In a decent club one can learn the basics without having to pay for private tuition, from other more senior members.
Clubs also cater for those that prefer others to make decisions for them. When I led trips in the Club I had my share of participants that really wanted to be guided for the whole paddling event totally foregoing any personal decisions; I understand that we are not all the same and some prefer it that way.
What I really like now instead is to have the freedom to actually paddle where I want. No sign-on sheets, no disclaimers, no herding, no listening to gurus for half an hour before launch in calm conditions. What I prefer is a self reliant group of paddlers that meets and paddles.
We look after each other in a loose way, no holding hands. We teach each other, no money changes hands. And if somebody in the group does not like where we are going he/she is free to do what they want: no sermon before "leaving the pod". A brief acknowledgment that that person will no longer be around for the day is sufficient. There are no formal leaders therefore no liability, we just enjoy each others company with no expectations.
* name has been changed to protect his identity
"Keep on pumping, don't stop, you are doing fine!"
Those were the words of encouragement that I was saying to Tim* hoping he could hear me; he was clearly shaken by the experience.
It was windy and the waves were large enough that he no longer could brace efficiently and eventually he fell in. I was holding his flooded kayak stabilizing him while he was furiously trying to empty it with the hand-held pump. It was working, but just so slowly...
The fear I saw early in Tim's eyes was now slowly subsiding, he knew that he will be alright.
I was on a Sunday outing with a group of kayakers, where the paddling arrangements were loose: we paddle together but without real rules and expectations.
I identified myself with Tim and recalled a few years back when I first joined a kayak club and had my first rescue.
I joined a club to learn the skills necessary to paddle safely in the ocean. I also enjoyed the company of other like-minded paddlers that genuinely loved the sport.
But I am kind of bitter about clubs now; my experience with them leads me to believe that, while they are good in principle, they also attract a fair share of power struggles.
My first exposure to a club was while bushwalking (backpacking).
I was new at the game, very keen but I knew little.
I joined the local club and went on walks and camps with my new-found buddies.
It was fun and I learned a lot. But the longer I was in the club the more I became exposed to the politics that seem inevitable in a structured environment: I observed a good number of people getting very animated about basic issues and some individuals clearly had their heart in the wrong place.
Eventually I no longer wanted to go on their outings as the red tape became too oppressive.
The club was large with several hundred members.
Years later I started sea kayaking.
I knew very little about the sea and I figured that I should really learn how to stay safe out on the water. I was lucky to get involved with a newly formed paddling club that was government sanctioned. For the first year it was really awesome: we all chipped-in with the organizing and there was a real good energy there.
Protocol was simple with not too many rules. Paddling was fun and we really went to great places; the calendar was full of activities.
QSKC trip to Lady Musgrave Island
As the Club grew it attracted individuals that wanted to make a profit from other paddlers while I was not sure if they really loved the sport without the monetary incentive; I call it conflict of interest.
The basic rules were not good enough anymore and a strong push to have mandatory skills to participate on any Club paddles was pushed onto the members. Incidentally those skills could only be "achieved" by being instructed by the few certified commercial operators.
And then it finally dawned on me: this was no longer a bona-fide club, this was becoming a money motivated gig for a few eager individuals.
I was kicked out of the Club for wanting to expose a sexual harassment case and I was bitter about the events. I was also worried that my skills would not advance and I would loose my paddling buddies. I did loose some buddies that, if I look at them now, were rather lame.
Some no longer paddle and some just struggle in the same constrictive environment.
Luckily the Club is not the only way to paddle with others.
Several informal groups are actively involved in sea kayaking where I live.
easy paddle with the Claytons
There are also other Clubs that unfortunately, because of external pressure, seem to be too structured for a real free paddling experience.
I started to paddle more and more frequently with the very same people that shunned the Club that I joined in the first place.
As a novice I used to look at them as a dangerous crowd to paddle with. It seems that the Club culture brain-washed me enough to instill a fear in me to not paddle if not in a totally controlled and anal environment. Initially I felt that we should paddle all together, keeping a constant eye on each other.
Nobody should be no further than a few paddle strokes and if "anything happens" one could be "saved" within seconds. The tall stories of sharks (something that the Club was very good at selling) however had little impact on me as I rationalized the potential danger to a minimum.
the mandatory Club lengthy briefing before launch
So, here I was in the middle of a short passage between islands that had a few bumpy waves tossing us around. A bit of wind was pushing against the tidal flow and I could surf some of the lager waves.
I was having fun but in our group there was a person that probably found the conditions a bit intimidating.
I have kept a loose eye on Tim and while he was doing OK I noticed that he had stiffened up and his paddling stroke was reduced and the catch was a bit short.
At my last wave before the beach I looked back and I no longer could see him, his red kayak and white paddle not around. As the waves were obscuring my view from a low position in the water I spotted him a few minutes later: he was swimming.
I headed back and by the time I reached him he was already getting helped by a passing motor boat. We took it from there: myself and a buddy held Tim's kayak, now with flooded cockpit that was getting emptied by a hand pump. He was a bit shaken, a bit confused and a bit tired. Eventually he started paddling the remaining 1/2 Km back to the beach. I considered offering a tow but I held back: I wanted to offer him instead the possibility to help himself, make him proud of what he achieved.
And then I thought: how would a similar situation be dealt in the Club.
Well, for starters the proposed outing would have been cancelled: too much wind (it was around 15 knots as we set off).
In the event that we would have gone out we would be on top of each other, like a flock of sheep, but not before a lengthy briefing on the beach of all the possible dangers that we could run into, including the shark stories ( I used to get a bit miffed with the scare mongering when I used to be in the Club). Falling in would involve a quick response and the swimmer would be placed back in his kayak within minutes. A good thing, right?
Well, I am not so sure about that...
Let me explain.
I believe in self reliance, in learning from mistakes and by "pulling the finger out".
When I used to fall into the water (and that was often) I was kind of expecting others to come and rescue me, I was relying on them. I had little incentive to actually become a better paddler.
Then I started to paddle by myself and much more aware of my surroundings and my actions: I did become a better paddler. I learned how to roll as swimming was proving to be rather tedious.
I am unsure if I would have advanced as much in the safety of the cocoon called Club.
Considering that today I see on the Club's calendar no real challenging paddles anyway, I would have little opportunity to actually improve myself.
Now, don't get me wrong; clubs are a good thing.
They have introduced me to sports that alternatively would have taken me possibly longer to master.
In a decent club one can learn the basics without having to pay for private tuition, from other more senior members.
Clubs also cater for those that prefer others to make decisions for them. When I led trips in the Club I had my share of participants that really wanted to be guided for the whole paddling event totally foregoing any personal decisions; I understand that we are not all the same and some prefer it that way.
What I really like now instead is to have the freedom to actually paddle where I want. No sign-on sheets, no disclaimers, no herding, no listening to gurus for half an hour before launch in calm conditions. What I prefer is a self reliant group of paddlers that meets and paddles.
We look after each other in a loose way, no holding hands. We teach each other, no money changes hands. And if somebody in the group does not like where we are going he/she is free to do what they want: no sermon before "leaving the pod". A brief acknowledgment that that person will no longer be around for the day is sufficient. There are no formal leaders therefore no liability, we just enjoy each others company with no expectations.
* name has been changed to protect his identity
02 December 2014
Photo: foreshore sunsets
For too long I have not been holding a serious camera in my hands.
Engrossed by the brilliant results of my GoPros and the incredible capabilities of my other compact point-and-shoot, I have lost interest in cameras that allow more creativity than just full-automatic settings.
I used to schlep a Hasselblad around and then suddenly go sick of the heft: small or nothing was my new motto.
I secretly lusted over a DSLR but not over its bulk.
Then my eye caught the Micro Four Thirds line up of cameras.
I am now on my second one in six months and in love again with taking pictures that little compact cameras could not.
undistorted wide angle
selective shallow depth of field
dynamic close-up
Narrow field of view and selective focus is something that GoPro can't do.
Not to mention long exposures and the ability to capture scenes out of the ordinary
While I will continue with my compact camera for on-water images, as I see little point of having a bulky camera tucked below deck and miss the action, I am now spending more time on shore trying to capture the fleeting moments of the "golden light" with a camera that fosters creativity.
Engrossed by the brilliant results of my GoPros and the incredible capabilities of my other compact point-and-shoot, I have lost interest in cameras that allow more creativity than just full-automatic settings.
I used to schlep a Hasselblad around and then suddenly go sick of the heft: small or nothing was my new motto.
I secretly lusted over a DSLR but not over its bulk.
Then my eye caught the Micro Four Thirds line up of cameras.
I am now on my second one in six months and in love again with taking pictures that little compact cameras could not.
undistorted wide angle
selective shallow depth of field
dynamic close-up
Narrow field of view and selective focus is something that GoPro can't do.
Not to mention long exposures and the ability to capture scenes out of the ordinary
While I will continue with my compact camera for on-water images, as I see little point of having a bulky camera tucked below deck and miss the action, I am now spending more time on shore trying to capture the fleeting moments of the "golden light" with a camera that fosters creativity.
25 November 2014
VIDEO: sailing with SeaDog 0.7
This time the wind was really blowing and I was glad that I had my smaller sail installed on my kayak: the SeaDog 0.7m².
I could feel that there was less heeling as I didn't have to transfer all my weight to the windy side.
My large sail of 1.0m² would have been too much and harder to handle while my SeaDog 0.7m² was still giving me plenty of speed to surf the waves with ease.
Here is a short video of a few different outings with the SeaDog 0.7m²
I believe that the SeaDog 0.7m² is a great sail for when the wind starts to blow and white caps appear on the water; it offers me plenty of power while still allowing me to handle my more tippy kayaks without a white-knuckled grip on my paddle.
I figured out that a kayak can only go so fast and no matter how big of a sail I mount on the deck it just won't go any faster. A larger sail however just catches more wind and when loaded from the side wind it wants to push the kayak over. I have been at times hanging way over the side of my kayaks trying to keep them from tipping while not noticing any increase in speed over a smaller sail.
Of course, if the wind is from behind (stern wind) and the waves have built up to a size that they start to lift the stern of the kayak where I can surf; my kayak will indeed go faster than hull speed.
It is these times that I find the SeaDog 0.7m² exceptional and easier to handle. As I surf down the wave (on a wind right behind me) the kayak will come to a point where the sail no longer seems to be inflated. At the bottom of the wave I will have the boom flap loose over the deck and wanting to swap sides. Then the gust of wind catches up with me and with a shuddering noise the sail slaps to the other side taken in by the main sheet. It is in this moment that a smaller sail will save me from a sudden imbalance and possible precarious lean that might result in a dunk. I don't feel the raw slap that bigger sails give me in high winds: the 0.7m² is easier to handle.
Another benefit of a smaller sail is when things do go pear shaped and I fall in.
I have been practicing rolling with a sail; starting from dead calm conditions to increased breezes and more bumpy seas. I find that a sail with a smaller surface has much less drag underwater and in a roll I can scull up without too much effort. Recently I have been trying to forego releasing the main sheet and just leave the sail alone while falling in. While slightly more difficult than releasing the main sheet (or uphaul) I am more confident in recovering with the sail just left as it was before falling in.
As winds increase to 20 knots and above I wonder if a smaller sail would not be even better?
Maybe that is something I should look into...
.
I could feel that there was less heeling as I didn't have to transfer all my weight to the windy side.
My large sail of 1.0m² would have been too much and harder to handle while my SeaDog 0.7m² was still giving me plenty of speed to surf the waves with ease.
Here is a short video of a few different outings with the SeaDog 0.7m²
I believe that the SeaDog 0.7m² is a great sail for when the wind starts to blow and white caps appear on the water; it offers me plenty of power while still allowing me to handle my more tippy kayaks without a white-knuckled grip on my paddle.
I figured out that a kayak can only go so fast and no matter how big of a sail I mount on the deck it just won't go any faster. A larger sail however just catches more wind and when loaded from the side wind it wants to push the kayak over. I have been at times hanging way over the side of my kayaks trying to keep them from tipping while not noticing any increase in speed over a smaller sail.
Of course, if the wind is from behind (stern wind) and the waves have built up to a size that they start to lift the stern of the kayak where I can surf; my kayak will indeed go faster than hull speed.
It is these times that I find the SeaDog 0.7m² exceptional and easier to handle. As I surf down the wave (on a wind right behind me) the kayak will come to a point where the sail no longer seems to be inflated. At the bottom of the wave I will have the boom flap loose over the deck and wanting to swap sides. Then the gust of wind catches up with me and with a shuddering noise the sail slaps to the other side taken in by the main sheet. It is in this moment that a smaller sail will save me from a sudden imbalance and possible precarious lean that might result in a dunk. I don't feel the raw slap that bigger sails give me in high winds: the 0.7m² is easier to handle.
Another benefit of a smaller sail is when things do go pear shaped and I fall in.
I have been practicing rolling with a sail; starting from dead calm conditions to increased breezes and more bumpy seas. I find that a sail with a smaller surface has much less drag underwater and in a roll I can scull up without too much effort. Recently I have been trying to forego releasing the main sheet and just leave the sail alone while falling in. While slightly more difficult than releasing the main sheet (or uphaul) I am more confident in recovering with the sail just left as it was before falling in.
As winds increase to 20 knots and above I wonder if a smaller sail would not be even better?
Maybe that is something I should look into...
.
17 November 2014
Vandal or innocent fun?
At my favorite camping spot I was confronted with this scene.
To paint the picture a bit I should mention that it is a National Park heavily frequented by motor boats; a popular destination for day trips or overnight camping; in other words a busy place, not remote at all.
I did not know how to react and experience has taught me not to engage too much with somebody possibly not doing the right thing. My initial reaction was disbelief soon followed by anger: somebody was cutting down trees that offered shelter from the sun and wind, in a natural place pleasant enough that I often call home for a night or two.
But the best I could do was to keep my distance somehow and just take photographs.
Even though the youngster did not look too menacing, my camera is no match for an axe; if not used by the youth, certainly by the parent not too far away.
There were a dozen trees that have been freshly cut, some a bit too large that seem to have deterred the short attention span of the kid that found attacking smaller ones more rewarding.
The child was still hacking away when I got near him but then he stopped and watched me for a while.
I am not sure what went through his head and if he felt that a camera on the scene might have prompted to review his actions.
It was not long before the adults arrived to see why the chopping stopped.
I was asked what I was doing and I explained that I was photographing.
Again the older man wanted to know what for and I revealed that it was for documentation.
Hammer in hand he stepped closer to me and asked: What for?
I explained that somebody might be interested in my images, suggesting the ranger.
At this point the vibe changed and I could sense a shift in emotions.
The hammer holding man tried to convince me in a loud voice that his kid was just having fun and that I was not allowed to take pictures.
Soon a little group gathered (friends of the man) and started to shout rather insulting remarks.
It was clear to me that it would not be wise to try to explain my view, after all I was quickly labelled pedophile and pervert and police was going to be called in.
I thanked them for their decision to actually call the police as maybe a few things could be cleared but I never saw the arrival of any law enforcement.
I also knew that it was time to retreat, clearly outnumbered by menacing little crowd.
I walked away happy that despite my rage I was able to remain calm and not engage: it was not my place to prevent trees getting cut down.
Somehow maybe my presence and the fact of me taking images deterred the kid from continuing and the ax was put away: damage was done but at least not continued.
I feel sad that the child lives in ignorance and cuts trees down in a National Park, right where so many others try to enjoy the place. It makes me wonder what messages has he learned at school, or is the influence of his father stronger than what I hope the educational system has given him?
The other part in me also acknowledges that it could have been intended as innocent fun to build a cubby house (his father's words), just maybe in the wrong environment?
Later in the afternoon I suddenly heard a chain saw fired up and the shrieking sound of trees getting cut down at the other side of the camp.
This time, I was not going trying to document the event.
A kid with and axe is one thing, somebody waving a chainsaw at me is a bit different, especially if alcohol is involved...
.
To paint the picture a bit I should mention that it is a National Park heavily frequented by motor boats; a popular destination for day trips or overnight camping; in other words a busy place, not remote at all.
I did not know how to react and experience has taught me not to engage too much with somebody possibly not doing the right thing. My initial reaction was disbelief soon followed by anger: somebody was cutting down trees that offered shelter from the sun and wind, in a natural place pleasant enough that I often call home for a night or two.
But the best I could do was to keep my distance somehow and just take photographs.
Even though the youngster did not look too menacing, my camera is no match for an axe; if not used by the youth, certainly by the parent not too far away.
There were a dozen trees that have been freshly cut, some a bit too large that seem to have deterred the short attention span of the kid that found attacking smaller ones more rewarding.
The child was still hacking away when I got near him but then he stopped and watched me for a while.
I am not sure what went through his head and if he felt that a camera on the scene might have prompted to review his actions.
It was not long before the adults arrived to see why the chopping stopped.
I was asked what I was doing and I explained that I was photographing.
Again the older man wanted to know what for and I revealed that it was for documentation.
Hammer in hand he stepped closer to me and asked: What for?
I explained that somebody might be interested in my images, suggesting the ranger.
At this point the vibe changed and I could sense a shift in emotions.
The hammer holding man tried to convince me in a loud voice that his kid was just having fun and that I was not allowed to take pictures.
Soon a little group gathered (friends of the man) and started to shout rather insulting remarks.
It was clear to me that it would not be wise to try to explain my view, after all I was quickly labelled pedophile and pervert and police was going to be called in.
I thanked them for their decision to actually call the police as maybe a few things could be cleared but I never saw the arrival of any law enforcement.
I also knew that it was time to retreat, clearly outnumbered by menacing little crowd.
I walked away happy that despite my rage I was able to remain calm and not engage: it was not my place to prevent trees getting cut down.
Somehow maybe my presence and the fact of me taking images deterred the kid from continuing and the ax was put away: damage was done but at least not continued.
I feel sad that the child lives in ignorance and cuts trees down in a National Park, right where so many others try to enjoy the place. It makes me wonder what messages has he learned at school, or is the influence of his father stronger than what I hope the educational system has given him?
The other part in me also acknowledges that it could have been intended as innocent fun to build a cubby house (his father's words), just maybe in the wrong environment?
Later in the afternoon I suddenly heard a chain saw fired up and the shrieking sound of trees getting cut down at the other side of the camp.
This time, I was not going trying to document the event.
A kid with and axe is one thing, somebody waving a chainsaw at me is a bit different, especially if alcohol is involved...
.
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