GEAR: sea kayak sail set up options

I was now heading for the cliffs fast and frantically tried to depower my sail.
I had been sailing in following seas with increasingly stronger winds and having a ball.
My kayak was humming along and surfing from wave to wave; it was one of the most exciting days of a month long trip in the Swedish East coast archipelago.
I was in a borrowed kayak and loaded with a lot of gear and food, my kayak was tracking pretty straight.


borrowed kayaks set up with Flat Earth sails and KariTec hardware

I let go of my main sheet, the rope that holds the boom in position and with the wind from behind the sail swung to the front. I felt relief as my kayak slowed down and I was travelling now at a much lower speed thinking I had avoided ending up against the cliffs.
I then let go of my up haul (the rope that holds the mast upright) and nothing happened. I tried to lower my sail altogether and stow it back on deck but that just would not happen; the wind kept on pushing my bow downwind and the kayak would not broach on the waves coming from behind! I continued to head to the cliffs…


not actual footage of event
Desperately I pulled the main sheet again hoping to bring my sail around but the wind was too strong and the boom was just stuck in a forward position. I was not happy, actually a bit panicky to tell the truth; I have never experienced that before.

On my sails when the conditions become unmanageable I just simply let my uphaul rope out from the cleat, the kayak broaches pushed by the wave from behind and the sail falls into the water.
The forward momentum brings the sail close to the cockpit where I can collect it and secure it on deck: I have done it hundreds of times.
With the sail set up with the boom above the side stays, the boom could swing all the way around instead of stopping on the stays at about 90 degrees with the kayak. Once the boom is in the forward position I could not bring it back to me as the wind was exerting too much pressure on the sail; the mast stood up proud and solid.
Eventually, with monumental effort, great acceleration and strong sweep strokes I managed to bring my kayak around enough to let the sail fall into the water. I caught up with my paddling partner who was new to sailing; she was having the same problem as me and I helped her out of danger of the cliffs. It was an experience that I did not predict and did not want to repeat. However a few days later the same thing happened but this time I was in open waters and I had time to get myself sorted.

Things I learned from this experience:
- I prefer the predictability of my sail set ups: if the wind is too strong I can just drop my sail anytime
- While theoretically the full swing boom should make things easier in high winds it did not for me as I could no longer lower the sail.

I paid close attention to some sail set ups in my paddling circles and noticed somebody with an additional rope coming from the mast back to his cockpit. He had boom-above-3 stays set up and explained to me that the additional rope was to bring his mast down when sailing down wind. It made sense to me: he must have similar problems than me although he usually does not sail in stiff breezes.


sail set up with additional down haul rope

One question remains: to bring down the sail in a downwind situation he must use two hands to pull the rope back in?
That reminds me of V sails where one must actively pull the sail down instead of letting it just fall down on its own. It was one of the reasons that I opted out from those sails: I wanted a more efficient way of handling dicey situations.

I understand that my system of two side/back stays has a few problems:
- there is more pressure from the mast onto the deck of the kayak; decks need to be very stiff or reinforced internally
- the boom can not swing all the way around for de-powering in case of a stiff breeze, but as I found out that might not be a good thing?

The advantages:
- there is less pressure on the mast as the stays anchor higher up. I wonder how many mast would I have broken by now if I used the other system ( I do hear of people braking masts in higher winds)
- sail mounted lower therefore less healing (force of wind trying to tip me over),
- two less ropes to deal with on deck. On the 3 stays set up more ropes add to more chances of entanglement if tipped over and trying to roll back up? I know that occasionally I have to wiggle my paddle out of a loose stays before I scull my kayak if tipped over.

While there is an increased risk with ropes on deck I am used to them now and deal with them. However I rather not add any more than I have to.

These are my findings on sailing with both systems: 2 side/back stays and 3 stays.
I know that there is a strong following with the 3 stays set ups but I also hear that that is not recommended for winds that I usually enjoy sailing in.
I wanted to share my experience of sailing sea kayaks for ten years, the last 4 with Flat Earth.

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VIDEO: sea kayak sailing best hits

A short collection of sea kayak sailing best moments.
From expedition distance paddling to fast afternoon outings Flat Earth Sails have been a trusted companion on my rudderless kayaks.
After years of using Flat Earth Sails these days I welcome windy conditions when sea kayaking.
Every kayak that I have fitted a sail to has delivered great fun, but some kayaks sail better than others.

 
Video produced for a sea kayak gathering in Austria. View it in full screen if not using a mobile device.

If the winds are blowing above 20 knots I prefer a smaller sail of 0.8m² since most kayaks I own have a relatively low hull speed; a bigger sail does not equate to higher speed. However, with lighter breezes I often can sail slightly faster with a 1.0m² as I usually don't reach the kayak's hull speed.
I prefer masts in carbon fibre with only two side/backstays instead of the often recommended 3 stays.
On my sail set ups the boom swing is limited to 180° and I now firmly believe that this configuration is safer than the full 360° swing of a 3 stays set up.
After recently sailing for a month and 500 Km (in borrowed kayaks) I have concluded that limiting the boom swing prevents dangerous situation when sailing in higher winds.
More details on my findings in this post here

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Photo: Seal Cove camp

The soft warm light of the long evening produced again a spectacular sunset; the early storm was long gone. There was no rush in preparing dinner to avoid cooking with headlamp as darkness would come after we had already retired to our tents. Laying on the polished rock we exchanged paddling stories: my tropical sandy beaches compared to Scandinavian granite labyrinth. I was still surprised that I managed to meet up with Pia and Erik on the water among so many islands that all looked the same.
As we were sipping our best moonshine a black head appeared bobbing in the little bay. A seal was trying to catch her dinner. Then she looked at us intently as trying to figure out what we were, the colorful kayaks maybe confused her.



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VIDEO: Magic Island

Lost on the Swedish East coast archipelago there is an place that I named Magic Island.
The early afternoon thunderstorm cleared and the sky was now promising a colorful sunset.
We went for a walk.


view it in full screen, full HD (1080p) if you have broadband Internet connection

Non esitono distanze, ma solo posti diversi in cui ritrovarsi_ Emilio Averga
(There is no such thing as distance apart, just more places where we can meet.)
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Photo: Sea of jelly fish

An evening paddle as the sun was setting, my paddle bumping the jelly fish, sea turtles' favorite food.




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Technique: pitching a tent on rocky slabs

My favorite natural environment is rock; granite to be precise.
I am not a rock climber these days but I have always gravitated to locations where exposed granite forms the landscape.
Last season I traveled to the  High Sierras, to a familiar area.
This season I chose to undertake a sea kayak trip instead where thousands of little island gently emerge from the sea and create incredibly smooth landscapes.
There is a strong similarity between the High Sierra and the Stockholm archipelago; both have glacially polished granite, the latter at sea level.
For the Sierras I chose a very light shelter since I knew I didn't need an inner tent to protect myself from insects.



For Sweden I chose a tunnel tent: a known design able to shed wind well.
I chose a non-freestanding tent over a more pitch-friendly free standing one because of weight and bulk. I dislike travelling with heavy gear and flying across the word to reach my destination usually limits my choice of equipment; there is an incredible difference between car camping and international travel.

Tunnel tents however pose some problems when pitching on hard ground.
Staking out the ends of the tent is essential  to keep the tent erect (unlike in a freestanding tent).
Since polished granite offers too much resistance for conventional pegging (like rock-hard ground!) a little tinkering on my part is usually necessary to have a secure shelter for the night.



Instead of relying on pegs at the stake point I collect a stick and a couple of decent size rocks.
I insert the stick into the stake loop of the tent and place it horizontally on the ground where a large rock will secure it in place. I find that a rock on top of a stick is generally a way better anchor than a typical tent peg pushed into soft ground.

Furthermore, where the ground is a polished slab there are usually a few cracks.
Here is where I like to place a little wired metal wedge designed for rock-climbing  (aka stoppers, nuts, rocks etc).
A carefully placed wedge is bombproof and no amount of wind will rip that anchor out.


Black Diamond stopper
In locations where there is little to no trees, or large boulders to create a wind break, I am confident that my tunnel tent will stand  up to strong winds, even without any pegs secured into the ground.




Omega Pacific wedgie

Photo: Kiss in the Storm

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A summer storm can't dampen the spirit of love.

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Destination: Magic Island

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There is a place on the East Coast of Sweden, in the Baltic Sea, that I named “Magic Island”; I paddled to it on my recent Scandinavian sea kayak trip.
The seas were bumpy, created by the waves rebounding the rocky cliffs hitting the outer islands. I was paddling unprotected waters and the steady breeze from the preceding  days was sending a decent swell in my direction. My paddling companion Petra was a little concerned as her paddling experience was mostly limited to very different waters of land locked Austrian lakes; the last time she paddled salt water was in Pacific Ocean, Australia.
Rounding the South-East point still presented non land-able locations for a camp. The map showed a little cove but I was having a bit of trouble finding it; after all with 30.000 islands in the Stockholm archipelago alone I was now having doubts that I was in the right place… And suddenly there it was, as promised by my little map, a fantastic sheltered bay of polished granite.



The action of the glacier of the last Ice Age some 11.000 years ago managed to shape this very hard granite into smooth rocky waves. The location of this island away from the mainland prevented a lot of vegetation from taking hold and the winter storms have dwarfed and shaped the small trees. The presence of this windy place was palpable; I felt exposed and vulnerable here. The skies turned to dark clouds and storms could be seen approaching.



I climbed up a small rocky outcrop and could see lighting in the distance. The storm would be upon us soon and I made sure I secured our tent with extra guidelines anchored to the cracks in the granite. The wind came followed by a downpour and as we lay in the tent, I was glad that I was picky in selecting just the right tent site as small creeks ran down the smooth rocky slopes. We stayed dry and the tent proved to be solid. But as most summer thunderstorms this one did not last and eventually it passed leaving only a few puffy clouds around. The sun was getting lower and the magic hour was approaching (I borrow this term from my early inspirational photographer Galen Rowel. Galen describes the perfect time of the day to take photographs when the light is warm and the shadows long as magic hour). The rock was still wet but we wanted to see the sunset on the other side of the island, facing West.
We took a walk.





In Sweden, at such high latitudes, the sun sets later in the evening and the twilight lasts so much longer than at home in Australia; I did not have to rush to see the landscape in its best light but I could take my time to wonder around and pose to take it all in. Cold enough to wear a wind braking jacket I could feast with my eyes on the sensual soft shapes of granite waves sculpted by ice. A few birds were still trying to catch dinner before darkness fell and I kept on smiling, happy to be present in this magical place.






Video coming soon
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Photo: ominous evening sky

Evening brought heavy skies and wind.
The small cove of a rocky island was going to be home for the night.

Kayak swapping

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I know I live in a great part of the world where sea kayaking is really beautiful and easy.
Australia, and especially Queensland is a very desirable destination coveted by paddlers around the globe.
While I receive a lot of comments of how beautiful my part of the world is, I occasionally connect on a deeper level with some paddlers. Johan Wirsen, designer of my Zegul 520, was interested in my paddling style and we came to know of each other. He sounded friendly and considerate and after a few emails I invited him to come and visit me to paddle warm waters while his Baltic sea was gripped by a thick sheet of ice. I have enough kayaks that would fit a range of paddlers and enough gear to outfit a small party. We spoke on the phone and travel was arranged soon after; Johan trusted me to look after him. All I had was one small picture to go by to spot him at the airport pick-up but there was no mistake; somehow I recognized him from the distance. We planned a mini sea kayak camping expedition to the warm waters of the Capricorn coast.



Johan tried kayak sailing for the first time and we exchanged ideas and shared the passion for paddling and kayak design. Johan’s personality suited well; mellow enough to go with the flow but with great skills to feel comfortable in demanding conditions. We have similar goals too: no rush, no racing, no destination fever, just happy to explore and play on the water. The rest is just details.
I was invited to visit him in his native country in the Baltic archipelago. Johan has a shed full of kayaks (he is not sure how many) and lives on the water of the Swedish East Coast.
I have been longing to see Scandinavia again since I first traveled there in my teens but little I knew that the coast is a paddler’s dream. Thousand of islands litter the rather calm sea that has very little tidal influence. Those images of tents pitched at almost water level on polished granite slabs are not staged, one can really do that. 





This year things fell into place and I am currently lost somewhere among those islands. Johan has limited vacation time in summer and only paddled with me for a short week, while I am continuing my sea trip heading North.
At the last Rock&Roll I was lucky to meet Petra, on her extended visit to the land of OZ. A very keen sea kayaker from the land locked Austria, she is my travel companion on this incredible trip although her “training” already started Down Under where she learned to roll in the warm waters of Moreton Bay.

It is wonderful how this little sea fearing vessels that have such ancient roots can bring people together from around the globe. The paddlers that I have met share the same passion for self reliant travel and simple life styles; I am drawn to them through this primeval need to be in contact with nature. I have shared amazing times with people that seek outdoor diversions to the structured life we lead. I have met sea kayakers that are authentic and honest, willing to open their hearts and homes to help and host travelers. It seems that the values of hospitality of the first kayakers of Greenland is now passed on to us.


2nd, 3rd and 4th image courtesy of Erik Sjostedt

I am not sure where I will end my trip but I will know when the time will come to get off the water and catch a bus back to my car.
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