Lessons from an incident in the Baja

May 1994

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.

by David Pinel

Through good planning, paddlers generally manage to avoid sticky paddling situations. But sticky situations can make us "that much wiser", as was the case this past winter in Baja.

One morning, some of our group decided to hike from our base camp to a point near the mouth of a bay for some whale watching. The rest of us decided to paddle along the shore and rendezvous with the others for lunch.

With a persistent northwest wind at our backs and a slight current carrying us along, we easily beat the hikers to our destination some 2 miles away, reaching it in half an hour.

At that point we saw some gray whale spouts out in the mouth of the bay. Two of us at the back stopped paddling, drifted along and watched for more spouts. The boats ahead of us headed out to get a better view of these mammalian giants.

From our perspective at the rear, we could see the deceptive strength of the current building closer to the mouth of the bay. We quickly paddled to catch up with the others about 150 metres offshore and had them alter course for shore. But by now we were no longer in the lee of the island and were exposed to a gusting, 15-20 knot wind, with steep 3-foot waves.

Everyone in the group was a smooth and consistent paddler with good endurance, but this was a question of sheer power. Half of the group began making obvious headway back toward shore, but two of the others were having trouble. With each slip backwards, the forces of wind, waves, and current only became stronger.

In order to keep the group together, those of us ahead turned to rejoin the others. Using a towline for one of the boats, and all energy reserves, we managed to keep together for the next hour, some 2 miles southeast of the intended rendezvous site. It was essential that we keep close to that location in the hope that we would be visible to our friends on shore and to any boats entering the bay. We were floundering around in a cross-hatch of 7 to 10 foot, occasionally breaking waves, with swell from the Pacific and winds gusting to 30 knots. We were getting tired and cold from the driving wind, unyielding spray, and depletion of energy. One paddler became sick. It was time to raft up.

Once rafted, we tried to use our flare guns to signal a motor yacht which was some 2 miles north of us. No response. We also tried to contact the boat by VHF radio. Still no response. While some of the group were anxious to keep firing flares, it was obvious they weren't very visible in the bright daylight. Some failed and those that shot off were quickly smothered at low altitude in the wind. After drifting for some time, the masts of a very large sailboat were seen over the wave tops.

When our flares failed to attract attention, even though the boat was only about 200 metres away, I broke from the raft to intercept the vessel before it passed by. Just as I managed to come alongside, a crew member spotted our group, catching sight of the light green double kayak we had with us.

Captain Olivier de Kerdrel and his crew of the Colombaio Star were very friendly and efficient in the rescue. It was a dramatic sight to watch our kayaks being hauled up 15 feet onto the upper deck of the swaying vessel. Once all aboard, we exchanged thanks and handshakes, wrapped up in warm blankets, and refuelled with food and warm drinks. With our adrenalin slowing, everyone began to realize just how tired and cold they had become.

I'm sure that all involved have relived the incident and the unravelling of events several times over in their heads. Compliments to those who were out there for keeping their heads together, and thanks to the Colombaio Star, to those on shore who began organizing help, and to the local Mexican fishermen who beginning to launch a rescue when we were picked up.

In retrospect we can all see ways this situation could have been avoided. But a lot was learned. Here are a few things to keep in mind:

Tips for Survival

• Always keep your rescue/emergency gear handy. Even if you're just going out for what may seem like a short paddle, emergency situations can arise suddenly. Sometimes it may seem burdensome to always "be prepared" like a Boy Scout, but trust me, it was nice to have the gear handy when needed (flares on deck, VHF radio, towline, spare paddles, high-energy snack food, water, an extra hat, jackets, etc.). It was also reassuring to have adequate supplies in the event of an unexpected overnighter, just in case.

• Don't be deceived by a wide opening to a large body of water -currents can still be strong, especially on a full moon. Everyone should be aware of this potential hazard.

• In group travel, much confusion can be avoided, even with a pre-arranged route plan, if each leader monitors a "working" channel on their VHF radio while on the water, and "touches base" whenever altering plans. In our case, the whale watchers could have been summoned back toward shore before the current took hold.

• Keeping the group together is imperative for practical and psychological reasons. The stronger paddlers can help with towing or rescue situations in the event of capsize. It also allows for pooling of resources (food, water, flares, etc.). Groups are also a more visible search target when held together.

• When attaching a towline, be aware this can heighten anxiety. It helps to reassuringly explain that the person being towed will still be able to control the direction and stability of their own kayak.

• It helps if every member of the group has a sense of responsibility for keeping an eye on each other. In strong seas it is dangerously easy for paddlers to simply focus on their own paddling and drift apart.

• Don't exhaust your resources all at once. The panic of trying to get help can quickly deplete your flare supply, drain your VHF radios, or jeopardize stability. Definitely signal for assistance but take a few extra breaths and keep analyzing the "worst case scenario" and considering your options.

• In our case, the flare guns proved practically useless. A supply of parachute flares would have been much better. Smoke flares might be more visible on bright days, but in windy conditions smoke quickly dissipates.

• Group morale was the key to our cooperation and safe rescue. It is vital to monitor energy levels of your companions. Anxieties need to be calmed with reassurance and optimism.