Electronic Paddling Partners

December 2003 - January 2004

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
To download a pdf copy of the magazine click here: > DOWNLOAD

by Neil Schulman

Boats ashore near little Cape Horn.

It’s a Sunday in late March. I’m standing on a beach on the lower Columbia River, waiting for two people to return from running a downstream shuttle. And I’m a bit on edge, since I’m about to embark into potentially strong headwind-against-tide conditions with almost 20 people, most of whom I’ve never met before.

I had organized this paddle—one of my favorite paddles on the Columbia—as part of a newly-established electronic paddling community. In addition to sheer cliffs and gushing waterfalls, this stretch of the lower Columbia has a lot of ‘fetch’ and when outgoing tide and current meet a west wind, big whitecaps occur. I had quizzed everyone about their skills and experience over email and on the phone, but hearing and believing are different things.

NOT THE USUAL SUSPECT

I claim to be one of the world’s least computer- savvy people. I’m generally afraid of anything high-tech. I’m not a fan of cell phones, and I still believe in writing letters on actual pieces of paper and sending them with stamps.

So when a friend told me he’d signed me up for a listserv of sea kayakers around Portland, you can probably imagine my reaction— that’s great, but I’m sure I won’t use the listserv very much.

To my surprise, the online paddling listserv grew, went through a few minor bumps, and evolved into a real paddling community in which we’ve built skills and found new paddling partners. More and more of us (yes, even myself) are getting hooked up to the internet. So I offer this guide for making online paddling networks work.

WINTER PADDLING

As you’d expect, the first thing that happened was a bunch of us went paddling. I generally paddle through the winter, and several of us simply sent messages to the list announcing low-key paddles to winter wildlife spots around Portland. People I’d never met in Portland’s small-world kayaking community showed up, and our electronic paddling community was off to a great start.

One weekend a few of us headed to the lower Columbia River for a winter paddle through Lewis and Clark Wildlife Refuge, where winter conditions range from placid to anything but. Our paddle was calm and uneventful, but it raised the question of preparedness when you’re dealing with an unknown group. We started asking the natural questions: what if someone shows up who’s unprepared, ill-equipped, or not dressed for the conditions, not up to speed on rescues and other safety skills? When someone suggests a trip, are they leading it or just providing a meeting spot? What’s expected of them and others who join?

The online discussion got lively—and quite heated. Balancing safety with accessibility, informal learning from others with professional instruction, and spontaneity with careful planning, are among the issues that came up. In retrospect, the strong feelings don’t surprise me. We were trying to strike the hardest balances in any group activity, without imposing any top-down leadership.

HASHING IT OUT

After this debate had gone on for awhile, my friends Dan and Tony had the idea that made the difference. They got a bunch of us together at Tony’s house for a potluck. Dan (an instructor) gave a short overview of basic kayaking skills and equipment for some of the new paddlers, we ate some good food, drank Tony’s home-brewed beer, and got to meet each other face-to-face.

Bellies full, we talked about the list and our visions for it. We ended up back at the original concept: use the list to get as many people on the water, as often as possible, and use the vast collective paddling experience of the group to keep things safe and to build and practice skills.

A few weeks after our potluck, we had a good test: the paddle along the lower Columbia that Sunday in March. Sure enough, the wind picked up, and for much of the day we fought big wind waves that cleaned our decks.

But it worked. We got a bunch of paddlers of varying skill levels out in some rough water, with lots of expertise but nobody in charge or dictating to the group. We got a great workout, and some of us stretched our paddling horizons in a good learning environment, with plenty of supportive people around.

INFORMAL SKILL-BUILDING

Not too long after the Columbia paddle, a few of us organized something called ‘Splashfest’. The idea was to encourage people to hone their paddling, bracing, and boat control skills in a safe, fun setting. Having these skills in common would give us a more solid basis of safety for listservgenerated trips, as well as provide some great informal learning opportunities. We picked a day in early summer, met along the Columbia, and practiced rescues, bracing, leaned turns, paddle strokes and towing, and a few people worked on their rolls. There were plenty of experienced folks to help coach, and plenty of food to go around. We keep threatening to repeat it.

Now, two people post a ‘weekly navigation quiz’ on everything from navigational aids to predicting paddling conditions under various weather conditions. There’s usually a paddle of some kind at least every other week through the summer and monthly, full-moon paddles.

MAKING IT WORK

If our experience in Portland is any guide, an online paddling community can be fun and valuable—even for a technophobe like me. Of course, there are also lots of awful listservs out there. Here are my tips to making it work.

1. Encourage all skill levels. One of the benefits of our group is that we’ve got everyone from new kayakers to those with decades of instructing under their belt. But anyone can and often does organize and post trips, and ask and answer questions. That helps us achieve the second goal, which is to....
   

2. Get on the water. A lot of electronic groups, on whatever subject, end up being about gear. While we certainly share info on equipment, we’ve also done a great job of getting our boats wet.
   

3. Establish some standard for posting trips. The flip side of being encouraging and spontaneous is that you never know everyone’s level of experience or knowledge. We came up with a few general guidelines. First, when anyone ‘posts’ a trip, they are responsible for describing the paddle, distance, likely weather and sea conditions to be encountered, and skills that people should have. Once we’re on the water, we travel as slow as the slowest boat and look out for each other.
   

4. Practice safety and skills as a group. Practicing provides a common denominator for basic safety skills on group trips. It also provides an opportunity for informal learning from others to supplement (but not replace) professional instruction.
   

5. Meet face to face. Email is a strange method of communication. It’s great for sharing information, but it really takes effort to thoughtfully debate topics about which we feel strongly. Sometimes people will be more accusatory and less respectful than they would ever be in person. Our potluck helped us to sort out how we wanted to operate, and was a watershed moment because it was the first time most of us had ever met. Having faces (and food) attached to email addresses creates a human bond and makes these discussions easier.
   

6. Expect evolution. All groups evolve and usually the changes happen quickly in the early stages. (Experts in community development call this the ‘form-norm-storm-perform’ process.) The members will always be changing, so your focus and the way you relate to each other and paddle together will also change. A constructive conversation about the list itself, again face-to-face, is a good thing every once in a while.

So take it from someone who often wishes computers were never invented: electronic kayaking groups can be lots of fun and a good connection to local kayakers. Just don’t forget to put down your mouse, pick up your paddle, and go get wet!

© Neil Schulman lives in Portland, Oregon, where he does nonprofit environmental work and generally tries to stay out of trouble.