East Coast Views: Bulldog-and-Tandem Tow

April-May 2005

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by Adam Bolonsky

'Go’ probably wasn’t the best choice. About twenty of us were huddled in the lee of a dense stand of trees which thicken the inner shoreline of Lanes Cove, a commercial fishermen’s refuge where heavy granite seawalls protect the heart of the cove from the violent pulse of the ocean. The season was fall, that dicey time of year here on the east coast when the air is often colder than the ocean. The seas were, to borrow from local parlance, ’energized’. The wind was blowing about fifteen, scooping up waves that broke heavily against the shore. The waves were steep-peaked, twisting and chaotic, like cake frosting.

Six of us, regarded as the best, though not necessarily the brightest, of our local paddling network, were there to teach what we knew about roughwater paddling. The plan was to slog offshore seventy-five yards with the weather on our bows, then turn and take the weather on beam to make our way down the coast.

“We a go?” Scott asked the group. “Let’s do it.”

We headed down to the boats. I had reservations about what we were doing. The air temperature was worrisome, the winds onshore, the sea state days old and fully developed. More troubling was the number of paddlers about whose skills I knew nothing. But rather than create doubt within the group (or worse, be viewed as self-doubting), I remained mute. Who wants to be the first to say, “Hey, are we sure we’ve planned this thing well?”

We exited the cove in a handful of distinct groups, each group allowing a few minutes separation before making its way into the open bay. In my group were Rick #1 (lead), Rick #2 (flank), me (sweep), Bethany, Jonathan and Dee. Almost immediately after turning beam-to outside the cove to run down the coast, Bethany began to founder. Her kayak rolled heavily from gunwale to gunwale, her bow sliding leeward. Her facial expression revealed the feelings of a paddler wracked by fear and doubt. Her brow was creased and she made her way along awkwardly. Meanwhile the hydraulics of the swell and wind were nudging her shoreward, towards the waves rising in the shallows.

I backed down towards her to clip on a short towline to her stern. My idea was to back us both out, stern to the wind and waves, while one of the Ricks clipped a second, longer towline to her bow. Then with me supporting Bethany’s boat, Rick and I would pivot her, move her further offshore, get her stabilized and back into the cove.

In the Bulldog-and-tandem tow, one paddler stabilizes the distressed paddler while a second turns the pair into the wind. The third rescuer is the bulldog. ©Illustrations by Pete Smith

It went badly at first, then it got worse. Bethany and I were almost immediately scudded shoreward faster than we could back-paddle. And as we sloughed in towards shore, two large waves rose. The first broke. I unbuckled my tow belt and heaved it overboard. I didn’t want the rope to wrap around my neck if I capsized. Me first, then the victim, is the first rule of rescue. Released, Bethany’s boat immediately accelerated shoreward. She capsized in the shallows, wet-exited near a boulder and got pounded when the second wave broke. When she came up, she stood either between her boat and the boulder or between my boat and hers: I don’t remember because by now everything was confusing—the breaking waves, the looming boulders, Bethany out of her boat, me knowing I’d have to roll. Stupidly, I was not wearing a helmet.

A third wave came in, jacked and broke. I capsized and rolled. When I came up, I saw that my boat was now compressed against Bethany’s upturned hull. No Bethany. Another wave. I rolled. I came up from that roll and found that my boat was now wedged on top of Bethany’s bow. I looked around, panicky. Where was she?

Someone put out a call on VHF 72. The call crackled across the communications bridge we’d formed with our radios. I couldn’t tell who was calling. The Coast Guard? The police?

Diagrams show how the recovering paddler is stabilized by the secondary rescuer while the the primary rescuer establishes the tow (A). It is crucial that the towline is clipped to the unstable paddler’s boat. Clipping onto the rescuer’s boat could create problems should the rescue go sour. Once the tow has been set up, the fourth paddler, known as the ‘bulldog’, pushes the towed kayaks to windward so that they can be towed offshore (B). Without the bulldog, the tow will not be able to pivot the two boats in the strong waves and wind. The bulldog also verbally runs the rescue, as the only one who has a clear overview of the situation (C). © Illustrations by Pete Smith

I looked around. Bethany was now scrambling up the face of the boulder. Rick and I landed and helped her haul her boat higher up on shore. She had suffered a blow to the head and numerous bruises to her knees, but she was okay. She also scratched up her brand-new drysuit.

After a short conference, she set out for her car on foot. When she returned, we loaded her boat onto the roof, and she drove off.

There were many errors my group and I made that day off Lanes Cove—paddling too close to shore in an onshore blow, my own unwillingness (and perhaps that of others, too) to voice any doubts about what we were doing, and above all, how we handled the rescue. Rather than me starting with a stern tow, Rick and I and, more importantly, a third rescuer, should have helped Bethany with a group rescue now known locally as the ‘Bulldog-and-tandem tow’.

Developed by North Shore Paddlers Network members Liz Neumeier, Dee and Bob Hall, Steve Feldman, and others, the Bulldog-and-tandem tow is perhaps the best rescue to deploy while paddling windward coasts—but only if your group is paddling at least 50 yards off shore.

If members of your group have undeveloped or untested roughwater skills, paddling further offshore reduces the likelihood that the rougher, more turbulent waters that characterize a windward coastline will capsize someone. Further offshore keeps your group out of waters roiled by the chaos and the hydraulics of waves breaking close to shore. While paddling further offshore may seem counter-intuitive at first (after all, further offshore will take your group further away from the dry land everybody associates with safety), it does create a much wider safety zone in which to complete a rescue.

It gives rescuers more time to get a capsized paddler back into the boat before all are driven shoreward, to comfort and reassure one another, and piece together the crucial paddling superego, the self- assurance needed to continue paddling.

So whenever ‘go’ means paddling a windward coast, make sure it also means: Go offshore and Go into Bulldog-and- tandem tow mode should somebody require help. The Bulldog-and-tandem tow, like no other rescue, addresses the most challenging element of an onshore winds-and-waves rescue: how to get two towed boats—the unstable paddler and the stabilizer—to turn bow-to the wind and weather, and to get the heck further offshore, before everyone ends up in the surf.

Assisted Rescue Sequence

Photos from various events are compiled here to illustrate the rescue.

The capsized paddler has already wet-exited from the capsized boat and is now working with the rescuer to push/ pull the righted kayak up over the rescuer’s deck to drain it. © Photo courtesy of Ecomarine Coastal Kayaking School. www.ecomarine.com

The rescuer inverts the kayak so that most of the water drains out, then turns it upright and slides it off into the water.© Alan Wilson photo

The rescuer aligns the drained kayak beside his/her boat and holds it tightly while the paddler in the water climbs onto the back deck of the empty boat, facing sternwards. Tucking his/her legs into the cockpit, the paddler swivels around and slides back in, finishes emptying any residual water with the pump, secures the sprayskirt, and is good to go! Note: in rough or cold weather, immediate re-entry would be better, without first draining the kayak, so as to minimize the risk of hypothermia.© Alan Wilson photo

© Adam Bolonsky, WaveLength’s East Coast Correspondent, is a New England sea kayaking instructor and sea kayak fishing guide based in Gloucester, MA. Adam@WaveLengthMagazine.com