DIFFERENT STROKES

Winter 2008

Why Offshore Cruisers Love Their Kayaks

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 Barbara Gail Warden

Offshore cruisers have pretty similar tastes in kayaks: light (to stow aboard without adding weight), sit-on-top (to avoid swamping, and to let waves on deck wash through those little holes), space for two if possible. I’ve seen seat #2 filled by child, dog, charcoal, groceries and dog-eared books in Ziploc bags.

But cruisers definitely don’t have the same reasons for loving their kayaks. Rationales I’ve heard for toting another boat along: stress relief, boat “bikes,” the bug that wouldn’t get out of William’s head, a second car. Cruising around Martinique this year, I met a slew of cruisers with kayaks, and every one had a different take.

Michele and Michelle Nalide from Toulon, France, have had their Lagoon 380 catamaran Pinaki six years, but just added two kayaks last year. The Ms keep their kayaks secured to lifelines in port for easy launching, but quickly learned to lash them tightly on the forward deck for passages, as kayaks are notoriously prone to washing over the side in big waves—common in the steady 25 to 30 knot trade winds and 10 foot seas off Martinique! Asked what they like best about the kayaks, Michelle says “Maintenant, comme nous avons deux voitures.” Now, it’s like we have two cars.

“When you start cruising, sailing keeps you busy, but now I can’t imagine how we did without them,” says Debbie from Sea U Manana. “Getting kayaks was like getting bikes for the kids. We anchor close in (easy on their Prout 50 catamaran, with about a two-foot draft), the kids push the kayaks over the bow and take them to the beach. They get freedom, we get privacy, and we can see them from the boat.” Chatty Debbie and strong silent Peter Verstoep from Manitoba, Canada, found kayak number one on the beach in the Exuma Islands in the Bahamas. While Debbie was picking up shells, she glanced down the beach and spotted what looked like a body bag—long, dark green, almost covered in sand and seaweed. “She sent me to investigate the corpse,” says Peter dryly. What he uncovered was a Wilderness Systems kayak in pristine condition. With no apparent owners—indeed, they saw no one for miles, or days—the kayak had a new home. “And the boys loved it so much, we had to buy another one, which we did in St Maarten, the first place we saw sit-on-top kayaks. It’s another Wilderness Systems, because it’s nice to have matching ones,” says Debbie cheerfully. But the real value of the kayaks for Debbie and Peter lies in the atmosphere they bring to family exploration. “In a dinghy, you’re hurrying, buzzing along with the engine going. On a kayak, it’s peaceful. Beautiful, silent...” The Verstoeps have paddled their kayaks through still sunset waters in the British Virgin Islands, in the erratic coves of the Dominican Republic, and up hushed and remote rivers in Dominica. “Some islands just speak to you,” says Peter. “Kayaks let you explore them without intruding.”

“I see you’re looking at my stress reliever,” says a husky voice as I gaze at the first ride-inside kayak I’ve seen on a cruising boat. I look around, behind, then finally down, to see Jane Baum eyeing me from the dinghy lashed alongside 37 foot Cheetah II in the busy marina. Jane is cleaning the hull of the growth that appears within days in the Caribbean, while watching me study their innovative upside-down over-the-stern kayak framework. Deeply tanned Dick and Jane (really) Baum have been cruisers for almost eight years, initially with their dog Spot (really), who has since gone to Dalmatian heaven but whose memory lives on aboard Cheetah II. Avid kayakers before becoming cruisers, Dick and Jane had his-and-hers Infinity kayaks for years. “Some of the old ones,” says Jane, “just like our boat.” They left “his” at home (mostly for space).

“Most cruisers prefer sit-on-tops—do you find this kind swamps?” I ask.

“No, I never swamp it,” says Jane immediately.

“But she tries,” adds Dick.

“Well, once I did.”

"You’re really kayakers though,” I say, “so if you flip, can you just roll up?” Debbie looks amused.

“Well, no. But I can swim out,” she adds, grinning. “And it really is my stress reliever. Whenever the boat gets too close, you know,” with a sidelong look at her husband, “I just jump in and take off! I’ve kayaked from the boat all over the Gulf coast, the Bahamas...”

“Several times,” adds Dick. Next up for Dick and Jane: Kayaking off Trinidad, Tobago, then around and up to the beautiful San Blas Islands off the coast of Panama.

I meet up with another French couple cruising with kayaks after recapturing more high school French: Patrick and Catherine Dannion on their 41 foot steel Voilier, Cap Eol, with dog and kayak aboard. Sailing through the Caribbean, Patrick and Catherine kayaked most recently in St. Martin (Anse Marse), and St. Bart, and when I dinghy up to Cap Eol to ask about their kayak habits, they’re about to launch their kayaks in Martinique. They say they’re intentionally favoring French ports, but not for the food—it’s because they only speak French!

After visiting kayaking friends in Maine shortly before taking off in 2005 on Alouette (a Shannon 43), Sue, John, and kids Katie and William DeLong really wanted a kayak. Especially William. So that year, Santa brought an inflatable, stowable Savenor with plastic skeg to enable it to track. Guess what. It didn’t. The Savenor, while fun for play (my nephews happily use theirs river rafting in upstate Vermont), wasn’t what William had in mind. Friends had shown them stroke techniques, and how to back, and the inflatable didn’t cut it. Fortunately, near Isla Caja de Muertos off Salinas, Puerto Rico, what did they spy but a kayak, adrift in the water with no boats in sight. (If this seems oddly common, remember big waves love to wash things off decks.) They sailed into Salinas and asked around, but found no claimers. Thus, they gained a kayak, and boy, have they used it. They started in Puerto Rico, continued around Virgin Gorda, the Dominican Republic, and St. Lucia, where they use the kayak to get to the beach without launching their pristine dinghy with its fabulous one-pull outboard. As Sue and John reorganize their canned goods—an all-important cruising occupation—I watch the kids handily maneuver the kayak in a choppy harbor with 25 knot winds. Cruising skills pay off in kayaking.

And kayaks pay off in cruising. In privacy, peace, togetherness, solitude, and good healthy exercise, kayaks more than repay their initial investment.

Barbara Gail Warden, a former marketing exec turned freelance writer, divides her time between New England and the Caribbean.