Disclaimer: This is the English avatar (not exactly a translation, though close) of a Spanish-language blog. I am not a native English speaker, so I would ask readers to bear kindly with this attempt (possibly too bold) and the mistakes it will entail and to accept the apologies for them I offer in advance here.




Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Kayak. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Kayak. Mostrar todas las entradas

martes, 29 de septiembre de 2009

Changes (I). Spartan


2009 has brought a number of substantial changes to my kayaking. Some are very evident. For example: going into my garage it is hard not to notice that where a single kayak used to lie comfortably I am now trying to squeeze two plus the in-progress frame of the traditional SOF I am spasmodically building. And none of the two kayaks is the old one.

Chronologically, the Spartan came first and shared the garage with my old Creus for a time. The Spartan 4.6 is Fun Run Kayaks' faithful (and beautiful), fiberglass rendition of a West Greenland kayak. The key ingredients are all there: low volume, hard chines, low decks, relatively narrow beam, pointy, overhanging ends... However, at just 4.60 m long (and 50 cm wide), the Spartan seems to derive some inspiration from the recent rolling qajaqs besides the traditional hunting ones. The video below should give a fair idea of how the Spartan looks



The way I became its owner makes this kayak quite special to me. It came as the 2nd prize of a contest generously sponsored by its maker, Fun Run Kayaks. This was probably the only way I might ever get this boat. I knew it, I liked it (actually, I loved it), I had longingly looked at pictures of it again and again. However, I always regarded it as too much of a whim. One in which I was not going to indulge.For someone of my size, the Spartan 4.6 cannot cannot really work well for multiday trips. Even overnighters would be stretching it and I do both every now and then. Hence what I really need is a more versatile boat, that performs well with a load, but also in day trips. Moreover, at my current skill level, a 50 cm wide, low volume kayak should prove a bit of a challenge if conditions become "interesting".

In fact, I would guess that the Spartan 4.6 was originally largely conceived as a "roll & play" boat (and there is a minimalistic "roll&play" version) to practice and enjoy the rich repertoire of traditional Greenland maneuvers. Then the boat showed its seaworthiness and that it could shine as a day boat and I would say that most Spartans out of there are actually functioning in this role. That does not mean it does not perform brilliantly as a rolling qajaq. As the video below should show, in the right hands (not mine!), it is quite the opposite.



How has it been paddling the Spartan for me? As a certified non-expert, my opinion is not terribly relevant, but anyway: it has been a true delight. I find it light, quick to accelerate, capable to sustain typical cruising speeds with little effort, remarkably unaffected by the wind and straight-tracking (I suppose the integrated skeg in its keel line has something to do with these two features), yet very easy to maneuver. So far, in the moderate conditions I've had it out it has always been a joy to paddle it.



Note: As usual photos not by me (nor the videos). Authors of the pics, if I recall correctly, are Javier (from Salamanca), César, and another Javier.

viernes, 20 de febrero de 2009

Paddling

There have been several fun days out paddling with friends. Each outing has been interesting for its own reasons. Valdecañas included one night out camping. It provided nice landscape, lunch in the ruins of a Roman temple, abundant and varied birdlife (cranes, geese, diverse ducks,vultures...) and an otter, which only Xabier saw (sort of fitting, as he was in his baidarka). Oh, it also included a late algae bloom which had us paddling in algae soup for substantial stretches. I could have done without that.

Denia was my introduction to a section of the Mediterranean coast that was surprisingly beautiful. Tall cliffs dotted with caves, clear water, and landmarks such Cabo de La Nao, easternmost point of Spain. El Burguillo was a nice day out with friends which the snow (we have had lots of it this winter, at least for our standards...) and the clear day made particularly beautiful.

As always, others took the pictures shown below.

lunes, 19 de enero de 2009

Fooling around

















While I wait for the wood and for the weather to mellow enough to allow extended stays in my unheated workspace, I cannot help it and play around with various software and sets of measurements.

Among other things, I've been taking a look at the location (theoretical!) of the centers of buoyancy and gravity, deciding the location of the forms and producing ideal distributions of deck beams and ribs on the gunwales. I've ended up with 10 beams + masik, which happens to be what Brian Schulz of Cape Falcon Kayak used for his semi-replica of this same boat. Ribs have come up to 19. Which is more than Brian's numbers (but, from the pics, I'd guess he used wider ribs), but two less than the 21 (of the same dimensions as I intend mine to be) that Paco García put on his latest qajaq (whose gunwales are some 0'65 cm longer than mine will be). So, it seems about right, doesn't it?

I know all of this may be a bit heretical and run quite against the spirit of Skin-On-Frame construction, where you abjure plans and patterns, because "the process is the pattern" and all that. But I tell to myself that, after all, the very idea of building a semi-replica is probably abandoning "the path" anyway. So a bit of additional heterodoxy...

Truth is probably that it simply beats just waiting...

miércoles, 19 de noviembre de 2008

Firsts VII: Iqyax


As previously stated, I'm fortunate with my paddling friends. As also said, one of the reasons, by no means the only or major one, is that they build great SOF kayaks and I get to try them. The latest instance of that is an Aleutian baidarka that Xabier launched a week or so ago. His fourth SOF boat since March, by the way. He's a fast, possibly compulsive builder, I tell you.

So we went back to Cazalegas, the reservoir where Xabier's first Greenland qajaq also made her maiden voyage. Same place, but the weather today was much nicer and the public this time was reduced to just me. Another difference was that birds were by no means as plentiful. However, the marsh harriers that accompanied us in the previous visit were around again.


Aleutian baidarkas seem to be shrouded in some kind of mystique. Certainly, they have quite unique looks. They are long and skinny and have bifid bows (shared with some other Alaskan kayaks, by the way) and distinctive sterns. They are also supposed to be very fast, almost mysteriously so. Nonetheless, for some reason I have never been part of the baidarka cult. I like them, sure, and find them attractive, but regard them as "just" another great traditional kayak among a good bunch of them.

However, now I have had direct contact with one and, when experienced live, the boat has a definite imposing presence that pictures had failed to convey for me. At 5,70 m long, she comes out as a kayak of obvious substance. The 48 cm beam in no way diminishes this impression. Actually, it somehow seems to accentuate it. Plus, of course, for a not very skilled paddler like myself, such a narrow boat introduces an initial element of, let's say, respect. You know, when you cannot help but keep wondering for how long you will stay upright on that thing.


Well, as it turned out, for quite long. Surprise, surprise (at least for me): it is stable. Almost incredibly so. You can heel her quite a bit (more than the pics show and without bracing) and the feeling is always reassuringly solid. It may have to do with Xabier's lowering of the keelson's height and the consequently flatter hull. Whatever the reason, we both felt perfectly comfortable paddling her in almost no time. It is also fast, but with such a boat that's expected, almost a given.

Xabier's thinks he built more rocker into her than would be typical for a baidarka. After looking at some line drawings and pictures of other replicas I'm not sure if I see much of a difference there. In any case, the balance between tracking and maneuverability he's achieved seems a good one. She tracks well, but is still quite responsive to leans and, for a boat of her size, actually felt quite agile to me.

Xabier has definitely departed from the baidarka canon in the aft deck. Typically, it would be peaked as the foredeck and about flush with it. The cockpit would be, consequently, horizontal. Xabier has opted for a common modification in modern baidarka semi-replicas and has built a lower, flat deck aft of a now slanted cockpit. At the very least, this change makes entering and exiting the boat easier or, depending on your flexibility, even just possible. It may also help with some rolls.

All in all, I absolutely enjoyed the experience. It felt a really good boat, at least for the flat water conditions we had. The real test will be the ocean, of course, but, although going purely on gut feeling here, I sort of think she will behave well there too.

I had a fabulous time.

domingo, 16 de noviembre de 2008

Virtual Gunwales (Building I)


The consequences of trying to build a semi-replica as first qajaq are becoming quickly apparent. I haven't touched a piece of wood yet, I haven't even gone beyond locating lumberyards and wood stores in the vicinity, and I am already pondering issues somewhat worriedly. For now, I mostly fret about the gunwales.

For a Greenland qajaq to obtain her sheer line, her gunwales cannot be just two long rectangular prisms. They need some amount of shaping. In fact, the precise amount that combines with their flare angle, spreading at roughly the center, joining at the ends and pinching at strategic locations to produce the desired line. The qajaq-building books provide clear, easy to follow indications so you end up with gunwales just right for the boat they help you build. Obviously, that boat is not the one I want. As I already said, I want ("I need" may actually be more accurate) to reproduce, a particular, individual qajaq. One, of course, whose sheer looks significantly different to me.


Enter FreeShip. I put my hopes to solve the gunwale shape problem on this piece of software. With it, I constructed a 3d model of DNM Lc. 43, traced the gunwales' outline on it, pretended the resulting shapes were plywood panels and then politely asked the program to unfold them for me. This proceeded without a problem and I obtained the figure on the image below (click on it, please). This is supposed to be the flat-plate tracing of Lc 43's gunwales. The shape the two long pieces of wood need to be so that when I bend, spread, join and variously manipulate them they will create the attractive sheer line I've come to love.


My main problem is one of trust. I would greatly appreciate some kind of reassurance that the form provided by my operations is actually the one that will correctly build the boat before I blissfully start trying to reproduce it in wood. Keep in mind this is the first time I do this whole thing. What I've got seems plausible, but, with my lack of experience, I'm not sure how much of a judge I can be. If I am wrong, the consequences would be quite annoying. Hence, this is a leap of faith I am finding a bit hard to take. Seems time to start asking around.

And I haven't even really started yet.

martes, 11 de noviembre de 2008

Amour Fou


I am going to start building a traditional SOF qajaq in the more or less immediate future.

No surprise here, I guess. I suppose that, deep inside, I have known for quite a while I would eventually end up doing it and I believe friends and relatives sort of knew it as well. Well, now I've gone public and it's official. Well, sort of...

Upon reflection, I'd say the junction of several circumstances has acted as catalyst. The great time I had on Alfonso's, "Greenlander from Murcia", Xabier's happy churning out of boat after boat, the extremely useful and didactic SOF construction blog by Paco, buying Harvey Golden's "Kayaks of Greenland" and the consequent repeated exposure to the many beautiful qajaqs in that wonderful book, the, in all likelihood unjustified, self-confidence boost in my woodworking abilities brought about by my carving of two Greenland paddles, etc... Alternatively, you could just say the time was ripe.
However, I'm ignoring all that good sense would recommend for a first-time boat-builder and I am not going to follow any of the trusty books that have repeatedly enabled even guys like me (I want to believe at least *some* would have been be like me when it comes to lack of skill, wouldn't they?) to build nice, serviceable Greenland-style qajaqs. Instead, I'm building a semi-replica.

It's not that I'm trying to skip homework: I own and have read Morris, Cunningham and Starr and I'm sure they will help me a lot. At least, I hope so as I am certainly going to need help. Lots of it. And, yes, some of you that may be reading this, you are right to be worried: I fully intend to pester you with silly, novice questions. You've been warned.

The reason for such a choice is quite simple, actually: I've fallen in love with one particularly beautiful qajaq. If I am going to try and build a qajaq it just has to be this one. No way around that. I'm just helpless. To at least some extent, I am aware of the added difficulties that going this route will entail and that they will be exacerbated by my lack of experience. I'm smart enough to realize that I'm likely bringing on myself quite a bit of additional worry, anguish and frustration. Not sensible enough to let that stop me, though. In case you were wondering, the boat is Danish National Museum Lc. 43, West Greenland 1834, KOG #31 and it has been built before. Brian Schulz of Cape Falcon Kayak, has produced a semi-replica of Lc. 43 that shows that indeed, the actual boat is truly as gorgeous as her lines suggest.


Incidentally, there is an episode of "The Sopranos" which happens to be the titled "Amour Fou". In it, Tony is introduced to the expression, which he later renders in a mispronounced yet, in a way, still quite adequate way as "our mofo".

I'd like to believe that won't apply to this whole qajaq building thing and I.


viernes, 7 de noviembre de 2008

Arousa

About almost three months ago, I spent three great days in a sort of micro-paddling expedition in Galicia. It's been a while, certainly, but the memories are still vivid and truly pleasant.

It was Xabier's idea. The Xabier who built the first SOF qajaq I ever tried, and that by now has another two Greenland style boats under his belt, a pretty much finished Aleutian baidarka that will soon hit the water plus some non-kayaks. A one-man shipyard, I tell you.

He invited some friends and, after a worrying meteo forecast scared us off a very attractive, but rather exposed stretch of the coast of Asturias, we opted for the large Arousa Inlet. Arousa offered an abundance of interesting, yet sheltered, paddling opportunities and a chance to cross to the beautiful islands at its mouth and poke our noses out into Atlantic, weather permitting.

Thus, on a fine friday afternoon, Xabier, Jesus, Carlos, Luismi and yours truly, set out with the ebb tide from right below the Towers of Catoira, an impossing fortress built on the banks of the Ulla River to guard against Viking and Saracen naval raids. A hundred km and two impromptu bivouacs later, we returned to the same spot on sunday's noon. The weather was actually much better than expected, we did reach the islands and enjoyed a truly benign Atlantic. The area is truly a paddling jewel and we had a wonderful time. It all went so well and smoothly that we decided we would go for something bigger next summer. A week or so. Plans are still a tad vague, but the intention is firm. Indeed, I've learned that both Xabier and Carlos have already purchased tents adequate for kayaking expeditions.

I really look forward to it.


Note: No cameras on this trip. The few images there area come from Carlos' cellular phone and appear here thanks to his kindness.

lunes, 18 de agosto de 2008

Qajaq & Frito


I guess I am very fortunate. I have friends that build traditional Skin-On-Frame kayaks and then invite me to paddle alongside them, show me fine paddling locations, allow me to try their boats and put up with my childish glee with a smile...

One of those friends, Alfonso, is the person who carved and lent me the first Greenland paddle I ever held and used during the II Costa Calida Kayak Meeting (which he also organized). A true key point in my kayaking. Recently, he has tackled a more ambitious project and has built a great-looking qajaq (the process is documented in the highly recommended "Groenlandeses Murcianos" blog, though only those able to read Spanish will fully enjoy it). Since the Meeting, Alfonso had offered several times to show me some of his favorite paddling spots and, finally, some ten days ago I was able to accept his generous invitation.

On a warm afternoon, Alfonso, Roberto and I paddled a remarkably beautiful part of the Segura River. Upstream first (which, at times, needed a judicious mix of muscle and wise use of eddies) and then downstream back to our put in. River paddling was great fun, requring just the right amount of attention. In fact, I enjoyed it so much, we did it again the next morning. The place was the same, but the experience wasn't, as river, light, sounds, smells had changed.

Boats changed too. The first time I paddled a Fun Run Draken, a stable, comfortable and quite fast kayak that should make a great expedition boat, but the second one I was on Alfonso's qajaq. And I simply fell in love with it. It was amazingly responsive.
It glided smoothly, accelerated quickly and carved tight turns. Mostly, it just allowed a degree of precise control I had not felt before and I had a wonderful time. I now dream about hard-chined boats.


And best of all was Alfonso's hospitality which went quite farther than allowing me to use his boats. He took me and threw me right in the middle of his extended family to share the good times they were having together. I certainly did. I played with the kids, talked with the adults, tasted the great local cuisine and, simply, enjoyed being there.

I told you, I am fortunate.

martes, 24 de junio de 2008

Telescopic Wood


It's hardly news that paddle extension is pretty much integral to Greenland-style paddling. To such a point, in fact, that it has been argued that one of the marks of a true Greenland paddle is that its owner should be able to securely and comfortably grip it anywhere along its length. And the extended paddle it's not just for rolls and braces. Rudder and forward propulsion strokes (e.g., the sliding stroke) take advantage of the possibilities it offers as well.


Aleutian paddles differ from Greenland ones in, among other things, being assymmetric, but they superficially resemble them as they also have long, thin blades and relatively short looms. Thus, Aleutian kayakers captured with extended paddles in old photographs may not be much of a surprise either. Most such pictures I've seen show the extensions being for braces to stabilize two- or three-seat craft. Most, but not all, as, at least to my eyes, the paddler in the picture just below does not seem to be bracing .


Unfortunately, our knowledge of Aleutian paddling practices is sorely lacking in many areas (we are not even sure if they rolled their boats, remember?) and I have not come across anything about the spread, functions etc... of paddle extension in this kayaking tradition (I'd greatly appreciate any pointers, by the way). We just seem to have little more than a few images that are difficult to understand adequately.


That is also the case, even to a greater extent, for other native Arctic kayakers. Old pictures show that, at least occasionally, they held their paddles by their blades. Even though those blades were wider than Greenlandic or Aleut ones, as in the case of paddlers from the Noatak area in North Alaska (look at paddlers on the left in the picture above) or from the Mackenzie Delta (below).


Their with would suggest that, unlike Greenland paddles, full paddle extension was not a design requirement for North Alaska or Mackenzie Delta blades. It seems safe to hypothesize they did not routinely use a full sliding stroke in those areas, but detailed questions would probably require the kind of information that only a live kayaking tradition can provide. We are lucky that kayaking remained alive (if barely) in Greenland, but from what we have learned from there we can perhaps begin to guess what we might have missed from the extinction of traditional kayaking almost everywhere else.

jueves, 22 de mayo de 2008

Firsts V: Qajaq


It's been over two months since another of those first times that still seem to remain reasonably frequent in my paddling. Thanks to the kindness of Xabier, boat-builder extraordinaire and fellow inland paddler and Kayak de Mar forumite, I had the chance to paddle a beautiful (see the pics, don't just take my word for it) Skin-On-Frame, West Greenland style qajaq that he had just finished.

The qajaq's maiden voyage took place in Cazalegas, a nice, not too distant reservoir (which I was also visiting for the first time) which proved quite interesting in the bird-watching department. The male of a couple of Marsh Harriers seemed to take interest in us and stayed nearby for good chunks of the outing and in the groves at the reservoir's tail the group, i.e., Xabier, Juan Antonio (whose photographs illustrate this entry), Jesús and I saw Night and Purple Herons.

It was a bright, if somewhat windy morning when we departed from near the dam. The wind kept increasing as we paddled, bringing clouds and stirring a substantial chop. Following wind and following chop, I guess you could say as they both came straight from our sterns. When after somewhat over 6 km, we reached the end of one of the reservoir's tails, Xabier and I switched boats and I entered for the first time a SOF kayak to paddle her on the return leg of the trip.

I was surprised by how solid and robust she felt. I had abundantly read and heard that SOFs were not fragile, quite the contrary actually, but for some reason it hadn't really clicked in my mind. Well, it has now. My first thought was a pleased confirmation of how well my Greenland paddle went with the boat, but that was quickly superseded by the first hand experience of what a deep V hull does to initial stability (pretty much killing it, if I trust my first impression), but also of how secondary stability quickly comes to the rescue.

And as soon as I had the boat moving, sensations completely changed. It suddenly felt very stable and hardly tilted at all. By now the wind blowing straight against us was quite strong, to the delight of some windsurfers that had suddenly appeared. We had to work to make progress. The qajaq kept her course as if on rails, but responded well to moderate edging. It also was a great opportunity to verify that, yeah, a totally flat deck means a rather wet ride even if all you are pinching is shortish lake chop.

I enormously enjoyed those 6 km back to the put in and I think that, had I built the boat myself, the feeling would have come dangerously close to pure bliss. I don't know yet when, but I now know that one day I will just have to build a SOF.

miércoles, 16 de abril de 2008

Poor Kayak

In an old entry I hinted about traditional inflatable paddling. It seems it just doesn't stop there. Apparently, folders and Sit-On-Tops were known in the Arctic too. The kayakluk, or poor kayak, from Povungnituk (north-eastern Hudson Bay) happened to be both at once.

The kayakluk was retrieval craft for ice-edge hunting. About 1.8 m long, 0.8 m wide and 38 cm deep, it was made with the old skins from a normal kayak and lacked a rigid interior frame. It was carried folded on the hunter's back and, once on the ice edge, it was filled up with snow and the thongs on its upper part were tightened. The paddler sat on top with legs stretched and employed a short paddle. According to its users, the poor kayak's main advantages were light weight and ease of transport. It seems that carrying a normal kayak on a sled often damaged its skin.

It does look like a moccasin, doesn't it?

sábado, 12 de abril de 2008

Firsts IV: Paatit


Among the nice new experiences that Easter in Ortigueira (see previous entry) delivered, I must confess I was particularly touched by the fact that my Greenland paddle, made with my very own hands (pretty much the first thing I've ever built) actually performed very well at propelling my kayak. As already confessed, I rapidly felt very much at ease using it and by the end of the trip I was simply loving it.

Since then, it has seen water (fresh, this time) once again. Another windy day, even more so than the first one and, hence, another chance to appreciate what it can do for you in such conditions. And to become totally addicted to the absolutely silent stroke you can achieve with it and the much valued chances to come close to wildlife that it provides. Oh, for some 5 km of that outing and thanks to the kindness of Xabier, its builder, I could match my paatit with a Greenland-style SOF kayak on the return leg of its maiden voyage (another "first" to ramble upon in the near future). Lovely

The stick (obeche wood = ayous = samba and a few other names) has ended up 234 cm long and 7.8 cm wide for a weight of 850 gr. I'm absurdly fond of it.

viernes, 4 de abril de 2008

Firsts III: Ortigueira

Note: The pictures below were taken by Luis, from Ponferrada, who kindly allowed me to use them.

Easter 2008 brought a diversity of fresh kayaking experiences of the good (very good, actually) kind packed in four days spent in the Santa Marta de Ortigueira area in Galicia, northwestern Spain.

I met new fellow kayakers, making what I hope will become new friends, and got first hand contact with the AGKM (Asociación Galega de Kaiak de Mar), an interesting and promising initiative in the national sea kayaking scene. My recently finished first Greenland paddle got its first use in saltwater. For the first time, I could lay my hands on SOF boats, a Greenland-style kayak made by one of my woodworking gurus, Paco García, and an Aran currach that travelled all the way from Barcelona, and I paddled in new, very nice places.


Under AGKM's gentle wing, what initially was to be just a gathering of friends at Ortigueira, quickly and spontaneously grew into something quite large that included semi-strangers like me, a surf-kayak clinic, a Greenland paddle-making workshop and Greenland ropes. In spite of this, the event very purposefully stuck to its original informal nature and a "We are all organizers here" motto. Of course, some people actually worked while I, for example, contributed by having a jolly good time, but I believe the prevalent spirit, a sort of gently-steered anarchy, was indeed the intended one. It worked remarkably well.

It was my first kayaking exposure to our northern sea. That stretch of Atlantic Ocean that we call Mar Cantábrico (Cantabrian Sea) and others the southern end of the Bay of Biscay. It is a beautiful coast. Over most of its length, it is conveniently sprinkled with rías, river inlets that afford protected waters where guys like me can still enjoy very nice outings when conditions out there get hairy. In Galicia, the coast's western end and where we were, those inlets become even more frequent and substantial. It is also reasonably dotted by villages (often quaint and picturesque) ports where you can stop for refreshment and good food. It is truly a wonderful area for sea kayaking.


As first exposures go, it was a tad limited, though, as the weather did not fully cooperate. For me, F6-7 winds and truly big seas (4-7 m) accompanied by rain and hail squalls made paddling unappealing in the inlets and pretty much suicidal in the ocean on Saturday and Sunday. Fortunately, there was the paddle-making shop and a lovely piece of red cedar to keep me happily busy.

On Thursday, we all paddled together and poked our collective nose out of the Ortigueira inlet from the small port of Espasante. Conditions, though milder than they would become later during the weekend, were not exactly comfortable (F4-5, about 2-3 m breaking waves) for a group of mixed skill levels such as we were and we soon returned to sheltered waters. Lesson learned, next day we split according to our abilities and daring. A minority faced F5 (later 6) wind and 3-4 m waves in an excursion along the coast. Prudently, I went with the majority and the currach for a more sedate trip down the very pretty O Barqueiro inlet to the beautiful port of Bares taking the Greenland stick out for its first trip.

Bares happens to be the northernmost port in Spain and there are occasional statements that it is also the oldest one still in operation. Its megalithic jetty is often dated to the VIIIth century BCE and attributed to either Phoenician traders or, less commonly, local peoples. However, recent scholarships is critically reviewing those claims and a consensus on a roman origin may be emerging. In any case, its an intriguing and impressive structure that has formed the beach where we disembarked for a beer and a bite of something good in a nearby tavern. We returned with a helping high tide, winds increasing to the point of occasional annoyance and growing esteem and comfort with my Greenland paddle on my part. By the end of the trip, I was totally hooked on it. For a good while, I paddled near the currach watching it move against a backdrop of cliffs, woods, secluded beaches, coves and small fishing villages in the opposite shore and having just the greatests of times.

It is truly a wonderful area for sea kayaking.

jueves, 27 de marzo de 2008

Eskimo Roll III. Unangan

Be warned: this is going to be long and rambling. Keep reading at your own risk.

Thanks to Dr. Key I've read a Sea Kayaker's article by Jeff Dickrell discussing whether or not the Aleuts rolled their baidarkas (alright, their iqyax, to be precise). Obviously, clearcut evidence is lacking (there wouldn't be much to discuss otherwise, would it?). Literary references are contradictory and, in some pro-roll cases, vague or indirect. Actually, the Unangam people are not alone in this relative uncertainty regarding their rolling abilities. For example, among those reporting on Chugach paddling practices, only Kaj Birket-Smith (quoted by David Zimmerly in his very nice book Qayaq ) stated that they were able to roll their kayaks (which were called baidarka too and shared eye-catching similarities such as a bifid bow with Aleutian craft, but that, otherwise, must have handled rather differently in terms of stability, speed, etc...).

In any case, Dickrell seems to conclude that the Aleuts were in fact able to roll, but that the maneuver was not widespread. I can certainly agree with that (which, as I am no expert, is pretty irrelevant, but this is my blog after all...) and would like to perhaps add some minor evidence. Around 1840, Bishop Ivan Veniaminov (quoted again in Zimmerly's Qayaq) wrote: "Thus, today there are extremely few, if any, of the former riders who, when their boats capsized, could set them right side up by themselves or who could set... upright with a skillful motion of the oar without emerging from the baidarka"



I find it a bit surprising that this was not mentioned in Sea Kayaker as it is quite accessible and Dickrell does include other quotes from Veniaminov (a major source on Aleutian etnography in general and kayaking in particular). Certainly, that quote it's not like a videoclip of an Aleut rolling, but considering the time Bishop Veniaminov spent in American Russia and his interest and devotion towards the natives and their culture, it does carry some weight for me. Additionally, it seems to nicely fit the suggested picture of an existing, but not widely practiced roll. Moreover, it also appears to hint of a rapidly fading skill and this matches well my own speculation (idle and without base, sure) about why the Aleut roll seems to have been rare, if it existed at all.

Dickrell does some tentative theorizing on the reasons for this. In essence, he seems to suggest that a roll was not very necessary because the Aleuts rarely capsized. That they were very, very good at bracing (at paddling, in general) and that, in addition, they used rocks as ballast which both reduced the likelihood of tipping over and made rolling very difficult if, in spite of those precautions, they were overturned.


It might have been so, but, though I am clearly way out of my depth here, I can't help but wonder if that's the whole of it. For one thing, the information I've seen has left me with the impression that, after all, capsizes were not that extraordinary for the Aleuts. Accounts of hunters lost at sea do not seem uncommon and Veniaminov reported (once again, quoted in Qayaq) Aleut self-rescue techniques that relied on inflated sea-lion or seal stomachs as floats to bail out (if needed) and re-enter an overturned baidarka (it brought to my mind our own paddle-float procedures). Veniaminov states that those floats were an "indispensable" part of the baidarka's equipment. To me this tends to suggest that the Unangan might have contemplated capsizing as something one should be prepared to deal with, though, admittedly, the bladders were also used to transport water and could function as flotation bags in case of need too.

Moreover, it seems to me that capsize likelihood is not the only, maybe not even the major determinant of whether a group of native kayakers rolled or not. For example, King Island (readers of this blog might remember) and Nunivak Island kayakers who paddled rather stable craft developed roll maneuvers for their wide boats and single blade paddles. In contrast, the Mckenzie Delta Inuvialuit and the Caribou Eskimo that used some of the most unstable of all traditional kayaks (substantially more so than Aleutian baidarkas), did not roll at all (nor used ballast).


In my opinion, more factors must have come into play. Rolling is not the only response to a capsize and how likely was for a group of arctic paddlers to develop a roll and rely primarily on it rather than on alternative techniques may have depended on the whole context of kayak use. Whether the kayakers tended to operate alone or in groups, water depth, temperature and proximity to shore, the prey they hunted and the tools they used to do it (presence or not of harpoon lines that may tangle, for instance) and, possibly, a host of other circumstances were likely relevant. Thus, Mckenzie Delta and Caribou Inuit kayakers seem to have often hunted in groups and not too far from shore and rescue procedures among Caribou Inuit, as reported by E Arima (see this previous entry), seem to have often involved the help of a nearby hunting partner and transportation to shore.

In this regard and coming back to the Aleuts, it seems that European contact had a major impact on their kayaking practices. The Russian promyshlenniki, fur traders and hunters, started appearing on the area around 1743. Soon they were exploiting the natives, pretty much enslaving them and forcing the hunters to focus on catching sea otters for them. Those sea otter hunts were carried out in groups and using two-person baidarkas rather than the single-paddler one that apparently were the dominant hunting craft before the Russians' arrival. Veniaminov (once again! And once again quoted in Qayaq) wrote: "The two-hatched baidarka was always in use among the Aleuts, but only for the transfer of light freight or for the riding on the sea of an old man with a child, but even up to the present day, there has never been an instance of two young and healthy rowers of their own will riding out in hunt of the otter in a two-hatched boat. This was regarded as shameful".

In stark contrast with these words, later graphic material overwhelmingly shows two or three-person baidarkas (a Russian invention to carry cargo or a passenger) often in sizeable parties. Although possible, it is trickier to roll a double than a single and if hunting was now often done in groups, reasonably prompt assistance could be counted on. Under these new circumstances, rolling would become less useful and the incentive to invest the effort required to master it would be reduced.


In the Aleutians, the promyshlenniki and the deep and rapid changes they caused, seem to have preceded the etnographers. I wonder if, when Europeans interested in the culture and traditions of the inhabitants, and not merely in exploiting them, arrived they found an already changed society where, presumably among other things, rolling a baidarka (maybe never a popular practice) was largely a thing of the past, as Veniaminov's words seem to suggest.