Swimming the Eel River

The Eel River is on my mind this morning with many thoughts - we haven't been on it much this year - the Willits Water Festival next weekend - our upcoming trip on its wilderness stretches - and those warm sunny days kayaking it last spring.

The Outlet Creek to Dos Rios stretch of the Eel River has been described as a Class III whitewater kayaker's delight. It isn't run regularly by a lot of boaters due to its location in the northeast corner of Mendocino County and because it is primarily a rain-fed winter and early spring run (making it a foul-weather run that is often chilly). This stretch of the Eel River is quite special to me because it is where I learned to whitewater kayak (I probably should say am still learning).


Yes, my beginnings on this run were tormentous as many who were with us might recall. Fears and tears and of course lots of swimming. Jeff's patience and the strength of our relationship was definitely tested on our trips to the Eel River.


When we started running the Eel River, I was a SWIMMER (in several senses - one being that I was a life guard and water safety instructor who swam regularly for fitness and the other being that I swam most of the time when I capsized). Fortunately, I was a good swimmer and usually self-rescued by holding onto my gear and getting into an eddy and onto shore.

When we started boating on the Eel River, I had just relearned to roll. I had a decent flat water roll and was racking up combat rolls in the ocean surf and rock gardens; however, the river roll was eluding me. I hated capsizing for numerous reasons - the water was COLD, the air was COLD (problem with learning to boat in the winter), my playboat was not easy to roll, my kinesthetic senses were altered in the current, I was terrified of hitting my head on a rock, or being stuck in a hydraulic. Yeap - a TON of EXCUSES!

(I would like to say that more time on the river has cured these things, but I am sure that I will swim again on the Eel - afterall - we are all in between swims.)

My first season of boating on the Eel - I ran (swam) it twice and gave up on whitewater kayaking FOOORRREEEVVVEEER! It was too cold, too scary, and too frustrating.

I continued sea kayaking and rock gardening and then even started kayak surfing. I saw photos and videos of the beautiful waterways that people were whitewater kayaking and felt a little sad when I stayed home while Jeff and our paddling buddies went river kayaking.


In the winter of 2010, I became determined to master my fears and learn to whitewater kayak - so off to the Eel River we went. Some days we would just park and play (drill) on one rapid and others we would practice different skills while heading down river. I still managed to swim plenty; however, I rolled more than I swam. I am certain that I have swum every rapid on the Outlet Creek to Dos Rios section with the exception of Tunnel and CalTrans(Willow).

In our sessions on the Eel, I realized many of my fears - hitting my head on a rock (the helmet has a couple of scratches but I am no worse for wear -I think- and getting stuck upside-down in a hydraulic and working my way out without swimming -took 3 rolls but I did it).

The cold water is still a huge issue for me. The Eel River has some great surf waves and I so want to learn to surf, but I still prefer to keep upright in chilly fresh water. My kinesthetic sense underwater in current is improving with experience, but I still get disoriented. The Eel River has many firsts for me including my first combat river roll, my first time whitewater river kayaking without Jeff and I am excited about the prospect of my first multi-day wilderness whitewater trip. Will swimming be involved on this trip? I definitely hope so . . . when it is warm and sunny and not necessarily an out-of-boat experience.


Sorry - no photos or videos of my swimming on the Eel, but this video might show a bit of the character of whitewater kayaking on the Eel (notice the contrast between the gray days of winter and the sunny green days of spring).

Skunked

Maybe the skunk was an omen or just bad timing . . .

I've been looking forward to the Santa Cruz Paddlefest (formerly Kayak Surf Festival) since last fall when we made our 2011 calendar.

Jeff kept telling me about the magic of the Santa Cruz reef breaks. Spilling waves with great right shoulders and channels that were easy to paddle out. The attitude of Santa Cruz surfers though is world renowned so it is definitely a place to watch your P's and Q's. I was excited that the Paddlefest would give me the opportunity to paddle one of these fun breaks with minimal hassle.


We left for the contest a couple of days early to visit friends and family in the area and to get a day or two in of surfing. Our dogs, Bear and Aften, journeyed with us. Of course we left later than planned and enjoyed some lovely bay area traffic. It rained heavily for most of our drive. The rain lightened up when we reached the South Bay Area, and we stopped for beer and to let the dogs out for a stretch and pee-break in an empty parking lot.


Having had a good stretch and feeling thirsty, I called the dogs over to the truck. Aften trotted right over and I lifted her in. Instantly my nostrils were inundated with the smell of skunk. The only thing worse than your dog getting skunked is being on the road when your dog gets skunked. I too was pretty smelly. Fortunately there was a creek nearby and the grocery store was still open. I bought some vinegar and proceeded to give Aften a cold vinegar bath. It worked as well as could be expected.

At the time, I couldn't help but wonder if this was going to be an omen for our surf weekend.

Thursday, we made our way down to Santa Cruz and scoped out a couple of surf spots. It was warm and sunny with some nice surf. The peeling right handed waves were such a treat and I was a little remiss for not bringing my surf boat (I only brought my whitewater kayak due to space and because I was competing in the novice division which didn't allow high performance surf kayaks).

The weather forecast was for rain and high surf. Despite weather forecasts being consistently wrong all winter, Friday morning was as predicted - rainy and windy. Jeff was competing and my plan was to demo some boats and get a practice run in on the break that I would be surfing for the contest.


The surf was big and it was BLOWING. Quickly Plan B formulated. Dress in rain gear, watch a couple of heats, and enjoy a good book in the hotel room.

Saturday, I was to compete. I woke to the sound of the wind howling. A glance at the ocean showed whitecaps and thumping storm surf. I went to the prepaddle meeting and then looked again at the surf. Why was I here? To surf a fun break. Today looked anything but fun so I decided to scratch. It was a good decision but a hard one.


I watched what would have been my heat. Ugggg - no thanks. The wind was gusting. Most of the waves were storm chop and the main sets that came through were powerful. Hats off to the guys who paddled out there and tried to surf in our heat. They got a few foam pile rides but the green faces eluded them.


I was disappointed but wasn't totally skunked. Thursdays rides were so worth it and Jeff did well despite the conditions. Next year? We will see.

Following the Pied Piper

I missed the Golden Gate Sea Kayak Symposium (GGSKS) but as the stars aligned I had the fortune of paddling and playing with 5 of the instructors after the symposium.


Like the Pied Piper, Jeff played a sweet tune and lured several of the GGSKS instructors to our house and the magical paddling playground of the Mendocino Coast. Paul Kuthe, Dave White, Matt Nelson, and Bryan Burkhardt couldn't resist the piper's tune and came to play.


I was a little skeptical about tagging along knowing that my skill level was no where near their caliber and also not wanting to hold them up if they were looking to get some miles in and see our coast. Ahhhh - but what do these guys do for their paddling fun - ROCK GARDEN and SURF!


Our Pied Piper led us to a bouncy passage to the south of Russian Gulch and the opening of a sea tunnel that traveled under the headlands. Through this sea tunnel, we traveled to a magical playground of surge channels, pour overs, and slots.



After a journey through the milkshake room (aptly named by Bryant) we traveled to a reef break in Agate Cove. Steep 10-12 foot waves had me stepping back and watching but eventually venturing in for a little fun. The Northwest wind kicked up and made getting into and holding position to catch the wave tricky.


The guys carved this baby up and I held on for dear life, keeping my sea kayak from broaching and heading right and into the rocks.


After a lunch break, our pied piper turned out to be a business owner who had to get back for a teleconference with the accountant so we all returned to tell our tales. But being in the kayaking business, we couldn't resist a few more rides as we traveled back to our magical tunnel. The northwest wind had kicked up significantly so we stayed on the inside using the rocks as buffers from the wind and breaking waves. I surfed every wave and surge possible to help with gaining headway in the wind.


Before traveling through our magic tunnel, we rode one more pour-over. The pour-over was straightforward but holding position in the wind and current was challenging. The guys were much better at holding position than I was but were stoked to see me in there charging it and encouraged me to be patient and wait for the right wave.


Back through our tunnel, we returned to Russian Gulch, extended invitations for more play, and sped away - Matt back to Orcas Island, Dave and Paul to Portland, Bryant to Sacramento, and Jeff and I to our meeting with the accountant.


It was awesome to paddle with these guys and I look forward to paddling with them again - Lumpy Waters maybe?

Surfed

Sometimes you surf waves and sometimes you get surfed.


The Mendocino Coast has been having epically gorgeous weather. The warm sunny days with little to no wind have been very inspiring to get out and play in the water. Kayak surfing has been on my mind as I decide if I am going to enter in one of the events at the Santa Cruz Kayak Surf Festival.

I just re-outfitted my mini-mako surf kayak and was looking for a mellow surf session to test out my new outfitting and get reacquainted with its slicy edges. Tuesday, one of our river kayaking friends meandered over the to the coast and met up with us to look for surf. The swell was relatively small for this time of the year at 5-7 feet but with a 13+ second period meant that there was some power behind it.

My favorite mellow surf beach was barely breaking so we moved on. With limited time, we headed to Hare Creek. Hare Creek is a tricky spot to surf. It is a beach break that changes quickly as the tide height lowers or drops. The outside can be a thumper and the inside can be confused with reflective waves. We have enjoyed some mellow sea kayak surf sessions there as well as some quality sinus clearing surf sessions.


Jeff and Jerry headed out as I watched a couple of sets go through. I am still learning to read the surf and find that it helps to watch it from shore before heading out. Today there were definitely some thumping sets coming through but also some appealing left shoulders on the inside.

I resigned myself to the inevitable sinus clearing of Hare Creek but wanted a couple of those spilling lefts. I settled into my surf kayak and paddled out. The slicey stern, planing hull, and rails on the boat contrast greatly with the bouncy, forgiving feel of my whitewater kayak. The crisp handling of the boat combined with the sunshine and cool splash of ocean water was exhilarating. I was ready to go surf some waves.


Just as I was getting to where that peeling wave was, I saw the next set approaching. It was one of the larger ones. Where my spilling wave was became the impact zone. I paddled hard and tried to punch through the wave but it wanted to remind me that I wasn't in charge and tossed me like a rag doll. I tucked tight to the deck of my boat as it washed me about and surfed me toward shore. For a moment I thought, "Geeeezz . . . here we go again . . . another beat down session at Hare Creek."


I erased the thought and rolled up and was faced with the freight train foam pile of the next wave of the set. I dug in and sprinted at it and over it. Alright, the big set had passed it was time to ride that left shoulder.

Or try to.