The Monday morning Commute to Bute.

This blog has been pretty silent for a long time as my recovery from major surgical operations has been long and hard and I was unable to kayak for seven and a half months.. However, a weather window opened just when I was feeling able to try a camping trip again, my first in nearly a year! Ian, Mike and I exchanged some texts on Sunday and amazingly a trip took shape.

Mike and I commuted to Wemyss Bay rail and ferry station early on Monday morning and arranged to meet Ian in Bute where he was staying with his relatives. The Victorians sure knew how to build public buildings. The Wemyss Bay station served many of the Clyde steamers that took generations of Glaswegians "Doon the Water" for their holidays.

 That bygone age is recalled by the Norman Wilkinson posters which still adorn the station walls.

 Right on time the MV Bute arrived to carry us...

 ...over the Firth of Clyde to...

...the port of Rothesay on the island of Bute.

 A short drive to Kildavanan Bay on Bute's west coast saw us busy packing for our trip.

 It was the first camping trip of the year for each of us but amazingly we each had space to spare...

...darn, we will need to remember to bring more ballast the next time.

Although it was the end of April we decided on dry suits as the water temperature was only 7.5C and our trip would involve some crossings of the mouths of the West Kyle of Bute, Loch Fyne, the Kilbrannan Sound and the Sound of Bute.

Soon we were off on another adventure....

Assisted re-entry after a capsize with a Flat Earth kayak sail.

At the recent Flat Water Sea Kayak Symposium many of the people who did not try paddle sailing said they were put off because they feared the consequences of an accidental capsize and not being able to recover easily. Capsizes do not happen very frequently when paddle sailing and the paddle sailing groups had fewer capsizes than some of the other groups in the gusty F5 winds of the day.

I have practiced rolling with a sail (even managed some successfully!), solo re-entry and assisted re-entry and it really is not a big deal. However, practice scenarios are never that realistic so I recently took the opportunity to go for a short swim on the way back from a trip to...

...Ailsa Craig.

 A lovely little wind got up for a close reach back to the mainland, some 14km distant.

 Including circumnavigating the island, we covered a total of 33km, so we covered 19km on the way back without a break.

We made the crossing in line abreast so we could keep our eyes on each other, without turning round.

 This was the longest I had paddled since major knee surgery and my knee was absolutely killing me.

As we approached Bennane Head, about 1km off the mainland shore, the tide rate increased a little but the conditions were very benign. Certainly calm enough to get my Canon 5D mk3 out for this photo. After I put my camera away the pain in my knee was so bad I had to do something about it. I left the sail sheeted in to keep me moving, put the paddle down and put both hands behind the cockpit. I lifted my backside off the seat to stretch my sore leg. Unfortunately a little wavelet chose that moment (when I had a high centre of gravity) to come along and sploosh, I was in. I capsize frequently when surfing but this was the first time I had fallen in on a trip since 2005.

I was looking through the crystal clear green water before I could even think of where the paddle might be (at the end of a leash actually). So I bailed out. The water temperature was only 7.5C but I was wearing a drysuit with thermal protection under it. Nonetheless, it was not the ideal location to go swimming at Easter and so I started the recovery process with the kayak upside down, I let off the sail uphaul and tilted the mast back. This released the tension in the sheet (which I did not bother to uncleat). If you try to gather the boom directly to the mast, the sail fills with water like a great sea anchor. Instead I grabbed the top of the mast and started gathering the top of the leach towards it. Once I had the batten top and the mast tip in my hand I continued to gather the leach down to the boom. I then rolled the sail up and retained it with its elastic securing strap on deck.

I then rolled the kayak onto its side to prepare for a re-entry roll but I noticed the Mike (who had been paddle sailing in close formation) had dropped his sail and was preparing for an assisted re-entry. I righted the kayak then went to the stern and acted as a sea anchor so that my kayak blew away from me.

 This meant that Mike could easily approach my bow from downwind (I would not try this in surf).

Once contact was made, I swam and Mike twisted the kayaks into a T then I sank the stern to help Mike lift the bow and we both...

...twisted the kayak upside down to drain the cockpit. I have short legs and a custom bulkhead so there was not a lot of water inside anyway. If it had been rough I might not even have bothered emptying the kayak.

We now swam and twisted the kayaks parallel and bow to stern. I moved up to the cockpit and reached over with my stern hand and grabbed the nearest of Mike's cockpit lines.

I then swung my forward leg up inside the front of the cockpit and hooked my heel inside. I straightened my leg while pulling on Mike's deck line.

 This brought me out of the water and allowed me to grab Mike's deckline with the other hand.
.

I continued to roll over onto my front, lying on my back deck and keeping as low as possible while I got my other leg in.

 Now I rolled back the other way, sliding into the cockpit as I did so and...

 ...got my backside into the seat as soon as possible before...

  ...attaching the spraydeck,...

 ...grabbing the paddle and giving Mike a good push off.

 A couple of quick paddle strokes help reduce the apparent wind.

 Then I hoisted the sail and...

 ...paddle sailed the final kilometre back to...

...shore as if nothing had happened.

From falling in to getting the sail back up again was 3.5 minutes but most of that time I was in the kayak. The arrow points to the capsize. The SW going tide took us SW against the opposing SW wind.

So a capsize when paddle sailing is nothing to be bothered about. There are a number of lessons:

• It is very easy to to get separated while paddle sailing so stay close, preferably in a line abreast.
  
• Agree a working channel before the trip. We all had our VHFs on channels 16/72 dual watch and if necessary I could have called Mike or Phil on channel 72.
  
• Although it was a sunny spring day, the water in the Firth of Cl;yde is at its coldest (7.5) in April. I was wearing a Kokatat Expedition dry suit with Fourth Element Xerotherm insulation under it. I did not get cold but if I had, I carried pogies and a neoprene hood in my forward day hatch.
  
• I did not lose anything. My specs had a retaining loop and my hat had a chin strap. My 5D Mk3 camera remained bone dry in its deck mounted Ortlieb Aquacam large camera bag.
  
• When in the water, don't bother trying to release the sheet, it will loosen automatically when the uphaul is uncleated. I like cleats without a fairlead like this:
  

One tug and the line is released. If you have a cleat with a fairlead, you might find it recleats as the line runs out through the fairlead.

• When in the water don't attempt to fold the boom directly to the mast, it will catch a lot of heavy water, gather the leach gradually from the mast tip to the batten then the boom.
  
• Otherwise it is a standard T recovery apart from the person re-entering going to the stern of his/her boat and being proactive in manouvering his/her kayak. (At the recent symposium I observed a number of assisted re-entries and was surprised by the number of people who make a beeline for the "rescuer's" bow then hang on to it as if they were copulating with it. This is neither a pretty sight nor a particularly effective strategy for a rapid re-entry!)
  
• We have practiced re-entries, otherwise it may have taken longer.
  
• Anyone can do this. I am in my seventh decade and until a month ago was laid up for seven months after major knee and ankle surgery, so I am hardly an athlete.
  
• The bottom line is, do not let fear of a capsize put you off paddle sailing. With a couple of minor modifications, standard kayak re-entry methods work just fine.
  
• In practice, when paddle sailing (at least for those of you who keep a hold of your paddle), the extra speed generates a huge amount of lift from a low brace and so you are very unlikely to capsize!

Have fun :o)

Dr John Tolmie.

My long term friend, climbing partner, and work colleague Dr John Tolmie died in a tragic accident while climbing on Ben Nevis on Saturday 29th March. The funeral will be held tomorrow. I cannot imagine the sense of loss that his partner Cheryl and four sons, Nicholas, Matthew, Christopher and Adam, and his other relatives must be feeling.  I send my sincerest condolences to them.

John was one of the most considerate and exceptional people I have ever met. The clinical genetics department was a particularly happy place to work and John's good nature played a big part in making it like that. Although John was a geneticist he would still have made an outstanding doctor, whatever speciality he had chosen. He was the type of doctor a doctor would choose to go to. As a clinical geneticist, John was only too aware of the unpredictability of human life, which can often be so unexpected and challenging. Accidents happen in all aspects of life.  Sometimes it is hard making sense of it all but whatever happens, it is life and no matter what has happened in the past, it can also throw unexpected good things at us in the future. When their grief subsides, I wish John's family future happiness and great fondness in remembering the great times they shared with him.

I would like to take a moment or two to remember some of the times John and I shared together. We met in the genetics department at the University of Glasgow in 1975. We hit it off straight away and soon discovered our common interest in climbing. John and I never climbed particularly hard routes but we climbed together over the decades until our last climb together on the 19th of April 2003. You get to know a person's strengths and weaknesses when you go climbing with them and it was always a real pleasure to spend time with John. Unlike most climbing pairings, where there is a leader and a second, John and I had such similar approaches to climbing that we shared being leader. It was a true climbing partnership and we never argued. John was a very thoughtful and graceful climber. He seemed to glide his way up a climb, unlike me who huffed and puffed my way up.

At the same time that we were climbing, John and I were also training in different hospitals. We met at a medical meeting in London and afterwards decided to go to an Indian restaurant. It was the only occasion I ever saw John slightly rattled. London Indian restaurants serve a very different menu to those in Glasgow and we both ordered unfamiliar dishes. John fancied the duck dish but we smelled it long before it arrived at the table. John's plate of Bombay Duck consisted of slivers of salted, dried and long matured and particularly pungent fish, which had clearly not swum for a long time. John called the very polite waiter over.

"I am afraid there has been some mistake with my order, I ordered duck and this is not duck."

"Sir, it is most certainly duck, this is the finest of Bombay ducks."

"Well you will need to take it away, I can't eat it. As far as I am concerned, this is neither fish nor fowl!"

John and I shared many a laugh in the hills but very often at the top of a climb we would tell each other the "neither fish nor fowl" story and our laughter would echo round the mountains.

The first time my knee dislocated when climbing with John was on Integrity on Sron na Ciche in Coire Lagan in the Cuillin mountains of Skye about 2000. I managed to complete the climb but afterwards we dropped a grade or two on our outings. John never complained. On one memorable outing to the Great Ridge of Beinn Garbh in Ardgour there was a total eclipse of the sun when we were at the first belay. We chatted in the near total darkness and exchanged thoughts on our great love and appreciation of the mountains and climbing. On our last climb together we scrambled up the NW ridge of Bruach na Frithe in the Cuillin then went on to climb Naismith's route on the Basteir Tooth. Although it is an easy climb my knee dislocated twice. I had a long and painful descent. John patiently stayed with me and helped me down as the other members of our group descended ahead. It was long after dark that John and I got down and we both knew my climbing days were over.

Any time I passed John's door at work after that, we would exchange stories about his climbing trips and my trips in my new sport of sea kayaking. When I retired in 20011 John wrote in my card " When we are both retired and your knees are fixed we'll go climbing in the Cuillin again."

John, I don't know when it will be but our spirits will climb together in the Cuillin again...

John at the top of forty Foot Corner, NE buttress, Ben Nevis.

 First pitch Agag's Groove, Rannoch Wall, Buachaille Etive Mor, Glen Coe.

 Top pitch Agag's Groove.

 Traversing from the top of Rannoch Wall to descend Curved Ridge, Buchaille Etive Mor.

 Early morning start for Cir Mor, Glen Rosa Arran.

 Sou'wester Slabs, Cir Mor.

 Top of  Sou'wester Slabs.

 Arrow Route, Coire Lagan, Skye.

 Top of Arrow Route, John scouting the line of Integrity above. The Cioch, Coire Lagan, Skye.

 Ardverikie Wall, Binnein Shuas, Glen Spean.

 Fifth pitch Ardverikie Wall.

 Collie's Route, Coire Lagan, Skye.

 Eastern Buttress Direct, Coire Lagan, Skye.

 Pondering the route.

 Final wall Eastern Buttress Direct.

Myself and John, Loch Lagan Skye. Taken by my daughter Jennifer (who used to babysit for John before she insisted on coming with us!)

 John and friends Glen Rosa Arran.

Caliban's creep, Cir Mor, Arran.

John and friends setting off for the NW ridge of Bruach na Frithe Skye on our last climb together on Naismith's Route on Am Bastier, 19/4/2003.

John, thank you for so many happy days.

Paddle sailing in Scottish Paddler

Scottish Paddler, the magazine of the Scottish Canoe Association arrived today. The front cover was taken last winter off the Heads of Ayr. It is looking south to Ailsa Craig with Phil in his P&H Quest and Flat Earth kayak sail in the foreground. We did not land at Ayr until well after dark. Kayak paddle sailing is definitely getting a higher profile here in Scotland. I had provided several alternative action paddle sailing photos but clearly this one caught the editor's eye.