Bike or Trike?
Sounds a bit like ‘trick or treat’ I guess, and you are wondering what on earth this has got to do with kayaking.
It has always struck me that there is a magic moment when you find yourself suddenly able to ride a bicycle, after many months or years of riding a tricycle. When you are on a trike, the wheels keep you upright, but when you are cycling a bike, the wheels are useless; it’s what you do with them that counts. Can you break down your actions on how to balance a bike, and turn it into a series of instructions for someone? No. You just have to hold on to them and let them learn by trial and error until that magic moment arrives, and they are off on their own. So it is with kayaking: beginners use the stability of the kayak to keep them upright, and use their paddles solely to move the boat. If they are about to tip over, they let go their paddles and put out their hands, as if to break their fall, and in they go! So when you start kayaking, it’s like riding a trike. What you really want to do, is ‘ride the bike’.
Beginners have to start in a kayak that has good intrinsic stability, like a trike, because we want them to enjoy the experience, and not get cold and wet. I’m totally against the immersion approach for introducing anyone to kayaking on their first day. I suggest choose a warm, sunny (optional) day, with little or no wind, in a sheltered spot, and just let them enjoy themselves – the capsize drill comes later. And don’t stick a spray deck on. Make sure they are loosely attached to the boat - not squeezed in - so that they can slip out easily if they fall over, which they shouldn’t.
What next? Well, we want to get into ‘bike’ mode. We want them to use their paddles, not their hands, to balance. We want them to lose their reliance on the stability of the boat, and start relying on their paddles. But how to do that? There I’m not quite so sure, to be honest. I rarely teach people to kayak, and was last an instructor in 1968 and 1969, at Rowardennan Youth Hostel, for a summer job – no certificates then for sure. “Can you paddle a kayak?”
“Yup”
“Can you speak English?”
“Yup”
“Are you fit and well?”
“Yup”
“The job’s yours”
I exaggerate a bit for effect. They wanted to know my experience of course: five years of kayaking, a serious Life Saving Certificate, a strong swimmer, and a student at University. So, their judgement was perfectly OK – I think. What magical times these were. My mother said she had never seen anyone look so fit and well when I returned home from two months of taking beginners kayaking on Loch Lomond. She was right.
Back to the plot. What about taking the kayaker into the realms of bike world, rather than trike world? Basically, you are trying to teach their cerebellum how to automate the reactions of the arms to instability, to use the paddle for support, not just as a slap support, but in truth, for every paddle stroke they make. That’s a tall order, to be honest, and can take considerable time to learn. I’ve found older friends of mine can’t break through that barrier and still use their kayak rather than the paddles to stay upright.
I suggest two approaches, which can be combined. And if you can do this in a swimming pool, or warm shallow water in a sandy bay, so much the better. I’m sure you know them already:
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Simply lean over and use the flat of the paddle to push back up, over and over again, and on both sides
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Sit in a very unstable kayak and do the best you can to stay upright.
Once learned, the whole process is automated, magically. I couldn’t really describe how my paddles move through the water when I’m paddling a very unstable kayak, but I am well aware that every stroke is for balance as well as for propulsion.
What is unfortunate, is that your ability to balance declines with age. But here’s a thought: I’m sure that constant paddling in an unstable kayak helps maintain and hone your balancing skills into old age, which is handy. So keep paddling your unstable boat (if you have one) as long as you can. I’m still paddling my Nelo Scorpion… just.
One more trick, which you might enjoy doing with youngsters you are teaching about balance. Balancing involves your inner ear combined with information from your eyes. So paddling in the dead of night is more dangerous, in terms of balance. Get a strong clay flowerpot or similar. Stand on it with the ball of your foot and see how long you can balance, without putting the other foot down. Now close your eyes, and see what happens. I used to offer a fiver to the pupils I taught if they could stand on a flowerpot for longer than 30 seconds with their eyes closed. I kept my wager. The lesson? Eyes are important too.
I once paddled a racing K1 from Ardrossan to Brodick in the dark, solo, on a calm, misty night in late September. Not so easy, and not the smartest of things to do. Balance was undoubtedly more difficult – I remember it well. One child, who spotted my white hull in the reflected light from the last Cal Mac ferry, rushed into the saloon to tell her mother that there was a kayak out in the middle of the estuary in the dark. Her mother didn’t believe her: “Don’t be silly dear, just sit down now and drink your juice.”