The past week has been pretty eventful, in terms of my kayak fishing experience. Fish, fish, and more fish, along with a drysuit and a huli.
First, fish fish.
Last Wednesday I headed out to Pacific City/Cape Kiwanda to try my hand at ocean fishing once again. Now that I have been out and about on the water (the first trip being the uneventful one with Wali), I decided to give it another go. I was hoping for some company in the form of other kayakers, but no one was up for a Wednesday morning jaunt. So I went out alone. Which sounds ominous, but I made sure that I left a float plan and a specific check in time at home, and PC is dory city – there seems to always be a dory in the water near by. The added security of a VHF radio and knowing that I wasn’t going out farther than the haystack rock just offshore made it that much safer, in my mind.
I managed to get down to PC at about 7:30. I had packed most of the necessary gear in the car the night before, and so I just had to grab a few things on the way out the door. It is amazing how smooth a launch can go when things are in place. I actually did not forget anything – which is amazing given how distracted I can get.
I parked the car at the north end of the beach, next to a bunch of trucks with dory trailers. Tide was on the way out, and so I would have a nice outbound current to help with the launch. The car almost got bogged down in the sand, and I realized that my rear wheels were just at the high tide mark.
I geared up, turned the radio on, and poured water into the sonar transducer cup inside the hull. The fishfinder that I use, a Lowrance/Eagle 350, has a small sonar transducer that either needs to be firmly in contact with the hull of the boat, in the water, or, as many kayakers before me have found, will work if in a foam “puck” with water at the bottom. I used marine Goop to attach the foam to the inside of my kayak, and unfortunately, I was unsuccessful at making it hold water. Oh well, no worries, fish finders are not a necessary thing.
I dragged the kayak down to the water’s edge, and then walked it out to knee deep – the outgoing tide and small swell size made for an easy, smooth launch. I paddled out a bit, dropped the drive in, and headed towards the haystack. About 300 yards out I stopped to set all of the gear up. I had brought along a level wind reel and casting rod combo that I used for the first time on the trip out with Wali, and realized as I was threading the line through the eyelets that there was something wrong with the reel. It would freespool fine, but clicking off the freespool into retrieve showed me two things. One, the drag wasn’t working, and two, the retrieve wasn’t working correctly. For those of you who are keeping track, 1=0. I had brought along a second rod to rig up alternate gear like a Sabiki herring jig or larger single jigs. It turns out that it would be the only rod I would use, so it got the triple – two shrimpflies on dropper loops with a 3oz jig head at the end. I decided to use a dark brown/blue colored 6” swimbait , as the morning was overcast. Dark lures on dark days.
I settled into a spot, drifting between the haystack rock and the buoy just north of it. After a bit, I felt a bump on the line. Fish on! I reeled in, and had a minor fight with the fish, but nothing amazing. Turns out it was an “underling,” a Ling Cod that was too small to retain. The minimum retention size for a ling cod in Oregon waters is 22”. This one was probably 18”. But it was my first ling cod, and the second fish that I have caught on the boat. Off the hook, back into the water you go.
I kept drifting, and hooked up again. I brought the fish all the way to the boat, and saw that it was another underling. Away with thee, small fish!
I moved a bit closer to the buoy, and realized there was a sea lion in the water close by, as well as one up on the buoy. The one in the water was spyhopping me – popping up from the surface about 30 yards away, eyeballing me. Neat, and a little unnerving. Sea lions are known to get aggressive/playful with kayaks, and I really was hoping that it wouldn’t with me.
Another bump, and fish on! This one was bigger, and pulled harder. I reeled it up to the surface, and brought a toad of a Cabezone onboard. It was a good 22 inches, and heavy. Definite keeper. Onto the stringer, and stringer into the rear tankwell. The first keeper fish on the kayak. Hooray!
Drifitng back and forth between the buoy and the haystack, I snagged up a few times, and then dragged up a black rockfish. Nice. Second fish on the stringer, and in the first hour or so of fishing.
I sort of just sat around for the next 30 or so minutes, and watched as a dory came in and passed by. I had the line out and rod in a holder, just sort of sitting around. Right as I turn to wave at the passing dory, I here the reel on going crazy, spitting out line. Grab the rod out of the holder and start pumping and reeling. Big fish. Strong fish. Strong enough to strip line while I am reeling, and strong enough to move the kayak. I pump and reel, and bring a 30+ inch Ling to the surface. OMG. Awesome. Now I need to get it in the boat. I try netting it. Net is too small. I have a gaff. I’ll use the gaff.
Now, a little bit about conservation of resources and fishing. While I am not a fan of Catch and Release (CNR) for sportfishing, I understand it. If you catch something too small to keep, throw it back gently and hope it survives to get bigger. I don’t practice CNR for fun – I don’t think that putting a fish through the trauma of being hooked is necessary. With conservation in mind, let us consider the Ling Cod. Minimum size for retention of a Ling Cod is 22”. Which means that all of the small juveniles get tossed back. Lings can get in upwards of 60”. Most of the fish/marine biologists/ fish nerds that I have talked to about lings say that the ones that get that big tend to be females. Over 36”, most likely a female. Bigger fish tend to be older fish, and also tend to be wormier fish (you know, parasitic worms). So retaining a large female will potentially impact the overall breeding stock.
So there I am sitting with the fish on the hook, and a gaff in hand. If I knew that I was going to retain the fish, I would have slipped the gaff up under its gillplate. Which can be pretty damaging to the fish. Since I wasn’t sure I was going to keep the fish to start with, I hesitated, and put the gaff hook through the upper lip. Much less damage to the fish. Also much harder to retain.
All of this thought process probably took a second.
And then I had a 30+” angry Ling cod in my lap. I know it was at least 30 inches, as it was at least ¾ the length of my outstretched leg. It had managed to spit the hook right as it got into my lap, and in the frenzy of trying to keep the shrimp flies and jig head from stabbing me, I let up on the gaff a little bit. And the Ling took advantage of that, slipping off of the gaff, and giving me a couple of good whacks with its tail before flipping out of the boat.
The biggest one is always the one that got away. It was a brief, exhilarating feeling. A tiny bit frustrating, as I did not have a chance to measure the fish, but I have a feeling I would have tossed it back. Next time, Lingzilla.
Shortly there after I scooted around to the west face of the haystack, and managed to bring in another largish cabezon and another black rockfish. And then I drifted back over to the haystack. At about 1pm I decided to call it quits. I dropped the line in one more time, and reeled up a nice fat black rock. And headed in. My approach was easy, the landing was easy, and I was satisfied.
More to come soon, as I went out this past Sunday.
M.Yng
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Not from a kayak, downtime
I haven’t been able to take my kayak out at all over the past two weeks. Between what I do for work, 100+ degree weather and an uncooperative ocean on the days when I am free, fishing from the kayak hasn’t been happening.
Of course, before the heatwave rolled in last week and before I went off on a work related retreat, I went out on an albacore tuna charter with the F.V. Siamez through Depot Bay Tradewinds.
So the seas were kinda bumpy on the way out, and there wasn't much to see - ocean, clouds, the sky. I didn't have the camera out during any of the action, or for most of the trip - between trying to hang on, fishing, having my hands coated in saltwater and tuna gore, I really didn't think handling either my phone or my camera was all that great of an idea.
We had to go about 40 miles offshore to get to where the water was the correct temperature, and that took about four hours. Once we were out there, as soon as the lines were in, we were basically on fish. Most of the action was one at a time, but there were several points where we had doubles and triple hookups. Then things got exciting, as we had eight lines in the water at any given moment.
There were six customers fishing, and we brought in 35 fish. We would have brought in 36, but miscounted. I think the miscount was due to the shark that we reeled in - small 3 foot Blue that got tossed back.
In addition to the tuna, we got to see a few whales (Gray or Humpack - skipper said they were Humpbacks), a small pod of Orcas, a dolphin or so, and loads of different seabirds.
We finished fishing around 2pm, and started heading back in. We got back around 650pm, exhausted. I got home around 11pm that night.
Schooling Albacore are juveniles, and the biggest we brought on the boat was probably a hair under 40lbs, most were in the 15-20lb range. Depoe Bay Tradewinds has a couple of guys working their filet station that know how to get the most out of the tuna, as far as the more desirable white meat. A 15 lb fish dressed out to about 5 lbs of loin and belly meat. The rest is guts, head and spine. Like any good Asian kid, I convinced the guys to let me have a few of the heads as well. I probably could have taken all of them, but I don't have a chest freezer yet. Next time I go out, I'll make sure I have access to one.
10 lbs of meat is at the smokeshop right now - gonna can most of that, another 20 went in cans without smoke, and the remainder got frozen or grilled the next evening.
So here are the pics.
Step one, put your fish in a box.
Step two, make the deck hand open that box.
That's my fish in a Box!
Here is what 35 albacore look like lined up on a dock
Albacore are some of the most beautiful fish that I have seen. Right out of the water their backs are this amazingly vibrant blue/green. Such streamlined footballs. There is a passage right at the end of The Old Man and the Sea where Hemingway describes the amazing colors of a billfish, and then how quickly it fades. You can't put that in a can, and I doubt I have the camera skills to show that off.
FWIW, I picked up on a few things while heading out and coming back that helped me understand a little more about fishing from a kayak on the ocean. Going out on a boat bigger than 11', where I was standing up, gave me the opportunity to really watch the interaction between swell size and period, wind waves, and interacting currents. Crossing over the bar out of Depoe Bay was interesting - the bay opening is basically a big funnel, and so there were breakers that rolled in right up to under the bridge. I can see why this is potentially the most hazardous part of a trip out of Depoe Bay - it looked like you would want to time it like a surf launch to get out of the funnel in between sets.
And then once out on the ocean, just offshore, I was watching the whitecaps and swell/period. It was choppy and the period was pretty short - it all started coming together. And then we got about 10 miles out, and I could really watch the swell and period, as well as experiencing it as the boat crashed through. All the way out, at the height of fishing, the skipper had the boat riding the swell - we could watch the wave come up to use, ride the up the face (stern facing the wave), and then the wave would pass under us. There were a couple of points where we could actually watch the tuna hit the lures - a flash of blue and silver, and then the rod would go bendo.
On the way back in it was interesting to observe the speed of the swell. The boat was holding 9kts, and we would get overtaken be the swell. Again, we would ride up the face of the wave, and then it would pass under us. The speed at which it happened means that the swell itself was probably moving around 20+ knots. I had to watch carefully to see it happen, otherwise it would just feel like we were on rough oceans.
Now that I have a kayak, I can’t really see going out on a charter boat off the Oregon coast for anything less than Tuna or possibly deep water Halibut – and if I start catching nearshore halibut, then the only Charters will be for Albacore. Which means if I save my pennies, I can probably fit in two or so trips in a summer.
The weather/ocean forecast for tomorrow looks just about ideal for my skill level – similar if not calmer than the first time I went out. Hopefully I will have an awesome fishing report tomorrow afternoon.
M.Yng
Of course, before the heatwave rolled in last week and before I went off on a work related retreat, I went out on an albacore tuna charter with the F.V. Siamez through Depot Bay Tradewinds.
So the seas were kinda bumpy on the way out, and there wasn't much to see - ocean, clouds, the sky. I didn't have the camera out during any of the action, or for most of the trip - between trying to hang on, fishing, having my hands coated in saltwater and tuna gore, I really didn't think handling either my phone or my camera was all that great of an idea.
We had to go about 40 miles offshore to get to where the water was the correct temperature, and that took about four hours. Once we were out there, as soon as the lines were in, we were basically on fish. Most of the action was one at a time, but there were several points where we had doubles and triple hookups. Then things got exciting, as we had eight lines in the water at any given moment.
There were six customers fishing, and we brought in 35 fish. We would have brought in 36, but miscounted. I think the miscount was due to the shark that we reeled in - small 3 foot Blue that got tossed back.
In addition to the tuna, we got to see a few whales (Gray or Humpack - skipper said they were Humpbacks), a small pod of Orcas, a dolphin or so, and loads of different seabirds.
We finished fishing around 2pm, and started heading back in. We got back around 650pm, exhausted. I got home around 11pm that night.
Schooling Albacore are juveniles, and the biggest we brought on the boat was probably a hair under 40lbs, most were in the 15-20lb range. Depoe Bay Tradewinds has a couple of guys working their filet station that know how to get the most out of the tuna, as far as the more desirable white meat. A 15 lb fish dressed out to about 5 lbs of loin and belly meat. The rest is guts, head and spine. Like any good Asian kid, I convinced the guys to let me have a few of the heads as well. I probably could have taken all of them, but I don't have a chest freezer yet. Next time I go out, I'll make sure I have access to one.
10 lbs of meat is at the smokeshop right now - gonna can most of that, another 20 went in cans without smoke, and the remainder got frozen or grilled the next evening.
So here are the pics.
Step one, put your fish in a box.
Step two, make the deck hand open that box.
That's my fish in a Box!
Here is what 35 albacore look like lined up on a dock
Albacore are some of the most beautiful fish that I have seen. Right out of the water their backs are this amazingly vibrant blue/green. Such streamlined footballs. There is a passage right at the end of The Old Man and the Sea where Hemingway describes the amazing colors of a billfish, and then how quickly it fades. You can't put that in a can, and I doubt I have the camera skills to show that off.
FWIW, I picked up on a few things while heading out and coming back that helped me understand a little more about fishing from a kayak on the ocean. Going out on a boat bigger than 11', where I was standing up, gave me the opportunity to really watch the interaction between swell size and period, wind waves, and interacting currents. Crossing over the bar out of Depoe Bay was interesting - the bay opening is basically a big funnel, and so there were breakers that rolled in right up to under the bridge. I can see why this is potentially the most hazardous part of a trip out of Depoe Bay - it looked like you would want to time it like a surf launch to get out of the funnel in between sets.
And then once out on the ocean, just offshore, I was watching the whitecaps and swell/period. It was choppy and the period was pretty short - it all started coming together. And then we got about 10 miles out, and I could really watch the swell and period, as well as experiencing it as the boat crashed through. All the way out, at the height of fishing, the skipper had the boat riding the swell - we could watch the wave come up to use, ride the up the face (stern facing the wave), and then the wave would pass under us. There were a couple of points where we could actually watch the tuna hit the lures - a flash of blue and silver, and then the rod would go bendo.
On the way back in it was interesting to observe the speed of the swell. The boat was holding 9kts, and we would get overtaken be the swell. Again, we would ride up the face of the wave, and then it would pass under us. The speed at which it happened means that the swell itself was probably moving around 20+ knots. I had to watch carefully to see it happen, otherwise it would just feel like we were on rough oceans.
Now that I have a kayak, I can’t really see going out on a charter boat off the Oregon coast for anything less than Tuna or possibly deep water Halibut – and if I start catching nearshore halibut, then the only Charters will be for Albacore. Which means if I save my pennies, I can probably fit in two or so trips in a summer.
The weather/ocean forecast for tomorrow looks just about ideal for my skill level – similar if not calmer than the first time I went out. Hopefully I will have an awesome fishing report tomorrow afternoon.
M.Yng
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
1=0, 2=1
There is a great adage regarding equipment. You may have heard it. “The best [insert piece of equipment here] you have is the one you have on you.”
Normally I have heard this in regard to cameras. Today, I am thinking about knives.
Those of you with a little more than a passing association with me probably know that I carry a knife or so with me whenever I can. On top of having a plethora of edged and pointy objects on me, I like to keep the knives I use ridiculously sharp. I have sharpened friend’s kitchen knives under the guise of doing them a favor. Truth be told, I’m probably sharpening their knives because I have been in their kitchen at least once, and I am loathe to use a dull knife.
The best knife you have is the one on you. In this case I am thinking specifically about the knife that is strapped to my PFD. I put some thought into which knife to use for this application. It had to be a few things.
1. Immediately available. The PFD has a lashing point on the right breast, as well as adjustment straps on the shoulders and waist. After much thought, I chose to mount whatever knife I chose on the left shoulder adjustment strap, in a cross draw position with the blade edge down.
2. Low profile. In my quest to keep things simple, and to make re-entry into my kayak as easy as possible should I decide to or unwillingly take a dip, the knife cannot be too large. Smaller knives also provide for more of a safety margin – they are much easier to control.
3. Easily retained – not just by the sheath, but while in use. The best knife you have is the one you have in your hand, not the one on its way to the bottom of the ocean. Again, a knife with a small form factor is easier to manipulate.
It should go without saying that it needs to be sharp. Pointy is not entirely necessary or desirable while in the water. It should also be inexpensive enough that if I do lose it, I am not too torn up.
I already have several knives and used a couple of them to get an idea of setup and see if they would work. In keeping with the low profile and small form factor, I tried out a couple of knives that might fit the bill. First I tried my Krein Dogfish. Tom Krein is a knife maker out of Arkansas, and his Dogfish design was picked up by CRKT for mass production. The one that I have is a semi-custom – the blank was machine cut for Tom, and he ground and finished the blade. The Dogfish is one of my favorite knives – wharncliffe style blade made of S30V steel (a very high tech knife steel) with a bottle opener worked into the butt end. It is a skeletonized knife, and Tom worked the lightening cut outs so that the knife looks like a fish. The knife has a wicked, wicked edge, and it handles wonderfully. As a knife to work out the kinks of putting a knife on a PFD, this helped, but I never intended it to be a safety knife. I normally keep this one on a lanyard around my neck under my shirt.
The next one that I had laying around was one of my Strider EDs. Strider Knives Inc. is one of the premiere knife making companies in the United States. They don’t really do “production” knives in the sense that Buck, Gerber, CRKT or Kershaw do productions. Nope, Strider is a low yield shop, with the majority of their effort going towards fulfilling orders for various governmental contracts. Pretty much everyone who works for SKI is a military veteran. The lead designers for SKI are Mick Strider and Duane Dwyer. Since they are a low yield shop, and all of their knives are made from premier materials and fitted and finished by hand, they aren’t exactly inexpensive. The ED is at the bottom rung of their prices. Again, it is a skeletonized knife, and someone at SKI took that idea and made it reality. The original design of the ED incorporated lightening cut outs patterned to look like a skull or a skeleton. Again, the ED is a very basic knife with outstanding ergonomics. Made from S30V, again with the wicked edge, but this time in a spear point blade style.
I liked the ED on the vest, but even though it and the Dogfish are both very small knives, it still felt too large for any external mounting location. Since the knife has to be immediately available, there is no strapping it to the inside of the PFD.
I thought for a minute. And then remembered a knife that I owned and sold a couple of years ago.
In my never-ending quest for new and interesting bits of stuff, I stumbled across HideAway Knives (HAK). The woman who designed the HAK wanted a self defense tool that was easily manipulated and retainable without having to use grip strength. Her idea was for a ring knife, similar to a Karambit style fighting knife. The design allows for the knife hand to retain the blade while remaining free on the palmside for open hand techniques. In non-fighting terms, this allows your knife hand to remain free to grasp other things.
The HAK that I originally owned was made from Titanium and was a very aggressive “tiger claw” style. I ended up giving it away a couple of years ago, as I basically did not have a use for it (titanium has very poor edge retention).
I ended up trading one of my EDs for a newer HAK claw. The basic HAK utility design is similar in shape to a box cutter blade, and the claw adds a recurve to the blade. The recurve increases the available cutting edge without having to increase the overall length of the blade. Multiple recurves on a blade are serrations.
As a safety knife, a recurve HAK is outstanding. The knife is passively retained, the package is very small, and all you do is grasp and pull. My only concern is that the knife is made from 440c steel, which is not corrosion resistant. Of course, that is easily remedied through basic preventative maintenance, which in this case is a rinse after salt water exposure and a wipe down with Marine Tuf-Cloth.
Now, before everyone goes out and decides they want a HAK, understand a few things. First and foremost, the company that produces the HAK is effectively no longer a viable business, due to all kinds of poor business decisions and drama. I was lucky in that I am part of a larger community of knife collectors, and so I basically just put out a wanted add. You can still purchase utility HAKs from Fenix Outfitters (as well as other nifty bits).
The closest knife that I can think of that isn’t a HAK that would fulfill all of my needs in a PFD safety knife would be the Fred Perrin La Griffe or derivatives. Emerson knives makes a production version of the La Griffe, and Sypderco has produced a limited run called the “Swick.”
My HAK is specifically a safety knife. While I could use it as a utility knife, I will not. The sole reason it is on my person is as an emergency tool in life threatening situations. The idea is that it only gets used if I am in or underwater and I need to cut through something immediately. No sense in using it for utility tasks, as that would take it out of its sheath and potentially take it out of useable reach.
More later on utility knives and multi-tools.
M.Yng.
Normally I have heard this in regard to cameras. Today, I am thinking about knives.
Those of you with a little more than a passing association with me probably know that I carry a knife or so with me whenever I can. On top of having a plethora of edged and pointy objects on me, I like to keep the knives I use ridiculously sharp. I have sharpened friend’s kitchen knives under the guise of doing them a favor. Truth be told, I’m probably sharpening their knives because I have been in their kitchen at least once, and I am loathe to use a dull knife.
The best knife you have is the one on you. In this case I am thinking specifically about the knife that is strapped to my PFD. I put some thought into which knife to use for this application. It had to be a few things.
1. Immediately available. The PFD has a lashing point on the right breast, as well as adjustment straps on the shoulders and waist. After much thought, I chose to mount whatever knife I chose on the left shoulder adjustment strap, in a cross draw position with the blade edge down.
2. Low profile. In my quest to keep things simple, and to make re-entry into my kayak as easy as possible should I decide to or unwillingly take a dip, the knife cannot be too large. Smaller knives also provide for more of a safety margin – they are much easier to control.
3. Easily retained – not just by the sheath, but while in use. The best knife you have is the one you have in your hand, not the one on its way to the bottom of the ocean. Again, a knife with a small form factor is easier to manipulate.
It should go without saying that it needs to be sharp. Pointy is not entirely necessary or desirable while in the water. It should also be inexpensive enough that if I do lose it, I am not too torn up.
I already have several knives and used a couple of them to get an idea of setup and see if they would work. In keeping with the low profile and small form factor, I tried out a couple of knives that might fit the bill. First I tried my Krein Dogfish. Tom Krein is a knife maker out of Arkansas, and his Dogfish design was picked up by CRKT for mass production. The one that I have is a semi-custom – the blank was machine cut for Tom, and he ground and finished the blade. The Dogfish is one of my favorite knives – wharncliffe style blade made of S30V steel (a very high tech knife steel) with a bottle opener worked into the butt end. It is a skeletonized knife, and Tom worked the lightening cut outs so that the knife looks like a fish. The knife has a wicked, wicked edge, and it handles wonderfully. As a knife to work out the kinks of putting a knife on a PFD, this helped, but I never intended it to be a safety knife. I normally keep this one on a lanyard around my neck under my shirt.
The next one that I had laying around was one of my Strider EDs. Strider Knives Inc. is one of the premiere knife making companies in the United States. They don’t really do “production” knives in the sense that Buck, Gerber, CRKT or Kershaw do productions. Nope, Strider is a low yield shop, with the majority of their effort going towards fulfilling orders for various governmental contracts. Pretty much everyone who works for SKI is a military veteran. The lead designers for SKI are Mick Strider and Duane Dwyer. Since they are a low yield shop, and all of their knives are made from premier materials and fitted and finished by hand, they aren’t exactly inexpensive. The ED is at the bottom rung of their prices. Again, it is a skeletonized knife, and someone at SKI took that idea and made it reality. The original design of the ED incorporated lightening cut outs patterned to look like a skull or a skeleton. Again, the ED is a very basic knife with outstanding ergonomics. Made from S30V, again with the wicked edge, but this time in a spear point blade style.
I liked the ED on the vest, but even though it and the Dogfish are both very small knives, it still felt too large for any external mounting location. Since the knife has to be immediately available, there is no strapping it to the inside of the PFD.
I thought for a minute. And then remembered a knife that I owned and sold a couple of years ago.
In my never-ending quest for new and interesting bits of stuff, I stumbled across HideAway Knives (HAK). The woman who designed the HAK wanted a self defense tool that was easily manipulated and retainable without having to use grip strength. Her idea was for a ring knife, similar to a Karambit style fighting knife. The design allows for the knife hand to retain the blade while remaining free on the palmside for open hand techniques. In non-fighting terms, this allows your knife hand to remain free to grasp other things.
The HAK that I originally owned was made from Titanium and was a very aggressive “tiger claw” style. I ended up giving it away a couple of years ago, as I basically did not have a use for it (titanium has very poor edge retention).
I ended up trading one of my EDs for a newer HAK claw. The basic HAK utility design is similar in shape to a box cutter blade, and the claw adds a recurve to the blade. The recurve increases the available cutting edge without having to increase the overall length of the blade. Multiple recurves on a blade are serrations.
As a safety knife, a recurve HAK is outstanding. The knife is passively retained, the package is very small, and all you do is grasp and pull. My only concern is that the knife is made from 440c steel, which is not corrosion resistant. Of course, that is easily remedied through basic preventative maintenance, which in this case is a rinse after salt water exposure and a wipe down with Marine Tuf-Cloth.
Now, before everyone goes out and decides they want a HAK, understand a few things. First and foremost, the company that produces the HAK is effectively no longer a viable business, due to all kinds of poor business decisions and drama. I was lucky in that I am part of a larger community of knife collectors, and so I basically just put out a wanted add. You can still purchase utility HAKs from Fenix Outfitters (as well as other nifty bits).
The closest knife that I can think of that isn’t a HAK that would fulfill all of my needs in a PFD safety knife would be the Fred Perrin La Griffe or derivatives. Emerson knives makes a production version of the La Griffe, and Sypderco has produced a limited run called the “Swick.”
My HAK is specifically a safety knife. While I could use it as a utility knife, I will not. The sole reason it is on my person is as an emergency tool in life threatening situations. The idea is that it only gets used if I am in or underwater and I need to cut through something immediately. No sense in using it for utility tasks, as that would take it out of its sheath and potentially take it out of useable reach.
More later on utility knives and multi-tools.
M.Yng.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
My first day on the Big Briny
Yesterday I awoke at 4:30 AM, ready to get down to Pacific City for my first shot at fishing from the Outback on big water. My plan was to get out the door by 5:30am, and with judicious use of the accelerator on my car, get to Cape Kiwanda by 7:30am, and launch soon after that. Ocean conditions looked perfect for a newbie – 3 foot swells at 7 seconds, winds 5-10 knots with 1 foot wind waves. Just about as calm as the Pacific Ocean gets off of the coast of Oregon.
Well, I happen to be a very good friend of Murphy. If it can go wrong, it will go wrong at the worst possible time. Yesterday morning was no different from any other morning when I wake up at a ridiculously early time in order to go do something I am excited about. Things still needed to be packed, and it happened in a rather haphazard way. I did not actually get out of the door and into the car until 6:30. Since it was so late, I decided to go get coffee. While at the coffee shop, I realized that I had forgotten a towel and a second set of clothes. SO back to the house I went. Managed to get 3 miles away from home before my mental checklist alarm went off. I did a quick inventory in my head of what gear I had grabbed in the rush out of the door. You cannot go fishing, I told myself (and my mother, who was along for the ride), without a fishing rod and reel.
Dammit.
Luckily, I happened to be approaching an intersection that I could turn around at easily. So, three miles back home. Traffic is picking up. I am getting progressively more and more irritable. Fishing rod in hand, I jump back in the car and head out. For real this time.
Back into traffic. Again, luckily, it was Monday morning at 7am, so it wasn’t super heavy. Highway 26 to Highway 6 to Highway 101 southbound. With a pit stop at the Safeway in Tillamook. And then, at about 9:30 am, Cape Kiwanda and Pacific City. We park, survey, and I start to get down to business. From several threads on one of the forums I frequent, I know that there are at least two other kayakers in the area fishing. But I am three hours off of their launch time. So I start to get ready to drag my ‘yak down the beach, and figure it out myself.
And then Murphy smiles at me. A pickup truck with a kayak in the bed pulls up next to me. The guy driving says to me “From the looks of the car and the kayak, I would guess that you are Madoc?” I give a description of what should be the most obvious way of identifying my when I am trying to coordinate plans with people that I have never met in person.
Turns out I am encountering a new friend, Wali, otherwise known on the forum boards as “Fishes From Tupperware.” So now I have a paddling buddy, and an experienced one at that. FFTW moderates a forum on the Northwest Kayak Anglers website entitled “Don’t Ask Me How I Know.” Sort of appropriate for me.
Wali and I watched as the two Kayakers who had launched first thing in the morning came paddling back in. They had been pretty successful, with close to the limit of rockfish and cabezon. They had some pointers as to where do go, as neither Wali nor I had fishfinders mounted on our kayaks.
The launch was fun and easy. Again, the Pacific was very calm and easy on me for my first time. We paddled out a hundred yards or so, and I dropped the mirage drive into position. We got 200 yards off shore and dropped our lines in. Wali immediately had fish on, and it turned out to be a small Ling Cod. To small to be a keeper, but a good start. Not having a sonar unit between us meant that we were fishing by feel. The standard method of fishing for groundfish from a boat along the Oregon coast is by jigging. Your lure is also the sinker body in this case. The standard set up is a 1 ½ oz. upwards to 9+ oz. jig heads – a large hook with a lead head molded over the eyelet. A rubber lure is threaded over the hook, and the jig is tied off to the end of the line. You drop the lure straight down until it hits bottom, and bounce it along the bottom. Without having a sonar unit, you have to guess what surface you are fishing over, mostly based on the feel that you get when you are bouncing the jig off of the bottom. It becomes very clear when you are over sand or over rocks. The fish that we were after live amongst the rocks.
We tooled over to towards the haystack rock, laughing at the Common Murres. They look like penguins, but they fly. My jig got snagged right as Wali called out another fish on. I worke to get my line untangled – somehow it had decided to wrap around the pole a few times, and then my drag and freespool weren’t working right. I finally got is all figured out, and realized that I wasn’t snagged, I had a fish on as well. I reeled in to find a 13” Cabezon on my jig. Too small to keep. But my first fish landed on my kayak, the first fish I have landed on the ocean using gear that I set up, and the second ocean fish that I have caught in waters around Oregon. It may not have been a keeper, but it was worth a picture. Wali had pulled in another underling. He tried to take a picture of me and my fish with his camera, but true to form, it wouldn’t work. So we both pulled out our phones and snapped a couple pics for posterity.
Here is my little cabezon
We drifted around a little bit more, and then headed to the kelp bed on the beach side of the haystack. Bull Kelp is pretty neat stuff, but fishing around it calls for gear that I did not bring. Specifically, weedless jigheads. My first drop I end up snagged on a piece of kelp. I am surprised that I didn’t snap my line trying to get unsnagged. It took me five minutes, and I ended up uprooting the kelp that I was snagged to.
Meanwhile, Wali was on another fish. This time it was a cabezon. And it was a keeper. 16 inches is the minimum length for retention of a cabezon in Oregon, and Wali had one that was at least 24”. A really piggy of a fish. We kept playing around the kelp, and Wali hooked up a black rockfish. We weren’t sure of the legal retention limit for it, so I pulled up the regs on my phone. It turns out that there is no minimum limit for black rockfish, and I told Wali that. While I was waiting for my phone to bring up the info, he had decided to release the fish. Oh well.
We had to pack it in around 1, and started heading back in. The tide had come in while we were out, and the waves had picked up a little bit, but nothing too scary for a newbie. We watched a guy launch from the beach on a surfboard. To go fishing. I can only imagine how that works.
I managed to get right behind a small breaker (they were about 2 feet, is that even a “breaker?”) and ride it in. Hopped out in about six inches of water, and hauled the yak up the beach.
So, some lessons learned.
1. Pack the night before. I had plenty of time the night before (I always have time the night before, and I seem to always wait until I am under pressure to leave to pack).
2. Bring the right gear. Not only is a checklist necessary, but knowing the correct gear to have is important. I mostly had the right stuff, but there were a few corrections that I need to make. Weedless jigheads and more lure bodies. Larger jigheads – bigger fish eat bigger things.
3. Don’t freak out when you are running late.
4. Don’t forget to remove the gear that you don’t need before launching. I had the rechargeable batteries for my fishfinder in my gear livewell. I forgot to take them out, as well as forgot to plug the drain holes in the well. This morning I found the corroded batteries in a half inch of seawater. $50 mistake right there. Lesson learned.
Wali, Thanks for being there. That was a great first trip.
More soon,
M.Yng
Well, I happen to be a very good friend of Murphy. If it can go wrong, it will go wrong at the worst possible time. Yesterday morning was no different from any other morning when I wake up at a ridiculously early time in order to go do something I am excited about. Things still needed to be packed, and it happened in a rather haphazard way. I did not actually get out of the door and into the car until 6:30. Since it was so late, I decided to go get coffee. While at the coffee shop, I realized that I had forgotten a towel and a second set of clothes. SO back to the house I went. Managed to get 3 miles away from home before my mental checklist alarm went off. I did a quick inventory in my head of what gear I had grabbed in the rush out of the door. You cannot go fishing, I told myself (and my mother, who was along for the ride), without a fishing rod and reel.
Dammit.
Luckily, I happened to be approaching an intersection that I could turn around at easily. So, three miles back home. Traffic is picking up. I am getting progressively more and more irritable. Fishing rod in hand, I jump back in the car and head out. For real this time.
Back into traffic. Again, luckily, it was Monday morning at 7am, so it wasn’t super heavy. Highway 26 to Highway 6 to Highway 101 southbound. With a pit stop at the Safeway in Tillamook. And then, at about 9:30 am, Cape Kiwanda and Pacific City. We park, survey, and I start to get down to business. From several threads on one of the forums I frequent, I know that there are at least two other kayakers in the area fishing. But I am three hours off of their launch time. So I start to get ready to drag my ‘yak down the beach, and figure it out myself.
And then Murphy smiles at me. A pickup truck with a kayak in the bed pulls up next to me. The guy driving says to me “From the looks of the car and the kayak, I would guess that you are Madoc?” I give a description of what should be the most obvious way of identifying my when I am trying to coordinate plans with people that I have never met in person.
Turns out I am encountering a new friend, Wali, otherwise known on the forum boards as “Fishes From Tupperware.” So now I have a paddling buddy, and an experienced one at that. FFTW moderates a forum on the Northwest Kayak Anglers website entitled “Don’t Ask Me How I Know.” Sort of appropriate for me.
Wali and I watched as the two Kayakers who had launched first thing in the morning came paddling back in. They had been pretty successful, with close to the limit of rockfish and cabezon. They had some pointers as to where do go, as neither Wali nor I had fishfinders mounted on our kayaks.
The launch was fun and easy. Again, the Pacific was very calm and easy on me for my first time. We paddled out a hundred yards or so, and I dropped the mirage drive into position. We got 200 yards off shore and dropped our lines in. Wali immediately had fish on, and it turned out to be a small Ling Cod. To small to be a keeper, but a good start. Not having a sonar unit between us meant that we were fishing by feel. The standard method of fishing for groundfish from a boat along the Oregon coast is by jigging. Your lure is also the sinker body in this case. The standard set up is a 1 ½ oz. upwards to 9+ oz. jig heads – a large hook with a lead head molded over the eyelet. A rubber lure is threaded over the hook, and the jig is tied off to the end of the line. You drop the lure straight down until it hits bottom, and bounce it along the bottom. Without having a sonar unit, you have to guess what surface you are fishing over, mostly based on the feel that you get when you are bouncing the jig off of the bottom. It becomes very clear when you are over sand or over rocks. The fish that we were after live amongst the rocks.
We tooled over to towards the haystack rock, laughing at the Common Murres. They look like penguins, but they fly. My jig got snagged right as Wali called out another fish on. I worke to get my line untangled – somehow it had decided to wrap around the pole a few times, and then my drag and freespool weren’t working right. I finally got is all figured out, and realized that I wasn’t snagged, I had a fish on as well. I reeled in to find a 13” Cabezon on my jig. Too small to keep. But my first fish landed on my kayak, the first fish I have landed on the ocean using gear that I set up, and the second ocean fish that I have caught in waters around Oregon. It may not have been a keeper, but it was worth a picture. Wali had pulled in another underling. He tried to take a picture of me and my fish with his camera, but true to form, it wouldn’t work. So we both pulled out our phones and snapped a couple pics for posterity.
Here is my little cabezon
We drifted around a little bit more, and then headed to the kelp bed on the beach side of the haystack. Bull Kelp is pretty neat stuff, but fishing around it calls for gear that I did not bring. Specifically, weedless jigheads. My first drop I end up snagged on a piece of kelp. I am surprised that I didn’t snap my line trying to get unsnagged. It took me five minutes, and I ended up uprooting the kelp that I was snagged to.
Meanwhile, Wali was on another fish. This time it was a cabezon. And it was a keeper. 16 inches is the minimum length for retention of a cabezon in Oregon, and Wali had one that was at least 24”. A really piggy of a fish. We kept playing around the kelp, and Wali hooked up a black rockfish. We weren’t sure of the legal retention limit for it, so I pulled up the regs on my phone. It turns out that there is no minimum limit for black rockfish, and I told Wali that. While I was waiting for my phone to bring up the info, he had decided to release the fish. Oh well.
We had to pack it in around 1, and started heading back in. The tide had come in while we were out, and the waves had picked up a little bit, but nothing too scary for a newbie. We watched a guy launch from the beach on a surfboard. To go fishing. I can only imagine how that works.
I managed to get right behind a small breaker (they were about 2 feet, is that even a “breaker?”) and ride it in. Hopped out in about six inches of water, and hauled the yak up the beach.
So, some lessons learned.
1. Pack the night before. I had plenty of time the night before (I always have time the night before, and I seem to always wait until I am under pressure to leave to pack).
2. Bring the right gear. Not only is a checklist necessary, but knowing the correct gear to have is important. I mostly had the right stuff, but there were a few corrections that I need to make. Weedless jigheads and more lure bodies. Larger jigheads – bigger fish eat bigger things.
3. Don’t freak out when you are running late.
4. Don’t forget to remove the gear that you don’t need before launching. I had the rechargeable batteries for my fishfinder in my gear livewell. I forgot to take them out, as well as forgot to plug the drain holes in the well. This morning I found the corroded batteries in a half inch of seawater. $50 mistake right there. Lesson learned.
Wali, Thanks for being there. That was a great first trip.
More soon,
M.Yng
Friday, July 10, 2009
Muscle Spasms suck
I was hoping to get out to Pacific City yesterday or today to try my hand at launching in the surf and perhaps catching a fish or so. No joy. Yesterday I woke up with cold, stiff muscles. One of the first things I do is brush my hair. My long hair. Which involves lifting my arm over my head, and tilting said head. Who knew that brushing your hair would result in muscle spasms throughout your back.
Stupid muscles. So no report on hulis or fishies.
Stupid muscles. So no report on hulis or fishies.
Staying Alive, Staying Alive, Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah Staying ALIIIVEE
My thoughts on personal flotation devices (PFDs).
After your common sense and conditioning, a PFD seems like the number one piece of safety equipment that is necessary for being a kayak fisherman. Since the kayak, at least mine, is a single person watercraft, it falls to the operator to ensure their own safety. The kayak isn’t going to throw me a life ring or jump in and try and save me if I go over. And from what I understand, flipping your kayak or getting knocked off (called a “Huli,” which evidently is based on “huli maka flip,” Hawaiian pidgen for falling over or making and ass of one’s self) happens. If you know it is a real risk, then you prepare for it. Huli maka flip on land, and you just embarrass yourself. Huli in water over your head, or in the surf, and you have a host of other problems
So, what PFD to choose? Since I am a noob at this, I asked my friendly sales people to help me narrow down the decision making process – by pointing me in the direction of vests designed for SOT kayakers or kayak fisherman. My love of pockets, webbing and Fastex buckles naturally had me gravitating towards vests designed for rescue personnel. “OOOOH, look at all of those pockets and zippers and attachment points!” I was saying to myself. And was quickly, and thankfully, steered away from them. Not that I wouldn’t love to have a Rescue PFD, but to be perfectly honest, I absolutely don’t need it. And part of this whole kayak buying business is about defining my needs vs. my wants (of course, buying a kayak is totally unnecessary, but hey…). Another great source of inspiration comes from my brief experience using an SOT for a couple of days in a very friendly lake a few summers ago, as well as hoisting myself out of many a pool without using the ladder.
My choices boiled down to the Astral V8 or the Stohlquist Fisherman. Both have about the same price point, and both come in a drab green color. Which I like. Perhaps not the best choice as far as visibility goes when the CG is out looking for you, but it fits my fashion sensibilities and reflects less in strong sunlight. Which is something I’m not sure very many people think about when they purchase a brilliant yellow or orange safety vest – especially for fishing. Quite a bit of what you do depends on what you can see, and if your clothing is highly reflective, it may cut down on what you can see.
Those of you who really know me, and may know a little bit about PFDs already, may be asking why I didn’t choose an inflatable vest? You know, the HSLD types that inflate using a CO2 cartridge. As cool as those are, not for me. You see, falling into the water is just the start of the problems. Falling into the water, possibly surrounded by various lines, cords, and et cetera, is an added risk, you know, of getting tangled. Underwater. Potentially in rough seas. Pulling a rip cord while possibly fighting lines, underwater, with the risk of getting hit in the head by a kayak, is just one more thing that can go wrong. There are vests with pressure triggers, but again, that's just asking for trouble. A passive floatation vest will float you even if you are unconscious. Which you hopefully aren’t. The other down side to inflatables is that they are limited use items. Fall in, need it, pop! Get home, and then what? Buy a new cartridge, dry and repack the vest. One more step.
The Stolhquist is loaded with pockets specifically laid out for fisherman. Basically it seems like a fishing vest plus flotation. Which is awesome. External surface of the pockets are smooth faced, there are two lash points on the chest, a rod holder, and the pocket covers, when fully unzipped, act as a rigid workshelf. One of the coolest vests that I have seen, and very well thought out. I mean, you have all of the pocket joy available for little fiddly bits, with an ergonomic layout. It’s like this vest was made for me, right?
Not quite. I actually bought the Astral V8. Two relatively useless pockets – an open top chest slot pocket on the left side and a snap closed mesh pocket on the lower right hand side. One lash point on the right chest. Totally slick faced, vented body, and very low profile.
Most of you who know me in my day to day know that I am almost never without a knife or three, two or more flashlights, and various other little bits of gadgety goodness. Heck, when I saw the Reef sandals with the built in bottle opener, the gadget fiend part of me just about wet myself. I go by the mantra that one=zero, and two=one. Expect failure at the least convenient moment. Murphy’s law and all that.
“So why,” you ask, “did you buy a PFD that has virtually no ergonomic storage?” Great question, and it comes down to setting limitations and having a clearly defined purpose. My PFD is first and foremost a personal safety item, and secondly a handy space to cover with gadgets and stuff. With that clearly in mind, I made the purchase. The V8 is slick faced. Zero pockets protrude from the front of the vest – the mesh pocket on the right is off to the side, and I wouldn’t really use it for much more than keeping a bottle of sunblock kind of handy. So there is little to snag on the side of a boat or kayak if you do have to make a re-entry while wearing it. The other thing that I have learned while fishing and carrying groceries is that, if I have a pocket with something in it that I need right now, the hand that can reach is occupied. So pockets, while wondrous creations that allow us to carry all kinds of goodies, are sort of a hindrance in this situation. And I already have a fishing vest.
The lack of pockets brings me to the next issue. Without convenient lash points or pockets, how can I carry all of the useful bits and pieces? The short answer is, “streamline.” I do not need super redundancy on the PFD. I will ideally be sitting on a kayak with plenty of storage space. I “need” the minimal gear on the PFD to remain safe in the water, and to have that gear immediately available while in the water. This equipment is, in order of importance to me
1. Knife - Having “only” one lash point for a knife on the vest is desirable. The knife that I choose for that attachment has to be the correct one. I am right handed, so the mounting option is the correct one for my handedness, and is in a location where I can reach it with my off hand as well. If you take a look at the picture, I have mounted the knife on the left shoulder strap, altogether foregoing the lashpoint.
2. Emergency strobe - The emergency strobe is not a flashlight. It is an emergency strobe. The PFD is such that if I am conscious and in the water and have to activate the strobe, it needs to be on the vest, and ideally on the highest point of the vest – so that it is visible from as many angles as possible. The V8 has nylon webbing for shoulder straps – this webbing is an ideal attachment point for a clip on strobe beacon. Check out high on the left shoulder strap, and you will see a Glo-Toob beacon light. Loads of settings, right now it is on slow strobe.
3. Whistle – Simple. Pea-less design attached to a lanyard just long enough to reach the mouth. Check out the orange thing on the right shoulder strap.
4. Reflector – this is going to be a signal mirror. Strobes are great at night, but mirrors you can point at search vehicles. Since mirrors are flat, this can fit in the pocket on the vest. You can just make it out on the lower right pocket.
5. VHF radio – this is not a “necessary” piece of survival gear, but is a mighty good thing to have on hand - just a hair off of "necessary". Once again, there are shoulder straps on the V8, and they have webbing keeper loops built in. These also happen to be sized right for radio clips, or more securely, a radio pouch. Right shoulder, I threaded a Tactical Tailor Small radio pouch over the adjustment straps. My Rino 530 was the stand-in for the VHF in this pic.
So there you have it. My minimal piece of survival gear, minimized. What you need, where you need it. And, to satisfy my super-redundancy wants, there are other ways of carrying gear separate from the vest entirely.
After your common sense and conditioning, a PFD seems like the number one piece of safety equipment that is necessary for being a kayak fisherman. Since the kayak, at least mine, is a single person watercraft, it falls to the operator to ensure their own safety. The kayak isn’t going to throw me a life ring or jump in and try and save me if I go over. And from what I understand, flipping your kayak or getting knocked off (called a “Huli,” which evidently is based on “huli maka flip,” Hawaiian pidgen for falling over or making and ass of one’s self) happens. If you know it is a real risk, then you prepare for it. Huli maka flip on land, and you just embarrass yourself. Huli in water over your head, or in the surf, and you have a host of other problems
So, what PFD to choose? Since I am a noob at this, I asked my friendly sales people to help me narrow down the decision making process – by pointing me in the direction of vests designed for SOT kayakers or kayak fisherman. My love of pockets, webbing and Fastex buckles naturally had me gravitating towards vests designed for rescue personnel. “OOOOH, look at all of those pockets and zippers and attachment points!” I was saying to myself. And was quickly, and thankfully, steered away from them. Not that I wouldn’t love to have a Rescue PFD, but to be perfectly honest, I absolutely don’t need it. And part of this whole kayak buying business is about defining my needs vs. my wants (of course, buying a kayak is totally unnecessary, but hey…). Another great source of inspiration comes from my brief experience using an SOT for a couple of days in a very friendly lake a few summers ago, as well as hoisting myself out of many a pool without using the ladder.
My choices boiled down to the Astral V8 or the Stohlquist Fisherman. Both have about the same price point, and both come in a drab green color. Which I like. Perhaps not the best choice as far as visibility goes when the CG is out looking for you, but it fits my fashion sensibilities and reflects less in strong sunlight. Which is something I’m not sure very many people think about when they purchase a brilliant yellow or orange safety vest – especially for fishing. Quite a bit of what you do depends on what you can see, and if your clothing is highly reflective, it may cut down on what you can see.
Those of you who really know me, and may know a little bit about PFDs already, may be asking why I didn’t choose an inflatable vest? You know, the HSLD types that inflate using a CO2 cartridge. As cool as those are, not for me. You see, falling into the water is just the start of the problems. Falling into the water, possibly surrounded by various lines, cords, and et cetera, is an added risk, you know, of getting tangled. Underwater. Potentially in rough seas. Pulling a rip cord while possibly fighting lines, underwater, with the risk of getting hit in the head by a kayak, is just one more thing that can go wrong. There are vests with pressure triggers, but again, that's just asking for trouble. A passive floatation vest will float you even if you are unconscious. Which you hopefully aren’t. The other down side to inflatables is that they are limited use items. Fall in, need it, pop! Get home, and then what? Buy a new cartridge, dry and repack the vest. One more step.
The Stolhquist is loaded with pockets specifically laid out for fisherman. Basically it seems like a fishing vest plus flotation. Which is awesome. External surface of the pockets are smooth faced, there are two lash points on the chest, a rod holder, and the pocket covers, when fully unzipped, act as a rigid workshelf. One of the coolest vests that I have seen, and very well thought out. I mean, you have all of the pocket joy available for little fiddly bits, with an ergonomic layout. It’s like this vest was made for me, right?
Not quite. I actually bought the Astral V8. Two relatively useless pockets – an open top chest slot pocket on the left side and a snap closed mesh pocket on the lower right hand side. One lash point on the right chest. Totally slick faced, vented body, and very low profile.
Most of you who know me in my day to day know that I am almost never without a knife or three, two or more flashlights, and various other little bits of gadgety goodness. Heck, when I saw the Reef sandals with the built in bottle opener, the gadget fiend part of me just about wet myself. I go by the mantra that one=zero, and two=one. Expect failure at the least convenient moment. Murphy’s law and all that.
“So why,” you ask, “did you buy a PFD that has virtually no ergonomic storage?” Great question, and it comes down to setting limitations and having a clearly defined purpose. My PFD is first and foremost a personal safety item, and secondly a handy space to cover with gadgets and stuff. With that clearly in mind, I made the purchase. The V8 is slick faced. Zero pockets protrude from the front of the vest – the mesh pocket on the right is off to the side, and I wouldn’t really use it for much more than keeping a bottle of sunblock kind of handy. So there is little to snag on the side of a boat or kayak if you do have to make a re-entry while wearing it. The other thing that I have learned while fishing and carrying groceries is that, if I have a pocket with something in it that I need right now, the hand that can reach is occupied. So pockets, while wondrous creations that allow us to carry all kinds of goodies, are sort of a hindrance in this situation. And I already have a fishing vest.
The lack of pockets brings me to the next issue. Without convenient lash points or pockets, how can I carry all of the useful bits and pieces? The short answer is, “streamline.” I do not need super redundancy on the PFD. I will ideally be sitting on a kayak with plenty of storage space. I “need” the minimal gear on the PFD to remain safe in the water, and to have that gear immediately available while in the water. This equipment is, in order of importance to me
1. Knife - Having “only” one lash point for a knife on the vest is desirable. The knife that I choose for that attachment has to be the correct one. I am right handed, so the mounting option is the correct one for my handedness, and is in a location where I can reach it with my off hand as well. If you take a look at the picture, I have mounted the knife on the left shoulder strap, altogether foregoing the lashpoint.
2. Emergency strobe - The emergency strobe is not a flashlight. It is an emergency strobe. The PFD is such that if I am conscious and in the water and have to activate the strobe, it needs to be on the vest, and ideally on the highest point of the vest – so that it is visible from as many angles as possible. The V8 has nylon webbing for shoulder straps – this webbing is an ideal attachment point for a clip on strobe beacon. Check out high on the left shoulder strap, and you will see a Glo-Toob beacon light. Loads of settings, right now it is on slow strobe.
3. Whistle – Simple. Pea-less design attached to a lanyard just long enough to reach the mouth. Check out the orange thing on the right shoulder strap.
4. Reflector – this is going to be a signal mirror. Strobes are great at night, but mirrors you can point at search vehicles. Since mirrors are flat, this can fit in the pocket on the vest. You can just make it out on the lower right pocket.
5. VHF radio – this is not a “necessary” piece of survival gear, but is a mighty good thing to have on hand - just a hair off of "necessary". Once again, there are shoulder straps on the V8, and they have webbing keeper loops built in. These also happen to be sized right for radio clips, or more securely, a radio pouch. Right shoulder, I threaded a Tactical Tailor Small radio pouch over the adjustment straps. My Rino 530 was the stand-in for the VHF in this pic.
So there you have it. My minimal piece of survival gear, minimized. What you need, where you need it. And, to satisfy my super-redundancy wants, there are other ways of carrying gear separate from the vest entirely.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I’m a Belt and A Suspender Kind of Guy.
Today I want to talk about staying warm and dry. Or mostly warm and mostly dry.
I took the Outback for a short cruise on the Willy yesterday evening out by Sellwood park. Tested out the upgraded turbofins, and the sailing rudder upgrade. Major difference. More on that later.
I put in wearing just some flipflops, cotton ripstop pants and a cotton tee. I knew in advance that I would get wet, that I was only going out for about an hour, and that the water temperature and air temp were warm enough for me to be running around like an idiot in cotton. For those of you who don’t know already, cotton is one of the absolute worst fabrics you can wear while in the out of doors. It absorbs moisture and holds it next to your body, instead of wicking it to the outside surface of the fabric away from your skin. Great for wet t-shirt contests, bad for playing outdoors in anything cooler than 70 degrees.
Luckily, nothing bad happened to me (the turbofins got chewed up by a gravel bar that I didn’t know about until I was on top of it, but minor damage). But I did get wet. The chop on the river last night was up, as well as the wakes from several powerboats (PBs from here on out). Pointing the bow of the boat into the chop or wake results in quite a splash coming over the bow, and being diagonally to moving water has it coming up over the sides. Which isn’t really a problem – the ride on a SOT kayak is a wet one, and the Hobie Outback, because of its hull design, is wetter than most.
Which brings us to the belt and suspenders bit. Bearing in mind how wet I anticipate getting on a regular basis, and knowing a bit about outdoor gear, I fully intend on purchasing a drysuit in the near future.
But, being the impatient, instant gratification type that I am, I want to go out on the ocean now. Or as close to now as possible. I plan on hitting up Pacific City tomorrow in the early, early am.
The surf forecast and ocean forecast looks okay for me. I anticipate getting knocked around in the surf, and getting wet.
But it is going to be cool. So I need to dress appropriately. Since I do not have a drysuit, I need to figure something out. Instead of spending money that I should be saving for the dryuit on something like a wetsuit, I plan on using gear I already have. Which means waders and a hardshell jacket. The upside is that I know that this combination works to protect me from rain and wind. The downside, and this is a huge downside, is that they really don’t do much for you when you get dunked. A Drysuit has gaskets at the neck, wrists, and possibly ankles (if it doesn’t have attached drysocks). My waders are chest waders, which means I am good to go in water cresting at about four and a half feet. If I huli, it is probable that my waders will fill with water. Which is bad. Luckily, my waders came with a belt. The idea behind this is to cinch down on the waist, so if you do get dunked, your waders aren’t going to ballon open and fill up. Instead, your torso down to the belt line gets soaked, and everything below may experience a little bit of a trickle.
I haven’t tested that theory. In fact, I have done everything in my power to avoid testing that theory.
We will see.
I took the Outback for a short cruise on the Willy yesterday evening out by Sellwood park. Tested out the upgraded turbofins, and the sailing rudder upgrade. Major difference. More on that later.
I put in wearing just some flipflops, cotton ripstop pants and a cotton tee. I knew in advance that I would get wet, that I was only going out for about an hour, and that the water temperature and air temp were warm enough for me to be running around like an idiot in cotton. For those of you who don’t know already, cotton is one of the absolute worst fabrics you can wear while in the out of doors. It absorbs moisture and holds it next to your body, instead of wicking it to the outside surface of the fabric away from your skin. Great for wet t-shirt contests, bad for playing outdoors in anything cooler than 70 degrees.
Luckily, nothing bad happened to me (the turbofins got chewed up by a gravel bar that I didn’t know about until I was on top of it, but minor damage). But I did get wet. The chop on the river last night was up, as well as the wakes from several powerboats (PBs from here on out). Pointing the bow of the boat into the chop or wake results in quite a splash coming over the bow, and being diagonally to moving water has it coming up over the sides. Which isn’t really a problem – the ride on a SOT kayak is a wet one, and the Hobie Outback, because of its hull design, is wetter than most.
Which brings us to the belt and suspenders bit. Bearing in mind how wet I anticipate getting on a regular basis, and knowing a bit about outdoor gear, I fully intend on purchasing a drysuit in the near future.
But, being the impatient, instant gratification type that I am, I want to go out on the ocean now. Or as close to now as possible. I plan on hitting up Pacific City tomorrow in the early, early am.
The surf forecast and ocean forecast looks okay for me. I anticipate getting knocked around in the surf, and getting wet.
But it is going to be cool. So I need to dress appropriately. Since I do not have a drysuit, I need to figure something out. Instead of spending money that I should be saving for the dryuit on something like a wetsuit, I plan on using gear I already have. Which means waders and a hardshell jacket. The upside is that I know that this combination works to protect me from rain and wind. The downside, and this is a huge downside, is that they really don’t do much for you when you get dunked. A Drysuit has gaskets at the neck, wrists, and possibly ankles (if it doesn’t have attached drysocks). My waders are chest waders, which means I am good to go in water cresting at about four and a half feet. If I huli, it is probable that my waders will fill with water. Which is bad. Luckily, my waders came with a belt. The idea behind this is to cinch down on the waist, so if you do get dunked, your waders aren’t going to ballon open and fill up. Instead, your torso down to the belt line gets soaked, and everything below may experience a little bit of a trickle.
I haven’t tested that theory. In fact, I have done everything in my power to avoid testing that theory.
We will see.
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