By Dale Moses
EDITOR’S NOTE: Follows is the complete narrative by Dale Moses, the Kala Point resident who recounted his 45-minute brush with death in the hopes that it helps others. Read the Peninsula Daily News account by clicking here: https://giftsnap.shop/article/20110105/news/301059986/rescued-kayaker-writes-what-he-did-wrong-in-brush-with-death
Kayak Capsizing Incident – Thursday, 12/30/2010
Summary: I capsized in my kayak today and nearly didn’t make it back alive. I was rescued and can tell the tale.
Background: It was a gorgeous day on Thursday, 12/30/2010 although cold (35 degrees) but the sun was shining. I hadn’t been kayaking since my wife Susie had surgery on her hip two and a half weeks prior. The winds were under ten knots from the north. I had originally thought to kayak the north end of Marrowstone Island but after discussing it with Susie, I agreed the wind and waves would make for poor kayaking there. So to stay in the wind’s lee, I put in at Port Townsend Boat Haven. (See the itemization of my gear at the end of this accounting) I started paddling at 12:06 PM and went east along the city waterfront. I had minimal wind and waves although I did a have bit of wind-cocking to the north as I paddled along. After reaching Point Hudson, I decided to go around that corner and into Fort Worden bay just to stretch out the outing. I was going to go just short of the Point Wilson lighthouse and then return. Although, if the conditions and my own tiredness allowed, I considered going out into the Straits of Juan de Fuca and go a short distance west along the beach there before returning.
Around the corner of Point Hudson, the wind was coming more from the east and there were maybe 6” to 12” wind waves with 6-10 knot winds. This was no problem as I have often kayaked in that kind of seas. High slack water at Point Hudson had been at 10:36 AM at 9.6 ft. I hadn’t checked the tide tables, but I knew the tide had been high so I assumed Puget Sound was ebbing. I paddled easily along the shore and along the Fort Worden beach after touring around the Marine Science Center pier complex. When I approached the Point Wilson lighthouse at about 1:15 PM, I failed to detect that the ebb was making me move more quickly along the inside beach leading to the Point. As soon as I did realize this, I turned the kayak around to head back. A minute or so before I turned, I noticed the swells from the straits were breaking with several good sized standing waves (4-5 ft) ahead of me at the eastern tip of the Point. As I came about, the ebb carried me further and further out the channel between Point Wilson and Whidbey Island. Once I turned around, I tried to paddle back into Fort Worden bay inside the curve of the land but found I was not keeping even with the rocks on the shore and was moving backwards out to sea. The current there was probably at least 4 knots because I know I can paddle 3+ knots sustained and about 4 knots for short bursts. I aimed the kayak in towards the shore to try to lessen the current. Within a minute I was stern-to the large standing wave since the ebb had moved me further out as I turned around. The kayak started to surf with the bow awash and for a brief moment, I thought the surfing might carry me back to safety. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep the kayak absolutely perpendicular riding down the standing wave and the kayak slewed to port. As soon as it slewed, the wave rolled me over to starboard and I was in the water.
I was easily able to get out of the cockpit underwater and swim to the surface. My paddle was attached to my PFD with a paddle leash. The kayak was upside-down and I grabbed the standing lines on its deck to keep close to it. I initially tried to kick and swim to the shore of the Point but I quickly found that the current was moving me swiftly out through the entrance and the shore at that Point was too rocky for a landing even if I could have gotten to it. With the standing waves rolling around me, and now more swells coming in off the strait, I didn’t try to do a self-rescue to get back into the kayak. My fear became losing contact with the kayak so I got a good grip on the stern toggle and went with the current. I was hoping it would bend around the Point to quieter water where I could self-rescue and get back in the kayak.
My left calf-high neoprene kayak boot was coming off and several times I reached down to pull it back on. The back board that I had been using to lean against in the seat also was floating nearby and I tried to grab it as I was going along with the current. I passed the Point and passed the lighthouse, and became concerned just how far out in the Straits the current was going to carry me. After some minutes, I felt I was wrapping a little around to the west and the current did abate somewhat. The Strait swells and waves were a little less but I still kept getting face full’s of water and I had to keep kicking to keep my head high enough above water to breathe. I was starting to realize that some water was getting into my dry suit (see the dry suit discussion later in this narrative).
After more minutes, I made my first attempt at getting back into the boat. By now, the shore was perhaps 100 yards away and I was still moving with the current to the west on an angle roughly 30 degrees diagonally off from the shore moving me further out to sea. I got the kayak turned right-side up fairly easily once I swam around to be at mid-kayak to leverage it over. Then I moved to be up sea from the kayak because I found from the down sea side it would roll back at me with the waves. Once the kayak was righted (perhaps 1/3 full of water in the cockpit) I lunged belly-first onto the deck/cockpit and got my center of gravity above the kayak while lying perpendicularly to the kayak’s fore-and-aft centerline. I was pleased that I didn’t need to deploy the stirrup line to “step up” to get onto the kayak. I started angling around to get my left leg into the cockpit but then I rolled forward going down sea and the kayak flipped over again. The second time, I managed to get my left leg into the cockpit with my belly against the cockpit deck, but when maneuvering to get the other leg in, the kayak rolled over again.
I was breathing pretty hard for most of the time in the water up until now but I didn’t feel particularly cold. The water was about 45 degrees although I hadn’t measured it with my thermometer that day. My left kayak boot was floating in the water near me and I grabbed it and stuffed it into the cockpit. I don’t remember it happening, but I think the right boot had come off later and I didn’t see it or realize it was gone. I think the reason they both came off was because by now, I had had enough water enter my dry suit to balloon up both sewed-in booties in the dry suit and have those full booties dangle below my feet. Thus the neoprene boots didn’t have my feet to cling to…just the water-ballooned booties deeper in the water than my feet so the boots easily came off from those balloons.
I decided to rig the paddle float to stabilize the kayak for my third attempt to get back into the kayak. I unhooked the paddle float from its storage position (rolled-up on the after kayak deck under bungy cords and clipped-in) and I inflated it. I hadn’t done this drill for perhaps two years since practicing on a summer lake in my old kayak. I may have been starting to have some hypothermia effect at this point because I forgot that once inflated, the paddle goes into the pouch formed by the paddle float then you buckle the strap around the paddle shaft. Instead of doing this, I threaded the paddle through the carry-strap on the outside of the float and buckled it on the paddle shaft. I lunged onto the kayak for a third time with the paddle and float at right angles up sea to the kayak. However, because the paddle blade wasn’t in the pouch the paddle float slid up close to the kayak and didn’t provide much stability. I found I could rest on the top of the kayak even though my feet and knees were still in the water – at least I could slow my ragged breathing compared to when I would be in the water swimming and holding onto the kayak. I was afraid of the waves rolling me over again if I tried twisting my legs into the cockpit. So instead of trying to get my feet into the cockpit again, I tried kicking the water to move me closer to shore. My kicks weren’t very effective because of the water-balloon booties flopping around my feet. I visually lined up the lighthouse with some white houses on the far shore of Whidbey Island to see if I was moving in the direction I wanted. I may have moved a little south but it took a lot of effort so I kicked then rested through several cycles. By this time I had noticed a dozen or so people standing on the cliffs west of the lighthouse but they seemed a good distance away.
I was starting to realize that I was in serious trouble. I knew that if I could get myself back into the kayak, I could probably paddle to the closest beach even if I didn’t bail out the flooded cockpit. But by this time I wasn’t confident that I could get back into the cockpit after the previous attempts.
I noticed two vessels clearing the Point. They looked like fishing boats headed out into the Straits. They were way too far away to hail. I concentrated on my kicking. The boats got a little closer and I figured they were heading to Port Angeles along the shore but would be well out to sea from me. I was drifting along in a large patch of bull kelp probably 150-200 yards off the beach. Later I estimated that I was 0.7 nautical miles from the Point where I had capsized. It was somewhere around 2 PM I estimated later so I had probably been in the water about 45 minutes. I learned later that the first emergency call to 911 was received at 1:30.
One of the two boats came inshore of me and for the first time I started to think it might rescue me – I still thought it was a fishing boat. Finally, it was within hailing distance and I waved my right arm and the crewman on the bow waved back. I think at that point my self-control started to come unglued with relief.
The boat negotiated the bull kelp and got about 15 feet away from me still lying on top of the kayak after attempt #3. The crewman heaved a throwing line with pouch at the end to me but it took four attempts to get it where I could grab it. Once I did, they pulled me onto their port side where there was a drop panel in their gunnel amidships. It took them a minute or so to untangle me from my paddle leash, and from my PFD catching on the kayak cockpit gunnel, and to haul me aboard. I went to the bow and stood up but they asked me to sit on the thermal cooler just forward of the center console steering station. I asked about my kayak and they said it would get retrieved by the other boat. I learned that this was the East Jefferson Fire & Rescue (EJF&R) boat out of the Port Townsend Boat Haven.
The boat sped back past Point Wilson and drove inside the mini-harbor at the Marine Science Center. They said an aid car was standing by there. The crewman stood in front of me with his jacket unzipped and tried to shelter me from the wind. We beached on the boat ramp there. I was helped out into foot deep water and up the boat launch ramp to the EJF&R aid car. There were a number of people standing around watching. With my water-balloon booties I couldn’t lift my legs into the aid car. With my head inside the rear door, I took my floppy-brimmed hat off and noticed my eyes were having trouble focusing. It may have been the fluorescent lights inside the car but I was concerned with fainting. They helped me get my dry suit off and got me onto the gurney. Jason identified himself, as did the other medic (but I don’t remember his name…it may have been Bill Beezley). They put instant heat packs on me as well as blankets and towels. I noticed that I was shaking all over but particularly my thighs and lower hips were rapidly shaking up and down and were starting to feel tired. Jason started an IV in my right hand. He started asking me for information. I interrupted him to tell him my home phone and wife’s name because I was concerned I might pass out. I heard him talking on his radio several times. They told me my kayak had been recovered and was being brought ashore. It would be kept by the Fort Worden ranger. After several minutes, they told me that my wife had been contacted by EJF&R Chief Gordon Pomeroy and she was coming to the ER at Jefferson Healthcare Hospital. They removed my vest, trousers, pullover shirt, and sox leaving me in just my quick-dry skivvies.
Jason took my oral temperature which was 92 degrees but I think it wasn’t accurate because I was still breathing through my mouth. Jason also took a blood glucose reading when he learned I was a Type II diabetic. I think that reading was 192 – way higher than my normal 130-140. They administered an EKG on me and put a blood pressure cuff on me. I don’t recall the EKG readings but I think my blood pressure was something like 180/90.
I was probably in the aid car for about ten minutes when it started and we drove to the hospital ER. They wheeled me into the ER and I noticed the wall clock there read 2:30 – this was the first time I was aware of time since paddling in Fort Worden cove ninety minutes earlier. The main ER doc was Nicholas Perera MD.
The ER staff moved me onto the ER gurney, stripped my skivvies, and put a plastic pocketed blanket over me. A machine pumped warm air through a tube into that blanket. They also put regular blankets over me and around my head. Then they started me on warmed oxygen flow. My IV from the aid car was still dripping solution into me. They took my temperature rectally – it was 96.8 degrees. That seemed to make them all feel that I wasn’t that bad off. They asked if I needed anything and I confessed I needed to pee so they gave me a bottle for it.
Susie arrived after being driven to the hospital by Michael Kubec (Susie was on drugs for her hip replacement surgery and wasn’t supposed to drive herself). We talked about the incident and worked out arrangements to get my car and kayak back. She and Michael went off to get me dry clothes, retrieve my car keys from the kayak dry bag, and return to the ER. I remained in the ER covered up for about two hours and was finally released to go home. Ron Kubec drove my car home and I rode with Susie and Michael. I was still pretty emotional and broke out sobbing several times. I still have occasional sessions!
Conclusion:
I was very lucky. My equipment served me fairly well but it could have been better. Even if I could have gotten ashore under my own power, I think hypothermia might well have done me in. I am very grateful to East Jefferson Fire & Rescue, Vessel Assist, the USCG, Fort Worden ranger, Jefferson Healthcare ER, and of course, the several people who called 911 to report my capsizing.
My Equipment:
Necky “Looksha 17” kayak (sealed compartments fore and aft)
Werner “Camano” paddle (with a paddle leash connected to my PFD)
Lotus Designs PFD (with whistle, knife, flashlight and compass tethered in pockets)
Kokutat Goretex dry suit (with torn neck gasket and torn wrist gasket)
NRS neoprene kayak calf-high boots
Tilley brimmed hat (which stayed on the whole time – a surprise)
Goretex winter gloves (very worn so they leaked but they stayed on the whole time)
NRS paddle float (tethered and bungied to rear deck on kayak)
Bilge-Master kayak pump (tethered and bungied on forward deck of kayak)
Dry-Pak mini-dry bag (tethered and bungied on forward deck of kayak)
Garmin 76S GPS (tethered to forward deck bungy)
Change of clothing in a dry bag inside rear kayak storage compartment
Flares, air horn, mechanical horn, spare paddle, food bar, emergency tow rope, etc. in forward compartment
Garments under my dry suit:
PolarTec vest
PolarTec fleece trousers
Capilene fleece pullover shirt
REI thermal sox
Ex Officio quick-dry skivvies.
Mental condition: I believe I was clear-headed at least thru the 2nd re-boarding effort. I was getting discouraged at that point particularly after not being able to kick myself towards the shore. I don’t think I ever panicked but I was getting increasingly “concerned” that I would live through this.
Mistakes I Made:
1.I should have stayed well clear of Point Wilson (at any tidal condition). I can’t believe I even thought I might have rounded the point!
2.I should have been more aware of the strong ebb tide
3.Instead of coming about, I might have turned 30-40 degrees east out into the channel. I would have still been swept out into the Straits but I might not have capsized. I would then have paddled to the outside beach once the current lessened and then called Susie to come get me.
4.I should have gotten the dry suit gaskets repaired, or at least temporarily taped them. (I knew this was a problem because twice earlier I had used the dry suit to swim under our boat to check zincs and I had gotten a lot of water in the suit even then).
5.I should have rigged the paddle float the first time I attempted a self-rescue, and, I should have rigged it with the paddle in the proper pocket. I later realized I should have deployed the paddle/float on the down sea side to decrease the chance of the seas rolling the kayak over once I got up on the kayak deck.
6.I should have considered calling for help using all the methods I had at my disposal – cell phone, whistle, yelling, or after retrieving the following from the storage compartment – air horn (either pressured can or mouth-operated model), flares, or deploying the distress flag vertically on my paddle.
7.I should have done more practicing with my new kayak on self-rescue. With my previous kayak, I had a pool session and two warm lake sessions doing self-rescues. I have rehearsed in my mind a number of times how to do this BUT I have yet to do a pool or lake session with my new kayak. (I have committed to myself to do this before I launch again.)
8.I should have tethered the back board to avoid losing it (I had done this once, but I got tangled in its cord exiting from the kayak on the beach so I stopped tethering it).
9.Some folks think it is a mistake to ever paddle by oneself. This belief makes a lot of sense. I feel that I would do far fewer outings if I always had to have a partner. I also have had problems adapting to the partners I have paddled with (usually they are too slow for me). Also, for virtually all of my paddles, I have felt quite comfortable by myself including my level of preparation and experience.
Things I Did Right:
1.I prepared my gear well for kayaking (except for torn gaskets in my dry suit)
2.I stayed with the kayak after capsizing.
3.I didn’t panic.
4.My undergarments were excellent for being in the water. Even when wet, they still had a lot of insulating ability.
5.I am a strong paddler and although I am overweight, my upper body is in pretty good shape for paddling. I do upper body exercises each morning for an old shoulder injury.
6.I have had a lot of experience kayaking, including some trips in rough water. I have done over 300 kayak outings, most in the Pacific Northwest in cold water (several in Florida and the Caribbean).
7.When I kayak by myself, I try to stay very close to the shore all the time except for cross-bay transits. It is possible that several of the shore watchers may have seen me in Fort Worden bay then realized it was me outside later.
8.I am 67 years old. I spent 35 years in the U. S. Navy and have trained, taught and practiced water safety. We have owned a 26′ sailboat (from which I fell out of in a dry suit and managed to get back aboard, still dry) and now we own a 41 foot trawler from which we practice water recovery and are very aware of cold water dangers.
Miscellaneous Information:
1. The first 911 call was from Mary Anne Merrill of Port Townsend. I have called and thanked her. She and her husband are birdwatchers and kayakers and saw an overturned kayak drift through their binocular’s field of view as they observed from the Fort Worden concrete gun casements – lucky for me!
2. I have made a financial contribution to EJF&R and have agreed to help them in training, instruction and publicity.
3. Fort Worden Ranger Fisch kept gear and kayak for me.
4. My mini-dry bag had my cell phone, an electronic wind indicator and my IDs but it leaked enough water to ruin the cell phone and wind indicator. It had been bungied and tethered on the deck just forward of the cockpit. Even if it had occurred to me to make a cell call for help – which it didn’t – the phone was probably toast by that time! A small battery operated digital clock survived in the bag.
5. If I had had the dry suit gaskets replaced, or had even taped them tightly, I don’t think much water would have gotten in my dry suit. Then I probably wouldn’t have lost my boots. Dry booties might have allowed me to get my feet back into the cockpit or at least allowed me to kick better. It certainly would have chilled me less having no water in them.
6. A 40 foot section of light cord with a small weight on one end and a bobber on the other end was stored aft of my kayak seat in an open plastic jar (I use the line to determine water depth). It floated free and as the kayak kept turning over, the cord wrapped itself around the kayak several times. It didn’t hang me up but it might have caused a problem. I should have stored it so it wouldn’t have come free.
7. Sometimes I have carried a VHF radio but didn’t have it this time. I could have used it to call USCG on Channel 16. It is also waterproof unlike the cell phone. I have now ordered a SPOT mini-EPIRB transceiver to use for distress calling.
10. Lost or ruined were:
Cell phone (shorted out?)
Wind speed indicator (shorted out?)
Garmin 76S GPS unit (it had been tethered to a bungy on deck). I don’t know how it became missing. Early in the incident it was floating outside the upside-down kayak.
One kayak boot (lost)
Back board (lost)
Lunch (in a sack at my feet forward in the cockpit). An unopened bag of potato ships was snagged in the seat and made it all the way home!
I am one lucky guy.
Dale Moses
dalemoses@aol.com
