Feeling Blue over My Kayak

I haven't yet clicked with my new kayak. And I think it's the colour that's to blame.

I mean, paddling in my Delta 14 is a dream: it's fast, it's stable, and when I've used the rudder, it moves in a perfectly straight line.

I love paddling in it.

When DW and I decided to upgrade our kayaks, it didn't take us much convincing to go with the 14-foot Deltas. We loved our old Deltas and knew that if we wanted to explore larger waterways, we needed the extra length and the rudders. It was a no-brainer to stick with the brand that we knew and loved.

The only real consideration, after taking a test paddle at Frontenac Outfitters, was to decide on a colour. I really liked the lime green, but so did DW. I didn't want to have the same colour of kayak that I had before, even though I loved the red, and the green was the next colour that appealed to me.

Delta had come out with a new colour, a rich orange, but I felt that it looked too similar to red, and I wanted the new kayak to stand out, especially in our videos. In retrospect, I might have been happier with the orange.

I mean, I liked the Azure colour that Delta had, but I feel that I settled for this colour, rather than saying, "Yeah, I want that colour for my kayak."

When we picked up our kayaks, at the end of April, and saw them unwrapped, I liked the blue. We were looking at our new crafts in a heavily overcast, rainy light, and the blue really punched. Maybe I would be alright with this new colour, I told myself.

On our first paddle, I was overwhelmed by how well the Delta 14 performed, how comfortable I was with it. It felt strange looking down the bow and seeing such a bright colour, but I told myself that I'd get used to it.

After viewing the video footage, I wasn't so sure. The blue didn't look like the rich blue that was unwrapped at Frontenac Outfitters. It appeared pale, like a light sky blue.

If the colour that was captured by the video camera was the true blue of my kayak, I wouldn't have chosen that colour.

I've been out in my kayak five times this season, and every time we've gone out, the sky has been cloudless and the sun has shone brightly. And when I've made a video of our outing, the blue of my kayak has not been accurately captured.

Have a look at the latest YouTube video, when we paddled the Mississippi River from Pakenham to the base of the Blakeney Rapids.

Pale, huh?

DW asked me, after this paddle, if I liked my new kayak. "The kayak itself is fantastic. I'm just not feeling the azure colour. I should have stuck to red or gone with the orange model."

It's too late. There's nothing I can do about it now.

On Saturday, for our fifth paddle, we put our kayaks in the Jock River and did a 10K round-trip trek toward Richmond and back. It was late in the afternoon and a lot of time, we were shaded by trees on the western bank of the river. And for most of the paddle, my kayak looked like the blue that I saw when we picked it up.

Ironically, I decided to leave my video equipment at home. I just wanted to paddle without thinking about capturing our trip.

As the sun got low on the horizon, I took a photo with my smartphone. And for the first time, I saw my kayak by its true colour. The photo has been unedited.

I'm sure I'll get used to the colour and hope that I eventually bond with it, no matter what light hits it. After all, the kayak itself is awesome and I know that when we hit big water, there's no kayak that I'd rather be in.

Autumn Paddle

First Paddle of 2021

On the Water

It's something that DW and I have wanted for a long time.

Any time that she and I have been somewhere that kayaks were available to use, either through a resort or campsite, whether included with the cost of the resort stay or available to rent, we've taken advantage of them and gotten out on the water.

In 2013, DW and I packed up our kids, rented an ultralight canoe, and paddled the Rideau Canal system from Kingston to Ottawa. During that 10-day trek, we passed several people in kayaks, and more than a few times we would be passed by a kayaker, gliding gracefully past us as though we were standing still.

"Just imagine how quickly we could do this in a kayak," I told DW.

A couple of years ago, we attended a kayak test drive that was held by Trailhead, one of Ottawa's outdoor outfitters. We tried several crafts—some with a retractable skeg; others, with a rudder—but fell in love with a particular set of light touring kayaks. Unfortunately, our budget just couldn't handle the cost at that time, so we held off.

This year, DW was determined to get kayaks: "We've been talking about them for a long time and I want one before we're too old to enjoy them." DW had come into some money, recently, and said that this was the year that we'd commit.

We sought the advice of several people, including neighbours and folks on social media. We received great recommendations, and based on those we began doing some research. We decided on a couple of Canadian-made crafts, and we pulled the trigger a little more than a month ago.

Ten days later, we had our kayaks.

While we waited for our order to be delivered, we had more work to do: we had to order crossbars for the roof rails on our car; we had to order J-bars to hold our kayaks to the crossbars; we needed paddles, and once again researched and went shopping. We already had a throw line and PFDs, but we needed a bilge pump. We acquired headband flashlights, for occasions when we were on the water after sunset.

When we first budgeted for kayaks, I don't think we had really taken full stock of what we truly needed. More than $4,000 later, we were ready to hit the water.

Our maiden voyage started from the dock at the Chapman Mills Conservation Area, along the Rideau River, just before sunset. We paddled south, under the Vimy Memorial Bridge, and to the Jock River, just shy of where it flows under Prince of Wales Drive, and back.

What amazed DW and me immediately was how easy it was to control our Delta kayaks. Their design, which has neither skeg nor rudder, stays so straight. Though we didn't have the opportunity to test drive these crafts before buying them, they were a great choice.

Our next kayak ride was on a Friday morning, early enough to get some paddling in and make it back home before our work day began. This time, we put our kayaks in the Jock River, where we had turned around a couple of nights earlier. We had noticed that this small-boat launch (that is, for small boats—those that were rooftop-carried only) was easily accessible and not as crowded as the conservation area when we paddled up to it, and decided it was worth a try.

We put in and continued south, along the Rideau River, to see how far we were from the Long Island Lockstation, which is actually part of Nicolls Island on the north end of Manotick, immediately north of Long Island. We weren't that far, at all, and within about 10 minutes we had reached the bottom of the locks and the adjoining basin.

We decided to go around the northern tip of Nicolls Island and head up the western branch, to see how far we could go before we hit rapids and would be forced back. We paddled perhaps another 10 minutes before we could see a bend in the river and mild rapids. We probable would have been able to traverse these rapids, but about 100 metres before them, we encountered shallow water and rocks. I actually came upon one rock that stopped me in my tracks. We turned around and headed back to the car.

Our most-recent trip was back on the Rideau (we are 10 to 15 minutes from three launches, so it's an easy outing). This time, we drove into Manotick and put our kayaks in at the boat launch off Bridge Street (where the Santa Corona was launched in March). Again, heading south, we paddled around the southern tip of Long Island, to see how close we could get to Watson's Mill before barriers—warning of the drop of the dam—would force us to turn around.

On this outing, we encountered lots of large boats and their wakes, and our kayaks handled them like knife cutting through butter. Seven years ago, in our fully loaded canoe, we would have to turn toward the waves to avoid being tipped over.

Off the Rideau Canal channel, we passed the multi-million-dollar homes and made our way to the mill. As we saw the warning buoys, the water became calm. The large weeping willows protected us from wind, and we were easily able to stop and take photos.

We're hoping to take our kayaks further afield for some full-day trips. DW is looking at Barron Canyon, in Algonquin Park, and we've also planned to head to Perth, and paddle the Tay River. We have a friend who lives along the South Nation River, and we're going to paddle from Jessups Falls to Plantagenet (we planned to do that last weekend but ended up meeting up with our friend and visiting—from a safe distance, instead).

In the days of COVID-19, where maintaining a safe physical distance is what the cool kids are doing, DW's and my love of cycling and kayaking will ensure that we don't get too close to anyone.