Kayak Journal
Saturday, August 16th, 2008. Palm tubular tape.

The tape rolls compactly and it is easily stored in the front pocket of a buoyancy aid. With a breaking load the exceeds if 1000 kilograms, it a little, clever, versatile aid for many a rescue situation, offering numerous applications such as a short throw line, a contact tow, or if you are fond of Bcu trainings, as an indispensable garrotte for the silent removal of lone sentries during infiltrations and other tactical scenarios.
Saturday, August 9th, 2009. Meet the Ringo Kid.

Yachters dressed as if hitmen from the Samoan mafia, act a little bit funny when we cross paths in the water and find me rehearsing a savant knowledge of Eskimo traditions. To make things clear, I wave and burble the name of the roll in gurgling Inuit. This is making me popular fast.
Today I nailed the shotgun roll, recovering with a demented laugh.
All this is very much heartwarming.
Tuesday, August 6th, 2008. It must be an angel.
With the help of some wee surf, last Sunday I managed to accomplish the angel roll. Three times. One after another.
Having succeeded in the Greenland equivalent to wiggling my nose, I expect here the overwhelming feeling of reverence that rises from watching the grand and the sublime.
Perhaps being furnished with a subsidy will not be out of the question.
Friday, August 1st, 2008. Congas.

I can grasp that eventually, the man will run short of abandoned kayaks. Then it will be time for all those Prijons users in Spain to face reality. Why throw away all that immortal plastic? Making good, usable congas makes good sense.
Thursday, July 31st, 2008. Yes, we can.

Sunday, July 27th, 2008. Keep on burning.
I like the idea of Tina prancing and the the Ikettes pulsating and gyrating at each recovery.
I shall leave the rest to your imagination.
Saturday, July 26th, 2008. Highland Games.
Cailean Macleod sent me this report issued on July 22nd, by the Press Office of The Maritime & Coastguard Agency. Here there is a delightful excerpt:
Missing Canoeist turns up wrestling at Highland Games.
From midday today Clyde Coastguard have been coordinating the search and rescue of a man after his single seat red slalom canoe was located 100 yards offshore near a fish farm at Cairndow on Loch Fyne near Inveraray. The paddles were nearby.
The first public spirited informant reported innocently to have seen the missing man paddling from one side of the Loch to the other and seemingly attempting to return. After that, when he looked again some time later, the man had disappeared.
A mayday signal was immediately broadcasted into the area alerting other vessels users to anyone in the water. Various vessels responded and began to proceed towards the area. Members of various Coastguard Rescue Teams were immediately sent to the area and the local Rnli inshore lifeboat was also asked to launch. Rescue 177 from Prestwick was also scrambled, and the search concentrated on the area between Dunderave Point and the north end of the Loch.
By 2.10 this afternoon, working on information gleaned locally, the police tracked the missing man who was due to be involved in a scheduled wrestling match at the Highland Games in Inveraray, and he was politely reunited with his canoe by the Coastguard.
Calum Murray, the watch manager of Clyde Coastguard commented that it would appear that the man who is not local - neither a total stranger, one would say - had been tipped out of his canoe whilst some way from the shore and had swum back to shore leaving his canoe and paddles drifting in the middle of the Loch which seems to us a little odd. He had then gone to the Highland Games in Inveraray to take part in a wrestling match.
Life in the Highlands.
Monday, July 21s, 2008. Angel.
After the shipping law examinations, the port authority held a pleasant graduation banquet. Strangely, my suggestion to drink ourselves blind and then sneak with energetic vulgarity into the harbour hoodlums for some heavy whoring was met with expressions of censure. This seemed a complete non sequitur to me. Evidently, I am the only graduate who is a sailor at heart, and I am certain that shipowners will duly appreciate it in time.
As too much study was beginning to sap my paddling anima, I threw myself happily into a weekend of indulgent paddling. I started trying the angel roll. There was little of smooth, swaying serenity. The general impression was of mild ineptitude as I understood when the uninitiated audience of bathers began shepherding off their women and children away from me, but it is already there. I shall give myself all of August to make it.
It is worthy: Here, you perform angel and hand rolls, and you are a refrigerator magnet.











