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miscellanea
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Revolutions in my paddling
BackgroundI've been kayaking for over a quarter of a century now. I started with K1 racing and added sea kayaking, plus a bit of wave skiing. When I raced I sometimes won, when I paddle at sea I can paddle far and fast, and I still keep those fit young K1 buddies under pressure. I instruct, occasionally, in paddling technique. A few years ago I started getting pain in my right shoulder after long days in the kayak. It first became a problem in the 2007 trip to the Ammassalik area of East Greenland with Paul Caffyn, when I had to lower my stroke during the day and sling my arm in the evenings to relieve the pain. Returning in 2008 to tackle the east coast from Ammassalik around the south point, I took Greenland paddles as a spare, because they're better suited to a low stroke than my wings. I didn't use them much on the east coast as I was unused to them and their lack of feather, and relied on my trusty feathered wings for open and ice-strewn parts, where instinctive reactions might be (and were) needed. But I used the Greenland paddles for most the west coast once we'd rounded into calmer seas. In late 2008, back home in Titahi Bay, the shoulder problem only got worse, to the point that I couldn't trust my right arm to react as it should, which curtailed the more adventurous paddles. I was still kayaking, but in short stints of under an hour or so, as the problem only manifested itself on longer trips. On the advice of a well-respected physio, who diagnosed a weak right rotator cuff (the muscles that stabilise and keep the ball of the arm in the socket of the shoulder blade), I'd stretch rubber bands to the point of extreme muscle burn and boredom. I had tied the band to a Pohutukawa tree at my Titahi Bay home, and did my penance looking out across Cook Strait and dreaming of kayaking out there again. I even started researching small sailing craft, as that I feared might be my lot. Revolution 1 - My bodyThe rubber band did nothing for my shoulder. After over a year of that, out of desperation, I tried an osteopath (one who had rebuilt a friend of mine after an Australian dropped him off a climbing wall). That was interesting and useful in itself, but the best advice he gave me was to try Pilates and Feldenkrais, which I immediately did, with some massage as well. Pilates was fun, doing gymnastics in odd positions surrounded by lithe girls. But it achieved nothing, and is now abandoned. Feldenkrais is weird. You do slow, exploratory movements in odd positions surrounded by a more representative group of women. The amazing thing is that Feldenkrais works so powerfully - after an easy hour one can emerge with a noticeably improved posture or way of movement, such that you can't even recreate your previous bad habit. I've been so impressed by Feldenkrais that I'm now training to be a practitioner, to get more exposure to its benefits, and to understand how it is so effective (end of advert). In my years of paddling I've continually evolved and refined my paddling technique, and I've been amazed at how an act as visually simple as paddling has so many subtleties. What's amazed me even more is that over the last two years the evolution in my technique has accelerated to the point of revolution. What I've really learned is not about the externals of the technique - the path that my paddle takes is basically the same - but rather the internals, how I use my body as an integrated whole rather than a set of connected parts. If I can ever think how to explain this effect in words, there'll be another article. Meanwhile, I'll talk about the other, external revolutions that are much easier to verbalise. Revolution 2 - My featherMy fundamental problem I eventually came to understand was not the rotator cuff per se, but a wider imbalance in my posture, that amongst other things caused me to raise my right shoulder when reaching forward. The rotator cuff was the symptom, not the cause: it's the victim that screams, not the perpetrator. I could have done physio forever - it would have made as much difference to my shoulder as to the Pohutukawa. Through the Feldenkrias method I eliminated my asymmetries in movement and the shoulder naturally returned to normal, efficient functioning. But of course I also had to eliminate the asymmetries in my life, or my bad habits would resurface and the rotator cuff would scream again. So, finally, to the main point of this story: One left-right asymmetry is in the feather of the paddle. I don't know how many miles, strokes and wrist twists I had accumulated on right-feathered paddles in decades of active paddling, but it must add up to a fair few. And with my newly acquired knowledge of movement anatomy, I knew that while up-down wrist-twists can be managed by the forearm, if you add a left-right twist as one must in paddling it activates in the shoulder muscles. Try now twisting your wrist in a feathering motion (an up-down wrist movement, combined with an internal rotation, while extending the arm) and feel how the shoulder movement differs from an extension without the feathering action. My first thought was to change to a left-feathered paddle. Surely if I paddled for the next quarter century with one of those, I would be full unwound. So I did that, in K1 and sea kayak. I had plenty of near misses with fluffed support strokes, but managed to my surprise to stay upright, for which I was especially glad as this was mid-winter. But, I got to thinking, why feather the blade at all? From a long-term perspective, using an unfeathered paddle would avoid any risk of developing asymmetries in either direction. The classic reason for feathering one's paddle is that the forward stroke cuts sideways through the air, minimising air resistance. This is true, and is advantageous on still days or in a head wind. But it also means that the top blade is side on and gets caught by side winds - the technically trickiest winds - and that you miss the push of tail winds. So I un-feathered my paddles and was surprised at how fast it was to get used to, certainly compared to shifting to the opposite feather. While symmetry was the main benefit for me, a strong secondary benefit was to ease the transition between wind and Greenland paddles, as I planned to continue my Greenland tactic of taking both to enjoy muscular and technical variety. Feathered paddles are by no means universal in sea kayaking, but they are the norm, and in kayaking racing I can't recall ever seeing unfeathered paddles used in recent times (myself now excluded). For example, Derek Hutchison in his Complete book of sea kayaking has a paragraph on left or right-hand control, but no mention of the unfeathered option, and neither does his Guide to expedition kayaking. All his fine pictures show feathered paddles (apart for the few Greenland paddles of course). On the other hand, John Dowd has a long and mature discussion on To feather or not to feather, and finds it a wonder that feathered paddles ever became popular at all. That fellow Conrad Edwards in the KASK handbook recommends trying both feathered and unfeathered paddles, a flawless conclusion that I had forgotten about had to re-discover myself. With experience using the unfeathered wing, and enjoying its many advantages, I even began to doubt the conventional wisdom that it is a material disadvantage in head winds. The reason is that you are not just pushing the feathered top blade against the air, you are levering it, with your lower hand and immersed blade as the fulcrum. This is mechanically a third class lever like a spade. A spade is powerful because your handle hand acts as a fulcrum - imagine digging one handed! Testing in the Wellington winds, I became convinced that the effort of pushing your paddle into a headwind is illusory - not the effort, but the cause, which is pulling the area of your body through the wind, not the relatively small and well levered blade. <Picture 1> Through my six months of use, I started counting the advantages, from practical experience:
So I now use an unfeathered paddle exclusively. On the basis that it's unwise to keep switching between different feathers, as your support-stroke reaction might be 90� out just when you most need it, I�ve gone cold turkey on this. As well as my main paddle, I�ve unfeathered by spare blades and my shorter waveski paddle too. In for a penny! There is a potential disadvantage to unfeathered paddles, which is in punching through surf, as the forward blade will enter the wave front less gracefully. I�ve used my unfeathered waveski paddle in moderate surf without noticing any adverse impacts, but I haven�t yet tested my unfeathered kayak paddle in big surf. Revolution 3 � A crank shaftI�ve always thought that crank shafts must be more efficient, as the shaft is bent such that towards the critical catch and forward part of your stroke, it lines up better with your hand, so you get a firmer grip and rely less on your first finger or two. At the KASK forum in Anakiwa in 2005 I tried for the first time a Lendal Kinetic wing paddle with a crank shaft, and was immediately taken with the elegance and power of combination. In 2006 I decided to take the plunge, spent 2007 trying to order a paddle from Lendal (unsuccessfully as they were busy restructuring themselves) and in 2008 bought Alan�s demo paddle that I�d first used. As if that wasn�t delay enough, they then lay around in my shed for two years because while I was busy trying to sort out my shoulder I didn�t want to add to my body�s confusion by changing blades and shaft. The other reason for the last delay was my nervousness in having to slice up expensive gear to get all the variables just right � distance between the cranks as well as overall length, and angle of the blades to crank, as well as the feather between the cranks and hence the blades. In early 2010 (before my mid 2010 unfeathering revolution) I bit the bullet, and through judicious use of a hacksaw and John Brown�s trick of a hot glue gun to temporarily fix the joints, I gradually fine-tuned the paddles until they were just the configuration for me � a gradual process over many months � that continued through my transition to unfeathered paddles. <Picture 2> The scary bit of paddle adjustment Cutting crank shaft to length needs to be done at middle and both ends, as position of the cranks as well as overall length matters. Then, figure out how to drill the new locking hole (here the Lendal Padlock system) in just the right place. Then, same again for each blade to shaft connection. An interesting finding was that when feathered, crank shafts amplify the left-right asymmetry as the hand the doesn�t feather (usually the left) pushes against the bulge of the crank, but the hand that does feather doesn�t � it pushes sideways onto the bulge, as illustrated below. <Picture 3a, 3b> I was surprised at the extra length. I�d paddled with 221cm wings for decades (K1 and sea kayak), and am sensitive to the tiniest difference in length. To my amazement, I found that with crankshafts my preferred length increased to 226cm. The reason is that with a crank the hand position is off the centre-line of the shaft, so at the catch the shaft is ahead of the hand and the blade angled further forward. This gives you � without any extra effort � an extra reach at the catch. This translates into the blade biting earlier, and hence a longer power phase in the paddle stroke, and a longer lever arm when doing so. The difference for my setup is about 3cm at the shaft of the blade translating into over 4cm at the sharp end, as illustrated above. Advantages of the crank shaft:
Revolution 4 � A next generation bladeThe Kinetic Wing blades themselves are amazing. I�ve always thought that that the straight blade could be improved by adding another dimension through judicious bending, just as a sail is much better curved than flat. The Wing blade does this, and curves the surface in a manner that improves performance. I�ve always thought also that that the judiciously bent blade could be improved by adding a third dimension, just as an aircraft wing is so much more efficient than a hang glider�s (and in my view a formed kayak rudder blade than a flat one). The Kinetic Wing blade does this, and has different curves for the front and back surfaces, in a manner that improves performance again. The Kinetic Wing may not be the ultimate perfect blade � time and innovation will tell � but it is a big evolutionary step in the right direction. (See Sandy�s article �On the wing� in issue 147 of this fine newletter.) Advantages of the Kinetic Wing blade:
The only downside of the Kinetic Wing blades that I�ve discovered (apart from their availability and cost) is that they do not come with an alloy tip option, that I�ve found offers valuable protection to my former wing blades, especially during those tricky landings on trips. The Kinetic Wing blades seem very well made, and survived five weeks paddling around Kyushu with hardly a scratch. Revolution 5 � A rotating seatNot being content with mid-winter experiments with my paddle�s feather, shaft, length and blade, I added a rotating seat to my K1. I live in Ttiahi Bay and paddle mostly from a boat shed I�m lucky enough to own at Onepoto on Porirua Inlet. (Onepoto is home also to the Mana Kayak Racing Club, a rowing club and a waka ama club, as it�s one of the most sheltered boating put-ins around windy Wellington.). For paddles of an hour or so I generally jump in the K1 and takes spins around the inlets or (on dead calm days) around the coast. For longer paddles, I take the Nordkapp of course. But I do still paddle the K1 a lot � perfect for keeping one�s technique honest and support strokes honed. A rotating seat has a horizontal disc of Teflon or similar on which the seat sits, spinning on a central spindle, making its rotation almost frictionless. This makes it really tricky to get into the boat off the jetty, as the seat invariably twists when you get it: you try adjusting your butt on a slippery seat in a wobbly K1! However, once you�re eventually settled and off, the rotating seat is superb � the kayaking movement becomes a truly full body motion, more like running than walking, or like the difference in power that one gets when standing while cycling. Like a cycle, it�s best if you strap your feet into the K1 too (you slip them under a loop or bar) so that you can pull as well as push. <Picture 4> There are no knee brace points in a K1, so your only points of contact are your strapped in feet and the dubious contact of bum on a frictionless seat, which adds no end to the excitement. This makes, at my K1 skill level at least, the boat rather over-lively in a side-on chop, so much so that I had an interesting OBE off the Titahi Bay coast last year. Interesting, because it�s quite unnerving having no ability to control the boat at all. Post OBE (and lots of pondering on how to do it) I made a locking contraption that allows me to turn the rotation on an off while paddling. This allows me to do elegant jetty launches in full public view, but also provides a panic device in case I see the dreaded side-on chop coming. But the most illuminating advantage is one that I hadn�t conceived beforehand: by turning rotation from no to whoah while paddling, you can really appreciate the extra power that releasing the hip movement provides. <Picture 5> In the Norkapp (which has a bucket seat as well as an ideal hull) I use a small Thermarest pad to sit on. I recall many years ago extolling all the virtues of this to Paul, who doesn�t. My soliloquy was almost as long as Gubba�s uses of shrimps in Forrest Gump . But now I realise that didn�t extol the biggest virtue of all, as I�ve only recently become conscious of it: the Thermarest pad, by virtue of its inner foam sandwich, provides an effective proxy to a rotating seat by allowing greater hip rotation than a more solid seat or cushion would. I found this unattributed text on www.flatwaterkayaking.com, and it expresses the issue well: �Torso rotation means basically that you rotate your body from the waist. However, sprint and marathon paddlers rotate below the waist. They rotate on the seat using leg push on the active paddle side and often sit on a rotating seat. Almost all but the well trained sprint and marathon k-1 paddlers DO NOT rotate no matter how much they think they do. It's easy to fool yourself, but if you are not spinning back and forth on the seat you are not rotating in the method that delivers a real power to the stroke that comes from the legs. Push the boat forward via the bottoms of one foot at a time and not from the seat of your butt. The reason for using torso rotation is that the torso muscles are large. These are capable of working for long periods of time generating large amounts of work.� In teaching rotation, I used to teach pointing the sternum of the chest 45� right and left from centreline with the paddle stroke, until I realised that students were achieving this by rotating from the spine not the hips. Now I teach to point the belly button, which forces engagement of the hips, which can only be achieved by pushing from the feet, and rotating your pelvis and sitting bones on the seat. The rotating seat lets one fully develop that motion, which makes the body movement translate better into sea kayaking. Plus, it�s really good fun, at least until that side-on chop arrives. I still scheming on how to incorporate a better rotating seat arrangement than a Thermarest pad into my trusty Nordkapp. SummaryIn summary, after a quarter century of active paddling, using almost exclusively a straight-shaft, a right-hand feather and wing blades, I have recently made what is for me a revolutionary change to an unfeathered crankshaft with Kinetic wings. I unfeathered my paddle to recover from and avoid injury, but have become addicted to the many other advantages it offers. I believe that technically cranks shafts are superior to straight, if carefully set up, and have discovered that the advantages of a crank are multiplied when unfeathered. And last of the holy trinity, the Kinetic wing blades are just beautiful through the water. I have fitted a rotating seat to my K1, which liberates the body to learn better the most efficient, full-body engagement, that translates directly into the sea kayak. Most remarkably I�ve entirely changed the way I think about and pursue the motion of paddling, internally: a journey that�s still unfolding for me. It�s wonderful that the learning process is never-ending. Conrad Edwards July 2011 |