Sunday, February 11th, 2007. A class act.
I launched again in the weekend to my immense gratification and fulfillment. The television stations had been broadcasting their conjectures of force six winds with lashing gusts with the usual intense sense of doom. Instead, the winds failed to reach force five and the sea conditions were mild, just as foresighted in the hourly predictions of WindGuru.
As a result of the wind predictions, I had for myself a sizeable piece of the Mediterranean and precious few, anglers scattered on a headland. I set off in southern course, against a steady headwind over gentle swells, and veered toward the cliffs as I crossed the headland. What moderate reflecting waves I came across, the Nordkapp ate them as if insipid hors douvres.
Reaching the beach that lays before the harbour, I found a low but long and fast wave train whose crests failed to collapse, being superseded by the winds. I rode the waves and practised my first torque turns in these benefic conditions, turning the kayak with the feet and abdominal muscles as I leaned with my blade buried in the crests behind me. This manoeuvre certainly procures long rides.
As a befitting celebration, I engaged in hand rolls in deep water for the first time. It worked too. Far from raising a cohort of faithful myrmidons who would carry out my orders without question, I am going to be detested intensely for it, as it my design to brag about it endlessly in the kayak club reunions.
After the ritual rinsing and thorough cleaning of boat and equipment, I switched on my computer and voilà, the indispensable Cailean Macleod unveiled to me the draft of the new star award syllabus with contain most interesting features to me. First, the assessment includes now an open crossing of a minimum of 5 nautical miles.
Second, although the training prior to the assessment, must provide at least three days of logged experience of formal training in personal skills, leadership, incident management, safety and rescue; five days is considered normally more appropriate. Knowing the British clever knack for understatements, the meaning is manifest: Unless you are a Royal Navy commando first sergeant with certified underwater demolition experience, less than five days of training will bring to your assessor a burning feeling of shame.
Third, candidates are expected to perform first aid in the five star environment.
Finally, the candidates are expected to be conversant with etiquette. I keep a high ground here. I have every intention to wear a diabolical monocle and a dotted silk scarf during the assessments to come. These symbols of civility, I expect the assessors to like very much. I would not be surprised if the signs of patrician male bonding allow to brush aside minor mistakes of fastidious navigation or leadership failures such as sipping cognac from my silver flask as some tidal stream sweeps out my Guinea pigs to the Lofoten Island.
It is all about rakish style and quiet courage.
[Ignacio Wenley Palacios]
in Touring
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