Been using the maple tree, that I see across the street as I sit here, as my wind sock. Seems to be a very loose predictor of wind-- time to find another tree.
Magooch-- we enjoy riding the swells the 1000fters make as they pass by. Nice and leisurely, a bit like a rocking chair on a porch. The “sport” boats and wave runner wake— not so much.
Too windy is when you overindulge in chili con carne.
@string said:
Too windy is when you overindulge in chili con carne.
True for sure, but it normally doesn’t create much of a disturbance of the water. I once knew a very pharte smeller who used to light those things for laughs. Started a bit of a brush fire in his nether region. After that he found other methods of entertaining himself.
@RussSeese said:
That day happened 4 years ago and remains the only time I ever went out for a paddle and never took the kayak off the car. It was the right call, but it still bugs me.
Good judgement comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgement.
Sounds like you’ve made it through.
That call may still bug you…but I have a friend who used to fly Coast Guard Rescue out of Sitka, and he would have been bugged to get the call to go rescue you. 
When you feel unsecure you know it’s to windy for YOU.
“I had that happen while I was still paddling forward.”
Where is the laugh emoji?
I can laugh about it now, but not at the time. 
At least as an open canoe paddler, if you’re going against a head wind, if you’ve already switched to a bent shaft paddle, changed over to “hit and switch” paddling, upped your cadence to where you’re starting to feel like you’re imitating an egg beater, and all the while trying to look backward over your shoulder to make sure you’re not going to hit something upstream: get the h___ to shore, preferably in the lee of something. That’s way too windy.
Usually on a river you’re dancing with the current. Often on a lake you’re dancing with the wind, sometimes “ferrying” on it.
On a river in a cross wind I try to stay to the leeward shore if its windy enough to matter. If there are islands, hopping from the lee of one and fighting the wind to the lee of the next can be a useful strategy. On a lake I’ll often hug the lee shore as well, but with the awareness that if I get blown out into bigger waves and stronger winds it might be hard to get back and that you and your stuff will be blown “out to sea” if you capsize out there. There’s some wisdom in possibly braving the waves (if they aren’t too big to safely take broadside) of the windward shore so that if you do swamp you and your stuff will be blown to shore; that’s assuming the shore isn’t all cliffs. On occasion I’ve paddled to a landing on a windward lake shore by hugging the opposite leeward shore and then, when directly upwind of my destination, turning and making a downwind run to my objective with the following waves, some of which can help a little if you can occasionally “surf” a bit on them. Exhilarating.
The first time I tried to solo a newly acquired Prospector downstream empty and against a head wind (under conditions I routinely do in heavily loaded lower volume canoes) I found myself feeling just beat up after about two miles of a nine mile paddle. I discovered that if I sat all the way back on the stern deck plate, the bow of the rockered Prospector stuck up enough out of the water to act like a sail. I just sat there ruddering my way back upstream bouncing off the waves like a motor boat. Necessity is indeed the mother of invention. That was fun.
This is, of course, a bit different from leisurely paddling in rec kayaks, but perhaps some of the tactics and principles could be useful nevertheless. Such is my hope.
That Kenny Rogers song The Gambler pops into my head when the crap gets to be too much!
know when to fold em!
On a chilly day in early October, on the rocky shore of Lake Superior, in a relatively skinny boat I’ve only paddled once, solo, without anyone knowing exactly where I am, this is too windy.
In my Stratos, I’d go out just for some fun. 
Most people over estimate the wind by a lot. Sailors are pretty good at estimating wind speed for the most part. A lot of the answer depends on the fetch, the distance the wind travels over water and its ability to build waves.
In a canoe, paddling becomes unrewarding when it takes maximum effort to make any forward progress. That can happen around 20-25 mph or maybe 30 on more protected water. I have paddled some rivers in a lot of wind, because there was enough current to overcome the force of the wind.
Sea kayaks can handle larger waves, but tides and tidal rips can be troublesome.
When people talk about 9 foot breaking waves and 40 knots, they are either really talented or major league bullshitters. It can be hard to tell.
Some rivers offer a lot of protection from the wind. One time I paddled in wind around 45 mph where it took two folks to hold down the canoe at the put-in. During our paddle we heard three trees break and the water looks like it had fish jumping in it due to small branches coming down everywhere, but the river was protected so it was still pretty easy and enjoyable. I’ve been blown to a stop by wind many times and I’ve learned to wait for lulls in the wind and never fight big gusts since that just burns energy…it’s opposite to paddling upstream and running into fast current where you need to paddle hard to get through it so you don’t burn up energy hanging out in fast current. I recently got caught on an open section of river on a calm say when the remnants of a hurricane arrived and gusts jumped to 40-ish and I struggled just to go about 1/2 mile to get back to the put-in and I was happy to get off the water. Even 20-25 mph is definitely serious wind for canoes. In very strong wind I think tailwinds may be scarier than headwinds.
Absolutely right. And you’re reminding me… I knew some of that schooling stuff would come in handy.
If a person is sitting in camp with their map on a windy day and the wind is at your back, its tempting to just say, “It’ll be easy to get across this lake with the wind at my back. It’ll just blow me right home.” Think again. The further downwind you go the bigger the waves will be and the harder to get back to where you are. How long the winds have been working on the lake is almost as important as how strong the wind is. Was it a calm night or has this wind been blowing for days? Higher wind speed makes waves build quicker but, given enough time, even moderate winds can build big waves.
So, there you sit contemplating whether to try such a longish crossing, Thoughts of work schedules or maintaining a planned meeting on another lake can enter one’s mind. Forget that. Schedules get shot to pieces if you have to deal with a swamped boat, and they’re the least of your potential challenges. This isn’t such an unusual situation on BWCA type trips, but it applies to any open body of water - big rivers, large open waters surrounded by larger marshes, or a lake in the flatlands. With the wind at your back, looking out on a sheltered bit of water, its easy to think, “Well, its not too rough here, I can handle this. Easy peezy.”
But what about at the other end of the lake? Its not all the same, you know.
Needing something to do to pass the time while you’re sitting there looking at the water, its a nice to escape from your troubles to contemplate mathematics. (Huh?)
Hmax= .332F^.05 It’s a nice little formula to remember.
Maximum wave height can be reasonably estimated as .332 X the fetch in km ^.05. So you got something else to do? Get to it. Measure the fetch in km on your map by laying out the distance the wind is blowing over the lake from the direction the wind is blowing. Run that number. Do you want to deal with waves of the height you calculated? If the wind has just started, can you make it across the lake before they get that big? Is it a strong enough wind that the waves will build quickly? There’s some guesswork involved, I know, but not as much as you started with. So how fast can you break camp? Or maybe another pot of coffee is in order…
If you decide to sit it out you’ll want something else to do. In open water wave length is typically ~20Hmax. For what its worth, the depth of the water near shore at which waves break is ~4/3 the wave height. But near shore things sometimes get more complicated by reflexive waves. Just be glad you don’t have to calculate an ocean.
Maybe the coffee is hot by now? Maybe not.
A few summers ago a group of us were launching individually on the Rhode River in Maryland. It was summer with warm water and air temperatures but gale force winds from an off shore tropical storm Looking at conditions and listening to the NOAA forecast I had a very nice 8 mile round trip paddle along the protected shore. Two other people decided to paddle out a bit farther. They ended up in 35-40 knot winds and in spite of all they could do promptly blew across the river into the docks of a marina on the other side. They had to climb over a security fence and beg a ride back to their cars at the launch. Fortunately the waves were not too bad due to the short fetch and mostly shallow water.
So a lot depends on fetch, water depth, and protection from the wind. That’s why we always stress having a plan B if the conditions at the planned launch turn out to be worse than predicted.
A lot of people get into trouble assuming that the conditions at the launch will be the same when they get farther out or round a point.
Hi rstevens15,
I grew up on the Bay. My Dad had a power boat Galesville on West River. We had no air conditioning in those days so we slept on the boat every weekend from May until October. We spent a lot of time in Rhode River. When I turned 12, I spent a week camping on Big Island with some friends and no adults. It is the one with the big eroded cliff on the north end.
The worst waves on the Bay always came with SE winds. Some times they would pile up in shallow water. We ran a lot in storms and at night. My Dad was in the Navy and pretty fearless out there. I would take the wheel, he would navigate, and my brother would be on the bow with a search light looking for debris in the water. Good times. Thanks for reminding me of them.
From experience and observation from a kayaking view:
Schedule adhering is fatal.
Offshore winds are deceiving. More than one person has been killed by an outgoing tide and offshore winds. They do not know they are in trouble until too far out to get back. They try to paddle back and usually exhaustion takes over and with no respite they founder.
You cannot see the direction of the tide from shore unless familiar with tide tables for the area and the flatness of the sea is deceiving. Wind speed does not always correspond with condition of sea you see from shore. Add the vectors of wind speed and tidal current. Math that you ignored in high school can be important
Now take a mild wind and an outgoing tide… the waves will be more formidable appearing but actually more benign as the tidal current and wind will cancel each other.
Tides in the Bay are only 2-3 feet a lot of the time. Tides in Washington State are more like 6-10 feet and 20-25 feet in SE Alaska. Plus the water is cold. Big difference.
Wind opposing tides creates some of the really bad steep waves like at the Columbia Bar.
The more tidal range their is, the more careful paddlers have to be. A dissected coast line with many islands, shoals, bays and inlets makes everything more complicated with a lot more tidal rips to worry about. Once you see the channel buoys under water then you know that the current can be fierce. Some of the bad tidal rips in the West Coast can be 8-12 knots in salt water! Many of them have been blown up with dynamite over the years. I have seen power boats and sail boats have some trouble at Deception Pass in WA if they are not run at slack.
Aye Thomas, t’play eet ba air, tis a fine gadge whenst the wind cooms a houndin’! Boot, soon az 'em drooly tendrils stuart fly’n book ‘n coovrin’ yer eye sookets, yer scrood, man!
Sum times, dat snow she four feet wide, Huh?
My grandfather was from Ontario. He was an illegal immigrant in the US. He used to recite the old poetry in the patter of the Quebecois. This is one of the only lines I remember.
