For much of last year, kayaking enthusiasts around the world were keeping tabs on Wave Vidmar, who said he was planning to kayak from California to Hawaii â€" totally alone and unsupported. The 48-year-old Mr. Vidmar expected the journey over the rolling Pacific Ocean would take between 45 and 65 days. And the 3,100-mile odyssey would rank among the longest of its kind, if successful.
When I interviewed Mr. Vidmar by phone in July for this Global Athlete column, I was safely grounded, sipping a cool drink at my hotel's swimming pool overlooking the Singapore marina, way over on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. From my vantage point, the seas looked calm, but I was well aware that the waters between Mr. Vidmar and myself were anything but. And that turned out to be just the case.
Mr. Vidmar said this week via Facebook that, after much delay, he had discreetly launched his voyage o n Dec. 24, only to make an emergency call some 24 hours later for a rescue after storms began flooding his kayak.
A spokesman for the U.S. Coast Guard, Lieutenant Junior Grade Mark Leahey, wouldn't name names but confirmed that the Guard had rescued a sleep-deprived, Hawaii-bound kayaker on Christmas evening some 15 nautical miles off Bodega Bay. That's the town north of San Francisco that film buffs will remember as the setting of Alfred Hitchock's 1963 film, The Birds. Mr. Vidmar said that the $10,000 kayak, along with all its supplies, sank as it was towed back to shore. (For a look at the boat, check out this newscast).
Mr. Vidmar told me by phone this week that he still plans to make the journey in the spring or summer, but he'll have to do it without the help of his sponsor, Seaward Kayaks. The two have gone their separate ways. “The final chapter of the 2012 Seaward Pacific Expedition with Wave Vidmar has now been written, albeit with an ending we didn't foresee,†the company said in this statement.
When I first spoke to Mr. Vidmar last year, my most pressing question was: Are you afraid? “I'm definitely scared,†Mr. Vidmar told me. “There are times that I realize this is not a small undertaking.â€
He later blogged on the Huffington Post under the headline, “I'm Kayaking from San Fran to Hawaii and Yeah, I'm Scared.†“When it comes to fear, it's all relative,†he wrote. “What one person may be afraid of, another may find satisfying or enjoyable, and vice versa. Me, I've been afraid to have children, I'd much rather do battle with a polar bear. Most people aren't a fraid of having children; who's more brave?â€
Mr. Vidmar was supposed to launch the weekend my article initially appeared. I touched base with him regularly for an update on that and subsequent delays. Each time he spoke of equipment or electrical problems. Then he popped up in my Facebook news feed tagged in a photo at a class reunion when I thought he would be at sea. I wondered if he had chickened out.
I would certainly understand if he had. One of the last big attempted kayak ocean crosses ended in failure. In 2007, the Australian Andrew McAuley set out to cross the Tasman Sea from Tasmania to New Zealand, but died in the undertaking. I'm personally haunted by a scene in the video documentary “Solo: Lost at Sea†as Mr. McAuley paddles out to ocean, weeping as he left behind his wife and young son.
About 25 years ago, Ed Gillet completed a slightly shorter version of the solo California-to-Hawaii trip, the only person known to have succeeded. Mr. Gillet has since retreated from the public eye.
A reader, Heidi Tiura, got in touch with me with the following e-mail (slightly edited for clarity) that perhaps gives some insight into the psychology of people like Mr. Vidmar and Mr. Gillet:
My husband, Steph Dutton, paddled a sea kayak from Canada to Mexico. Every day, he broke out through the surf, and at the end of an average of 30 nautical miles, surfed in to shore. The punishment was in those launchings and landings; sea kayaks are not really designed for surf. Imagine the misery! Most people can't sit in a kayak for an hour, much less all day.
Steph knows Ed Gillet and they share traits. Solo paddlers take on these expeditions for all kinds of reasons, many quite personal. It's not real surprising Ed has turned inward. For Steph, the expeditions gave him great insights to himself, and set him apart in a way that leaves little in common with most folks.
What makes adventurers tick? Do they take unnecessary risk?
