The pleasures of sea-kayaking are often tranquil ones. Cruise solo along the Na Pali Coast, for example, and you’ll become lost in your own lush paradise. But such idyllic serenity lasts only so long. Soon you’re likely to find yourself indulging in “lower” seaborne pleasures: crashing through head-high surf, abandoning your boat to skinny-dip, matching wits with a sperm whale.
Indeed, sea-kayaking is the most versatile of outdoor sports. The boats can haul twice the gear of a backpack, glide as effortlessly as a snowboard, and thrill like a luge. As a rank beginner you can dink around a sheltered harbor watching birds and seals. Learn self-rescue skills plus tidal navigation and you can head offshore to go island-hopping for the weekend. Eventually you’ll be ready to explore the most remote coastlines for a month or more—quite often using the same boat you started with.
But since you can’t embark on an expedition every time you paddle, it’s important that the boat you choose be entertaining for the short haul as well. To that end, we tested a host of models and picked the exemplars of four signal sea-kayaking virtues: capaciousness, zip, ease of use, and portability. We’ve also selected the utmost appropriate gear for each boat. What’s left to be done? Well, deciding exactly how you want to go about chasing Eden. Rough duty.
If paddling straight offshore to meet a sunrise sounds like fun only if you can do it at racing speed, meet the Ferrari of sea kayaks. The Eddyline Falcon 18 ($2,549) is a lean 18 feet by 21 inches, with a needlelike bow that parts water faster than Moses. It accelerates and holds speed effortlessly; I was able to maintain five knots—nearly a jogging pace—for miles at a time. There’s 20 percent less volume here than in the Sitka, creating far less drag, yet there’s enough luggage space for a comfortable week’s tour.
The Falcon is not for the novice pilot because unlike wider kayaks, it can tip easily. Still, the snug cockpit and perfectly placed thigh braces allow pinpoint control. The experienced paddler can make the Falcon track straight through conditions that would send day sailors running for safe harbor, though the sharp bow and finlike extension of the stern that keep it tracking true also make for balky turning.
You’d be missing the point to propel a boat like the Falcon with a low-performance paddle, so try Eddyline’s own Graphite Mid Swift, which is a gossamer 28 ounces (albeit a weighty $365; don’t use it for digging clams). The medium-wide blade affords plenty of power and a generous area for bracing, while offering little wind resistance.
For athletic kayaking, you don’t want a constricting dry suit or even a wet suit if the water isn’t frigid. Instead, try thermal stretch garments like those from Rapidstyle ($72 shorts to $139 bodysuits): cozy pile lines a stretchy waterproof-breathable shell. You can protect your hands and feet with Northwest River Supplies Crew Gloves ($15) and Perception’s Low Riders booties ($34). Their thin neoprene provides a modicum of warmth without sacrificing dexterity. The Kajak Sport spray skirt ($65) from Finland has a light and pliant nylon construction, and a thick PVC coating renders it leakproof. Likewise, the narrow shoulder straps on the Stohlquist Mobius PFD ($85) stay well out of the way during desperate braces. Watertight Otter Boxes ($17-$25) will protect your camera, picnic supplies, or whatever else you might carry on a race up the coast.
Visiting the best sea-kayaking spots often involves a daunting first step. Namely, getting your boat there. The cost of shipping, especially for a dream trip to, say, the fjords of Chile, can exceed the value of your vessel. Skirt the airline fees with a kayak that disguises itself as luggage. The Feathercraft K1 Expedition ($3,940) travels as a single 50-pound backpack guaranteed to slip past baggage check unnoticed. At the launch site, put together its aluminum-alloy and high-density polyethylene frame, wedge it into the taut, urethane/nylon skin, and—Shazam!—you’ve got a seaworthy ride in about 30 minutes. No tools required.
At 16.5 feet by 25 inches, the K1 mimics the handling characteristics of hard-shell touring boats. It’s reassuringly stable, yet easily rocked to brace against side-waves. The nylon sling seat is extremely comfortable, the nylon spray skirt comes with the boat, and the upturned bow prevents small waves from slapping your chest. To top it off, the K1 has cargo hatches—previously unheard-of among folding kayaks—so you can reach stowed gear without blindly groping from the cockpit.
The lack of bulkheads allows a lot of frigid bilgewater into a swamped folder, so your dry bags have to serve as storage and backup flotation. I’ve never seen better bags than the ZipDry duffels from Watershed; they’re frighteningly expensive ($70 for the smallest size) but worth every penny if you’re capsized. For those hypothermia-prone digits, slip into Northwest River Supplies neoprene Paddlers Gloves ($30) and Chota’s neoprene MK100 Mukluks ($72), whose knee-high uppers let you make most landings and launchings with dry feet. The Gore-Tex Meridian dry suit ($679) from Kokatat insulates superbly over a fleece layer and a front-entry zipper makes donning the suit less an act of contortionism.
The Lotus Designs Strait Jacket PFD ($115) is not nearly as constricting as you might guess from its name, thanks to huge armholes. A web loop holds a knife and two pockets suffice for flares and the Garmin 12 ($232)—a nearly intuitive GPS whose display charts your course and speed. As for a suitable paddle, the four-piece Werner Little Dipper ($285) has narrow blades that won’t whip around like an albatross in the wind, and it breaks down into sub-two-foot sections. Heck, it’s carry-on size.