Leaves are falling, frost is on the ground each morning, but that doesn’t mean we winterize our gear til next spring. There’s plenty of great winter fun to be had on the water for the next four months. Whether you’re punching through the bar at Oregon Inlet to throw poppers at giant bluefins, setting longlines for canvasbacks in a snowstorm, deep into your backing on a buffalo albie in a Cape Lookout nor’easter, or dredging scud bugs in the Snake River while the rest of Teton County shreds the slopes, you need to have an awareness of the risk of hypothermia, gear to manage the risk, and a survival plan to execute should it become necessary .
Simply put, hypothermia is the lowering of your core body temperature below 95F. I won’t go into the fine details on the different stages, symptoms, and corresponding body temperatures, but once you get wet in cold weather, your survival clock starts ticking. Water conducts heat much more efficiently than air. You can enjoy a 55 degree day in two layers, but 55 degree water will kill you in an hour or so. There’s plenty of literature on specific first aid treatment for hypothermia, so I won’t rehash that here. I do hope to provide a guide to that intermediate period between cold exposure and treatment where you can be an active part of your own recovery.
The first step to surviving hypothermia is avoiding an immersion altogether. As mentioned earlier, you make generally survive a long time in cold weather if you’re properly dressed and dry, but as soon as you get wet, that all changes. So plan on staying dry to enjoy your day! Know your vessel’s capability in all wind and wave conditions by testing during warm weather. Understand the day’s forecast and make a plan to be off the water before conditions deteriorate. Consult real-time data sources whenever possible. NOAA maintains an excellent buoy network showing live wind speed, wave height, water temperature, and air temperature readings at a number of inshore and offshore locations (www.ndbc.noaa.gov). Similar live stations offer temperature and wind readings for inland areas, and USGS has streamflow data for a number of rivers and creeks.
Along with staying on top of the environmental conditions, make sure you’re monitoring yourself. Often in the heat of the moment, we put safety on the back burner. A little bit of caution will keep you dry and still having a good time. Wear appropriate deck shoes to avoid slipping off the foredeck when launching a cast to a striped bass boil. Balance the load in your skiff so when your buddy’s overeager dog leaps to retrieve a duck, he doesn’t capsize you. Before you wade across that side channel to get to that awesome looking hole, use a wading staff so you can safely determine the depth and not top your waders.
The next step to avoiding hypothermia is having the necessary gear to survive an immersion if it happens. First of all, wear your life vest, and if the boat is underway, wear a kill cord! Being able to return to your vessel is a game changer in a survival situation. If a wave tossed you but your vessel remains right side up, survival is as simple as climbing back on board and going home. Big caveat – that’s only possible if your life jacket is there to help you withstand the initial shock of entering cold water, and if the boat actually stops once you fall out. These two items are huge in tilting the odd in your favor in a survival situation. Too many empty boats have been found with life jackets stowed in a compartment and the kill cord dangling from the throttle.
If you’re in a disabled vessel situation and your mobility is hindered, a ditch bag filled with necessities will get aid to come to you. Consider a personal locator beacon (PLB) or emergency position indicator radio beacon (EPIRB). These devices are registered to your person or your vessel, and send out a distress signal from anywhere on the globe. They’re a great option for when you’re out of cell service, or your cell phone is dead due to water damage. A satellite phone will also enable communication from anywhere on the globe, and they’re usually waterproof. Flares and a mirror can help alert nearby vessels, aircraft, or passers-by to your exact position. This is especially useful for hunters, who are usually in a boat and clothing designed to blend in. A space blanket and some packaged highly caloric food can help you keep your core temperature up while you wait for help. Keep all this equipment in a floating bag that’s easy to grab in an emergency. It’s no use keeping your ditch bag in the very bottom of a crowded compartment; you may only have seconds to grab it and go. If your vessel is large enough, and you routinely take trips well away from shore, a self-deploying life raft is a lifesaving alternative to treading water. If you don’t have a raft, try to use any floatsam or debris to get your body out of the cold water. Rose was out of the water on the floating door and survived; Jack was in the water hanging onto the door and did not. Be like Rose and get out of the damn water.
Staying warm following an unwanted immersion in cold weather is greatly enhanced by having access to dry clothes. I keep a spare set of clothes in a dry-bag, including long underwear top and bottom, a shirt, socks, pants, gloves, and fleece balaclava. These can serve as a dry primary and secondary layer in the event I get wet, and wet synthetic outer layers can go overtop these in order to get home. The bag isn’t much bigger than a basketball, and weighs hardly nothing. It’s also easily portable, so after the morning duck hunt, I can yank it out of the kayak and throw it in the center console to go chase late season rockfish.
Step three is being able to execute a survival plan, especially as hypothermia sets in and mobility and cognitive ability become impaired. Quickly assess your ability to get to a warm place. If you can easily get home soon, forgo the change of clothes and make a beeline for that fireplace. If you think it could be awhile, get into your warm clothes, assess your mobility and communication options, and proceed accordingly. In a scenario where your vessel still works or you can still walk, notify anyone you can using sat phone, VHF radio, or cell phone, and proceed carefully homeward, always monitoring your condition. If you’re not able to enact a self-rescue, activate your beacon, utilize any other means of communication, and make yourself visible to passers by or search and rescue teams.
Controlled testing of cold weather clothing and safety gear is essential to being ready in the event of a real emergency. If you wear waders, either neoprene for duck hunting or Gore-Tex for trout fishing, learn what happens when they fill with water. Grab a buddy and take a plunge during the summer, and get used to the feeling of swimming in a bag of water. It’s an old wives tale that waders fill with wader and sink you. The water inside is no heavier than the water you’re bobbing in. They do greatly restrict movement, and they do get incredibly heavy once you try to stand up or climb back into your skiff. Get used to it in the warm weather, then try again in a controlled environment in cold weather. Also, consider using a kayaking dry-top overtop your waders; the neoprene gussets will keep the bulk of the water out.
Get in the habit of following through on maintaining the other safety gear. Make sure you can access your ditch bag, and that your EPIRB/PLB battery is good, and the registration is current. Keep your flares fresh as required by USCG regulations. Inspect life jackets to make sure the floatation works and the straps aren’t dry-rotted. Send your raft off to be re-packed at the factory at the recommended interval. A float plan left with a spouse or friend can also help get aid to you if you don’t check in at a predetermined time. When I fish or hunt alone, I use Google Maps to drop a pin for the boat ramp or parking area I plan to use, and the spots I plan to go to. It’s super easy to send this to my wife, and it would be easy for her to send to emergency personnel instead of trying to describe which unnamed marshy creek I planned to hunt.
Don’t let the time of year or location deceive you. I was in the Bahamas in January 2018 at the same time the ‘bomb cyclone’ dumped snow all over the East Coast. The temperature in the tropics was in the mid 60s, the winds were a steady 20 knots, and the water on the shallow bonefish flats was much cooler than normal. Hypothermia under the palm trees was certainly a possibility. Each year in April it seems that a kayaker perishes on the Bay on the first 70 degree day of spring, forgetting the water is still likely in the 50s. I’ve even been caught shivering in an intense August thunderstorm that produced a sudden temperature drop, 40 knot gusts and driving rain.
Lastly, in very cold water, hypothermia is often not the true cause of death. The initial shock of falling into cold water can trigger drowning through the panicked inhalation of water. I enjoy a polar plunge on my birthday in mid-December, partly for the thrill and partly to remind myself what it’s like to be a penguin. Teach yourself to survive the initial onslaught of cold water immersion, then rely on your equipment and preparation to survive the next several hours until you’re safely warm and dry again.
About five years ago, I survived a full immersion on a late December duck hunt. I downed a pair of canvasbacks at first light, and on my way to retrieve them, I took a bad step out of the blind and into 45-degree water, and suddenly changed the trajectory of my day. With a fried cell-phone, I was on my own. I didn’t waste valuable time picking up five dozen decoys; instead, I left them out knowing I could get them later. Knowing that my clock was ticking, I reasoned that I could get to a warm shower quicker if I bypassed the boat ramp and my truck, and headed straight for the shoreline near my house. I don’t live on the water, but it’s a quick walk across a neighbor’s yard to some much needed warmth. Thankfully, it did not fatally change the trajectory of my life, and I’m here today to tell you to be prepared for the worst.