This week we talked with Hank Bruininks, a Chewonki Trip Leader and sea kayaking guide, about the ebb and flow of a Chewonki trip experience.
“What first drew you to sea kayaking, and how did that initial spark shape your passion for guiding trips?”
To be honest, I kind of became a sea kayaker by accident. Growing up, I spent a lot of time kayaking at my grandparents’ cabin in Minnesota’s Boundary Waters, but I didn’t truly fall in love with sea kayaking until many years later. A couple summers ago, while working at a summer camp on Catalina Island, I had the privilege to sea kayak almost daily along the cliffs and over the kelp forests of the California coast. It was there that I found the passion for sea kayaking that led to me guiding trips for Chewonki. It’s hard to find something better than the feeling of cruising over the ocean’s surface in a kayak with the sun and wind on your face. A day on the water is always a good day in my mind.
“If we were to shadow you on a typical day leading campers, what scenes would I witness from sunrise setup to evening debrief?”
A cool aspect of sea kayaking is that every day is different depending on your route and the timing of the tides. One day you might rise before the sun to time the flow of the tides through a channel, and the next day you could be waking up much later and crossing a stretch of open water with little regard for the tides.
No matter the day, breakfast, lunch, and dinner are the constants that power the group. Campers work with trip leaders to cook breakfast and dinner over camping stoves, while lunch tends to be more on the go – usually on a beach, which never hurts. Following breakfast and breakdown of camp, the sea kayaking begins. Travelling through the bays, channels, and islands left behind by tens of thousands of years of glaciation, you might see an osprey bringing a fish to its young, a seal watching hesitantly from a rock, or a bald eagle soaring overhead. In just one day, you can kayak past a wide variety of scenes – rocky shorelines, mudflats, salt marshes, and sandy beaches line the coast, lobster boats rumble by, and families wave to you from their docks.
Once the group reaches camp, setup begins, and dinner is cooked and devoured. An evening meeting rounds out the structured portion of the day. Evening meetings are often my favorite part of the day on a Chewonki sea kayaking trip. After reviewing the plan for the next day, the group has a chance to be still, be together, and share their reflections on their experience. Sometimes the meetings are focused and meditative, and sometimes they break into smiles, jokes, and laughter. The beauty of evening meetings, just like a day of kayaking, is that every day presents something new and valuable. Once the evening meeting wraps up, people wind down, campers hang out, trip leaders debrief, and soon, it’s time to brush teeth and get some much needed sleep before the sun comes up and the adventure begins anew.
“Can you describe a moment when you had to earn a hesitant camper’s trust on the water? How did you reach them?”
When preparing to go out for a sea kayaking trip, every camper goes through a skills session in which they learn skills such as carrying kayaks, paddling and changing directions, and practicing wet exits. Without fail, wet exits are most camper’s least favorite part of the training. If you haven’t kayaked before, practicing a wet exit consists of paddling a few yards out from shore, flipping your kayak upside down, and swimming out from underneath it. The point of practicing a wet exit is that campers build the skills needed to respond effectively should they flip their kayak out on the water. I won’t lie, I was pretty nervous the first time I tried a wet exit. With the encouragement of the instructors, I summoned the courage to try. I tilted my head out to the left, and soon, I was underwater. Even sooner, I’d popped back up to the surface unscathed and feeling very proud of myself.
For campers staring down their first wet exit, the feelings of fear and hesitation are a normal and healthy part of the process. Last summer, there were many, many campers nervous about overcoming this obstacle. One camper in particular, when it became her turn to try the wet exit, seemed to freeze up when she got in the kayak. Having been in that headspace before, I knew she would be able to overcome the moment with some encouragement. I offered to give her a moment to breathe on the shore while I demonstrated my wet exit again and went over the steps. Take a deep breath, tilt your head to the side, roll, pull your spray skirt, and your PFD will shoot you up to the surface. “You got that for sure,” I told her, “It’s scary the first time you, but if I can do it, if your friends can do it, you can do it too. You got this.” She summoned her courage and got back in the kayak. Again, she froze up. I let her know she’d be okay, “I’m going to be right here next to you just in case, but you can do it, and when you do, you’ll feel so much better.” Her cabinmates cheered her on from the shore, and in a moment, she flipped and popped right back up the surface, a huge smile lighting up her face. Moments like these make Chewonki trips special. Seeing a camper face a challenge in spite of their fear and come out on the other side feeling brave, strong, and proud is a gift to witness.
“Tell us about a time when a camper arrived with huge fears but ended up loving the experience. How did that transformation unfold?”
On the first sea kayaking trip I led last summer, we had a camper who didn’t really enjoy the outdoors when the trip began. Seaweed, bugs, cold water, you name it…she was not a fan. Having grown up in a big city, she wasn’t that familiar with camping and had never sea kayaked before, and who could blame her? On the fourth day of the trip, we had a pretty big challenge on our plates. To get to the next campsite, we’d have to kayak about five miles, and just before reaching the island that was our destination, we’d have to cross a stretch of open water about a mile and a half wide.
The first three days of kayaking were fairly easy going as we wove through the calm waters in the bays surrounding Chewonki Neck. This open water crossing, however, would be the biggest challenge of the trip. The waves were bigger, the water was colder, and the wind was stronger than any stretch of water we’d kayaked up to that point. On that day, nature decided up the challenge with a thick fog that blanketed the crossing in front of us. We waited patiently for the fog to clear, but after nearly half an hour, nothing had changed. I knew we could make the crossing safely as long as we stuck together and followed a compass bearing to our destination just across the channel, but my biggest concern was whether or not the campers would be up for it, especially the aforementioned camper who had been having difficulty adjusting to sea kayaking throughout the week.
I pitched the idea to the group and was met with surprising enthusiasm from everyone, so we decided as a group to go for it. We ventured into the fog and crossed that cold, wavy stretch of water as a tightly knit pod. The whole experience kind of felt like a dream. The fog was so thick we couldn’t see land – the compass in front of me was our sole waypoint. Probably halfway across the channel, about a dozen seal heads popped out of the water to stare at us. Time went by rapidly, and soon enough, we popped out of the fog only a few hundred yards away from our island campsite. It was a surreal experience, like getting shot through a portal to the other side of the channel.
The craziest part of the experience was the mindset of my campers as we made the crossing. Each and every one of them stepped up to the challenge, and though they were afraid, they stayed focused and kept their cool. Every one of them was brimming with joy and excitement after taking on that foggy crossing. That night in our evening meeting, the camper who’d been fighting through fear and uncomfortability all week was as confident as ever. She expressed how proud she was, not just of herself, but of the whole group. Together, we faced our fears and summoned the courage that lay within all of us. I think each and every one of us will remember that crossing for the rest of our lives.
“There’s a balance between keeping things safe and fostering a sense of adventure. How do you strike that balance?”
Honestly, the sense of adventure tends to foster itself on these kinds of trips. As soon as you leave Chewonki and head off to a new place, the adventure begins. For most campers, wherever you go will be their first time experiencing that place, and when you add in the element of a multi-day camping expedition, it’s impossible not to feel like you’re on an adventure. Keeping everyone safe on these trips comes down to a combination of preparation and the ability to evaluate risks on the go. Before a trip leader ever leads a trip for Chewonki, they go through hours and hours of preparation and training designed to equip them with the skills needed to foster an adventure that is both safe and enjoyable. At the end of the day, every trip leader has a different style, but finding the balance between safety and adventure comes down to relying on training and keeping the safety and happiness of campers at the forefront of your mind.
“What do you think the campers see and feel when they’re paddling for the first time? How do you help shape that experience?”
When campers start out with sea kayaking, their first reactions tend to be confusion and uncomfortability. Figuring out how to paddle, steer, and balance is a challenge, but each and every camper figures it out. Once they become more comfortable, campers really start to enjoy the experience. Doing something new will always be hard, but there’s an immense satisfaction that comes with gaining a new skill. My role in that experience is to be a positive and patient instructor. At one point, I was new to sea kayaking too, so I know how it feels to be in their shoes. The best thing I can do for campers is provide a voice of encouragement and support that constantly reminds them they’re capable of much more than they think.
“Leading trips can be both exhilarating and exhausting. What have been some of the emotional highs and lows of the job for you?”
Every trip has its ups and downs, and the swings between these poles can be extreme. For me, the biggest lows of trips came when I didn’t handle a situation as well as I knew I could. All kinds of factors can get you down: exhaustion, hunger, bad weather, long days, the list goes on. When these factors compound, it can be difficult to be the trip leader you want to be. You might make mistakes or say things you don’t mean. There’s no way to sugarcoat it, being a trip leader was the hardest job I’ve ever done, but it was also the best summer of my life.
I grew as a person in ways I didn’t expect and came out of each trip as a better version of myself. For every emotional low, there’s an emotional high that reminds you why you do what you do. As a trip leader, you have the opportunity to make a positive impact on your campers every single day, and connecting with that purpose got me through each challenging moment. When you’re out there on a trip, your campers need you to step up. It’s a tall task, but ultimately, the role you get to have is a gift to be cherished even in the face of the difficulties you face.
“Is there a specific view or natural phenomenon out on the water that always moves you, no matter how many times you’ve seen it?”
I’ll never get tired of seeing birds out on the water. Somehow, birds assumed a somewhat spiritual role in my life last summer. Every time I see or hear a bird, a feeling of calm and presence washes over me. On countless occasions when I needed a boost, eagles, ospreys, loons, herons, and cardinals would appear like positive omens sent by nature to ground me. I’ll always remember one night in particular on my first sea kayaking trip. This trip can only be described as a magical experience. On the last night of the trip while camping on Ram Island, my co-leaders and I sat on the rocks watching the moon rise in the starry sky above the Sheepscot River. As we sat there in silence, the shrill call of a loon echoed over the water to remind us how lucky we are to be alive.
“How would you describe your leadership style on the water, and has it changed since you started guiding?”
I’d like to describe myself as calm with an upbeat attitude. When I started guiding, I projected this sense of calm, but I didn’t actually feel it. It was a “fake it ‘til you make it” approach. The more I guided, the more confident I became, and the sense of calm within solidified more deeply. I feel like having a calm trip leader makes a big difference, so I aim to be as even-keel as possible.
“What’s one camper reaction—maybe something funny, heartfelt, or surprising—that has stayed with you?”
At the end of one trip last summer, our whole group had a final evening meeting in which we reflected on what the trip meant to us. Everyone was emotional. Weather and some difficult conditions on the water had made it a tough trip towards the start, but we got through those days and ended up having a wonderful time. During the meeting, a camper who tended to be quiet and reserved decided to speak up. She emotionally expressed how grateful she was for the experience and everyone there in a beautiful way. Though I can’t remember exactly what they said, they perfectly encapsulated how the group had come so close together through all the ups and downs we went through together. It was a really special group we had on that trip, and the feeling of gratitude we were all left with after that evening meeting will always be a memory that makes me smile.
“How has guiding sea kayaking trips changed you? What have you learned about yourself through this work?”
I think the most important lesson I’ve learned is that I’m a lot more capable than I often think. Like I’ve said before, leading sea kayaking trips is challenging for many reasons. You’re pushed physically, mentally, and emotionally every day as a leader. Ultimately, you learn that you can and will rise to each and every challenge, and things that once felt difficult become routine over time. I’ve learned that I’m capable enough to rise to the occasion to support myself and the people around me, especially when others need me to step up.
“If you could pass on one lesson to a new counselor about leading sea kayaking trips, what would it be?”
Having patience is absolutely essential. Have patience with yourself as you learn and grow, and have patience with your campers as they learn and grow just the same. You’re not going to get everything right or do everything perfectly, nor will your campers. The best thing you can do is to grant patience, grace, and compassion to yourself and your campers. It takes time, but trust that you’ll get better at your job every day. Wherever you start, you’ll be a stronger, kinder, and more competent version of yourself by the end of the summer.
Hank Bruininks hails from Seattle, Washington and is currently studying Environmental Studies at Bates College in Lewiston, Maine.
