Partners With a Hearing Loss

June-July 2006

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
To download a pdf copy of the magazine click here: > DOWNLOAD

by Paula Johanson

My husband dripping water down my neck!. John Wilcox Herbert photo.

Have you ever capsized on a calm day, for no obvious reason? The quirks of my inner ears make me stumble on linoleum, fall off a bicycle or tilt a kayak past the tipping point. So now I wear non-skid shoes, own a second-hand three-wheel bike, and take precautions when paddling.

I’ve been canoeing for years, but I took up kayaking since losing almost half my hearing seven years ago. My boat is a rotomolded plastic kayak with an extra-large cockpit. Since I have little or no sense of balance, I want easy entry and exit, especially if the kayak flips over. It’s short and wide, but then, so am I.

Never met a deaf paddler? Guess again. If you see three grey-haired people out in boats this Sunday, odds are at least one has age-related or work-related hearing loss. The friend who paddles off from your group may not be grumpy, just hard of hearing. Get your own ears tested. If you live long enough, you too will probably have some hearing loss.

Communication is always important with a group of paddlers and even more so if some of them don’t hear well. Voices carry well over calm water, but in moving water, like surf or river currents, the background noise can mask voices. On moving water, don’t count on a hard-of-hearing paddler to hear anything other than “Hey!”—if that.

My partner hollers across the bay to get my attention, but that doesn’t always work. A small air-horn works better, and fits in a life jacket pocket. We have whistles on our life jackets as well.

Remember that conversation usually happens when people see each other’s faces. You’d be surprised how much lip-reading everyone does. Turning your face away from people who are hard of hearing not only aims your voice away, it means they can’t see if you just said you’re ready to “go far” or “go to the bar”—and whether you’re laughing or scared.

When paddling double, someone who is hard of hearing will want to be bow paddler, so the stern paddler’s voice will carry forward. But someone who is deaf and uses sign language may prefer to be stern paddler, to see what the bow paddler is signing. My partner prefers to put me in the bow, and assures me that he’ll smack me with his paddle to get my attention.

The first time we rented a double kayak, my partner received special instructions from the clerk. It was only later that I found out these were not safety instructions, but a detailed explanation of how to scoop up a few drops of water on a paddle blade and carefully tip them down the bow paddler’s neck—and then to get the paddle back in the water before being caught in the act.

People who use sign language will definitely need a paddle tether, even in calm water, to avoid losing their paddle. I’ve never actually used more than minimal signs when kayaking, as paddling gloves definitely limit the expressiveness of your fingers!

As for rough water, check out the conditions and make sure everyone knows the plan—and how to change it if necessary. This is especially important when relying on sign language. In rivers, paddlers usually go single file through the best path, but when at sea or on a rough lake, paddlers should go side-by-side or two-by-two so they can see each other.

Communication is the biggest issue, but awareness of conditions is also important, especially for solo paddlers. What if the weather changes? What if the fog rolls in? Not being able to hear a foghorn is bad enough, but in suddenly reduced visibility, a paddler who can’t hear echoes off a cliff may wander down a fjord or out to sea. Plan ahead, casually but consistently: where would you pull ashore? And make a study of weather in general.

In some places, traffic is the major concern and you need to be aware of boat movements. Don’t count on other boats, large or small, to avoid you.

Balance issues can provoke nausea. Since my hearing loss, I can’t handle rollercoasters (or even watch a video taken with a hand-held camera), so I was very careful the first few times sea kayaking. To my delight, swells and a little chop didn’t make me seasick or dizzy. Perhaps the full-body sensation of muscle movement helps my brain cope with the inner-ear signals.

Now my partner wants to go kayak surfing on the exposed west coast. But first I think I’ll sign up for a Surf Kayaking course at the local paddling store. If I’m going outside my comfort zone, I want some training from an expert!

© Paula Johanson is a Victoria, BC freelance writer of books and articles. This summer her paddle group is touring waterside marina pubs.