Interview:
Peter Tranter

Photos:
Nigel Foster,
Kristin Nelson,
Mark Lange,
Tim Franklin,
Eddie Safarik,
Ken Gulliver,
Malte Danielsson,
Jahfong,
Sigurgeir Jonasson,
Riaan Manser &
Paul Carine

A chat with… Nigel Foster

Before we start Nigel, let our readers know a little about yourself, your family, your background, etc. 
I began life when I was quite young, two years younger than my brother, Michael. My parents bought a house outside Brighton when I was about six, and I soon had a baby sister, Debbie. David arrived later. We were a close family, and outside the family, I was shy. I took a year off after Grammar School, working at an outdoor centre. Inspired by that, I trained as a teacher and gained a couple of years of school teaching experience before becoming deputy warden of an outdoor centre in 1977. That year, I designed a sea kayak with Keith Robinson and circumnavigated Iceland in it.

When the centre closed due to education funding cuts, I flew to Iqaluit and paddled south, crossing Hudson Strait solo. On my return, I instructed at Plas Menai for four years before starting my own business in North Wales. Focusing on sea kayaking, I guided trips to Iceland, the Faroe Islands, Norway. and Scotland. From home, I instructed around Anglesey and the Lleyn peninsula, published books and wrote for magazines. I also began designing more kayaks and kayaking equipment.

Gradually, I became more in demand internationally. When I moved to Seattle, I needed a nearby airport rather than a kayaking base. Instruction, consulting, writing, and designing kept me busy year-round. I have enjoyed collaborating with many kayaking companies, most recently with Point65 Sweden.  All my siblings take to the water, as does my daughter in Wales. My sister Debbie regularly paddles all over the UK in canoes and kayaks. I live in a little house in a fun neighbourhood of Seattle with Kristin Nelson, a commercially successful ceramic artist who is also a talented kayaker. Are there kayaks and canoes here? Duh!

You began sea kayaking in 1977 and haven’t stopped since. What made you start?
Brighton’s proximity to water certainly influenced my kayaking. Dad took us out in rented canoes, but my brother, Michael, encouraged me along on kayaking trips with the scouts. That was in 1966. By 1967, I had begun surfing kayaks. That thrill of careering shoreward, trying to steer, never grew old. I loved the energy of the sea.

Surf kayaking, whitewater racing, making coastal day trips, and crossing the English Channel all made me happy. Then, one of my friends, Hans Peter Thompson, packed his kayak and quietly paddled around Britain solo one summer.

That motivated me to make a multi-day solo trip back to Brighton when I left college in 1975, around Cornwall and the south coast of England. There were scary surprises when basking sharks surfaced alongside me or coming ashore through some of the biggest surf I had experienced near Lands’ End. I cooked over fist-sized fires and slept out under the stars beside my kayak on the beach.

How does kayaking on the ocean give you particular satisfaction?
I will never forget the special feeling of freedom I felt on that trip. Trying to harmonise with the weather, the currents, and the waves, tied only by their schedule, felt very satisfying. That was the inspiration to do more and longer trips.

Tell us a bit about your latest book, ‘Kayak Across France’?
When COVID-19 limited my travel opportunities, I sat down and published two books: ‘Heart of Toba’, about kayaking in the biggest crater lake in the world (60 miles long) in Sumatra, and ‘Kayak across France’.

Kayak across France’ is not my latest book, by the way… ‘Iceland by Kayak’ is more recent. I find it sobering and a little amusing to recall that I planned the Iceland trip in a few months, spent nine and a half weeks completing the trip, and took 46 years to finish the book. That’s an average of about six words per day, although that’s not how I wrote it.

So, France? In 1978, my friend Tim Franklin rolled in with the idea of paddling to the Med in winter. We both worked at outdoor Centres with leave time to use before April. So, we set off from Calais in a Kirton Kayaks Tasman with camping gear for the coldest and wettest month of paddling imaginable. Some nights, there was scarcely a patch of ground visible above the water on which to sleep. The smell of our socks became unbearable.

It took us three weeks to get halfway. From there, descending the flooded Saône and Rhône to the Med took just one week. We hitchhiked from Port St Louis with the tandem kayak, getting a lift to Marseilles in a Citroen 2CV. Low on funds, we flipped a coin to see who would ride the train back with the kayak and who would hitchhike.

But France doesn’t have to be that wet. In 2010, during a gap in my schedule, I flew to Paris with Kristin, picked up a kayak from Richard Öhman of Point65, and drove to Sète on the Med. In balmy September, we paddled from there to the Atlantic through the canal du Midi and onward. Think of the wine districts of Languedoc, village open markets, and architecture in Toulouse and Bordeaux: Bordeaux clarets, historic fortified towns, and castles.

Then there’s a tidal bore on the Garonne, Cockleshell heroes-style mudflats on the Gironde, oysters and champagne. Kristin would point out that, although Tim and I rarely had to portage a lock, kayaks are forbidden in the locks on the 17th-century Canal du Midi, our uphill section. On that trip, we had to portage the loaded tandem, a DoubleShot sea kayak, around more than a hundred locks. Yes, as I said, Kristin would point that out, but think of the wines!

When preparing for long periods at sea in challenging conditions – what are the qualities you look for in a fellow sea kayaker?
Someone interested in where they are, who appreciates the surroundings, beyond powering from A to B. Sociable, empathetic. Someone willing to change plans to meet the circumstances, not risk averse, but sensible. Self-motivated but not obsessed. Someone who sticks with the group. Skill level? That’s not as important. It’s easy to enjoy paddling, tempered to a particular skill level, when everyone is empathetic, but not so with people who are irrational or ego-driven.

What kayak and equipment are you using at the moment?
Most of the time, nowadays, I paddle a Whisky16, with my signature AIR paddle and an Explorer 2 PFD… all items I designed for Point65 Sweden. The Legend is my other go-to sea kayak. Otherwise, I paddle a Bell Wildfire canoe with a Mitchell paddle. I surf a Mega Mustang or an old Necky Groovy, the carbon-fibre surf kayak I paddled down the Grand Canyon. I often wear a lightweight Kokatat jacket with rain-pants over fleece or wool, with Crocks on my feet.

Any favourite conditions for sea kayaking, or are you happy with whatever Mother Nature bowls your way?
I enjoy the different moods of the weather and sea. The calm serenity of a still day, weaving between the skerries of the Swedish archipelago over a mirror of the sky, or the boisterous action of a tide race. A steep following sea, just enough to enable long swooping downwind rides, delights me.

What has been your most challenging expedition?
My most challenging expedition? That must be the solo 1981 trip from Iqaluit, Baffin Island, across Hudson Strait to northern Labrador. There were big tides (40-feet range) but little tidal information and no weather forecast, so most everything was the seat of the pants. Unfortunately, in Hudson Strait, the tides near the Button Islands off the northern tip of Labrador set northwest on the flood, not southwest as it appeared from the chart and Admiralty pilot.

After completing a windy and foggy 40-mile open crossing, I struggled to hold my position against that strong current in the dark for several hours until the tide turned. The final insult, being unable to see in the dark, crash-landing through the surf onto the rocks 300 miles from the nearest village, was a sobering experience. There was no way to communicate with anyone.

I didn’t die, or at least I don’t think so. I got frostbite in my fingers and lots of bruises from the landing. Eight days later, farther south, I hitched a ride on an oil tanker to Nova Scotia. That was just good luck.

In 2004, 23 years later, I returned with Kristin. Starting at Kuujjuaq in Ungava Bay, we rounded the northern tip of Labrador, where I previously met the oil tanker, and finished at Nain. The book: ‘On Polar Tides’ and the earlier ‘Stepping Stones’, tells the story. There were rather too many polar bears for comfort on that second trip. Justine Curgenven just returned from making that same journey. She can tell you what it is like there now.

What draws you to long and challenging adventure paddles such as the circumnavigation of Iceland?
The idea of paddling around Iceland was sparked by a chance meeting with another group of kayakers in the Outer Hebrides; Colin Mortlock led the Nordkapp Expedition the previous summer. When I opened an atlas to see exactly where in Norway, I saw the inset map of Iceland. One thing leads to another. Next year, in 1977, I circumnavigated Iceland with Geoff Hunter.

There is a part of most of us that pushes the envelope and stretches the boundaries. For some, it leads to cooking ever more elaborate meals or training for a faster lap time. Rock climbers are known for always edging toward something more extreme. To be caught in a cycle of kayaking expeditions is the same: seeking a little extra each time. The incentive was hoping for something different, but the feeling of accomplishment came from facing greater challenges. I found Newfoundland interesting for its people, history, and culture of fishermen building wooden boats and drying cod or squid. The Faeroe islands tempted me with towering cliffs and seabirds but also with tide races. Lofoten, Shetland, each place was a treasure, but back home, it was always “What’s next?”

That all came crashing down when the Hudson Strait crossing left me traumatised. Back home, I feared crossing even the half-mile gap to Puffin Island from Anglesey, frightened to paddle solo in the dark. It took me three years to regain my confidence and get circulation back in my fingers. Only after crossing to St Kilda with Alun Hughes in 1984, paddling from Skye via the Outer Hebrides, did I finally feel relaxed on open water again. I also felt that I did not need to push the envelope as before. The inevitable would happen if I did.

How have you changed as a person due to your extended expeditions?
Expeditions have a long-term goal but are really a series of one-day trips. Life is like that. Patience and persistence are invaluable when drafting a new book, typing one page at a time, following through to page layouts and indexing, cover design and editing repeatedly, or working on a new kayak design, from the first draft to the finished product with all the details.

On long trips, I learned how much harmony is an enabler. That is when interacting with people and with water.

Paddling, I seek maximum effect for minimum effort. I eliminate the energy I waste in each paddle stroke, harnessing the wind to help me steer, using the eddies or the main currents, and catching waves or reflected waves to save energy. That all requires awareness, and there is plenty of time on the water on an extended trip to develop that. Man against the sea is not where it’s at. The sea can help you if you let it; it is a metaphor for life. There’s a balance between making things happen and letting things run their course when events push you in the direction you want to go.

What’s the most enjoyable encounter with wildlife that you’ve had?
It’s difficult to select just one, but possibly it was surfing a wave ski with Hector’s dolphins on the west coast of New Zealand. A row of little dolphins surfing close to each side of me. Every turn I made, all the dolphins turned with me. It was so uplifting! Ride after ride! It makes me smile to recall!

If you could capture just one ‘feel good’ moment in your time on the ocean – which would it be and why?
An evening trip with local paddlers in Shetland, with my six-year-old daughter in her narrow kayak (called the Fairytale), quietly keeping pace with everyone else. I felt so proud of her.

After all your years on the ocean, what still scares you on a paddle?
The rogue wave when I’m in the wrong place. I am always watching the wave patterns, gauging the rhythm, trying to anticipate. Occasionally, the ocean throws a curve ball.

I’m a paddler and going on vacation; where would you recommend apart from your own backyard?
Try Misool, West Papua, Indonesia. Outrageous karst limestone formations, corals, deep blue sinkholes and hidden lagoons. Unforgettable.

What advice would you give your younger self?
Go for it! Stretch the envelope! Whatever happens, I guarantee you’ll live at least into your 70s!

Is there any issue that stops you from sleeping at night?
Wondering if I’m a figment of my own imagination. What would we see if our eyes could detect radio waves? How could we define another dimension? A mosquito in my ear.

What’s your favourite day-trip paddle?
Around here, Cape Flattery, on the northwestern tip of Washington State, from Neah Bay. There is potential for a bit of everything special, from rock-hopping, sea caves and stacks, hidden pocket coves, sea lions, seals, and often whales. A little tidal action crossing to Tatoosh Island and back, ending with some rides at the wonderful surf beach. To round it off, locally caught smoked salmon before heading home.

Do you have an ultimate achievement?
To die happy in old age.

What projects are you currently working on?
Currently, I’m puzzling over a book project about the colour of water. What colour is it anyway?

What do you do when not kayaking?
Sometimes, I sit and watch the hummingbirds feeding. I play the guitar, write, design things, practice amateur brain surgery (mostly non-invasive), and paddle my open canoe, but not all at the same time.

What was the main reason for emigrating to Seattle in the US?
A woman. And she’s worth it!

What’s the one location you haven’t paddled that would be on your bucket list?
There is a hot pool, the Grand Prismatic Pool, in Yellowstone National Park. It has all the colours of the rainbow. To paddle there (illegal) would be to ruin it, so it’s not a consideration, but in my dreams. An achievable dream is to circumnavigate Rene-Levasseur Island in the Manicouagan asteroid crater lake in central Quebec, Canada.

Quickies

If you could paddle with anyone in the world, dead or alive, who would it be?
The only dead person I’ve paddled with so far was Phyllis, and she didn’t talk much. She didn’t say a word! There are a couple of dead people I’d like to paddle with, but sadly, they are alive right now. Someone fun and very much alive I’d like to paddle with? Angelina Joli.

(Phyllis? Yes, she really was dead, but I would have preferred to have paddled with her when she was alive. ‘Farewell to Phyllis’ is one of the tales in ‘Encounters from a Kayak’).

Pick two celebrities to be your parents.
I haven’t asked them yet, but I’m thinking of Scarlet Johansson and Naomi Campbell. I love my parents!

Which one sportsman or woman has inspired you?
Maybe not exactly the type of sportsman you had in mind, but one person who inspired me was Ernest Shackleton.

An ideal night out for you is?
A night beneath the aurora borealis on a moonless night, with a glass of single malt whisky and a loved one. A night paddle through dense bioluminescence… or a wild party in a house packed with friends.

What one luxury item would you take with you on a desert island?
A guitar.

Who are your kayaking buddies?
My resident paddling buddy is Kristin Nelson, and she’s paddled with me in many places. All my other paddling buddies are scattered around the globe in fun locations.

What’s in your fridge right now?
As they say in Vegas, what goes on in the fridge stays in the fridge! You should know that by now! Okay, yes, help yourself to a beer.

What would you prepare for us if we came to your house for dinner?
Unannounced tonight? How many? Everyone’s favourite, curried seagull? Otherwise, since it is mushroom season, I’ll make fresh pasta from egg, semolina, and plain flour. Mushrooms, sautéed in butter with black pepper, simmered in red wine until the mushrooms soak up the flavour. Stilton cheese stirred in until it melts into a creamy sauce… add a little sour cream and stir into the cooked pasta. Steamed broccoli, and voila… quick and easy. Served with home-baked artisan bread, still warm. With butter. The grocery store is just a block away if I need to pick up an ingredient I don’t have. Did you ask for more beer? Red wine would be more appropriate, but it’s your choice.

If you could be a wild animal – what would it be?
I really enjoy watching Steller’s Jays. They are alert, inquisitive and mischievous, and they can fly! And I like the colour blue. But maybe I could get up to more mischief as a bed bug?

What would you do with £10 million?
Okay, you twisted my arm. For ten million, I will make something better than mushroom stilton pasta when you drop by for dinner. And yes, of course, you may have another beer.

Who is your favourite sports personality?
Carlos Alcaraz seems to exude joy and humility!

Favourite team?
Shropshire BCGBA Ladies team. They rock! Or at least they roll… (Don’t you just love acronyms?).

What three words would you use to describe you?
Curious. Friendly. Quiet. (except when playing electric guitar) Innumerate. Mischievous…

Finally, any final shoutouts?
nigelkayaks.com. Always on the lookout for interesting ideas, writing contracts, consulting, instructing/coaching opportunities… have bag, will travel! Have fridge… will open! And that £10 million?