As soon as I received Seawave 2 last year I ditched the heavy and squidgy Gumotex seats (right), and implemented my proven packraft inflatable seatbase + SoT backrest idea (left and below right) at a fraction of the weight and bulk.
The seatbase is fine of course; it weighs next to nothing and lifts you off the unavoidably soft floor for a good ‘raised-bum’ paddling stance. I’ve been using it for years, but sometimes I think I could use more back support than the SoT foam backrest. It presses nicely into the small of the back, but like a low-backed chair, is not something you can lean on. You could say in a kayak you shouldn’t be leaning on anything, but sitting bolt upright, knocking out a series of ‘searchlight beam’ torso rotating powerstrokes. But after too much of that you just want to lean back on something.
I picked up a used BICSport Power Backrest (for an SoT; right) which looked like it might be more comfortable. At 37cm, it was tall but lacked a hand rear pocket and instead had a centrally positioned adjustable bungy to counter-tension the back and keep it upright. Using it for the first time on the Wey last week, it started well but after a few hours collapsed as the pull from the front and back straps crumpled the backrest.
The problem: lack of stiffness. A backrest needs to be stiff like a chair back, while a seatbase wants to be soft like an armchair. One provides support; the latter takes your weight. The best way to fix the backrest was to insert a firm plastic plate. It just so happens I kept that very part from a rotting old Aire Cheetah seat bought 15 years ago for my Sunny. I got that boat back last year, did it up with new seats and sold it. How’s that for recycling!
To be honest I’m beginning to think separate backrests and seatbases are a bit of a faff to fit and especially seatbase just right when getting in and out a lot (did someone say ‘Wey‘?). It wouldn’t be hard to attach the packraft seatbase to the BIC back rest.
I bought another Chinese cheapie IK seat (left; with back pocket; about £25) as I did for the refurb’d Sunny. I was considering semi-permanently attaching the packraft base underneath it with some sort of net arrangement, but I see the all-important backrest is just more mushy foam so also needs stiffening to work for me pushing against footrests. It will work fine as a second seat.
In a line: Huge IP67 submersible roll duffle/backpack with integrated ‘trolley’.
Cost: £180 (shops seen from £185, typically £230).
Weight: 3170g (verified).
Where tested: A mile’s walk to a river on road, track and path.
• Durable wheel design • Rolls up • Waterproof TiZip • Non-rigid design less prone to damage • Lockable main zip • Exterior mesh pocket • Detachable backpack harness • Rigid handle eliminates bobbing • Easy to remove wheels
• Costs a lot, but so do they all in this size • PVC feels a bit thin • Little mud clearance for wheels
What they say … the Duffle RS is made to withstand the rigours of the most adventurous of expeditions while at the same time offering a high degree of travel comfort. The bag’s heavy-duty wheel system is connected to the body of the bag in a waterproof manner. The 100 mm wheels and the rigid floor plate made of contoured aluminium offer increased floor clearance – ideal for both airport terminals and rugged outdoor terrain. And given the importance of lightweight luggage, especially when travelling by plane, the bag’s designers opted for an adjustable grip that guarantees plenty of leg clearance and comfortable towing instead of a heavy telescopic towing frame. The foam padding at the base of the bag offers enhanced stability when the bag is fully loaded and the watertight zipper that runs across the whole length of the bag gives you quick access to your gear. The zipper can also be locked using the integrated wire loop and a small cable lock (not included).
In need of a replacement for NZ, I chopped down a cheap folding trolley and lashed it to my trusty 96-litre UDB sausage bag (left). It was unstable but worked pretty well and all weighed in at just 2.7kg. With airline baggage limits at 22kg or so, luggage weight becomes important, but luggage must also be robust enough to withstand rough treatment, not least by baggage-weary baggage handlers. This bodge was a valiant attempt at not splashing out on Ortlieb’s RS140 Duffle which I’s been eyeing up for months and fitted my needs: a stable and submersible roll bag with good clearance and integrated wheels. A few months later an unused, RS popped up on eBay about 20% cheaper than the shops and, like the feeble consumer I am, I fell for it. More gear, sigh…
Orlieb does two types of wheeled duffles: the RG (‘riGid’) series in 34-, 60 and 85 litres with a rigid floorplate or frame supporting an extendable aluminium handle (right), like regular wheeled luggage. And the more unusual frame-free ‘roll-able’ RS (‘Saggy’) series in 85, 100 and 140 litres.
Wheeled duffles are nothing new: all the major outdoor outfitters do models up to 140 litres. But like the Ortleib RGs, they all use rigid frames for the telescoping handles which sees weights exceed 5 kilos. None claim any level of IP-rated submergibility and few have a backpack harness which, at huge capacities, is more realistic than a shoulder or holdall straps.
In a kayak and especially a packraft, a rigid bag is a nuisance. Only the Ortlieb RS can be rolled up (below left) and only the 140 is big enough to easily swallow a big IK and gear (below right).
With wheeled bags intended for rugged terrain, large 100mm ø wheels roll over irregularities better and can give better clearance. What’s important is a solid mounting as the bearings or axles get a hammering when loaded up on rough ground. The RS’s wheels have a smooth solid feel and have replaceable bearings and the solid alloy plate – effectively part of the axle – also takes the knocks from stones. The wheels are also easily removable with a 3mm hex key. Handy if a stone gets jammed in there or mud clogs then up
It’s the full-length TiZip which makes this bag special; IP67 rated which will do me. Because it’s long, getting my Seawave in there was easy and left 30 litres for camping and paddling clobber. If you just want a day transporter for a solo IK, the RS 100 may do you. When closed, the zip end hooks on to a stud and you can slip a padlock under an embedded cable to lock it in place (above right). On the water, the idea is that, once you’ve deployed the boat, the bag carries the rest of your camping stuff in a more compressed form, plus with a guarantee that it won’t get wet inside. This makes the RS a truly do-it-all big-hauler on land and sea.
At the other end the two-part handle has a rigid bar and an adjustable strap for length and I found the bag rolled along better than my UDB lash-up. It didn’t bob because of the rigid handle, and it didn’t catch my walking legs either. Finally, a comfy roll bag.
Inside, a 20mm-thick foam base is glued in to protect the floor from sharp impacts; the floor gets an additional layer of Cordura on the outside too. And the compression straps incorporate a zipped document pocket. The backpack straps are thin and basic – good for stairs but not really fit for the north face of the Matterhorn. But the whole frameless soft bag sags nicely across the back and is surprisingly comfortable at 20kg all up. You’ll want to carry it on paths as below as the mud soon clogs up the narrow gap around the wheels.
The backpack straps join up with velcro to make a carry handle and there’s another handy grab handle at the wheeled end. The backpack straps are removable so could easily be replaced with something cushier, but it’s a big load to carry on the shoulders for long. Four bag-top tabs (not really ‘daisy chains‘) allow you to lash on yet more gear, like paddles. There’s also a small zipped mesh pocket (left). The PVC is the same thickness as regular Ortlieb roll bags. For something able to carry such heavy loads and getting knocked about in and out of airports, I’d have preferred something more durable. That would of course add weight, and one good thing with this stuff is that it’s dead easy to repair, either with tape or a dab of Aquasure.
My 100-L Gumotex Seawave backpack has been rolled up from new and is stashed for when the boat gets sold. The RS is now the Seawave’s spacious travel bag. It rolls along just as well as you’d expect: nice and stable (unlike my UDB trolley set up), has good clearance and protection, (although the Cordura picks up the dirt and mud) and sits surprisingly well on the back for a frameless backpack. My 4-part Manta Ray paddle fits right in, along with a foam PFD, barrel pump and all the other day-out knick-knacks. Full camping gear with Seawave may require an extra bag.
Adding an oral inflation/suction valve
Some reviewers say the RS is saggy to roll when not packed full. I suppose that may be true. But because the RS should be airtight, fully inflated or vacuum sealed, it ought to hold that form and be less of a wheeled sack. Yes you can squish it down and do up the zip, quick. Or you can fit an oral inflation valve protected inside the exterior mesh pocket (left). They’re hard to find online; try here or here. Now I can suck the bag down, much like I would a boat using the pump in reverse to get it compact. Do it to RS and the bag becomes ‘vacuum sealed’ and much stiffer. There’s less chance of the belly dragging on rough ground and you’d like to think less chance of snags from loose folds. Fully inflating would not be quite as effective as I find the bag cab be into an annoying bob as you walk because the air can compress. Sucked down it’s as stiff as a board. Another good reason for a valve on a bag like this that you can blow it right up as a buoyancy aid to cross a narrow but deep river, or to get ashore after a razorbill puffin bites your boat. Either way, for wheeling rigidity or emergency buoyancy, an oral inflation valve is handy when using such a bag for paddling.
Sealed bags on planes Whenever I checked in my UDB for a flight I always opened the zip a bit so it wouldn’t burst or strain the seams in the decompressed hold. Turns out I was over-thinking it. Cargo holds are pressurised at the same level as the rest of the craft; a tubular fuselage shape (right) requires it to spread stresses evenly. Yes, it is reduced to 20% less than sea level pressure. That’s why some containers occasionally leak a little.
You may have seen these bayonet/car tyre adapters on eBay in recent months (left). The bayonet end clamps into your IK’s raft valve (won’t work on Boston valves). The other end is a regular Schrader valve like on your car/bike wheel. Attach that to your 12-volt Halfords tyre compressor and you can inflate your IK from your car battery. No more of that effortful, back-breaking pumping!
Me, I’ve never seen the value of electric pumps for IKs. (Packrafts are another matter). You can only use them near a power source, or the rechargeable battery will run out. And how hard and slow is inflating an IK with a good barrel pump anyway? As IKs catch on with more mainstream recreational users (whose cheap boats may come with a rubbish pump), some find manual pumping too tiring. What is this world coming too?!
The difference between tyres and IKs: • a car tyre is a low-volume, high-pressure vessel (~30 litres @ ~30psi) • an IK has high volume but runs low pressure (3 chambers of 50–160 litres @ ~3psi). Drop-stitch has less volume but runs much more pressure.
That’s up to five times more volume in an IK, but at a tenth of the pressure. I would guess the swept volume of my better-than-average car pump (left) is 3–5cc. My Bravo RED 4 barrel pump is 2 x 2000cc (it pumps on the up and the down strokes). Even if my 12-volt compressor whizzes along at 1001rpm, it will still take a long, long time to fill a 160-litre IK floor. But for a fiver, I thought I’d prove myself right.
The Test The easiest way was to pump up my Seawave’s floor to the point the PRV purged at about 3psi. The actual psi is immaterial but it’s consistent.
No surprise: it took less than a minute to pump up the 160-litre floor with the barrel. With my car tyre pump it took over 7 minutes. And if you want say 4psi in the sides, or a 10psi drop-stitch boat, the duration of the tyre pump (or effort with the barrel pump) rises exponentially. It will take forever with the car pump adapter and I think the tyre pump would auto shut-off or burn-out before it reached anywhere near 10psi.
I looked into rechargable or D-cell battery or mains/car electric pumps like above. They go on amazon from just £9.99, or even less for mains only or 4 x D-cell battery. These may be great for pool toys, air beds and other low-pressure items like slackrafts which just need a shape, not rigidity. The Pumteck (left; £15) claims an obscure pressure rating of 4.5 kPa which sounds impressive but translates to just 0.65 psi or 0.045 bar. That is slackraft pressure; there is no worthwhile IK that runs such a low psi.
All these pumps do is save you the initial pumping which merely takes time (< 5 mins), not effort. The rechargeable ones will be spent in 10 minutes and then need hours of recharging. For a typical 3-psi IK you’ll still need some sort of manual pump to top offto full pressure; even more so a higher pressure DS IK. If your back can’t handle a barrel pump (taller pumps work better for taller folk), consider a Bravo foot pump, but with any dropstitch IK there is no getting round the need for a high-pressure barrel pump or a very expensive SUP electric pump.
You can get Chinese PVC D-rings dirt cheap on eBay but genuine hypalon D-rings (not PVC claiming to work on hypalon) cost a lot for what they are. Once you factor in the price of two-part glue, it adds up, especially if you have a few to fit. It’s fairly easy to make your own D-rings for your IK to attach gear, thigh straps, footrest mounts and so on.
You can buy metal D-rings by the sack-load online, as well as round PVC or Hypalonpatches. (‘Hypalon’ is pretty much the same synthetic rubber as Gumotex Nitrilon and Grabner Nordel). Or buy an off-cut (above right) for much less and cut your own. A D-ring doesn’t have to be round but it’s better if corners are rounded. You will notice how unusually hard it is to cut this stuff with scissors or a blade. The fibre core is tough: good for zero-elasticity in an IK.
Pictures below show how to make your own D-rings. Go to this page for how to apply any patch, step-by-step.
Sticking to the Rules I needed to fit some tube-top D-rings to properly support a second backrest in my Sunny 2020. I found a stray, opened tin of Bostik 2402 two-part in my kit bag, but with an expiry date of 2009. Back then I only owned this original Sunny and looking it up, 2402 turned out to be for rubber boats. Perhaps I bought it more recently but didn’t notice the expiry date. In the tin the glue was still liquid and unseparated, but the little bottle of Bostik D-10 hardener had long since evaporated. Digging around, I also found an opened bottle of PolyMarine hardener. Comparing chemicals showed they both contained Diphenylmethanediisocyanate, one of the few words that’s too long for a Scrabble board. I mixed the wrong-brand hardener with the 11-year old glue 25: 1 and the bond looked as good as anything.
As of early 2021 it seems WindPaddle.com are no longer in business. But there are plenty of knock offs around.
WindPaddle Adventure II Weight: 385g (+ 45g ‘reins’ with 2 mini carabiners) Folded 3 times: (takes a knack) 40 x 45cm ø Folded twice: (easier/quicker on the water) 60cm ø Open: 116cm ø
I’ve been waiting for the right kind of wind to have a proper go at WindPaddling my MRS Nomad. Sunday was not that day with SW gusts up to 25mph. Yesterday was more like it: direct from the west at 10-15 meant a chance to run down the full length of Loch Ossian with the wind erring towards the road for the walk back or if it all went wrong.
You forget that starting at the upwind end all is relatively smooth and calm, but soon the fetch kicks up and stays that way. Progress gets a bit lively so you need to be on top of things which includes stashing the paddle safely. I found tucking it across the boat under some red sidelines (left) worked well and are more often useful for manhandling the boat. Lunging after a lost paddle would be bad; so would letting go of the sail’s ‘reins’ and having the boat run over it. The sudden drag and deceleration might see the racing boat slew sideways and flip you out. And before you come up for air, your packraft is skimming across the loch like a crisp packet.
I don’t know if gusts vary in direction but you also need to constantly modulate the reins left to right to keep on course. It’s said downwind sails like the WindPaddle have a narrow windspeed window which tops out around 15mph. After that, they start fluttering left to right in an effort to shed the load, as mine did a couple of times. Going out in stronger winds may be too hard to handle or very exciting. As it is, the maximum hull speed of a packraft must be about half that and, just as a cyclist’s energy to overcome wind drag grows exponentially with speed, so to you can only push a paddle boat so far. A packraft is about as hydrodynamic as a training shoe.
With the gloomy skies I was initially a bit nervous. Controlled by the wind and without a paddle in your hands felt disconcerting; a sunny tropical locale would have fixed that I’m sure. As usual with packboat sailing, it’s never just sit back and skim along like yachts seem to do; you have to keep correcting. At nearly 3m with the skeg fitted, the MRS is longish which must help keep it on line. And as mentioned before, with the WindPaddle you can steer at least 30° off the wind. According to the GPS, 9.3kph (5.8mph) was the peak speed, though most of the time I was zipping along at about 7.5kph. It felt faster as wavelettes broke to either side and occasionally over the bow. With the big Corry paddle, at maximum paddle exertion on flatwater I can hit 6kph for a couple of seconds. So once you relax, sailing can be a fast and energy-saving way of covering distance, and the WP folded up and stashed easily under the DeckPack.
I was expecting to walk back but gave paddling a go and stuck with it, hackling along at 2kph with rests every 10 minutes. Fifteen minutes sailing downwind = a 50-minute paddle back. I still think for the price, weight, bulk and ease of fitting and use, a WindPaddle is a worthwhile packboating accessory.
Weight, Size & Volume Bag: 224g; straps 11g each (verified) 59cm wide, 43 cm long and ~15 high when full. Volume: 22 litres
Where tested Northwest Scotland, Medway, Knoydart
• Waterproof construction including IPX7 zip • Light • Variety of attachment options, providing you have the mounts • Four 58-cm straps included • Works great on the trail as a shoulder bag too • Handy Molle rim tapes • You can easily tuck a once-folded WindPaddle underneath
• On the bow of my Nomad was a bit of to reach; better on the Rebel 2K • Not convinced it works well as a floor bag • Won’t stay up to be a pillow • A white interior and external mesh pocket would be good • They could drop the 4 straps; reusable zip ties or mini biners are quicker and easier
What they say Waterproof zippered packraft bow or stern bag for easily accessible essentials on the water. Fits any Packrafts (and a lot of other boats) by full perimeter daisy chain (for variable fastening). With the Anfibio DeckPack you can transport your essentials safely and securely in all conditions. Splash-sensitive valuables like a camera, keys or documents as well as emergency equipment and spare clothing are always at hand on the bow, the stern or on the floor beneath your knees. The DeckPack can also be quickly converted into a daypack for excursions on land or the use as hand luggage on your journey.
Review The problem with packrafts is there’s nowhere to put your stuff other than the bag it comes in, usually a backpack. I wrote more about it here, before making my own small Pakbag.
Otherwise, I like a 20-30L holdall, like my old Watershed Chattooga, or my current Ortlieb Travel Zip (right) with a handier TiZip and mesh-zip external pockets. These bags sit accessibly, but out of the way, under my knees, and on previous packrafts attached to a tab mount glued to the floor for when you flip.
Anfibio’s DeckPack is another way of doing it. It resembles Alpacka’s larger, 24-litre Bow Bag but costs 25% less at current $/€ rates. It’s a vaguely semi-circular, PU-coated bag of around 22 litres which, unlike the Bow Bag, has a perimetre of daisy-chains (continuous attachment loops, a bit like Molle). It fits most obviously on a packraft’s bow, as this is where most packrafts have four tabs and where the weight trims the boat best. But you could as easily mount it on flatter sterns (as on my Nomad) if you already have a big backpack up front. Anfibio also suggest it can go inside on the floor too. Using the supplied straps, I’ve also used the pack as a daypack shoulder bag while on the trail.
On my Nomad it it just so happened the bow mounting tabs where just right to fit the bag without using the supplied straps. Mini carabiners or more rust-proof fishing snaps (above) enabled a snug fit. So would reusable zip ties – also rustproof. But mounted on the bow it was a bit of a reach on my Nomad unless I shuffled off the seat.
In fact there are enough hull mounts on my Nomad to position it further back (above right) using two front straps. Here it acts as a splash guard extension and was much more accessible on the water without making getting in and out too awkward. It worked similarly well on my Seawave too (below) – something I’ve been trying to work out for years.
Another handy aspect of a DeckPack is that a mounted WindPaddle or similar can be easily folded once and half tucked under the bag out of the way when you’re setting off or need to change direction and start paddling. In strong winds this easy stashing of the sail is an important thing to be able to do easily and quickly; without a deck you can jam it under your knees, but with a deck the DeckPack or similar enables reliable stashing. Then, when you’re ready to sail again, you just pull out the sail and it’s up in a jiffy.
I submerged the DeckPack in the bath and, pushed underwater (ie: under some pressure) air bubbles slowly leaked out via the zip head. But Anfibio tell me:
Please note, the zipper is one-way air penetrable, that means it will release air to the outside under some pressure along the zip, not only the head, but it remains watertight. It is actually rated IPX7. Under any circumstances, it can withstand submersion.
Without pressure, there may be no leakage and so the DeckPack doubles as a secondary buoyancy aid – always reassuring on single-chamber packrafts.
Once I realised it would work well on the IK, I ended up liking the Anfibio DeckPack a bit more than I expected, but here are a couple of suggestions: • Drop the price and make the straps (right) optional. Most paddlers will have their own mounting means or ideas. I use four reusable zip ties,
• A curved, meshed exterior zip pocket would be really handy for knick-knacks or having a GPS in a readable position. Or, run a line of daily-chains alongside the main zip, so you can DIY a mesh pocket to the outside without interfering with the main zip or bodging as I have done (left). It would make the DeckPack even more versatile and save over-working the waterproof zip to access stuff while on the water.
MYO Seatback Mesh Pouch As mentioned above, zipped mesh pouches on exterior surfaces are dead handy. You can put stuff in them, they drain or dry fast and they enable handy access without digging into a main bag. It’s one of the things I like on my Ortlieb Travel Zip.
On eBay I found 9″ x 7″ zip mesh pouches for makeup at about 3 quid each and quite well made. I zip-tied one around the side hem to the buckles on the back of my packraft’s foam backrest (above and below). It’s a handy place to stash the inflation bag, some cord, snaplinks, zip ties and the top-up adapter for my K-Pump. I even fitted one to my Anfibio DeckPack.
Weight:451g (verified); length: 178-210cm, shaft 24mm; blades 34cm x 15.5cm
Where tested: Sardinia sea and lake kayaking; loch packrafting in Scotland
• Very light • Inexpensive • Collapses into 5 parts of 49cm or less • Single lock clamp to vary length and blade offset • Telescopes down to 178cm – good for short paddlers or kids • Would work as an adjustable tarp pole
• Feels flimsy • Small, 34cm flexy blades • Thin 24mm shaft diametre • 210cm is a minimal useful length for chubby packrafts
What they say Those who pay close attention to boat weight and packability should also make the right choice with the paddle. The Anfibio Fly has a minimum weight of just 460g making it an ideal ultra-light companion. It can be broken down into five segments none longer than 49cm so can be easily stored in any daypack. Despite its minimalist features, the Anfibio Fly is well featured for a wide range of uses.
Held up and powered by your arms all day, a paddle wants to be light, but it also needs to be rigid so none of that input is lost in power-sapping flex. Combining the two effectively usually means spending hundreds while still compromising a little on durability. The Anfibio Fly is about as light and compact as a usable paddle gets (a Supai Olo is lighter still). Paddling my packraft downwind I found the 5-piece Fly’s OK,
but the thin shaft and small, bendy blades lacked the solid feel of a conventional, full-sized paddle. Add my ‘Maori-war-party’ paddling style (as I was told, once), and the Fly’s flex didn’t produce the sort of confident propulsion needed in a principle paddle. Even the much lighter and less energetic g-friend didn’t take to it – though that was in our 17-kilo kayak. Used back-to-back against my Werner Corrywrecken, I paddled about 15% slower (5kph vs 6kph max). My other Aqua Bound Manta Ray 4-parter (left) may weigh all of 880g, but without spending at least $500 on something like a Werner Ovation (from 460g), this is simply the mass needed to get the job done at a reasonable cost.
A day later I was paddling into a 10-15mph wind with the solid Corry. It was hard on my arms and hard on the paddle; I needed to rest every 10 minutes and progressed at about 1mph. I’m sure I would have damaged the joints and maybe even broken the Anfibio Fly in such conditions, and yet at some stage, you may find yourself having to do paddle like this to get to shore.
In calm conditions or as a back-up it will be fine and would suit a packrafting trek in a light packraft like an Anfibio Alpha XC where you’re crossing small calm lakes or briefly following benign rivers where you don’t need to power through rapids. The thin-diametre shaft, light weight and length adjustment down to a flex-minimising 178cm would also make the Fly an ideal children’s paddle.
I used Panasonic’s Lumix FT2 wet cameras for 13 years or more, a simple, slim, one-handed, all-weather P&S which didn’t have to be mollycoddled. In 2011 we even used them to make a series of packrafting videos. Later FTs seemed to lose the functionality of the FT2, so as they died or sank, I replaced them with used cheapies off ebay until they got too hard to find. Desert, pocket or sea, I’ve always liked the Lumix range’s preference for a wider 24mm-ish lens. Ridiculous zoom levels were far less important because picture quality dived. But after a really old FT1 burner unsurprisingly failed to survive a few minutes of snorkelling the other month, I decided to step up to a used OlympusTG-5 after some paddle boarders rated them.
Commonly the Olympus TG-5 (now a TG-6 but nearly the same) and Panasonic FT7 (left) get rated as the best P&S waterproof cameras. But they seem expensive for what they are, and when you consider the tiny zoom lens tucked inside the inch-thick body, you’re never going to get great shots, especially in low light or at full zoom.
Even then, my FTs always needed to be tricked into slightly lower (better) exposures by half-clicking on the sky, pulling down and composing before clicking. It was only when I got a Lumix LX100 that I realised a: how handy an EV Comp dial (left) is; I use it on almost every shot. And b: how relatively crappy some of my FT pics were. I used the FT less and less.
Back to the TG-5. Watching one of the vids below I learned it has an unmarked ‘control dial’ in the same, top-right position and which can work as an EV Comp dial. That alone is worth the price of the camera.
Having been inspired to RTFM for once, I now realise the TG-5 is actually much closer to the LX than I though, not least in terms of the staggering number of things it can do. You can even clip on wide or tele converter lenses (a bodge, imo, if photo quality matters) but more usefully, you can fit a clear filter over the vulnerable lens window. For that you need the Olympus CLA-T01 adapter (£20; or a £6 JJC knock-off; above left) to which you then screw in a regular 40.5mm filter: UV, polarised, whatever (above). With a piece of screen guard stuck over the LCD, the Olympus Tough can now be treated Olympus Rough, with both screen guard and UV filter being inexpensively replaceable.
It also has an easy-to-use custom self-timer, a blessing for us paddle-blogging singletons. Normally I’ve had to settle for 3-shots-at-10 seconds, or simply shoot video and extract a cruddy still, but on the TG you press the sequential shooting (‘6 o’clock’) button and press the Info button to edit: • delay (1–30 secs). • number of frames (up to 10) and • frame interval (0.5–3 secs).
I have tried doing selfies with the video and extracting stills, but even on the highest ‘SuperFine’ video setting, the extracted 16:9 still is 1920 x 1080 pixels, while a photo is 4000 x 2256. You do notice the difference so getting to grips wit the custom self-timer is best, even if autofocusing on a passing boat can be hit and miss.
The battery is a slim 1270Ah which does masses of shots (four days or more) and you can charge it in the camera which is one less thing to carry. But for 20 quid I bought 3 clone batteries plus a travel-friendly USB housing rather than a mains charger (right) which will work off a laptop, battery pack, USB wall plug or a solar snorkel.
Once I’d have said GPS position, elevation and a compass in a camera were gimmicks. Now I’d admit they add some redundancy when a proper GPS unit goes flat, as it did on me one time. There’s an easy-access external switch to turn the GPS on to log a waypoint of the picture, for what that’s worth. Otherwise, all the other data, as above, is viewable by simply pressing the Info button with the camera off. Up it comes for 10 secs, north by northwest. The TG-5 will also take great pictures. At home I use my TG almost every day.
Tough by name and tough by nature (see below) Red; easy to find on the river bed EV Comp dial in the usual position Battery charges in the camera Easy to turn on and zoom one-handed (good on a moto) Spare 3rd-party batteries from £4; USB charger from £8 Good hand grip Rated at 15m of water so ought to survive some splashes Slim and light (260g with chunky wrist strap) GPS, elevation, compass, and even tracking with the camera off Easy to access and configure custom self-timer
A baffling new menu to master – sigh LCD text is a bit small Expensive, but discounted to ~£330 new That’s it!
A smashing camera Two times I thought I’d killed my TG, as I’ve done with so many cameras over the years. Biking in the Moroccan Sahara one time, the red wrist strap loosened unnoticed and the TG tumbled along a hard road at 30mph. Picking it up, one corner was smashed in, but amazingly it still worked. I taped up the hole, gluing it later and used it for a few more years. Scotland 2021: lunch on a slatted plank bridge up a glen. The camera slipped out of my pocket and fell through the gap into the a stream bed where it lay for at least five minutes before I noticed. This must be it, surely; just as long as the SD card makes it. Because I never use it under water, I’ve never bothered silicone-greasing the two access doors as they recommend, but I fished it out, blew the water out of the battery compartment and it still took pictures! But soon the screen gradually clouded over, so did the lens and one by one, functions dropped away. Eventually turning it on gave nothing. Water must have worked its way though the system, shorting everything out. Back home, a couple of days later I bought another used TG and had just started stripping the old one when I thought, I’ll just slip a battery in on the off chance. To my utter amazement the TG5 fired up good as before. All functions resumed and photos saved to and exported from an SD card. This is a Tough camera! I now have a spare as-new TG5 one which I was thinking about getting anyway.