Tag Archives: poole harbour

Taking the Piddle: Wareham Two Rivers Loop

TXL main page

Wareham – between two rivers
Frome Safari 2005

You do one paddle in two years then do two in a row. Honestly, you could not make this up! Take the Saxon walled town of Wareham – wrested back from the beardy Viking hordes by King Alfred in 875. It sits snuggly between the tidal reach of two rivers: the Frome to the south, and the smaller Piddle (aka: Trent) on the northern edge.
East of Wareham there’s a Two Rivers Walk which more or less replicates this paddle: down one river and up the other. I’ve paddled up and down the Frome loads of times. In fact 20 years ago last week I wobbled along the Frome in my very first IK – an early Gumotex Safari (left) that was tippier than a hog on ice.

The Piddle flows below the northern remnants of the old Saxon walls, and I’d long assumed it was clogged, weir-ed, patrolled by angling militias or otherwise inaccessible to the recreational paddleur. Not so, said our paddle-boarding builder who ID’d a put-in near the pre-Norman church of St Martin’s on the Wall, the oldest in Dorset. I recall checking it out in the 1990s while updating a UK guidebook, looking for the tomb-like effigy of T.E.Lawrence (left) who was died on his motorbike up the road at Bovington.

We walked down a private drive/footpath to North Mill (above; a self-catering) and put in by the brick bridge (left). It felt like their front garden, so next time I’d cross the bridge through the gate and put in somewhere on the north bank.
It’s a brambly, 3-foot drop either way into the swift but foot-deep Piddle. Piddle is of course a Naughty Word, so I should not bandy it about, willy-nilly, but in the ancient Saxon dialect of Dorse, it means a small stream. Along its upper course, several west Dorset villages: Tolpuddle, Affpuddle, Piddlehinton Puddletown, Mein’dapuddle and Piddletrenthide, take their names from it. (Test: one of those names is made up).

We left about 4 hours before HW at Wareham so we’d be against the tide (and a SE wind) as we neared Poole Harbour, but later have both at our backs as we heaved wearily up the Frome back into town.

Below the bridge the old mill weir was easy to walk down (to spare the skeg). It’s not always so; sometimes the water meadows here get inundated. I bundled in and held on while the Mrs caught up. Once in the boat we felt like kids wearing oversized trench coats. I’d forgotten that when not using the Multimat floor (which makes less space inside when two-up) you inflate the seat bases right up. That done, we navigated down an overgrown channel, dodging overhanging branches and other rampaging midsummer verdure.

Soon we passed under Wareham North Bridge and its famous 18th-century sign strongly discouraging bridge vandals with a life sentence to Botany Bay. 

We paddled through a hidden world of drooping willows and silent lilies. At times it all closed right in and we were pushing and pulling through the dense overgrowth and branches, while getting pelted by dropping insects.

The detritus of bawdy summer parties.

Gradually the Piddle opened out. Somewhere around here we reached the tidal reach and entered a dreary, reed-lined corridor. The pace slowed down as tide and wind pushed against us.

Near Poole harbour a few of these old rowing canoes caught my eye. They looked like something left over from D-Day training. Or maybe just long unused fishing club water craft. Anyone know more? Waterfowl punts I hear from the back.

Out in Poole Harbour the water was less than a foot deep so we aimed for the red and green deep channel markers leading south to the mouth of Frome. Up ahead, the Arne peninsula. We turned into the Frome and the long hack back inland began. Even with a backtide, the Frome meanders to all corners of the compass so at some points you’re into the wind. Thick reeds to either side make you wonder how you’d get ashore if the call to abandon ship was announced.

A nice red boat – a sloop perhaps?

Paddling onwards, energy levels were also beginning to sloop, but we finally pulled in at Wareham Quay where early evening revellers were feeding the ducks. Originally bequeathed to the town by Alfred the Great following his expulsion of the Norsemen, a Purbeck legend has it that should the ducks ever leave Wareham Quay the kingdom will fall.
It was fun to try something new, but we’d not rush back to do the Wareham Two Rivers Loop.

Down the Piddle, into Poole Harbour and up the Frome to Wareham Quay. 8.5km and about 3 hours

Back home disaster struck me down. As anticipated, my Anfibio handpump’s vulnerable handle snapped off in transit. Anfibio revised the pump by making a screw-off handle (below right), but mine was the old type.
A new one is £15 posted in the UK so I bodged mine by simply gluing and cable-tying the hose directly to the shaft, then adding a bit of garden hose to make a hand grip while pumping. Assuming it lasts, it ought to be much less snap prone. You can’t buy this type of balloon pump on eBay any more, but I found a smaller ball pump for 6 quid (left) which could be as good with the black adaptor modified. We shall see. Every inflatable needs a pump or two.

Igla 410 • Sailing Poole Harbour

Zelgear Igla 410 Index Page

For the last fortnight the Wessex skies have been clear, and warm winds have blown from the east. After six months in the garage I finally get round to taking the Igla for a day out. Hard to believe I’ve only been out in the Zelgear IK once in mid-winter.
A closer look at the south side of Poole Harbour is the plan, and a 25-minute drive drops me off just before the Sandbanks ferry inlet which we crossed last year in packrafts.

The tide was inbound and the forecast 13mph from the east, rising later and with gusts predicted at twice that according to some sources. Ideal for some downwind sailing action! The plan was to explore as much of the Harbour’s southern shore as wind, curiosity, energy and draught would allow.

The 0.25 bar hull has been inflated for six months and lost a little pressure. I’d fully deflated the removable 0.5 bar DS floor and refitting it, decided a quick squirt of 303 anti-UV lube underneath and on the ‘horns’ would help it slide snugly into the correct position.
I sawed off a bit of 12cm drainpipe to make a bigger footrest tube for my bigger feet. (Original Zelgear footrest tube on the right).
It’s only a two-minute carry through the trees from road to beach, but requires passing through the ‘TPZ’ or toilet paper zone.
I drop my lunch into the boat. It’s going to be a hot paddle. At the back, Brownsea Island.
Oo-er, the Igla (‘Needle’) feels a tad wobbly, but then it’s an IK not a packraft. I deflate the seat with the handy twist-valve tube until I’m just resting on the DS floor. That’s better and once hooked into the cushy knee straps I feel secure and snug. The Igla’s seat is by far the most comfortable IK seat I’ve tried. It doesn’t have to be complicated or heavy.
Like a migrating gannet, I venture forth in search of the wind.
Soon it finds me.
I glide past the southern cliffs of Green Island. Signs discourage landing. Nearby chaps are doing tight circles in small dinghies, dredging or fishing for something. Not knowing the landmarks yet, I keep having to refer to my Garmin’s OS map to go the right way.

Right now I’m reading We, the Navigators; The Ancient Art of Landfinding in the Pacific by David Lewis (1972, open source pdf). In it he explains how Oceania (or Micronesia, Melanesia and Polynesia) were populated by intrepid Asian seafarers – contrary to what the famous Kon Tiki expedition sought to prove. Some had mastered the art of navigating hundreds of miles of open Pacific without any kind of instruments, memorising instead a combination of stars (rising and setting points were like compass bearings) as well as prevailing winds and waves, refracted swells from unseen islands and unseen currents (flying fish always jump down-current; fyi). Travelling with the incredulous author, after days at sea aged South Sea navigators regularly found a tiny pin-prick of an island bang on time.
It’s a fascinating topic but the book focuses purely on the techniques, rather than the adventures they all clearly shared for months. David Lewis’s earlier book, Daughters of the Wind (catamaran from UK to NZ via Cape Horn with young family) may be a more engaging read, and was a voyage on which Lewis practised the instrument and chart-free techniques he later documented in the Navigators.

It’s blowing nowhere near 13mph and when the wind drops or I turn off it, one twist of the sail and it tucks easily under a foot, ready for redeployment in seconds. The system works very well.

We cycled a trail along the southern shore the other day, branching up to the harbour at a cottage on Ower Bay. From there I couldn’t work out what the wooded island was to the NW. Turns out it’s the south end of Round Island. Sgurr nan Cruinn, that might be in Gaelic.

I rounded the southern end of Round Island, passing more dinghymen doing full-lock burn-outs. There’s the long jetty as shown on maps. On the left the mainland shore of Arne.
I ride up past Shipstal Point, one of the few points where footpaths reach the sea. A couple of SoT’s are beached up ahead, including a Sandbanks Style Optimal which I tested here a couple of years back. They’re going to have a rum old haul eastwards back to Sandbanks against the rising wind.
I’m not wearing my glasses so don’t see the low spit of Patchams Point until I’m right on it.
I have to turn east into the wind to get round it, scattering Oyster Catchers as I go. The taut Igla responds well.
I pull over to inspect that state of regeneration and other incisive environmental initiatives. Soon I’ll pass Russel Quay where we put in the packraft the other day. I’m hoping for a good run with the wind towards the Frome river mouth.
I get it but it’s not the high speed thrill I was hoping for. Plus it’s blowing me west, when I need to be going southwest. One flaw with my bowsprit idea is the lack of slack reduces the angle you can pull the WindPaddle to steer off the wind, especially when it’s not very strong.

The wind picks up, or get its fetch on at the downwind end of the Harbour. I’ve squeezed all the west i could from the wind and must now turn south. So I stow the sail and paddle a crosswind pushing me towards ancient stakes and into the reeds.

I follow a boat into the hidden river mouth and, with the wind now up to 20mph, I can sail a lot of the river’s meanders the two miles west to Wareham Quay.

With the wind whistling through the rigging, I hear a ‘Bloody hell, wow…’. It’s a moored boater expressing surprise as my kayak sails by as close to the 4-knot limit. I learned a new sailing trick: to micro steer the boat drag a left hand in the water to bring the bow round to the left. It worked well zig-zaging up the Frome.

Like a Polynesian master navigator, after my ten-mile traverse of the Harbour, I sail right up to the Quay…

.. casually hop out, and look around for my taxi.

IK or packraft, I wonder to myself. Environment or geography (as well as intended use) help define the best suited packboat. My TXL would have managed this outing fine, if a tad slower, but it sure is nice when the Igla slices through the water, either under sail or into the wind. The problem in this corner of Dorset is, once one tires of noisy, busy, drab but safe Poole Harbour, apart from Swanage (below), getting the inflated 17kg IK down to the exposed Jurassic Coast in suitable conditions is a bit of a faff, even with wheels, let alone getting back out and closing the loop with cars in place. You may as well use hardshells. That’s why I chose the long but still light TXL packraft.
Down here I’m not straying out to islands where speed and efficiency are important. For plain old calm-weather mainland coast hugging, a large packraft does the job and enables public transport, an easy scramble ashore followed by a walk back. But for an effortless coastal tour with plenty of room for two, the Igla has its benefits. It’ll easily paddle at 8kph on a breeze too light to hold up a sail and that’s an extra 30% more speed or so less sustained effort over a few hours.

Packraft Sailing Poole Harbour

Anfibio TXL Index Page
See also: Sailing Across Poole Harbour (IK)

Of all the zones in all the world…

Holy moly, end of May and first paddle of the year? It’s been a busy winter and the arm’s been playing up so time to break in with an easy packraft across a back corner of Poole Harbour, our locale for the summer.
Sailing Russel Quay back to Wareham with the tide and the wind sounded like a good one – a mile’s walk + 5 on the water. Although it clashes with our hitherto pristine eco credentials, we have two cars down here, so we leave one in town and the other at Arne.

Teetering on the edge of Open Access land.

This whole area south of the Harbour is a largely undeveloped heathland with rare wildlife and part of an RSPB ‘super reserve’. On the day the famous BBC Springwatch crew were installed for a fortnight or more, motion sensing cameras probing various nests and burrows. Thick power cables lined our track leading up north to the put in near long gone Russel Quay. I’m not fully sure it was a right of way. Dodging irate English Nimbies is going to take some practice after the freedom of the Scottish northwest coast we became accustomed to.
But ironically this area also has the biggest knot of land-based oil wells in western Europe. They’re the small, nodding donkey type, not towering rigs but a couple of months ago one of the pipelines sprung a leak in Ower Bay near the processing plant on the less accessible south shore. Luckily it wasn’t an Exxon Valdez event and at higher tides there could be some good packboat exploring in this inlet-rich area. It’s all we’ll have here bar the more exposed Jurassic Coast.

Not exactly the Summer isles, but it’ll have to do. You don’t get a May week of 20°C+ and full sun up there.
I try to remember what to do and in what order.
Note the water skier. With my typical ‘let’s-wing-it’ lack of due diligence, we’d stumbled on one of the few ‘PWC’ zones on Poole Harbour. (The link’s map is missing but may be what’s at the top of the page.)
Well, stood at the shore it looked like a good north-easterly for a while.
OMG, more menacing water-hoons! It’s a bank holiday Sunday and turns out we were right on their sole permitted skiing corridor. RTFM!
Once on the water there’s barely enough wind to blow out a scented candle from Purbeck Handicrafts.
But according to the GPS, paddling most of the time we did momentarily zip along with the tide.
As it is, tides in the Harbour have quite a prolonged high water period which will be useful. This is a spring tide in a few days.
We should have just cruised close to the shore where motorboats fear to tread. Next time we’ll know.
Near Gigger’s Island we pass a motionless hardsheller, like a heron deep in thought.
Without my GPS, first time finding the Frome river entrance would have been tricky.
Soon impenetrable reeds line the banks, our speed drops and pot-bellied boaters cruise by at 4 knots.
I can see this 2.5-mile river stretch might soon become a chore at the end of a long paddle and an ill tide.
Never get out of the boat? We couldn’t if we tried, but near the river mouth there’s a small jetty and a track back to town. Good to know but with an IK, I’ll need some wheels.

That night we catch a bit of Springwatch on the iPlayer but, as expected, I can stomach the hyper-saturated, happy-clappy ‘Phil & Holly of Wildlife’ for only so long. It’s the final finale of Succession – what are we waiting for!?
A probing bike recce of the south shore is needed. More Poole Harbouring to come.

Tested: Sandbanks Style Optimal IK review

See also:
Full drop-stitch inflatable kayaks main page
Advanced Elements AirVolution (similar design)

In a line
Stable, good looking and good value two-chamber full dropstitch IK.

• Reassuringly stable but not too slow
• Easy to get in and out
• Everything in the bag bar a buoyancy aid
• Effortless two-way Bravo SUP pump
• Capacious wheelie-rucksack bag
Three Five-year warranty

• Usual budget paddles; a bit short too
• Minimal underdeck storage
• Thin, hard seatbases
• Floor-mounted backrest supports
• No footrests
• No repair kit included/listed online

What They Say
The Optimal is an inflatable, crossover kayak that truly excels in any water and is designed to feel just like a solid kayak and not compromise on performance. The Optimal will help inspire confidence in with a balanced rocker profile for speed on the flat and manoeuvrability in whitewater. The V-shaped hull is designed for stability and also helps the Optimal cut through the water effortlessly. The rounded stern sheds water easily, making it forgiving in moving water. There are luggage straps at the front and rear so it has plenty of room for dry bags and gear for your day on the water.  

  • Inflated: 427cm long x 89cm wide (14′ x 35″)
  • Deflated 105cm x 58cm x 30cm
  • Kayak 19kg
  • Maximum load 231kg
  • Three year warranty
  • Price: £769 at time of review. Summer 2025: £749.00 sale £499

Thanks to Sandbanks Style for the boat loan

On the Quay

Based by Poole Harbour, iSUP-board brand Sandbanks Style offer a couple of full dropstitch (FDS) inflatable kayaks: the three-panel ‘Explorer’ similar to the Shipwreck Arrowstream I tested, and this two-panel Optimal, also in solo and tandem lengths.
The Optimal resembles (but is not a clone of) Advanced Elements’ AirVolution – as far as I know the first to use this design in 2020. The AquaTec Ottawa Pro (scroll down the linked page) is a similar design.

These types of FDS IKs use two slightly folded dropstitch panels wrapped in a PVC envelope; a ‘clamshell’ design which creates a small, low cavity under each deck. The upper panel is more of an elongated ring; the aperture forming the cockpit you sit inside. It’s similar to Perception’s Prodigy 145 hardshell (right), a kayak design favoured by recreational paddlers who prefer IK-like ease of access over a fixed deck, but don’t want a tippier and more wind-prone canoe.

All tandem Sandbanks kayaks come with a pair of four-part 220cm paddles, a two-way, two-litre Bravo 100 SUP pump, a skeg and a huge wheeled bag to carry it all. The whole package for the Optimal double weighs nearly 27 kilos with room to spare in the bag. The rolled up boat itself seemed less bulky, or at least folded up more compactly than the Shipwreck. The turquoise/white PVC did have a nice, pliant texture which may have had something to do with it. I’ve found the quality and feel of PVC varies greatly from boat to boat.

Inflation took about 7 minutes to reach an indicated 12psi on the pump’s gauge, which matched the reading on my handheld manometer. Using the 65-cm high pump means less stooping and was initially so effortless I thought I hadn’t plugged it in correctly. For the floor I flicked the switch to down-pumping only, but for the top chamber, with a better stance (left) I was able to reach full pressure using faster but more effortful up-and-down (two-way) pumping. I didn’t notice a deflation port on the pump to help suck the boat down for repacking, which is a shame. This is clearly a gangly iSUP pump which isn’t expected to be taken on the water.

Once inflated, the top and bottom panels press together along the edges, sealing off a cavity with the outer hull envelope that wraps around the two panels (see graphic above). In this way it’s similar to my old Seawave, making a side channel where water and debris can collect. The Optimal’s two panels may press together although water and debris got in the channel too. But, compared to most three-panel FDS IKs, you can directly access this part of the boat for proper cleaning.
Measuring up the inflated boat gave the dimensions below; at 440cm (14′ 5″) – all round a bit longer, wider and heavier than what appears on Sandbanks’ website. Plus ca change… Dividing length by width gives an LxW ratio of 4.78 which, compared to the table here prioritises stability over speed, though other factors, not least hull shape and rigidity as well as wind and waves, will influence the latter.

Thanks to glue-free heat-welding the whole high-pressure assembly is very clean with no untoward creases or anomalies. Only the black plastic end-cones stayed a bit deformed. I also noticed that after inflation the floor protruded a couple of inches on one side. But by the time I got back, a little hull flexing had realigned the two panels correctly. Underneath you’ll notice a ‘blister’ in the dropstitch (above right). This isn’t a flaw as some have thought, it’s opposite the floor panel’s inflation valve where there is no stitching.

Straight away you can see it’s not just two flat slabs of dropstitch, but a floor somehow folded up into a shallow ‘V’ to make a keel line (left) which, combined with the deep skeg, ought to ensure the Optimal paddles arrow-straight. The top panel has a similar downturn like the AE AirVolution, to ensure water run off the decks. These ‘clamshell’ angles create a space underneath each deck, but they’re too low to be of much use for storage.

At over 2.3 metres or 7.5 feet long and up to 50cm wide, the cockpit feels roomy for two adults. There are four D-rings on the floor for the backrest straps (but see below), with a four more rings up on the sides to counter-tension the backrests.
A side benefit of the cockpit’s overhanging side rim is you can easily pick up and carry the boat. If there are two of you, use the nicely padded carry handles at each end.

The floor’s shallow V is reflected inside, so any water will pool along the centre line and, depending on the boat’s trim, will run back towards the drain plug hole at the back of the floor. In my opinion this a bafflingly redundant and marginally effective gimmick that gets copied from boat to boat. Either flip the boat over to drain, or position the drain in the stern cone
A rear paddler could benefit from the back deck edge to lean on, and the front paddler might be able to use the edge of the front deck as a footrest. You might also shove a folded bag under either deck, otherwise gear will have to go under the paddlers’ knees or on top of each deck, using the bungy cords. They’re a commonly seen and inexpensive ‘feature’ on IKs, but I’ve never thought it a great place to lash gear that’s hard to access once on the water. As it is, used solo, there would be enough room to stash a camping load low on the wide floor.

Seats are the usual light, stiff foam items, with four, two-point straps and brass-coated? clips to keep the backrest upright and get your position just right. The floor mounted D-rings for the forward straps would be better positioned on the sides, like the rear strap mounts, putting them in line with the direction of tension. Otherwise the backrest tends to pull down as you rest against it.

Thanks to these long straps I was able to fit the seat in the optimal rear-of-centre position for solo paddling, using all four of the higher D-rings on the sides, resulting in good back support. I knew the main problem would be the lack of a footrest and the ~inch-thick seatbase sat on a hard, 12psi floor; within an hour the backside and legs would be numb and the back sore from slouching. (I notice Sandbanks’ three-panel Explorers do come with footrests.) Expecting this, I’d brought an inflatable packraft seatbase to try-out, as well as a strap to rig up a footrest off the floor D-rings. Pushing off some kind of footrest stops you sliding down the seat, so enabling a proper upright paddling posture.

The 220cm four-part, alloy shaft paddle weighs around 950g and has three blade-angle adjustment holes about 45° either side of flat. It will do the job in calm conditions, but the soft plastic blade easily deforms. Expecting a mushy budget paddle, I brought my own Werner paddle.

Underneath the stern goes the slot-and-peg skeg. At 20cm high, combined with the V hull, the Optimal ought to track like a TGV.
There’s no conformity label stating recommended pressures, payloads, CE stamp and so on, but I noticed a serial number (‘HIN’) at the back. This was a used boat, but there was no repair kit in the wheelie bag pocket, nor is a kit listed online, but the Optimal comes with a three- (now 5) year warranty.

On the Water

Putting in at Salterns jetty on the northeast shore of Poole harbour, I had various plans for my test paddle. Maybe a five-mile run out through the narrow harbour mouth to Old Harry Rocks which I’ve been keen to revisit. Or at the very least, a lap around Brownsea Island; about the same distance.
But on the day a chilly, 20mph NNW wind reduced my options. Even a quick crossing to Brownsea would have made getting back tricky in an unfamiliar boat, especially as the peak of a spring tide would be running southeast with the wind by the early afternoon.

So I set off into the wind, heading towards Poole. Taking it on the nose with the Werner paddle was an effort, but with no fetch, the water surface was only a little ruffled and the Optimal cut through at a up to 4kph. But as soon as I turned a little off the wind the front was pushed round and required a lot of correcting (as would any buoyant and tall-sided IK on a day like today).
I reached the shelter of another marina where above me the wind whistled merrily through a forest of masts, and the orange windsock waggled about a few degrees below horizontal.

Here I decided to rig up a footrest strap to help brace myself in the seat and improve my draw, then set out with the four-part paddle. I could feel the blades flexing as soon as I left the shelter of the marina and had to dig in, and also found the 220-cm length a bit short; at 92cm or three feet, the Optimal is as wide as a packraft. These budget four-parters with riveted-on blades are great for beginners and mellow paddles, but over time the joints will loosen up, creating even more slack. After a few minutes I swapped back to my stiff Werner.

Windy

The wind flattened the water with no chop to speak of, so I tried paddling across the wind – tricky in any paddle boat. The deep skeg meant the bow pivoted downwind, requiring masses of correction. Better to know this now than when trying to get back from Brownsea Island with a train to catch, so I put that idea to bed.
Any IK would have struggled to hold its line broadside to the gusting 20mph wind, but if the plastic skeg was trimmed to half its length I suspect the hull would be more ‘balanced’ across the wind, while not sacrificing any tracking. This goes for any of the current crop of IKs with these overlong slot-in skegs. A spare skeg might cost a tenner, so the experiment poses little risk.

Turning the boat back into the wind was a huge effort; I was having to yank on my paddle from the middle to get it to turn. Once back on line I carried on up to some buoys and tried the boat downwind where it held it’s line well; the deep skeg and the flat water meant little weathercocking (back end coming round). As with any kayak, wavier conditions which momentarily lifted the skeg out of the water would have been a different matter.

I headed for a park on the north side of the harbour to hop out and see how the Optimal handled without the skeg. Coming back downwind, the boat tracked no worse than my unskeged Seawave might have done. You can’t paddle quite as hard while maintaining a straight line, but you can easily weave tight figure-of-eights in and out of some buoys. On a river with a current, the added manoeuvrability (and clearance) without a skeg might be a better set-up.

I also inflated my packraft seatbase (left) to see if the raised position and air cushion would be more comfortable. But on the hard seatbase and floor, it merely wobbled around like a jelly and made things worse. I know from similar accessory pads for motorbikes that you want just enough air to support your weight, but on a surface with no give it just didn’t work. A better solution would be to add a foam block similar to what came with the Arrowstream (but which on that boat I couldn’t use as the raised height made it unstable).

The wind was blowing me in the right direction anyway, but I decided to take back control and slip into what maps call the Blue Lagoon, an inlet ringed by houses with private jetties. Maybe ‘Blue Lagoon’ was cooked up by estate agents; it’s said this side of Poole Harbour has the highest density of Britain’s most expensive houses.

Appropriately, the tide dropping through the bay’s narrow entrance made accessing the Blue Lagoon tricky. I squeezed in along the edge of the current which was a good demonstration the boat’s agility and responsiveness. But once inside things were already getting too shallow, so I backed out and threw myself into the modest tidal race then ferried across it just to see if I could. Maybe the lack of a skeg (but with the footbrace) made this sort of manoeuvre easier.

Test route

I refitted the skeg and drifted south round to the lee side of my Salterns marina put in where all was calm as long as I kept close to the wall. Overall, with a skeg was better but as said, I’d try chopping a spare down by half.

After ticking off a few selfies with the camera balanced on a buoy, I only just made it back round the corner to the jetty against the funnelled tide and wind, then bounced over the clapotis to where the sea had already dropped a foot, exposing Poole Harbour’s notorious mudflats. As newbs on a foggy day back in 2005 (left), we’d got caught out on one of my very first IK paddles in a Gumotex Safari.

Once on shore the Optimal rolled up into the bag easily, though having both valves at the same end would make purging the air in one roll easier (or having a pump with a suction port). Had I the chance, I’d have rinsed it by resting the bow up on something, open the stern drain and then deflate the floor. This ought to give you access to the otherwise sealed-off side cavities where debris and water collect. Then hose from the top and most of it will flush out the drain hole before a wipe down.

It was a shame not being able to get stuck into a proper paddle to somewhere, but I enjoyed my brief spin on the Optimal. For £769 at the time (£499 in 2025) – about £150 less than similar, heavily discounted Ottawa Pro doubles you might find online, and nearly half the price of the AE AirVolution, the Optimal is a solid double FDS which would work well solo once you add a footrest tube (easily done using the floor D-rings). Budget paddles and thin seats are what you’d expect at this price – as it is, comfortable seats are an issue with many FDS IKs. But the boat looks well made and the pump is easily up to the job. Plus you’re buying from an actual UK shop you can go and visit, not some shouty, sell-it-all web-based entity with flakey customer service.

As FDS IKs go, I think I prefer the two-panel ‘clamshell’ design. It feels more sophisticated, or is dynamically no worse than the the masses of three-chamber FDSs which sell for a bit less. The crux is stability which most recreational IK users rightly prioritise (or soon learn to). The Optimal may have that to excess, but as I also found on that very first paddle in 2005 (left), better too much than not enough.