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“Fish Pigs” by Yack Sabbath

“Fish Pigs” by Yack Sabbath

Let’s face it, life would be a lot better if everybody everywhere had his own theme music. I mean, if some big movie or TV hero just gets into his car and drives somewhere, a whole symphony orchestra suddenly cranks up with blasting trumpets and pounding drums and such, and you KNOW that some heavy stuff is about to come down!

And, deep in your heart, you know — know, mind you! — that because you are a real person and not some fictional character, because you are the hero of your life… well, my friends, in any truly just universe, you would deserve something like that.

I mean, who among us, while hurtling down the highway toward some ramp or launch site, hasn’t psyched himself up with some favorite tunes blasting out of the dashboard, right?
But, always, there’s that inevitable letdown when a little voice in some tiny corner of your brain reminds you: “Yeah, but it’ll never be perfect, because it’s not about kayak fishing, it’s just some rock song! I want some kayak fishing music!!”

Well, ladies and gentlemen, today is the day that we all take one tiny step forward toward a great sea-change in American culture — the birth of kayak fishing Rock n’ Roll! Sure, it won’t catch on all at once. Cultural paradigm shifts take time. Maybe the next step will happen in some sleazy dockside dive, when a totally hammered old kayak fishing guide who got skunked that day decides to change Karaoke Night forever. Maybe some late-night DJ at a 50-watt teakettle in Steinhatchee gets some bad ‘shrooms and goes “all kayak fishin’ music, all the time!” But I submit to you that, at last, our long national nightmare will soon be over.

And so, complete with italicized mouth-guitar pseudo-sounds for your further enjoyment, here are the complete lyrics to…..

“Fish Pigs” by Yack Sabbath

DUH-duh!
Fishes gathered in their masses
DUH-duh!
Spotted trout and channel basses
DUH-duh!
Some use fangs for bait destruction
DUH-duh!
Some use grinding teeth and suction
DUH-duh!
On the flats the baitball’s churning
DUH-duh!
As the spinning reels keep turning… Oh, Lord yeah!

DUH-duh… da-duh-duh-DUUUUH-DUUUUH
DUH-duh… da-duh-duh-DUUUUH-DUUUUH

(Fiddler crabs just hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out and get devoured
When they can dig into the shore?)

DUH-duh!
Now at sunrise tide starts turning
DUH-duh!
Mud clouds where the rays are churning
DUH-duh!
No more redfish have the power
DUH-duh!
Walk-the-Dog has struck the hour
DUH-duh!
Day of Judgment, drags are squawling
DUH-duh!
Dorsals up and redfish hauling
DUH-duh!
Begging mercy for their sins
DUH-duh!
Kayakfisherman laughs and grins… Oh, Lord yeah!

DUH-duh… da-duh-duh-DUUUUH-DUUUUH
DUH-duh… da-duh-duh-DUUUUH-DUUUUH

(DISCLAIMER: Only a few dozen beers were harmed during the production of this head-tune.)

Check Your Six

Your Annual Obligatory General Risk-Reduction Warning and Ever-So-Subtle Reminder of Your (ahem) Mortality

from the desk of

T. G. Reaper, Superintendent
Department of Collections

Dear Humans,

You guys are really cards. I love to hang around and listen in (when I’m “off-duty”, so to speak, or as I like to refer to it, “between clients”).

See, you’ve never understood how I work. Hell, I don’t even own a scythe or a hooded cloak. I’m not walking around with some moldy old parchment book with your name and an appointment time in it. God doesn’t send Mandy Patinkin a post-it note at the Waffle House to collect your sorry butt at 4:17 PM. Agent Smith doesn’t put a Lady In Red into the Matrix. No, I just hang out and wait for YOU to put enough “requests” in the hopper at the same time.

I work on a system called the Simultaneous Request Score. The brittle steel and the iceberg alone couldn’t have called me to the Newfoundland Bank in 1912, it was all those White Star officials telling the reporters how “unsinkable” their new ship was. “Ice warnings? Bah! Full speed ahead, we’ve got investors to impress!” Children use the marvelous gesture of holding their thumb to their nose and wiggling their upright fingers while musically yelling, “Nyaaaah-nyah-nyah-nyaaaah-nyah.” When children do it, it’s both cute and highly visible. When you do it, it’s neither — so I come running, stand very near you, and wait for your Simultaneous Request Score to hit a certain critical limit.

You’ve already loaded your “SRS meter” with brilliant thoughts like “Nah, It’s flat out there today, I can just stow my PFD!” or “Hey, it’s not THAT cold, cotton’ll do just fine!” or “Spare paddle? Nah!”. Sissy crap like a float plan? No-o-o-o-o, not for a rugged he-man like you, bub. But the best part — the part that keeps us rolling on the floor down here in the Collection Department — is that your “nyah-nyah” — the thing that is going to kick YOUR Simultaneous Request Score into the red zone — is almost certain to be ……. (Darwinian drum roll, please) ……. plain old I-N-A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N.

I’ve heard a lot of fishing-related close-call stories over the years, and the most glaring common denominator — in the ones that didn’t involve alcohol, anyway — is that they usually began with something like, “Wow, they were really biting and I got distracted and wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings….” (or to the weather, or to nearby watercraft, or to whatever). Well, I’m sorry, but what I hear there is: “I’m a total nimrod and have no business whatsoever being in a potentially lethal outdoor environment anywhere on the planet. Please come and pick me up just as soon as possible. Please! Kill me now!”

Well…….if you absolutely insist…….

You have voluntarily placed your absolutely and unequivocally mortal keister into the rotomolded equivalent of a stretched-out bathtub, and paddled out on top of a one-molecule-thin barrier that separates you from an environment in which you cannot possibly breathe, and where Gravity still applies, and which is populated by a variety of organisms which will cheerfully and enthusiastically feast upon your flesh! Your head needs to be swiveling like a turret at all times. Your eyes need to be on articulated stalks. And you need to be in the habit of staying that way — because, yes, I am out there actually stalking you —yes, you — and I’m not carrying a scythe or wearing a hooded cloak. I may not be that psycho trying to make an airboat actually fly. I often wear much subtler little disguises: that sick, yellow-green look the sunlight gets before the bolts come; those short little intermittent “puffs” of humid breeze that disturb the dead morning air before I make my devastating landfall; the utter silence as my massive, sunken limbs tumble downcurrent toward your improperly-trolleyed anchor rope; that knife that’s just a teensy-weensy smidge too far away from an easy reach; those batteries you didn’t rotate.

Yeah, I’m there all the time. And your meter is already in the red zone. And all I’m waiting for……. is for you to not notice, comprende?

Better check six, pal.

Sincerely,

The Grim Reaper
Yourspot, Yourstatehere 98765-4321

No, You Don’t Know the Sex of that Largemouth

“Fishing Lore” vs. Hard Science

All too often, as taxpaying fishermen, we’re guilty — yeah, me, too — of griping that we’re not getting enough fisheries-improving bang for our bucks. But if those improvements are made, and we fail to use them — or, worse, fail to even make any effort to find out where and what they are — then we’re being both hypocritical and willfully ignorant.

A lot of our fishing-related taxes and fees go into hard scientific research. A lot of sharp, hardworking academics have been toiling for a lot of years at trying to make us smarter fishermen. And, for the most part, we’ve been ignoring them. If we need to know whether, say, there is a correlation between lure size and color and the average size of fish caught in a given body of water, we’ll log into some forum and let a bunch of people share their (often extensive) anecdotal experiences. Absolutely nothing wrong with that whatsoever. You might actually learn something. I certainly have.

The problem is that we often use either the plausibility of a statement to determine its validity — or, worse, its degree of acceptance by others. We “old pros” often blithely pass along our hard-won “knowledge”, and sometimes — sometimes, mind you — we’re dead wrong. Let me give you an example.

You’ve seen it done a thousand times by fishing-TV-show hosts. They lip a largemouth, hold it up and announce that it is a male or a female (usually based on a cursory visual examination of one or more of its gross physiological characteristics — girth, gut shape, yada-yada-yada). I used to do this. Maybe your buddies do this. Maybe you do it.

“Mmmm. Nice little male.”

“Ooooo-EEE! Lookit THIS ol’ gal! She’s jist BULGIN’ with babies!”

If so, please stop. You are merely perpetuating yet another useless piece of “wisdom-of-the-crowd” fishing “lore” that is absolute 100% unadulterated horse manure.

FACT: Nobody — not even a biologist — can accurately tell the sex of a given bass at a glance!

There are only three relatively simple and practical field methods of determining the sex of a largemouth bass, and two of them, depending upon the season, may provide about the same accuracy as flipping a coin:

1. Determining the presence or absence of a swollen, reddish genital papilla — and while this method can be up to 89% accurate in the spring, it is only 48% accurate in the fall;

2. Examining the shape of the scaleless area surrounding the urogenital opening — and this method is only 53% accurate at any time;

3. Measuring the depth and angle of probe penetration into the urogenital opening — and this method only offers a relatively high probability of accuracy (90-98%) if you do both, and with the proper instrument.

So the next time some “old pro” just holds up a bass, looks at it and says, “This one’s a male!” or “This one’s a female!”, you should tell them precisely where they need to stick it — and exactly how deep.

Source: Practical Field Methods of Sexing Largemouth Bass, G.W. Benz and R.P. Jacobs, The Progressive Fish-Culturist (1986;48:221-225)

Take Your Tide Charts With a Dose of Salt

A common complaint that you’ll hear from newbies on fishing forums is basically, “Man, the tide charts for ___ were all wrong yesterday!” Every time I read one of these, I am reminded of Steve Gibson’s funny story about being an invited speaker at a fishing club. The members wanted to pick the best day to hold a tournament, so they pulled out their tide charts. Steve asked them what the tide chart showed for right now (“high”, they said), and invited them to look out the window at the dead-low bay beyond.

There’s an old engineering joke that the formula to compute the speed of a moving cow only applies to perfectly spherical cows in a vacuum. Unfortunately for you, the same thing applies to the formulae used to generate “tide charts”.

The important thing to remember about tide charts is this: they’re basically just a very specialized type of map. And, in that sense, the same rule applies to inshore kayakfishermen that grizzled old sergeants and grizzled old guides alike have tried to warn “cherries, newbies, tyros and nuggets” about for endless years:

Not knowing the difference between the map and the territory is what will get your butt kicked.

Bay tides are meteorologically driven. Unlike ocean tides — which are astronomically driven — bay tides are highly subject to wind forcing (and to other factors that affect both, such as barometric pressure). You can pull out your genuine-official-super-accurate modern tide chart that says the tide in a given bay (or a fractured archipelago, like Oz) should be at flood right now… and look out across a bay that is essentially one gigantic low-slack mudflat. OR vice-versa. All it takes is a fairly moderate amount of wind from the right quarter, and all that water (or lack of it) that you thought you’d be seeing is, in fact, somewhere else.

This confusion occurs because you can read, but the tide can’t. It can’t read a map, a clock, a “Cold Beer” sign or a tide chart. Your “map” is NOT (necessarily) the territory.

Something else for the recent paddlefishing convert to consider: If you’re planning on paddling back against a given wind, you’re not *necessarily* JUST fighting the wind. That “incoming tide” you’re counting on to help you may, in fact, be in the process of being windblown OUT.

And here’s another consideration: Given a morning high tide with an offshore wind and an evening low with an onshore wind, you could very well wind up fishing all day in water that isn’t moving much at all.

And as for the best tides to fish? My personal “bottom line” take on tides is just this: the best tide is a moving tide. Moving water doesn’t just move water. It moves pleuston, plankton, small nekton (mollusks, crustaceans and baitfish) and large nekton (predators) — and that makes everybody hungry.

Stealth 101: Sniper-Grade Kayak Casting

Stealth 101: Sniper-Grade Kayak Casting
or
Why The Marine Corps Will Not Let You Be A Sniper If You Have Tourette’s Syndrome

by H2Oz

Casting. Mention it, and the first thing that pops into almost everybody’s head is accuracy. Skinnywater sniping or under-the-mangrove sidearming alike, the guy who can put it on the button has a distinct edge over the guys who don’t understand how you get to Carnegie Hall.

But there’s another dimension to casting from a kayak — one of those things that few seem to notice, let alone make a conscious effort to improve upon — that can up a kayakfisherman’s hookup rate significantly, and that’s your ability to make any cast without broadcasting the fact that it is a cast.

A sniper-grade sightfishing cast — or any cast aimed at a specific, narrowly-defined potential holding spot — is pretty useless without a sniper-grade approach. The true craftsman is preternaturally patient and dead silent, and exploits things like the sun angle, background contrast, outline breakup, Snell’s Window, crinkle light and a hundred other factors. He doesn’t merely consider them, he actively exploits them whenever possible. He rigs for silent running, sculls up with a small hand or canoe paddle, draws his bead, and……. and then blows it.

Oh, nothing dramatic. He makes perfect lure placement, but for some odd reason, his target (worst-case) spooks (even though the lure shouldn’t have been close enough to cause such a spook), or at the very least simply refuses the take. The would-be craftsman forgot the final piece in the puzzle of skinnywater sniping skills — he didn’t pay attention to where his cast was coming from.

Try a little experiment. Paddle into some nice, sheltered, glassy water, with enough casting room around you that you don’t have to worry where even your longest cast is actually going. Make a cast directly forward of your boat (within a few degrees of straight over the bow), but don’t pay any attention to where the lure is going. Pay total attention to what your kayak is doing to the water. Now reel in and do the same thing, but this time cast directly abeam (that’s straight off to the side for you Chief Brody’s out there). Yeah. The look on your face is going to be priceless when you actually watch that totally-unnatural-frequency mini-tsunami you just created.

Forget the surface “wave”. By the time that reaches the spot over your fish, he’ll already be in the next county. In the military sniper analogy, imagine a world where the target is already nervous, and the muzzle blast gets to the target well before the bullet.

Underwater sound waves propagate (travel) at about 1500 metres per second (five times faster than in air) and at a lower attenuation at a given distance (reduction in the strength of signal). In plain English, that little “whoosh” from your rodtip firing (or any other sound you make above water) travels through the air to the spot above your fish five times slower and five times less loud than the disturbance caused by your hull. It’s not the displacement of water, it’s the energy imparted to the water. The water didn’t make a hull slap on your hull, your hull made a slap on the water. (Actually, more of a shove.) This frequency is totally unnatural, and the amplitude is totally unnatural, and whether a fish understands what made it is irrelevant. Its very nature says danger to any aquatic organism whose prime directive is “Eat — but don’t get eaten.”

At the risk of belaboring the sniper analogy one more time, you just spent three days crawling up on your intended recipient, got a good weld, and just before squeeeeeezing the trigger, jumped up and yelled “I’VE GOT YOU NOW, JACK!!” at the top of your lungs. Take a good look at that comparatively teeny-tiny disturbance from an over-the-bow cast again. Try a few other angles. Try a snap, try a lob.

And then, the next time you’ve got tails to port or starboard, take that little extra second to quietly scull that stern around. then be The Button Man, capische?

Go now, and sin no more. ^o^

Source:
“The Gradually-Accreting Compendium of Arcane Rigging Brain Seizures for
the Modern Kayakfisherman and Other Self-Propelled Aquatic Sociopaths”,
U. Phemism & N. DePlume, Journal of How Not to Move In with Davey Jones,
Vol. 1 No. 1, 1947, p. 328

Kayak Fishing: Keep It Simple!

Take a look at this kayak that’s “fully rigged” for kayak fishing.  What’s your initial response?

hqdefault

Some might say “Awesome, everything you could possibly need.”  Fair enough.  But to me, this looks like utter chaos, stress, and an OCD nightmare.  This is called a “garbage barge”.  Not only is it anxiety-inducing, but what happens when you fall in and need to remount?  Good luck with that.

Personally, I first got into kayak fishing for the simplicity.  After owning a fishing boat for many years, constantly fretting over maintenance, and always having-to-have the latest gadgets and toys, the whole setup became extremely distracting.  It nearly ruined what should be the primary focuses: fishing, enjoying the outdoors, relaxing, and camaraderie.  And early on, the community was full of just that: guys/gals that simply wanted to enjoy the sport and each other’s company, ignoring the pull of commercialism and materialism that had long since invaded fishing.

Of course, that still exists to a certain degree.  Kayak and canoe fishing’s benefits remain, and its participants tend to be the polar opposites of our glitter-boat brethren.  However, I’d argue that the commercialism has started to take over some kayak anglers’ mindsets.  We’re bombarded with ICAST this and YakAngler-says-I-can’t-fish-without-it that.  Rigs start looking like the above photo, drowning the owner in gadgets.  Further, some anglers will only fish with their prostaff teammates or owners of the same brand of equipment.  Someone fishing from a simplistic kayak, bought from a big-box store, with a minimal amount of gear can be looked down upon as inferior.  Absurd.

In the end, I guess it doesn’t really affect each of us — personally, we can still enjoy the sport however we want.  However, I can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed and sad that others can’t simply enjoy the sport for what it is.

Any thoughts?  Comment below!

 

Choosing a Battery for Kayak Fishing

Awesome new kayak for fishing?  Check.  Sweet fish finder?  Check.  Figured out the correct battery type and size to power the new rig?  It’s not as straight-forward as it should be — picking a battery requires a small amount of basic electrical knowledge.  But no sweat.  It’s actually pretty simple.  Here goes:

Basic Electronics

To choose a battery, we need to start with the absolute basic electronic concepts.  Electrical power comes in two forms.  Direct current (DC) is power generated by a battery, always flowing in the same direction (positive -> negative).  This is the type of current needed by most fish finders, so we’ll be focusing purely on that.  However, for completeness’ sake: alternating current (AC) is what powers your home, generated by a power plant.  The current alternates directions 50-60 times a second and, without getting into too much detail, is easier to transmit over long distances.

When discussing electronics, there are four units to understand: voltage (volts), current (amperes), resistance (ohms), and power (watts).  The easiest way to grasp these is to think of them in terms of plumbing.  Voltage is like the water pressure, pushing water into the pipes.  Current is similar to the rate of flow within the pipes (gallons per min., etc.).  Resistance is like the size of the pipe itself.

Power (watts) is a little harder to grasp.  Think of it like water, coming out of a pipe, hitting a water wheel and causing it to spin.  If you want the wheel to spin faster, you have two options.  1.) Increase the pressure coming out of the hose, hitting the wheel harder.  Or, 2.) increase the quantity of water coming out of the house, spinning the wheel faster purely due to the extra water weight.  Similarly, power is the product of the voltage and current (power = current X voltage).

Head spinning yet?  To sum it all up, voltage = force, current = rate, resistance = transmitter size, and power = capability of the voltage and current.

There’s one final item to consider: battery capacity.  When discussing smaller contexts, such as fish finders, this is usually expressed in “amp/hours” (Ah).  Think of this as the cistern providing water to the hose.  If the water is flowing at a specific rate, how many hours would the supply last?  Similarly, if electrical current is being consumed, how long will the battery be able to supply power?  We need a big enough “bucket”.

Fish Finder Power

Most fish finders need DC battery power.  Typically, they require 12 volts (again, the amount of “pressure” exerted by the battery).  But, technically, many fish finders can safely use as low as 10 volts and as high as 20.  However, since 12 volt batteries are the most common, I’d recommend just sticking to them.

Most fish finder specifications will list the “current drain” in the manual or on the box.  For instance, my Lowrance ELITE-4X HDI lists a current drain of “Typical: .75A”.


In other words, “typically” it’ll pull .75 amps of current per hour.  Two things to note here: 1.) Some companies will list this in milli-amps (mA).  1000mA = 1A.  So in this example, it might be 750mA.  2.) Lowrance is listing the “typical” (average) pull, as opposed to the “peak”.  Traditionally, most companies will use the latter.  For instance, the greatest amount of consumption on the Lowrance might be closer to .8-1.0A.  If you have the average available, great.  If not, it’s best to assume the “peak” when calculating your needs.  Worst case scenario, you’ll end up with a few extra hours of fishing time… Ok, enough jibber jabber.  What exactly does that mean?  Well, it all comes down to how long you want the fish finder to last per outing.  Keep in mind that higher battery capacity always translates to more physical weight.  Personally, I try to trim down as much as possible when I’m out, even if the battery weight seems relatively minimal — every bit helps.  So for my purposes, assume 8 hours is enough.  That means I would need a 6 amp/hour (Ah) battery (.75A X 8hr = 6Ah).

Battery Types

Essentially, you have three choices here:

        • Lead acid: No different than you car battery — acid, sealed-in.  They’re inexpensive and easily recharged, but they’re also the heavier option.

 

 

      • Rechargeables (lithium, NiMH, etc.): Much lighter than lead acid, but also much more expensive.  They can also be more complicated to recharge, frequently requiring a special adapter.

 

 

      • Alkaline (AAA, AA, A, etc.): Technically, you can use multiple battery cells at once in order to get the power your fish finder needs.  However, I’d recommend skipping these.  For example, most alkaline cells only produce 1.5V, so you’d need 8 of them to get the required 12V.  Also, your amp/hours will take a huge hit — those 8 AAs will only give you about 2Ah.  Further, these can’t be recharged and end up in the trash.

 

      I almost always go with the lead acid.  Even though it’s heavier, its small cost and ease-of-use trump the alternatives.

Specific Batteries

Many stores (Bass Pro, Cabelas, Gander Mountain) have 12V lead acid batteries specifically marketed for fish finders or other outdoor applications.  But, unless you find them on sale, they’re overpriced. I currently use a simple 8Ah unit I found on sale at Frye’s Electronics for $20.  But you can find several on Amazon for even less.  Don’t get anything fancy — run-of-the-mill units will suit you perfectly.

7-8Ah


Battery Chargers

Keep ‘er simple.  A charger, like the following, works perfectly and is usually less than $10: However, I already had a larger battery charger that I use for automotive and marine batteries. If you only need it for the kayak, they’re probably overkill. But, they’re definitely handy to have around for other applications. Here are some options on Amazon. There are also inexpensive options at Menards, Lowes, and Home Depot.  Keep in mind that the amp rating on the charger describes how fast it’ll be able to charge your battery.  Large values are convenient for quickly charging a car battery, but small values are more than sufficient for the kayak. Some guys/gals will also permanently install a charger unit on their boat/kayak. The small unit gets mounted somewhere out of the way, and the wires are permanently attached to the battery leads (in addition to the fish finder wires). Here’s an example:

How to Get Back/Self Rescue Kayak in Deep Water

Getting back into a kayak “aka” self rescue kayak technique, after falling in or tipping over, it can be a pain in the rear if you’re out deep.  There’s definitely more than one way to do it, but we recently stumbled across this video that presents a couple effective techniques.

Getting Turtled is something that is probably going to happen to everybody at some point. It comes down to risk management. In other circles

ATGATT: All the gear, all the time

is the saying.

You can’t plan accidents, they just happen. What you can do is be prepared for one, and have the right safety gear, and test your safety skills.

  • VHF Radio
  • Whistle
  • Signal Mirror
  • PFD
  • Pump
  • Ditch Bag

During the summer months, we’d highly recommend going out and practicing this at least a few times.  You don’t want to waste time figuring it out in freezing temps, when each minute counts…

How to Self Rescue in Deep Water

(Thanks to Spencer Jones @ trailinghookjournal.com for the video!)

I carry a Rescue Stirrup exactly for this situation. Its a continuous loop sling that you use as a step.

And please be careful, carry the required safety equipment.


DIY Rolling Kayak Storage Rack (2x4s and caster wheels)

Until we’re able to buy property and build a pole barn (please, God, let that be soon), we’re stuck with a 2 car garage. With all our hobbies combined, space quickly became an issue. And with the necessary layout, wall and ceiling space is extremely limited.

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After getting fed up shuffling the kayaks around on the garage floor, and not wanting them outside, we quickly threw together this rolling storage rack. It’s incredibly simple to make and is cheap — nothing but 2×4 studs, locking caster wheels, screws, and a handful of nuts/bolts/washers.

This setup has the added benefit of having plenty of board space to screw in rod holders, bike hooks, etc.  Before you know it, half your garage storage is rolling around on a franken-rack.

Dimensions:

  • 6 ft. tall (the upright posts, not including the caster wheels or board they’re mounted to)
  • 4 ft. long (no need to make it longer)
  • 32 in. inside width
  • 28 in. inside height (bottom)
  • 16 in. inside height (middle)

Obviously, adjust the dimensions as needed.  16″ tall and 32″ wide is plenty for most hulls.  The 28″ height on the bottom allows room for the fish finder and rod holders.

Tips:

  • Do not skip the slanted supports between the posts and base.  Without them, the frame flexes quite a bit (since the only thing holding it on, otherwise, are 2 screws going up from the bottom of the base into each post).
  • I’m just using drywall screws.  Good enough?  Sure.  But decent wood screws or lag bolts would be stronger.
  • You’ll see that the cross bars holding the kayaks rest on top of the lengthwise bars.  This is also important, doubling up the amount of screws holding up the weight.  Of course, if I used proper bolts, this would be moot…
  • The caster wheel positions are pushed a ways into the base, rather than directly underneath the posts.  Now that I think about it, I might recommend putting them under the far corners, getting longer bolts, and driving them straight up into the posts.  This will put all the weight directly on the wheels, in addition to being far stronger than the 2 screws.
  • I may replace the wheels.  The ones shown are 2 1/4″ casters.  They handle the weight fine, but far garage/barn uses, you’ll want something bigger.  These small ones tend to catch everything and stop, rather than roll over it.  3″ might be a better minimum.  Better yet, spend the extra $ on pneumatic ones.
  • As is, the rack is not tippy at all (surprisingly), as long as you keep the heavy kayak on the bottom.  If you add another level, I’d probably expand the base in both directions, at least somewhat.
  • Some guys will wrap the support bars with carpet squares or remnants.  Fair idea, but I’ve found it to not be all that necessary.  Pine is so soft that it doesn’t scratch or rub off anything.
  • I just left the top bare, but you could easily make a shelf with another level of cross-bars and a sheet of plywood.  But, with the garage door rails overhead, there wouldn’t be any room to get much up there.

Alternatives


This looks interesting — and it’s certainly more attractive than pine.  It’s a bit pricey, but the reviews are glowing and it appears to be well-engineered.  If mobility is important, it doesn’t look like it’d be hard to add casters.  Plus, outside, this will last a lot longer than studs…

Of course, there’s no end to other types of kayak storage systems, as long as you have the wall or ceiling space.

Micro Liberator Transducer Deployment Arm (Mad Frog Gear): Product Review

I’m a big fan of reducing the amount of drilled holes on my kayak.  When I was looking for a transducer arm, I was glad to see a bunch of them that simply used gear track mounts.  In particular, Mad Frog Gear’s “Liberator” platform stuck out.  It’s a really simple way to mount the arm, the fish finder, or both.  Since my Native Slayer already had an electronics bay, I simply needed the arm itself.  The Micro Liberator fit that bill.  It includes a mounting plate for the gear track, the transducer arm, and necessary hardware.

PROS

  • Multiple pivot points.  Allows multiple storage locations when the fish finder is not in use.
  • Easy installation (if you happen to use the whole arm length — see below).
  • One of the cheapest options.
  • Low profile.  Could mount right next to your seat, without nailing it while paddling.

CONS

  • Weak plastic.  See one of the photos for a close-up of the bubbles from sub-par injection molding.  Although this doesn’t need to be over-engineered, the arm is far more flexible than it probably should be.
  • Non-adjustable arm length.  If you need it to be shorter, you have to shorten the length by cutting it.
  • Non-locking pivot points.  Although getting caught in weeds is inherent with any arm, this one is particularly annoying.  Each pivot point is simply a bolt + nut + washer, so weeds can easily move it.  Even fast-paced paddling or current can swing it out a bit.  Easy enough to deal with if it’s mounted close, but I tend to keep things out of the way, so it’s annoying to have to get up and adjust it.
  • No integrated wire management.  Have to zip tie the transducer wire to the arm.

Alternatives

Although the Micro Liberator is “good enough” for now, I’ll probably replace it soonish.  When I do, it’ll probably be this guy:


The RAM transducer arm is a lot stiffer, and the pivot point locks down with a nut.  Overall, the build quality is far superior and will stand up to worse abuse.  I’ve talked to numerous owners and haven’t heard a single complaint.