What are you going to tell the coroner - part one

When I was an outdoor pursuits instructor in the 1980s there was a popular phrase (see title) that we like to think could help you decide on the balance between real risk and perceived risk.

Most outdoor pursuits (or at least, as they are presented to beginners) have a relatively high perceived risk, but a low actual risk. For most participants, the journey to and from the activity will have carried rather more real risk, and serious injury is rare.

Sometimes things do go wrong, and I was recently reminded that you can end up being responsible for others even when you are not coaching or instructing.
This will also be the time when you have left some kit behind.

It was a calm day, and we had planned a short bimble down the Malltraeth estuary.

After a stop for apples at Tim's beach, where we found we had no tea (I had left behind a drybag with my flask, woolly hat, towel, etc), we continued down the estuary.

Despite the calm conditions, there was a strange mini tide race for our entertainment - enough to get you wet, but unlikely to throw you out of the boat - though Dave wisely kept well clear of the worst (later learned that there was good surfing on The Lleyn from a very regular swell).

On the South side of the estuary on the 'corner' that leads to Llanddywn, the aforementioned swell was producing some significant surf, and Rich was keen to go play.

On the edge of the breaking waves, there were some good opportunities, and I had caught a couple of rides when Rich went past like a steam train on a wave that took him for several hundred yards.

I was just considering how to introduce Dave to assisted passage making, when he also went past - not on the edge of the surf, but deep in the middle of it - first on a wave, then broadside to a wave, and then inevitably, under a wave.

He executed a pretty swift wet exit, and managed to grab his hat as well as keep hold of paddle and boat, and was left standing in about half a fathom of water that was B cold apparently (later upgraded to F cold).

I shouted that he should make his way ashore, and I would come and help him empty his boat.

Two steps shoreward, and he fell into a big hole, and on resurfacing was hit by two or three sets of breaking waves. He was doing his best to swim in the right direction, but making very little progress towing an excellent sea anchor (kayak with too much water in).

What now?