Winter Sea Kayaking the Great Lakes

Lake Michigan at its coldest. Sea kayak performance must be flawless to survive.

Winter Sea Kayaking? Seems Impossible, Sounds Ridiculous—But Here I Am!

Growing up on the shores of Lake Michigan, I was raised with a deep respect—borderline fear—of this powerful body of water. The Great Lakes are notorious for their sudden weather shifts, riptides, and bone-chilling temperatures.

As a kid, the idea of venturing onto the water in the dead of winter would have seemed absurd. When the ice came in, we stayed away. Simple as that.

Fast forward four decades, and now, at 45 years old, I find myself longing for winter paddling. While the idea of strapping into an 18-foot kayak and heading out onto a freezing, wind-whipped lake might seem reckless, history tells a different story.

Sea kayaking isn’t just a modern adventure sport—it’s an ancient practice. Archaeological evidence suggests that kayaks date back at least 4,000 years (Heath, 2002). The Inuit, who perfected the design in regions now known as Alaska, Canada, and Greenland, built these sleek, maneuverable craft to navigate frigid waters for hunting. If they could master winter paddling for survival, surely I could explore it for the sheer joy of being on the water.

Why Do I Paddle Through the Winter?

First and foremost, I kayak in winter because I simply don’t want to stop. Kayaking is my passion, and I refuse to let the seasons dictate when I can enjoy it. The mental and physical benefits are too valuable to take months off. Consistently being on the water helps me stay in shape and keeps the winter blues at bay—a real concern in northern climates where seasonal affective disorder is common (Melrose, 2015).

But more than that, winter kayaking is breathtakingly beautiful. Picture this: paddling through a sea cave draped in shimmering icicles, like slicing through the heart of a frozen geode. The stillness is profound—no motorboats, no crowds, just the hush of the water and the occasional call of a diving duck. It’s a rare, peaceful world that feels untouched by time. Once you experience it, it stays with you like a treasured memory.

Winter Sea Kayaking is an Ancient Tradition

Sea kayaking has deep historical roots, originating thousands of years ago with the Indigenous peoples of the Arctic, including the Inuit, Aleut, and Yup’ik. These early kayaks were handcrafted from driftwood or whalebone frames and covered with animal skins, such as seal or caribou hides, to create a watertight vessel. Designed for hunting and transportation in icy waters, these kayaks were highly efficient, lightweight, and maneuverable. European explorers first documented these boats in the 16th and 17th centuries, and by the 19th century, kayaks became popular in Europe for sport and recreation. The 20th century saw the introduction of fiberglass and, later, plastic and composite materials, making kayaking more accessible worldwide. Today, sea kayaking is a thriving sport and adventure activity, allowing paddlers to explore coastlines, open water, and even extreme environments such as the Great Lakes in winter. (Sources: Golden, 1992; Heath & Arima, 2004).

The Challenge of Cold Water Paddling

Of course, winter kayaking is not for everyone—and I mean that literally. The dangers of cold water immersion are very real. Hypothermia can set in within minutes in water below 50°F (Tipton et al., 2017), and the Great Lakes in winter hover in the 30s and 40s. Without the proper skills, preparation, and gear, a single mistake could be fatal.

I take this risk seriously. I paddle with an ACA Level 3 certification, extensive wilderness rescue and first aid training, and a bomb-proof kayak roll. My drysuit, layered insulation, and strict adherence to weather and water conditions give me a fighting chance—but even with all that, I never underestimate the lake.

The Water Demands Respect

The Great Lakes will always win. Over the years, I’ve rescued struggling paddlers, seen bodies pulled from the water, and read the grim headlines that always trace back to the same mistake: bad judgment. That’s why my approach to winter paddling is vastly different from summer. I take fewer risks, avoid long crossings, and limit my sessions to 2–3 hours instead of the 6–10 hours I put in during the warmer months.

The Soulful Side of Winter Kayaking

So why take the risk? Because some experiences are worth it.

Out on that water, wrapped in silence, surrounded by a world transformed by ice and light, I feel completely present. The challenges make every moment sharper, more meaningful. And sometimes, as I paddle through an ice cave shimmering like a frozen cathedral, I realize—this is the jewel I’ve been seeking all along.

Sources:Heath, T. (2002). The Aleutian Kayak: Origins, Construction, and Use of the Traditional Seagoing Baidarka. Melrose, S. (2015). Seasonal Affective Disorder: An Overview of Assessment and Treatment Approaches. Depression Research and Treatment.Tipton, M., Eglin, C., & Golden, F. (2017). The Cold-Shock Response: A Review. Journal of Physiology.