Robert Twentyman

Tag: camping

Why I Trust My PLB1 for Outdoor Adventures
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If, like me, you have hobbies that might result in being winched onto a helicopter, read on!

In a nutshell, if you find yourself in grave danger anywhere in the world, this device can send a distress signal to a satellite. It needs no subscription, phone signal or recharging. Provided you’re conscious, can reach your PLB1 and can use at least one hand, you have hope of rescue. The Survivor’s Club stories on the Ocean Signal website include many accounts of lives saved.

I bought mine back in 2019, when I first got seriously into sea kayaking. It came before the VHF radio or LED flares, on the basis that it was the most versatile way to get help when you really need it. I’ve carried it tethered to my buoyancy aid while kayaking and in the lid of my rucksack for hill walking ever since. I’ve never had to use it.  Yet.

PLB1 in the pocket of my Palm Peyto buoyancy aid. There’s a small eyelet inside the pocket which I thread the lanyard through to avoid losing it.

The PLB1 is a UK made, small, purpose-built device.  As the name suggests, it’s ‘personal’ – not for attaching to a vessel or aircraft, you need it on you.    It is also not for two-way communication, sending locations to your family, getting advice or checking the weather forecast.  It has one job only – getting help in an emergency.  No screen, just two buttons – TEST and ON.  It fits easily in the palm of my hand (77 x 51 x 32.5mm weight 116g).

My PLB1 – Test and On buttons shown, LED indicator and white rescue strobe at the top.

You do need to register your device (for free) via this government website. I’ve just been prompted to re-do and update mine, it took 10-15 minutes.  You will need the beacon’s Hex ID or Unique Identifying Number, the manufacturer serial number and model (all stamped on the device), your contact details, and a trusted person or persons who can explain what you’re probably up to. And who are probably not with you and in the same trouble!  This step is essential for the rescuers: they need to know whether to look for a kayak, gyrocopter or hiker, and to check whether an alert is genuine.

A short demo of my PLB1 including extending and rewinding the aerial.

Should you press the ON button, it waits 50 seconds and then sends a 406 MHz radio signal into space.  A satellite receives the signal and alerts a ground station.   A professional assessment is then made as to what kind of help is required based on where the signal is coming from i.e. land, water, mountains etc and the registration details you gave.  The most appropriate emergency services are informed i.e. coastguard / mountain rescue / police.

If it can lock onto GPS, it will send your location (accurate to within 100m).  Even if it cannot get a GPS fix, the satellites can locate you to within 5 nautical miles by radio alone.  Once active, it sends out a 121.5 MHz homing transmission which rescuers can lock onto.  It also has a small, white LED strobe to attract attention. It will keep transmitting for over 24 hours if the battery is in good order, potentially less if it has been used.  The 50 second delay is to give you time to cancel if you have made an accidental activation.

How to use it:
1. Pull out the antenna until it will go no further
2. Point the antenna vertically
3. Open the safety flap
4. Press the on button for approximately one second until the Green LED flashes.
5. The LEDs will then flash periodically to confirm transmission and GPS status.
There is a radio test feature which you are encouraged to do monthly and a more power intensive GPS test to perform annually. They ask that you only do this in the first 5 minutes of every hour as courtesy to aircraft (it transmits a short burst on 121.5 MHz, see instructions for details).

False alarms, deactivation:

It’s quite hard to set it off by accident because there is a hinged plastic flap covering the buttons. If you need to turn it off either because you’ve been rescued or because you’ve set it off in error, just press the ON button for one second until the red light flashes twice. Release, wind the aerial back in and call the UK Coast Guard.

To be aware of:
- It doesn’t float by itself. You need to buy an optional buoyancy pouch.
- It’s not designed to work in or under water (it’s waterproof to 15m, it just won’t reliably transmit). You will need to hold it up out of the water if you are floating.
- You don’t receive any confirmation that help is on the way or even that your message was received, it’s purely one way.
- There is no way to specify the kind of emergency – could be an important factor if you’re at risk of danger from other humans vs medical / sporting accidents.
- The built in battery has to be professionally replaced every 7 years, the expiry date is printed on the case and there are various service centres around the UK.
Satellite enabled smart phones and watches

Since I got this device, mobile phones and even smart watches have developed satellite connectivity.  I’ve given some serious thought to whether I still need to carry my PLB1.  For me personally, I definitely still do, though I think for a lot of people, the watch / phone uplink would be sufficient for peace of mind.  Provided you can get an unobstructed view of the sky, it’s not wet and you have sufficient battery remaining, a consumer device could solve the problem.  If you’re on the fence about that then definitely read this page on Ocean Signal’s website PLB1 vs iPhone Emergency SOS: Which Device Should You Really Trust When There’s No Cell Coverage

As they say, phones are more likely to be lost or damaged in whatever catastrophe led to the problem, their batteries are fickle, they don’t work all over the world, they don’t like wet hands, they don’t have a homing transmission for the helicopter, they won’t keep transmitting for 24 hours and you usually need to tap or type to make your request.  On the plus side, there is two-way communication and you’ve probably already got it for free (though Apple did hint at a service fee after the first 2 years).

I daresay consumer satellite tech will save a far greater number of lives due to sheer numbers of devices out there.  They are undoubtedly a great idea.   In many situations I would try my watch or phone first because they provide two-way communication. Nevertheless, I am certain they are not a complete replacement for the PLB1 in my use case.

My flotation device and essential safety kit

Have things moved on in 7 years?

Having had my PLB1 a while, I looked online to see what alternatives there are now.  Garmin make a small device that has some amazing two-way features but it does require a monthly subscription to use.   There are one or two other similar small PLBs for example, the ACR ResQLink 400 and McMurdo FastFind 220.  These appear to offer similar capabilities to the PLB1.

Conclusion

This device is a permanent fixture in my risk assessments for my trips and adventures.  I have had some amazing experiences and made memories that will last a lifetime because of the confidence it has given me.  If I ever find myself separated from my kayak floating in the sea or taking a tumble off Striding Edge, it will be the very best money I ever spent.  If mine was lost or broken it would be replaced immediately without question.

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29/07/2026
MSR Dragonfly Stove

Purchased: May 2020

Used on: Sea kayak expeditions, wild camps, and coastal trips across Scotland and the North of England

Five Years, Hundreds of Miles of Paddling

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I’ve been cooking on this stove since May 2020, and in that time it’s been with me on some of the best trips of my life- a three-day circumnavigation of Raasay and Rona off the Scottish mainland, island hopping around Arisaig and a full circumnavigation of the Isle of Bute. Days regularly running to 40 kilometres of paddling, wild camps on rock ledges and beaches, thunderstorms, swell, wind, and on the Summer Isles in July 2025 the most catastrophically bad midges I have ever encountered in my life. Through all of it, the Dragonfly performed.

That’s the review, really. But here’s the detail.

Why Liquid Fuel?

The Dragonfly runs on white gas, kerosene, diesel, and petrol. That flexibility is the whole argument for it. I have petrol around constantly for the lawn mower, the chainsaw, general land maintenance. Being able to top up the stove bottle from the same stock I’m already running is genuinely convenient in a way that’s hard to overstate.

It’s also good to know you can easily get more cooking fuel wherever you are in the World.

Gas canister stoves work fine. But unless you’re doing a single day trip, you always need a spare and I know myself well enough to know I’d resent the constant purchasing. With petrol, there’s no calculating how much gas is left in a canister, no anxious rattling at camp. You look in the bottle and you know.

If you’re an occasional user going out a few times a year, a gas stove is probably the better choice. Simpler, lighter, no technique required. The Dragonfly needs a lot more practice and commitment to use happily.

What It Does Well

It’s powerful. When it’s running properly, it sounds like a small jet engine. Water boils fast, which after a long day on the water matters more than you’d think.

It’s robust. Five years of being stuffed into dry bags and kayak hatches, and it hasn’t missed a beat.

It’s economical. Petrol is cheap. No fuel goes to waste at the end of a trip – whatever’s left in the bottle goes straight into the car or the mower.

It’s adjustable. The Dragonfly gives you genuine flame control. This is useful – you can maintain just enough heat to keep your boil in the bag products at temperature without boiling over. It also comes in very handy if you are frying.

It’s genuinely good fun to use. There’s a ritual to it. Once you’ve got the technique down, lighting it feels satisfying. It feels a bit dangerous, there’s every chance of singeing your eyebrows each time you light it if you are not careful.

The Honest Downsides

Petrol is flammable and it smells. If something goes wrong with containment especially in a kayak hatch or rucksack, it can contaminate kit in a way that gas never would. I keep it in a dedicated dry bag and have never had a problem, but it requires thought.

There’s more to go wrong than a simple gas stove. More components, more maintenance. And the technique takes practice. The first few times you light one, it’s not intuitive.

Premium petrol is worth using. I believe the better detergent additives make a real difference to how cleanly it burns, and fresh petrol works noticeably better than old stock. I believe MSR would prefer you to use dedicated stove fuel for optimum longevity but as I say, I’m in year 6 of mine with no issues.

If you want the lightest possible kit, this is probably not for you – a small gas stove would take up less space and weigh less. This is not so much of concern for my kayaking trips.

How to Use It — The Technique

Turn the dragonfly stove body upside down and shake it for sixty seconds before use. There’s a small pin inside the jet that bounces around and clears carbon deposits. Shake again after use for the same reason.

Pump approximately 20 – 30 times to pressurise the bottle.

Release a tablespoon of petrol into the small dish beneath the burner, then close the valve. Light the petrol in the dish and let it burn for around 60 seconds — this heats the metal of the jet, which is what allows the fuel to vaporise properly. Then slowly reintroduce flow. Not too much. Let it catch. When the flame shifts from yellow-orange to blue, it’s running correctly. Give it full flow and let it go.

Give the bottle an occasional pump while cooking to maintain pressure.

When you’re done, turn off at the bottle rather than at the stove. This lets the fuel line dry out, which reduces drips and smell.

I don’t generally go on kayak expeditions by myself and my friend Nick has exactly the same stove. That means that if one of us breaks a pump or similar we’ve automatically got spare parts and spare fuel. If I was going solo much I’d perhaps be tempted to get something simpler.

The Verdict

The MSR Dragonfly suits a particular kind of person doing a particular kind of trip. If you’re spending multiple days out, you’re already carrying petrol, and you’re willing to learn the technique — it’s an excellent piece of kit. Reliable, powerful, and satisfying to use. It’s been on every meaningful trip I’ve done in the last five years, and I’ve never once wished I’d brought something else.

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06/04/2026
Piel Island

We try to keep two weeks free every summer and see what the weather allows.

Some years the forecast is perfect and we do something ambitious like circumnavigating Raasay and Rona. Other years the Atlantic does what the Atlantic usually does and we cancel the leave and go back to work.

This trip sat somewhere in between.

Scotland was clearly off the table, but there was a narrow 24-hour window of settled weather locally and, crucially, the tides lined up. That was enough to tempt us out. The plan became a quick crossing to Piel Island.

The tides around the Duddon Estuary can be awkward, so I dug out a guidebook, Northern England and IOM: Fifty Great Sea Kayak Voyages by Jim Krawiecki. It recommends launching from the north end of Walney Island.

Unfortunately, that would have required driving to Barrow-in-Furness.

Neither of us could quite summon the enthusiasm for a one-hour 50-minute drive when the sea was already visible from my house, so we decided instead to paddle across from Silecroft in West Cumbria.

High tide was 06:51.

Low tide at the mouth of the Duddon would arrive at 13:30.

We needed to be well clear of the estuary before then.

We left Nick’s car in the parish council car park at Silecroft at about 08:30, packing just enough food and beer for 24 hours.

The car park signage suggested the parish council preferred people not to stay overnight. We had intended to let them know what we were doing, but the contact number I had for them no longer worked.

We decided to risk it.

The sea was grey and slightly lumpy. It felt much cooler than July ought to, but it was good paddling. Through breaks in the cloud, the southern fells appeared almost unreal – ridges fading in and out of mist.

Within half an hour, we were clear of Haverigg and committed to the crossing. A group of seals seemed to find us quite interesting from a discreet distance. They were bigger than the ones we are used to seeing in Scotland.

I’m not sure why, but you can tell when you’re kayaking over shallow water; the boat just feels different, slower, more resistive to paddling. We were half a mile or more from land, but ran out of water due to a 30-40m wide sand bar with no visible ends.

Mindful of the falling tide, we decided to get out and drag ourselves over it on foot rather than try to go around it and risk being beached.

Once back afloat, we could very clearly now see the top of Walney Island. Our plan was to head down the Western/seaward side of it.

We stopped for lunch at Walney Island Beach, near West Shore Road. It was nearly low tide, so we pulled the kayaks clear and walked 200m or so to a slipway where we heated up some boil-in-the-bag. I went for an all-day breakfast. I have such a love-hate relationship with these things; I definitely thoroughly hate them by the end of a trip. The first one is always surprisingly less disgusting than I remembered, but by the second, I realise I was right all along. This one wasn’t too bad; I appreciated a hot meal under the circumstances.

It didn’t take us too long to reach the bottom of the island; we turned left and were treated to our first glimpse of Piel Castle. It looked incongruous, a ghost from the past. The castle still dominated the island, even as a ruin.

We landed by the ferry slip. Steps led up to the Ship Inn. The landlord of the Inn is also, officially, the King of Piel. So, we found the King, a friendly man in his 30s not long crowned and busy behind the bar. A loud, well-oiled customer was trying to hold court with some story or another, clutching the counter with one hand. There were half a dozen or so other customers, all desperately avoiding any eye contact with him. Everyone looked around as we walked in; dressed as we were in rubber trousers, cagoules, and buoyancy aids, we were definitely a welcome diversion.

I asked the King if we could camp on his island.

“Anywhere you like” was his easy reply. £5 per night, an exceptional bargain.

Everywhere around the pub was already fairly chock-a-block with tents, so we got back into the kayaks and paddled 400m or so around the coast, settling on a flat, grassy strip not far from some of the houses.

Once the tents were up, we found the castle – note the opening hours “Any reasonable time”. The King joined us with his dogs briefly; without saying it, he clearly needed a little bit of time away from the bar.

We dined on dehydrated Chicken Tikka Masala and then adjourned to the bar.

We found a side room full of nautical curiosities and photos and made ourselves at home. Several pints later, long after it had got dark, a private number called Nick’s telephone. It was Cumbria Police – the parish council car park committee at Silecroft had seen us paddle away over the horizon and were worried as our car was still there. This had caused a terribly embarrassing sequence of events – Bedfordshire police going to Nick’s home address, getting contact details from his wife, passing them to Cumbria police. We made our apologies to the police and thanked them for their concern.

We had a very early start the next day; high tide was 08:00, we needed to be well clear of Duddon Estuary on the way back. I needn’t have set an alarm because at 5 a.m. a dredger passed seemingly a few feet from our tents, making a noise like a surprised cow.

We had filled our flasks with boiling water the night before to save time, so breakfast was a perfunctory porridge and tea before we got back on the water.

We reached BAE Systems (where they make nuclear submarines). A massive contrast to be amongst such a futuristic estate only a short paddle from a 14th-century castle with its own reigning King.

Under the road bridge and by the time we hit the estuary, the wind was picking up considerably. The waves were coming in at between 45 and 90 degrees, and they were breaking into surf as they got closer to the land. Surf is a problem for kayakers; there’s not a lot you can do if a wave breaks over the side of your boat. It would mean a certain capsize, potentially loss of kit, injury, and a cold dunking. We deliberately took a path further out to sea, balancing the risk of being unable to swim for shore vs hopefully not needing to.

It was probably just slightly the wrong side of enjoyable at times. Loaded boats tend to be better to handle in these conditions, and thankfully, we had a considerable cargo of un-drunk beer thanks to the pub being open.

We’re pretty good at keeping each other’s spirits up and soldiering on. We only stopped once, for a quick brew from a flask because the conditions were set to deteriorate further.

I was starting to think about landing and carrying the boats to the nearest road, but it didn’t quite come to that as Silecroft grew from a dot on the horizon to the very welcome sight of Nick’s parked car. With an angry-looking lady standing next to it, hands on hips. It was going to be telling-off time.

“I know exactly where you’ve been.”

We must have looked fairly sheepish; her expression softened a little. All the same, she had definitely been looking forward to this moment and was not going to be easily deprived of it. We had a chat for about five minutes, explaining we were just local guys out for some harmless adventures. I made a genuine apology, and with that, and a suitable contribution to the car park honesty box, we were on our way home for fish and chips.

Resources

Trip planning was assisted by the excellent guidebook: Northern England and IOM – Fifty Great Sea Kayak Voyages by Jim Krawiecki. (Amazon affiliate link)

A page of all the gear I use for kayaking, camping and hiking

Kit List Page

06/03/2026