HomeCruiser_2026_05_May_Jun_Velcro

When It Comes to Gear, the Value of Stick-to-itiveness

By Larry Lempert

If I asked you to name the single most influential person in the development of modern-day paddling gear, odds are good that your thoughts would not leap first to George de Mestral. Yet a good case can be made for this Swiss electrical engineer, who had nothing to do with boat design, helmet construction, Gore-Tex, latex gaskets, Kevlar, carbon fiber—no, none of these, but rather he invented the hook and loop fastener VELCRO® (hereinafter Velcro, since we don't want this article to look like a presidential social media post, and insistence on the registered trademark symbol is too prissy for the Cruiser).

As I geared up at the riverside for an outing a few weeks ago, it suddenly struck me how many times I was fastening something using Velcro. I paused to count, and the number of times that day was 15! Similarly, gearing down was a virtual symphony of rrrrip, rrrrip, rrrrip, as I tugged to undo all those Velcro attachment points.

Let me count the ways:

drysuit zipper cover
drysuit leg cuffs (2)
drysuit arm cuffs (2)
drysuit relief zipper cover
mitts (2) (mine have a strap that tightens around the wrist)
wet boots: zipper closures and a small strap across the top of the foot (4)
strap to attach my spare paddle to a thwart (for this I use a leg band designed for bicyclists)
strap to attach my primary paddle to a thwart while carrying the boat
adjustable arm brace

Of course, the day in question was cold, so all the Velcro on my drysuit came into play. When it's no longer drysuit weather, you can subtract the six drysuit fasteners, but then add seven back in for paddle pants cuffs (2) and waist (2), and paddle jacket cuffs and neck (3). I don't use, but many paddlers do and I used to, the Salamander beak visor that attaches to the helmet with Velcro. My throw rope comes in a tight-fitting pouch whose Velcro flap opens in an instant when calamity calls on the river. My canoe thigh straps are adjustable thanks to Velcro. There are Velcro kits for customizing the fit in kayak cockpits. My adjustable watchband. My adjustable cap.

The Velcro company website recounts that De Mestral created the name from two French words: vel_ours (velvet) and cro_chet (hook). The eureka moment came after a hunting trip in the Alps when De Mistral explored why burrs clung to his wool pants and his dog's fur. (Could this backstory be any better?!) That was in 1941. He kept working on the physics of attachment for 10 years and ultimately filed for a Swiss patent, which was granted in 1954. Since then, Velcro has aided NASA (with justifiable pride, the website history asks, "Did you know our fasteners have been to the moon?"), the U.S. military (no doubt its fasteners have been to the Middle East), diaper manufacturers (the real miracle, as parents can attest), and countless other adopters. I don't quote this website claim in jest—it's quite true: "His invention remains one of the most celebrated examples of biomimicry, proving that nature can guide human ingenuity."

Velcro's ubiquity in paddling gear begs the question whether additional applications can be imagined for scenarios in which you seek attachment that is solid but can be readily undone. The most obvious to me, inspired by the Salamander visor, is Velcro's potential as a helmet attachment that could be applied to cover the mouth of an overly loquacious paddler (more humane than duct tape) who is intruding on nature's vibe. A strip on a mitt or glove could keep you from losing your paddle in the midst of a swim. I don't think it's beyond the pale to envision a berth in the garage from which you could suspend your canoe or kayak. I hear your dismissive laugh, but remember that David Letterman launched from a trampoline and instantly, securely affixed himself to a wall by means of a Velcro suit—check out the video at minute 5:25!—and I can guarantee you that David Letterman weighs more than my canoe by a good margin.

I take these concluding words from a concise video minute found on YouTube and commend them to paddlers everywhere: "So when you hear that rrrrip, think of George and his dog."