As I stated in a previous column I was talked into buying a couple of kayaks for my family to use when they come and visit. I knew nothing about kayaks, so I knew when I went shopping; I had the word sucker written on my forehead. But out I went anyway. Now my budget for these kayaks was not huge, and knowing they could be bought in a price range that went from a couple of hundred dollars, to a couple of thousand dollars I needed to be realistic about how and where they would be used. I was not going to take them off our little lake, not going down the Colorado River or across the great lakes. They were for my grandkids to play in. But before they get here next week, I needed to try them out.
Now during my lifetime I have saddled up to lots of things to ride on, or in, on water. Canoes, fishing boats, duck boats, John boats, speed boats, sail boats, pontoons and a rubber inner tube. Most of them were pretty much self-explanatory as how to get in or on them. This---not so much. The guy at the store had not been to encouraging when I asked him, “If I tip over, am I kind of like a turtle on its back, only with my head under water?” He explained that most likely I would fall out of the craft and then the best bet was to swim to shore to get back in. if there was a way to get back in the Kayak out in the lake, he wasn’t sharing it.
So off to the lake I went dragging my little plastic craft with me. I was prepared, wearing nothing that I didn’t want to get wet. I set the craft in the shallow water, straddle it until I reached the seat and fell in. Two problems. The kayak was sitting on the bottom of the lake and the paddle was up in the yard where I left it. So I escaped, retrieved the paddle and pushed the kayak out into two feet of water. This time when I fell into the craft, I listed to the left and then to the right and finally it settled down and there I was, sitting in my kayak-- without my life preserver. One more attempt and I was ready to head out. I want to explain something about getting up and getting down at my age. Going down, thanks to gravity is easy, but getting back up requires something to grab onto besides a slippery plastic boat. The guy at the store was right. Lean over far enough and out you go. Now I’m soaked and I still haven’t even left the beach.
At last, we’re on our way. The lake was calm and my paddles dipped deftly into the water, alternating from side to side. I had calculated that fifty feet from shore was as far as I dare venture out and still be able to save myself, if I fell into the lake. I was always a strong swimmer but unfortunately my lungs, not being what they used to be, I’m now like a boat motor with three spoonfuls of gas in the tank-- it still runs but not for long. But I was gliding now and well on my way, until this big wake boat roared by. I know from experience that when you are faced with a monster wave you must turn your craft into the wave or your going to end up like the Poseidon and we all know how that ended. “Hard to port,” I spun her around and even more quickly “hard to starboard,” the wave spun me around again and I’m heading to shore like a wild surfer hanging 10 or whatever they call it. As I waded home pulling the kayak behind me I could only say to myself, “Really-- I bought it for the kids.”
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