Morning Kayak

The day had begun so beautifully. Who would have thought that just shortly thereafter I’d be standing knee deep in water, holding my head with blood running down the side of my face?

Up before dawn we had launched the tandem kayak off the beach in front of the house.  With small waves and not a breath of wind, we were looking forward to a glorious sunrise over the water and maybe even catching up to the dolphins we had just spotted off shore.  Swiftly paddling away from the beach we turned right to follow the shoreline and the dolphins. Up ahead a huge bait ball attracted hundreds of birds. Pelicans, gulls and terns were excitedly dive-bombing for breakfast and all around small fish could be seen jumping out of the water trying to escape the water predators. We glided along soaking up the experience, enjoying the rising sun and the play of light on water. Such exquisite colors!

I was amazed how easily the paddle out to the point was. There was a time, not long ago when that distance was a bit of a strain for me. And even though this was our first outing in over a year I found the workout easy. When we turned around to head back the photo ops were just too good to pass up. (Luckily I had purchased a waterproof camera last year!) ‘What a great way to start the day!’ I thought. A little bit of a workout and fun to boot. This is a definite must-do –more-often!

Now I admit that throughout my life I have never been much of a water person, but I have made a conscious effort to change that in the last few years. I mean why bring old baggage from lifetimes ago along for the ride? And after all Robert is a master in the water, having spent 8 tender years growing up in Hawaii, learning how to surf and all that that lifestyle brings with it. He can read the ocean like no one I have ever met, its tides, currents and dispositions. However sometimes he can’t read his wife as well….

Or maybe I should say that often when one is accomplished at something, one begins to forget that others may not be as attuned. As we headed for the beach I reminded him, several times, that if he put us in the waves I would be very unhappy. ‘Are we having a trust issue here, Jill?’ he questioned. No, just stating a comfort level for me and that he’d be wise to pay attention to what I was saying, unless he wanted to see me really unhappy. He reassured me that he’d never do anything to hurt me, (I know that!) and that I needed to have some faith in his knowledge of waves. (I do! But I don’t possess that!)

He skirted the breakers on the reef (a little too close for my total comfort, but ‘show some gumption here,’ I told myself) and pointed the nose towards the beach.  ‘Ok, we’re going to ride the wild surf and catch a wave in!’ He began to sing Ride the Wild Surf, by some 60’s beach group. And truthfully, the waves were maybe about knee high, so the song seemed rather silly but caught in my head as I began to paddle along to catch a ‘wild ‘ wave. But then something went wrong. Not terribly, just enough to send us broadside and tumble over.

Now according to me, sitting in the bow of the craft, the kayak dumped me in to the water – all 2 feet of it.  As I came up the kayak hit me in the head, and of course not the plastic body of it. No the little metal cleat that you clip the seats onto. Bang! I grabbed my head and glared at Robert, a death glare I am sure. He spouted,’ If you wouldn’t be so afraid of getting your head under water this wouldn’t have happened!’ My reply was swift and quite terse. Then I released my head and looked at my hand. The blood covering it said that there was a lot more on my head. I turned my palm to show him the results and instantly he was silenced. I noticed the kayak was starting to float away.

My anger subsided quickly; I knew I wasn’t hurt badly because heads always bleed a lot. He was immediately remorseful and went into overdrive to get me inside and attended to. I just hoped that no stiches were required as I did not relish the thought of a visit to the local clinic, but resigned myself to facing that possibility if necessary. After heating some water and washing my hair his verdict was that no trip was needed. He had to cut out a hunk of hair to clean the wound and I am sure that Debra, my hairdresser, will be wondering what on earth happened when I return to SD for my next haircut.

Now in the interest of equality I have to say that Robert saw the whole thing differently. He says that when kayak began to turn broadside I bailed out and in my instinct to not submerge my head I popped out of the water as the kayak bashed into me. (‘All surfers know that when you fall off your board, you don’t come right up because you could get hit in the head by the board!’ Oh….. I’m not a surfer.)

So it is highly possible that one or both of these points of view occurred, or another completely. Maybe we each co-created this to show ourselves something. I’m willing to look at that. And by now we’ve talked it through and discussed what should be done differently next time. (Lean into the wave as you get broadsided, he says.)

Robert has been the picture of attentiveness. I know he feels pretty bad. I thought I could milk it for an ice cream cone when we went to town for groceries, but then, I’ll live to kayak another day.  And it didn’t feel very truthful….