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Floating on water is better than underwater
(by Hertha Binder - June 16, 2010)
OF KIDS AND NATURE, BY HERTHA BINDER
Floating on water is better than underwater
Try it; you might not like it. For several years I'd been white-water rafting with my kids or friends. Starting on "easy" rivers, we gradually progressed to more difficult ones with huge rapids. To me, one of the most pleasant sounds is that of rushing water. Being in the middle of it and in the spray is exhilarating.
The guided tours which we took always had some instructors in kayaks. The maneuverability of those tiny boats is astounding. How fast they are, how versatile, how skillful the kayakers turn and go upstream with just as much ease as downstream! Our rafts, as much as we liked them, were rather klutzy compared to those swift little things.
One spring I saw an ad for weekend kayak lessons at Ohiopyle, a state park in southwestern Pennsylvania.
"Jeff," I said to my son, "how'd it be if we try kayaking this year, instead of just rafting?"
His eyes were wide. "Yeah! I've wanted to do that for years."
On the scheduled weekend, Jeff and I were the only "students" in the kayak course. Our instructor, Brian, took us to a lake. "This is quiet water, so you can get a feel for the kayak." He helped us into the boats and snapped on the "aprons." Those are pieces of the wet suit that snap on watertight to the opening of the kayak.
Steering that thing left and right, going backwards and forwards was not too difficult. "What's next?" I asked.
"A kayak often flips, and then you have to be able to do a roll, coming up on the other side, which takes practice." Brian showed us. For him, it was easy. He wasn't even out of breath. "Or you do a wet exit; that's not hard. While you are upside down in the water, you unsnap your apron -- don't let go of the paddle, though -- and slide out of the boat."
"With the head under water?" I guess my apprehension showed.
"Sure. Nothing to it. Let Jeff try the roll first."
It's stressful for a mother to watch her kid, even if he's a grown man, take frantic gulps of air while he goes under again and again.
Finally, with help from Brian, Jeff made it. "Mom, I guess that's too hard for you."
"Then we'll just teach your mom a wet exit." Brian was so-o cheerful.
I really like water and don't mind to put my face into it, but hanging in a capsized kayak, unsnapping that apron, sliding further down out of the boat and then coming up, without losing the paddle, is more than I bargained for.
"I was confused once I got out of the boat," I said to Jeff. "Didn't quite know where up and down was."
"M-hm. By the time you get oriented, you run out of air."
"You folks did really well. Tomorrow we'll go on the river, the easy section." Brian steadied us as we climbed out of the boats.
Next day we rode a van with trailer to the take-in on the river. Jeff's wife, Carrie, and son, Chuck, then 2 years old, came along in the van and watched us take off. Under Brian's watchful eyes, we felt really confident and even mastered a few white-water ripples. We also had time to enjoy the peaceful scenery along the river.
"Where do those people on the shore come from?" I wondered.
Brian explained. "There's a 9-mile bicycle path that runs mostly along the river."
While Jeff and I were watching a strange cloud formation beyond the right river bank, there was a loud yell, "Daddi-i-ie!" from the left. Chuck and Carrie were waving. We all paddled to the shore, and Jeff climbed up the embankment to give Chuck a big hug. Carrie had rented a bike with a trailer on which she had stowed Chuck and their little Pekingese.
A short stretch down the river, Chuck called out again, and Jeff waved at him, his paddle held high. But this time there was a big rock just below the water surface. Jeff bumped against it and tipped right over. As instructed beforehand, I paddled to the shore to stay out of the way. Brian was there to give Jeff a hand.
Jeff had to exit under water then had to swim to shore while pulling the kayak, so he could get back in.
I was exhausted just watching him, and not much later I flipped myself, didn't even try to roll but just came "expertly" out of the boat upside down -- wet exit. When I swam to the shore, I didn't pull the kayak. Let Brian get it, I thought. "Golly, that knocks the wind out of you."
Jeff nodded. "You get really bushed."
Back at the rafting office, another guide asked, "So, have you found a new sport that you like?"
"Nah." I shook my head. "Coming here one or two weekends a year, it'd take us 20 years to be good enough for big water. We'll raft."
Jeff put a hand on my shoulder. "We tried it, but we didn't like it."
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