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| Blogs > Sailor376 > Do you sail? Or anything? |
You never learn a subject so well, until you try to teach another.
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You never learn a subject so well, until you try to teach another. No shit! There I was at 22,000 feet, camera duct taped to my hand. No shit, I thought I was gonna die! (And well I would have had I lost or damaged the SLR Nikon I had borrowed.) OOPS! Wrong story again. Good intro though I've used it before. Someday I'll tell you about that sky dive from a C-130. The real story follows, to wit: "Dave, this is not a good idea. In fact, except for the experience of canoing in dangerous conditions, I am against this. The only thing that I am in favour of is the experience for the others. They will not want to do it again." Dave said nothing as we began our trip across the lake. I believe he thought I was exaggerating the danger and the difficulty. I was not. I'd been here before, responsible for young lives in a canoe and on a lake in high winds. The one that I had not considered was me. Yes, I, we, Dave and I, had to stay not only behind the slowest canoe, but we also had to stay to windward of the canoe the farthest to the wind. For once downwind, beating back upwind with paddles would prove difficult and dangerous. And even more immediate than that, these were not large canoes and my 20 stone was in the front seat, I was the motor of the boat and weighing it deeply down at a time when high and dry was the need. Dave steered to keep us in rescue position should any of the canoes of the young men require it. I kept a steady stroke to the windward side to keep us moving and maneuverable. I also of necessity, kept a steady watch and balance of the canoe to rock away from the highest waves, rock the windward side high enough to keep the blue water from shipping over the side and onto my feet. I also kept my thigh to that side pressed against the gunwale, acting as a dam to the wave tops trying to best the side. Slow and slowly we moved into the wind, against current and wave trying to stay in control, a single broach to the side would sink us, and station keeping to observe and be ready to run down to any if they got in trouble. Twice I called to Dave to single hand it for a minute while I bailed out the most recent additions to our weight. Something as little as two or three gallons of water would hold us that much lower,,, and lower was not good with both wind and waves getting slowly taller. We progressed steadily across to the opposite lake shore, ducklings about. One canoe, holding the youngest and most novice paddlers we told to just beach it there, we could come to get them with the truck. They steered for shore and then not. They had made a very adult decision to tough it out and continue. I have to laugh, yes, I am glad they did, it showed toughness and resolve in the face of difficulty. But no, I personally, would have liked them to beach, wet and safe, so I could pay attention to one fewer boat. They and we dogged on, water still sloshing into my canoe from time to time, still rocking the canoe away from each larger wave to show a taller face to the sea, the gunwhale (gunnel) usually only an inch above each succeeding wave. Another mile and the landing. We made certain each beached before us. We, at my insistence, even brought ours in backwards to keep the water in the bow with me. I did not relish the thought of wet camping gear and sleeping bags for tonight. If I had the bow settled a little extra, (and I did) the water would stay forward and not try to climb under the packs. Good dinners, campfire, people tired and satisfied, tents set and bedtime with the setting of the sun. But the real gain, the real victory of safety over varlour or over confidence was the lesson brought home to the four leaders. This was just the practice run for the big trip next month on the Missouri River in Montana. And on that river all sources of information, guide books, personal stories related to me, even the actual Lewis and Clark Expedition notes of two hundred years ago, all told the same tale. Travel the river in the morning. It will likely be at peace then, neither wind or wave. But as the day warms and the heating of ground and air begins to move the air, the wind can fall off of the heights and scour the surface of the river, thunderstorms can bloom and blossom in the heat and humidity of the afternoon, Westerlies can be overcome by Easterlies forced into the canyons against the current and our route. Leave early, arrive early, and the day is easy. The lesson was not lost on any of us. We ALL arose the next morning, after our experiences on the lake, at 5:30am. Camp was packed and loaded in 20 plus minutes, breakfast eaten, site policed and cleaned. Dads and teenagers, so difficult to rouse early, roused easily and quickly. Paddle early, arrive early, the rest of the day is easy. We all learned accuracy and turning techniques that second day, logs and snags blocked the river ever few hundred feet for the next dozen miles My take on the weekend is that the adults who were teaching the boys how to load and paddle a canoe, learned more and more valuable lessons than did their charges. But isn't that the way of all teaching. You never learn a subject so well, until you try to teach another. Dean |
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A pleasure, Dear. Enjoyed some of my reading last night. And forgive me, you are awful pretty, and I always did have a thing for older women. LOL Be well, good to meet you. Dean
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