As
I stood on the bank looking at the river, I tried to work out in my mind a
strategy for getting across in the kayak. I actually had first considered the
canoe. Nick does it. Nick was the director of this small camp and usually lived
there, even when there were no campers. He told me that he sits in the middle
of the canoe instead of the rear when he is alone, since it gives him better
control. I wondered if he would try it with the water at this level or if he
would let the river go down.
I
remembered many years ago when I lived in India, the people of Kashmir had
canoe-like vessels that they used on the lake in Srinagar. They paddled them by
squatting down right in the bow with the canoe behind them. To me this made
some sense on calmer water, but I did not see how it could work here.
No, I thought…the canoe, would be
too massive for me to handle. I had better use the kayak. I hesitated with
this decision. In the past, the kayak had not been that faithful of a friend to
me.
I
still do not know the proper way to cross a fast-flowing river in the kayak. I
now only know of one improper way.
Or, perhaps it is the proper way but I just did it in an improper manner. My
strategy was to point the kayak at an angle upriver and try to keep it at that
angle as I paddled across. I of course realized that the current would carry me
downriver, but that at least I would come to the opposite bank.
One
of the problems was that I did not have a large target area. On the opposite
bank, there was only a short distance where one could easily land a canoe or a
kayak. After that small area of riverbank, the shore becomes steep and brushy, making landing difficult.
And then the river begins a sharp bend, with the bank opposite the cabin
being the main channel where the water is rushing around on the outside of the turn
in the river. On this bend, the outside bank consists largely of rocks, which
the water was striking very hard and even throwing spray up into the air as it
rushed in waves around them.
Well,
I thought… there was nothing to do but give it a try. I could not find the
kayak paddle at the camp, only the canoe paddle. (Vivian later showed me where
there were several kayak paddles. I should have asked her first). But I just figured
that I would do it with a canoe paddle. After all, I thought, only one end can
go it the water at a time anyway.
I
had a plastic garbage bag (clean) with some dry clothes that I assumed that I
would probably need when I reached the other bank. This bag I tied around my
waist so I would not lose it in case I would capsize. After a short word to
God for help in this venture, I got into the kayak.
CROSSING ATTEMPT
The
kayak, I decided, was not designed by a 60-year old person, but considering
what it took me to get comfortably seated; I calculated that it was probably designed
by about a 20-year old. Once settled in, I was ready to try out my
aforementioned strategy for crossing the river.
True
to my plan, I angled the kayak at about a 45° upriver and started paddling like
mad. However, I soon saw the error in my calculation of how the kayak would
respond to the current. There was no possible way that I was able to maintain
this angle against the current. The force of the river immediately pushed the
point of my kayak around and sent me heading quickly downriver. Sometimes the kayak
was flowing frontward and sometimes backwards, depending upon the will of the
river at the moment.
I
kept paddling, now thinking that it would be handy to have a paddle blade on
the other end of the paddle as well, since when the kayak was turning, I could
not get the canoe paddle to the other side fast enough to help me control it.
But control was just a dream anyway; at this point I was simply trying to stay
upright.
Paddling
like a madman, I did manage to get quite near the opposite bank, although I was
now far downriver from the “ideal landing spot.” What was more, the current
right at the bank was the strongest, so that when I got too near the bank, the flow
would push me back out into the river, keeping me from actually getting to
land.
Now
brush was sticking out into the river, slapping at my face as I rushed past. I
tried to grab onto it with my one free hand, but I was travelling too fast and
could not hold on.
Then I saw it: a log that was lying just below the surface of the river, sticking out from the bank. Water was shooting up at the point where it hit it. The kayak struck the log hard and sent me tumbling into the water, which in the winter season when we were there, was quite cold.
Then I saw it: a log that was lying just below the surface of the river, sticking out from the bank. Water was shooting up at the point where it hit it. The kayak struck the log hard and sent me tumbling into the water, which in the winter season when we were there, was quite cold.
The
paddle went flying. I saw it in the water for an instant and grabbed for it,
but at that point my head went completely under as I was being tossed around by
the current. With one hand, I held tightly onto the kayak. I did not want to
loose that as well. I think that without my hand on the kayak while I was under
the water, I may not have known which way was up.
As
I surfaced I saw that I was still near the bank, but I could not get over to
grab something. I looked ahead and saw that I was rapidly approaching the
rocks. I knew I could never survive if I hit those rocks.
Right
then and there, I decided to follow the example of the Apostle Peter. When he
found himself drowning in the sea, he cried out, “Lord Jesus, help me!”
This
is what I did. “Lord Jesus, help me!” This now had become my new strategy for crossing the river.
I
have heard sermons in the past that have criticized Peter for his lack of faith
in the situation that he was in at the time. I may have even mentioned myself
it in some of my sermons. After all, Jesus did say to him, “O you of little
faith, why did you doubt” (Matthew 14:31 ).
But I think that after this experience of mine, I will be a little more
judicious with my words about Peter.
In
Peter’s case, after he had cried out for help from the Lord, Jesus reached down
his hand and lifted him up, out of the waves. In my case, the hand that came
down was in the form of a very small eddy along the bank that had been created
by the way the brush was breaking the current at that place.
I
suddenly found myself in this eddy and out of the main flow of the river. I am
not at all sure how I got in there, since I did not even see it until I was in
it. One of my hands still hanging on to the rope of the kayak, with the other
hand I grabbed some of the brush that was there and pulled myself up on the
bank, dragging the kayak with me. My dry clothes (I hoped that they were still
dry) were still in the bag tied to my waist. The canoe paddle was long gone. I
would not see that again.
IN TOWN
I
will not bore you with all of the other particulars of the trip. In town I
looked for a new canoe paddle. One store had only kayak paddles, which I was
going to buy until he told me the price was almost $100. I could not get myself
to pay that much when I knew that one of my sons just bought a kayak itself in the U.S. for
just about $300.
But
another store had a canoe paddle for about $25, which was more to my liking.
Going across the river in the other direction would not be so difficult. I had
worked it out how I would do it and because I would be landing on the inside of
the bend, the water on that side would not be flowing so rapidly. There was
also a long and large bank on the cabin side where I could easily land the
kayak.
I
told the guy in the store about my experience and he must have somehow gotten
the idea that I was telling him a funny story, since he laughed the whole time
as I was describing my strategy for crossing, the brush hitting my face, and
the kayak tipping over sending me into the river. He especially laughed when I
told him that I reckoned that my canoe paddle was now somewhere out in the Bay of Plenty .
I will forgive him for this one day soon. I suppose in a similar situation and if I were the store clerk behind my dry little counter selling canoe paddles, I may also have seen a little humor in this story.
I will forgive him for this one day soon. I suppose in a similar situation and if I were the store clerk behind my dry little counter selling canoe paddles, I may also have seen a little humor in this story.
The
return trip across the river went much better. I carried the kayak along the
bank far up river before I put in. Also, since the rapid current was close to
the bank where I put in, I could paddle through it and make it to the less
rapid water near the other bank.
All
things considered, I was thankful to be back at the cabin.
Oh,
there is one more thing: I forgot to buy the coffee.
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I was back at the cabin, but there were more storms to come. There is also part 3 and maybe part 4 to come a little later.
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I was back at the cabin, but there were more storms to come. There is also part 3 and maybe part 4 to come a little later.
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