Paddling on the Sound
24/08/12 06:09
By the standards of a person from the center of the continent, the Puget Sound is big. Olympia is down at the southern end of the sound, and it is easy to see across the water to land on the other side, buy there are places where looking north gives a bit of perspective on the size of the inlet.
For the most part, when I am in a lake or other body of water that is relatively calm, I paddle along the shoreline. At home, a trip around the shoreline of Sheridan Lake is a good distance for a paddle. I regularly paddle on larger bodies of water such as Pactola Reservoir, where I don’t cover the entire shoreline in a single paddle, so I have practiced the art of paddling for a while in one direction and then turning around and coming back. One thing that I have learned is to paddle into the wind first so you have the wind at your back when you are heading back.
A true sailor would be quick to point out that the Puget Sound is not the ocean and that it has unique qualities that protect the sound from the wildest of open ocean waves and winds. An old salt, however, would remind those who pay attention that there are plenty of dangers in the sound with currents that reverse with the tides and waves that travel in different directions due to the effects of the shoreline. Caution is always the rule when guiding a craft in any water.
By the standards of the boats one sees in the harbor, my small 12’ kayak is tiny. It is even several feet shorter than the expedition kayaks that are rented at the marina. But I feel confident paddling the boat, even on big waters. It has been several years since I built the boat and I’ve paddled it in the Atlantic, the Pacific, Lakes Superior, Huron and Michigan, the Bay of Fundy and the Puget Sound. It has been down the Yellowstone and in the Missouri in three different states. It feels very stable as I sit in the boat, even in choppy waters.
But I know that I have a very small boat and that I do not know much about these waters, so when I paddle in the Puget Sound, I keep close to the shore and stay near familiar landmarks.
Yesterday there was a little wind, so the Sound was filled with small waves. This is the normal condition for the area. The glassy smooth water with no waves that we experienced the day be fore are a rare treat. If one were to only row or paddle when it was calm like that, one wouldn’t get on the water very often.
I was having fun with the small waves. I paddled a bit over a mile down the shoreline facing the wind. The wind gives a kayaker the illusion of speed, so each stroke of the paddle made me feel strong and confident in my little boat. The water would occasionally wash over the bow and sometimes even splash my face, but I was wearing a spray skirt, so the bottom half of my body was completely dry as I sat and paddled. The sun was out and he feel of the salt spray was a delight.
When I needed to turn around because of the time, I was able to go much faster, surfing a bit on the crests of the waves as I headed back to the marina and shore. The kayak is light to carry from the water and easy to secure to its cradle on the trailer next to the rowboat.
Paddling is a good metaphor for life. We can spend a lifetime of experiences and have ventured through only part of the wide reality of life. Each life covers just a tiny fraction of the whole of history. Humans are a tiny presence in the vastness of the universe.
History has taught us that even the largest supertanker is vulnerable to the effects of the wind and waves. There is no boat made by humans that is safe in every type of water. And there are storms that demonstrate the raw power of nature and the helplessness of humans in the face of such energy. We put the names of people on storms and track them with sophisticated instruments, but we are helpless to stop their effects. Some storms, like Katrina, cause so much destruction that we forever associate the effects of the storm with the name. I sometimes have wondered if such storms have any effects on those who share their name. Is the name Katrina less used since the storm? Perhaps I will learn some of the dynamics. The latest Atlantic Storm to reach hurricane strength shares the same name as our son.
I guess that my philosophy of boats reflects my philosophy of life in general. I am drawn to small boats. While others like to command large vessels, I am content with my tiny boats. I am aware that from the perspective of the vastness of the ocean, all boats are pretty small. I like to feel the wind and the water and have no need for a tightly sealed, climate-controlled cabin on my boats. My home is on the land and the water is a place where I travel as a visitor. I do not need sleeping quarters on a boat to enjoy the waters.
A small boat has plenty to teach about the water – enough for a lifetime. I have not fully mastered the techniques of paddling and rowing. I can generally make my boat go where I want, but I sometimes waste energy. I am inefficient in my application of the oar or paddle. I sometimes miss a stroke or make an awkward splash. And my path through the water often leaves a winding wake. A boat is a good teacher of humility. As much as I try to look experienced when others are watching, I know that I am no master of the craft or of the sea. I am a novice and a visitor.
In the vast ocean of life, we travel for a little while and cover only a little space. Even a long life is short compared to the life of the planet. But the journey can be filled with adventure, beauty and learning, and joy. Like a paddle in a small boat, the joy is in the journey.
May we each find interesting waters today.