Canoe Imagine

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Sundown at Kejimkujik National Park 


It was supposed to be a simple canoeing experience. That's how it started. We had spent a day in the pool at Saint Clair College learning to drown-proof. Apparently, it's a thing. Everyone had to fall out of a canoe and pretend they were lost at sea or on the lake. The good news. If you survived, they gave you a life vest. Drowning-proofing requires breathing, rolling into a ball, and floating. Wilson!!! Breath, tread, ball and float. Eventually, we all pass the test. Now, we were ready for the real test. 

One of our teachers lived on Pike Creek. Well, not on the creek. In a house.  The school had parked our supplies of canoes and flotation devices in the driveway. We were paired up, each geared up and ready to hit the water. That's when things got interesting.

I was paired with a teacher who was taller and much heavier than I. He was in the back. His job was steering. I had learned to steer while in the college pool. The sweep stroke and the J stroke, but because of our weight difference, I would have had a real stroke trying to steer the canoe with all the weight in front. For that reason, he was in the back. I weighed eighty-nine pounds. I wasn't too keen on finding out how much I weighed, soaking wet. We soon found out that that was a distinct possibility downstream.

Pike Creek is easily manageable, and paddling was effortless. The mouth of the river and Lake Saint Clair was a little more work. We paddled across to Peche' Island for a little excursion. It was delightful.

As the day went on, we had one last stretch of water to navigate. We didn't plan on the wind picking up from the west or the size of the whitecaps we had to paddle through. We soon found out that it is hard to control a canoe when half of it is not in the water. I could feel the fear behind me. The person I counted on to steer was freaking out. "Lean into it," He yelled. I was leaning into it, and I could barely get the paddle into the water. I was hanging on for dear life, lying across the front of the canoe, stretching to get the paddle into the water. Our extraction point was Pellette dock. On a good day, it wouldn't take long to get there. This was not a good day.  It was almost goodnight. I had my head down as I paddled and only looked up to see if we were making any gains. Sometimes, to make gains, we must endure pains. I was feeling the pain. My arms throbbed,  my body bobbed, and it seemed we weren't going anywhere. The waves were winning. But somehow, we managed to get to our destination. We emerged beat up but still alive. 

Years later, I was in a canoe with a girlfriend. We were paddling on the shallows of Lake Saint Clair. Things were going good, that is, until she moved. Over we went.  I immediately stood up. The water was waist-high. She immediately went crazy and started frantically yelling. "I can't swim, I can't swim." I looked at her and said, "Stand up." This is the same girl who thought going down the rapids at Elora Gorge on an air mattress was a good idea. Over they went, my girlfriend and another. She lost her mind. She did cause quite a stir when she stood up and found out it wasn't the only thing she had lost. Her bathing suit top was floating downstream. Before she even realized she was half-nude, she had a bunch of guys running along the shore to help her, or maybe it was to get a better look. 




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