By The Waters of Babylon

So I finally convinced Helayne to get a kayak! Broke as we both are, working our asses off in this licensure program, and tired of hearing me wax eulogic about the joys of being "on the water", Helayne, with her house rented from other friend, Ann G. on a pond, broke down, yesterday and hit the Web, in search of an affordable craft. 

We e-mailed back and forth all afternoon, in syncronous search. I was thrilled, as having a friend to kayak with me is not only a treat, it is also an aquatic blessing. Ann G. has a lake house and two kayaks and I've already been on the water with her, but she has to drive in from the Boston coast and it is too far and few times that we get to paddle together. Helayne I see almost every day! And while she used to be a runner and still is a dancer and a cross-country skier, for moi, the only really joyous excercise is in a kayak. For reals. 

My kayak, gift from my siblings (mostly nurse Annie), still hasn't been officially christened. I've scoped out a few possible launching sites--including two on H.'s pond--and now have Tortuga-the-Subaru with a rack, to get the kayak to water. But, I still haven't hoisted her aboard and am afraid to find I can't quite reach up there to lash her down OR the lashings won't work and I'll have to save some non-existent bucks to buy a better rack for kayaks...I am used to years of driving a pick-up on the California coastline and just tossing my kayaks into the extended truck bed. Sooooo independent and easy! Not so now...Bev and Jim have thumbs downed the idea of a pickup driven by their already "odd" daughter parked permanently in the yard...a Subaru, old as it is, still looks like a station wagon from a distance...so it is allowed. Even with the surfer rack and peace sign on the bumper...I have to figure this out.

Helayne has a Rav Four without a rack. It's way too high for either of us to hoist a kayak on top. Also, she isn't an inherent paddler--though she did learn to sail in Newport, RI. It's different. Sooo...to invest a lot of dough into getting even a used kayak didn't make sense. AFter an afternoon on E-Bay and Amazon, I realized, my first personally owned crafts were inflatables--and I paddled them in the Pacific with no ill adventures. (Well, one, but that was because I had borrowed a Tahiti two person kayak which is a big no-no to begin with, AND was trying to impress the other paddler--who had never been in a kayak--with my ocean going prowess. All was well and good until a huge wave at the break folded the kayak in half, putting the passenger upside down and on top of me as we wiped out on the beach in front of the whole party...embarrassing to say the least.) All in all though, I 've always been safe and happy in my one person vessels. Which is why I eventually took the plunge and invested in hard-hulled, real ocean-worthy kayaks. But the inflatables are a great entry point.

It occurred to Helayne when she began to compare prices, online. 

"What about an inflatable boat?" she asked.

I was off and running. Of course! Brilliant! I then e-mailed her my adventures, my thumbs-up to the idea, and my research on the newest and best rated solo inflatable craft for recreation in flat water (lakes and ponds) which is all she's really interested in doing.

After twenty minutes, she was sold. She made the committment, finding a better deal on the same boat than I'd found, and bought it. It packs up into a two by three sack, comes with a paddle and a foot pump. It has about six separate chambers that are pretty rugged--unless you drop it on jagged glass or nails. It's made of the same stuff a Boston Whaler I was given, years ago, was made of. If you pop a chamber, the kayak will still get you to shore....And though it holds one person plus maybe a water bottle, it's big enough for the kind of quiet meditation on open water that we both are seeking these days.

"It'll be here by Tuesday!" Helayne finally broke down and just phoned me.

I am as excited as she is.

My homework is wrestling "Manta", my kayak, on top of "Tortuga", my Subaru, and breaking either of them or myself, in the process.

Then, off to Helayne's house to inflate the boat and put both into the pond for a virgin voyage.

Even the snapping turtles and mosquitoes are worth bearing in order to cruise silently amid the lilypads, frogs and balletic watersnakes. The ducks and geese don't mind us; neither do the loons. Somewhere out there, a beaver or two also swim. Helayne's seen them at dawn. The Canadian geese will out paddle us, but we still share the same water. And the ubiquitous fish will watch us from below. 

Her pond is too small for motor craft, so only canoes and rowboats will pass us--but only on occasion. And then, when she's  comfortable, we can try a real, full-sized lake. For now, to have someone to paddle with, even if we don't exchange a word, is a real gift of friendship that I don't take lightly. Too often I've found myself hauling my kayak out of the truck and into the waves, solo--a real "no no". Even at night, sometimes, with lights duct taped bow and stern, getting a warning from the harbor patrol boys, but ignoring it, I would paddle out, drawn like so many sea-things, by a summer moon just too delicious to waste. Now, that is changing. For her, too, because of the lack of weight, if she gets the call in the middle of the night, she can slip from her house of teen-agers and just push her own craft into the pond, and float under her own rising moon.

To sailors and paddlers everywhere: namaste!