Paddling

Thursday's paddling trip out to visit the Otters in Sitka Sound was breath taking. Emily Bradford, a new friend and fellow Sitka enthusiast, took us out on an island otter sighting trip. Thanks Emily! Kayaking brings one so close to the water, which near harbor was as smooth as glass. On the left is a pic of housemate Josef (aka Brosef) pulling my kayak off the racks.

So before you think the trip was entirely idyllic, the fact that this was my first kayaking trip did actually play into my experience. I had paddled a canoe at summer camp, maybe doggy paddled a kayak around Greenlake near my brother Stephen's apartment. So after Emily's fantastic crash course in kayaking (the pushing away with the opposite hand does do wonders), squeezed myself a long shallow tube of (beautifully shaped) plastic, rooting around in my Xtra Tuf boots for the rudder pedals. Despite the paddling basic of paddling on your right to gliding to the left, these rudder pedals send you in the same direction as the pedal you push. This probably works fine for paddling machines with arms on auto pilot, but I felt like I was patting my head and rubbing my belly as I watched my kayak zigzag and my companions grow smaller and smaller on the gorgeous horizon. I came to the conclusion that my right arm must be hording all the spinach because seemed almost magnetically attracted to the coast to my left. It took pushing the right pedal to the metal to stay straight. Look to the left for a serene picture of me during a much appreciated break from paddling, taken by andrew from his kayak. Fortunately, I got my kayaking act together before we hit the rolling seas. When we reached the sound, the waves and small swells began. We paddled around little islands surrounded by kelp, where the otters play. I didn't snap any good pictures of them, but it was absolutely enchanting to see their little heads peek up, then see the splash as the dive under.
We beached on a little rocky island, covered in tide pools full of sea anenomes and starfish.
The layering of misty clouds and rays of sunlight highlighting the spiky evergreen islands took my breath away (picture to the right ->).
My little kayak blundering self appreciated a little Sitka is absolutely gorgeous commercial break on the island we beached at. Prancing in the tide pools and scrambling on rocks was working for me, but then we realized we needed to get back home and Emily asked me if I'd like to use the sleek, turquoise (fiberglass) kayak because she preferred the size of the one I had used on the way out.
Put simply, my launch was regrettable- a wave (about 6in high, ) came before I could get out past the rocks. My surprise turned tragic as the beautiful kayak and myself went parallel to the wave and scraped over a tricksy patch of rocks. As a side note, I happen to admire the consistency of waves, able to break over and over, again and again, but this was not a moment I was contemplating waves' beautiful consistency; the waves took me back and forth scraping over this patch and another, but never all the way over into the sea. Total panic ensues when I realized the rocky patches were to high to let me paddle out forward- the beautiful kayak, not mine, was being ruined by my lack of skills. There was lots of yelling occurring, me offering to abandon ship, and my friends instructing me to paddle backwards. Backwards? Can't I just jump out of this thing? I think I was at most 8 feet from shore during all of this drama. I thought maybe they couldn't hear this offer to jump out because they just kept yelling for me to paddle backwards. Now, with 2020 hindsight vision I can come to my own defense and say that about five feet to my left was the rocky bank of the island. My current theory is that I was instinctively refusing to paddle backwards because without eyes on the back of my head or really any backward paddling experience to speak of, it felt likely I would paddle left into the rocky bank. That theory aside, I had given paddling backward some pathetic little attempts in between waves and it had only adjusted my angle for the next wave to power sandpapering the beautiful little kayak over the rocks.(There's Emily looking cool as a cucumber as we were frolicking on the islands minutes prior. If I remember correctly, she had a slightly different posture as I ground the expensive kayak to a pulp.)
Finally I realized my friends weren't just ignoring my offers to end this fiasco by bailing, they really thought I could make it kayaking backwards, so I went for it. Andrew, Brosef, Emily: thanks for believing in me. Fortunately, I made it out and was able to make one last mental scrape: peeling my self dignity from the bottom of the ocean floor. I paddled a little ways out waiting for them to follow, only to be embarrassed further glancing back to see Brosef waving my forgotten red life-vest in the air. Ehhhhh.... yep that was mine. So, I'm feeling pretty sheepish as they grab it for me and ease into the ocean with grace.
Ready for the moment of redemption? I sure was. A little ways in on our way back Emily cheered me up by proclaiming from her roost in the orange kayak I'd paddled on the way out, "Eileen, this kayak, the one you were paddling on the way out has a crooked rudder- its amazing you were able to paddle so straight!" So maybe I'm not Popeye, not even half-popeye, and maybe I'm not so smooth on the launches, and maybe I won't be jumping to paddle any expensive kayaks anytime soon, but on my first paddle into Sitka Sound, my new friend thought I problem-solved a crotchety rudder with style :)
(If you're worried for the kayak, Emily was a sweetheart about it, and fortunately, on later inspection, it didn't seem that the rocks had done noticeable damage to the kayak). And don't you worry about me- our kayaking adventure was just one more step towards falling in love with Sitka, and I can tell you, paddling through the Sound with otters and playful friends, amidst sunshine breaking through the mist has indeed whetted my appetite for more.