We are defined
by what we do, both by choice of occupation and by leisure activities. When
there is a sudden restriction placed on our activities, we are affected not
just by the lack of a favoured pasttime, but can feel like a large part of our
lives, or of our self, is missing. With a long term back injury flaring up
earlier in the year, plus some other health issues, it’s been a few months
since I’ve been able to get on the water. Wayne, not to be upstaged has just
had surgery with the removal of two discs and the fusion of three vertebrae. (He
won the race to the neurosurgeon, going from consultation to surgery and then
to a follow up visit with the surgeon coming up this week, while I am still
waiting on a second appointment for my specialist with some slightly worrying
MRI results that left me a number of interesting words to google J). While Wayne’s recovery is going well, and the outcome has been a
lot better than we had hoped, it will be some time before he is allowed to do
anything too active.
Without my
weekly kayak fix I’ve realised just how big a part of my life it has become. My
kayak, too long to fit in the garage, has its own room in the house, and has
been sitting in silent judgement each time I pass it. While there have been
many times I would have loved to go out, the simple inability to lift the kayak
has left me spending the last few months pondering the question - just what do
non-paddlers do with their time??
Sometimes, it
seems that all the planets have aligned for once, and some opportunities cannot
be passed up. When you get a winter’s
day that is sunny, pleasant, and with barely a hint of breeze, the call of the
kayak just can’t be ignored, combine that with the fact that I actually made it
through a week at work without aggravating my back and I just had to give it a
shot. Wayne urging me to get out there and managing to sound only a little
jealous helped too.
With the wonderfully intelligent street design in our suburb, I beat Wayne to the park. |
A bit of
interesting planning had to go into getting to the water, with both of us
limited on lifting (Wayne can’t do any lifting, and I can’t lift anything above
about hip height), there is no way we can currently get the boat onto the car’s
roof-racks, so alternative plans had to be made. I was able to manoeuvre my
boat onto a cart and out of the house, from here I was hoping the walk to the
water would be manageable (distance is not too bad, and downhill all the way J). This would allow me to get to the water, but there is no
possibility of fitting the cart into the Tahe’s tiny hatches. Solution - my
gear was loaded into the car as usual, which gave me less to haul. I then walked
my boat through the streets, while Wayne drove down to meet me at a park we
used to use as a regular put-in when we lived a little closer to the water. Once
I was set to go, the cart went back in the car with Wayne and he would come to
meet me again later.
Absolute serenity! A perfect day for a return to the water. |
The moment I
dipped my paddle in the water I felt like I had returned home. It was both
reassuring and satisfying to feel the paddle finding the perfect angle as it
entered and passed through the water, to feel the familiar, comforting rhythm
of paddle-stroke and leg drive and to be able to gaze out at the sunlight
dancing on the water. I have always loved paddling in winter, on most days you
have the water pretty much to yourself and on a calm day, everything seems that
little bit crisper and clearer. With no
offence intended to Wayne (he got me into kayaking and we have paddled together
for many years) I love paddling alone, there is certainly enjoyment in paddling
with the right people, but paddling alone is a very different experience and I
enjoy it for so many reasons. Being out there on my own this time gave me a
sense of reconnection with the natural world that I love. It is sometimes hard
to explain to non-paddlers some of the things I love so much about kayaking. We
have spent a lot of time walking lately as an alternative that we are both
capable of, and while I love bushwalking and our walks on the amazing beaches
we have nearby, as a walker I feel a little more like a spectator. Being in a
kayak gives me a much stronger sense of connection, I am not just looking at a
scene, I am part of the scene. I have heard it described as bushwalking on
water, but I think there is something much stronger, much more personal to
kayaking than bushwalking.
Wayne drove onward to surprise me as I passed a jetty shortly after my start, on my own after this. |
I have found
some interesting changes in my paddling since I started in Greenland rolling, I
had always felt that kayak guides who insist on rolling during every trip were
just showing off, but since spending so much time in the water rolling,
sculling and generally having far more fun than you would expect to have just
staying in one place, I have discovered that every time I’m paddling I have an
overwhelming urge to roll. The water calls to me as I paddle, almost like a
partner inviting me to dance and it can sometimes be a hard urge to resist. I
realise how much of a disservice I was doing to a number of people over the
years – they weren’t really showing off, rolling is just so much fun it’s a
constant temptation to simply lean in and dance with the water. I resisted the
urge this time, while nowhere near the temperatures our Canadian friends
endure, the water is still a bit chillier than I like at this time of year.
About a hundred Cormorants who were occupying a rocky reef, usually a favourite spot for Pelicans, but it seems to have been invaded. |
I spent the next
couple of hours being pleasantly reminded of so many of the things I love about
kayaking. With no destination set, and knowing I would be nowhere near my
former speed, I took the chance to just cruise and enjoy, stopping to take a
few photos, or watching the many birds who seemed to have emerged in numbers to
enjoy the spectacular day. My company included Ducks, Pelicans, Cormorants, Sea
Gulls and Terns, a pair of Sooty Oyster Catchers watched me warily and gave
their shrill cry as I paddled past their rocky perch and a pair of Black Swans
surprised me as I rounded a small island and found them gliding along on glass
smooth water in their own private little retreat. The call of a Whistling Kite
drifted across the water, one of my favourite birds, but I had to be content
with just its’ voice today as it remained out of sight. It was such an
enjoyable day, even the unseasonal appearance of a pair of jetskis failed to
annoy me.
The breeze picked up as I headed back and I got to enjoy a very rare
experience for me – a tale-wind (it doesn’t matter what the forecast, or where
we are heading, we almost always get headwinds J). I returned to the put-in feeling pleasantly
fatigued, a few muscles reminding me that perhaps I’m a little out of shape,
but not feeling too bad. The GPS reading gave me a modest 11.8km, a distance I
would previously have scoffed at, but was quite happy with today. I also had
the walk back to look forward to – did I mention that the walk to the water had been all downhill? Wayne played shuttle for my
trolley and gear again, meeting me at the park once more and I admit to feeling
just a little guilty after having so much fun while he can’t paddle, but it was
just too good a day to let guilt spoil it.
Ready for the walk home - Uphill all the way :) |
The excitement
of being back on the water and the enjoyment of such a perfect day has given me
a new drive to get out there again, and nature has worked her magic and left me
feeling a lot more positive. I still
have an upcoming appointment with my neurosurgeon, and have to hope for a
simpler fix than Wayne’s dramatic surgery, but I intend getting back on the
water as much as I can (and I’m sure Wayne will be joining me as soon as he’s
allowed J). As they say, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ and my time
off the water has given me a much stronger appreciation for the many, many
magical experiences I have had paddling over the years.
Of course, it
hasn’t been all doom and gloom since my last post, we have still had our share
of fun and I hope to make amends for my neglect on my blog with a bit of a
catch up on some fun events in my next post. For those sitting at home making excuses
about the weather, or too tired/lazy/busy – Get Out There! There will be times
when you are unable to and you will regret every time you rolled over and slept
in on a cold morning instead of getting your kayak fix J.
Some of my companions for the day. |
Sorry to hear about the injuries, hope you both recover quickly and are able to return to the water sooner rather than later.
ReplyDeleteThanks Sean,still hoping to be in the Hawkesbury this year,although I might be paddling a bit slower, you might beat me this time :)
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