With my canoe on my shoulders and Smitty leading the way and carrying our gear; two life-jackets, two paddles and one bailing container, we angled done the narrow path to the sandy shore.
Standing at the water’s edge and already getting his feet wet, Smitty excitedly yelled out, “Dude those rollers are pretty good looking. They must be at least four to five feet in height.”
“We can do it.” I yelled with excitement and anticipation over the roar of the crashing waves. “We’ve got our work cut out for us because we need to get to deep water. Those rollers look like they’re sweeping the lake floor because it is so shallow here.”
We readied ourselves, just waiting for the right moment. The crashing waves were deafening. Adrenalin was pumping through our veins. Our muscles
were tense. We were ready to spring into the waves with the canoe. “Count the waves off Smitty! Make sure to get it right.” I had to yell and hoped he heard me.
The sequence was always the same. Look for the highest wave, then count each succeeding wave until you count seven. The seventh wave is always the highest. We had to put in on the next wave; it would be the smallest.
“Seven,” screamed Smitty. Like a Bobcat waiting to pounce upon its prey, we leapt into the water with my canoe and managed to keep it upright while endeavoring to get in.
Knees braced against the sides of the canoe, we pulled hard on our paddles. These rollers were tough. Smitty, my bow man, was eating those rollers as they broke over the bow. In less than five seconds he was thoroughly soaked.
In the stern, it was all I could do to maintain direction. “DUDE,” he screamed back to me, “Steer us left. We need to hit the next roller square on.”
“Smitty, I’m doing the best I can and I can’t get us straightened out. Help me. Stroke on the right side with me.”
We were screaming at each other giving directions. The ride was incredible. It felt like a roller-coaster out of control. One second the prow was in the air as we crested the wave. The next second the stern was in the air.
“Dude. Are you still with me? I feel like I’m doing it all by myself.” I’m not sure that last scream from Smitty was pure excitement or pure terror.
“Smitty, this is crazy. I don’t know if this is fun or if we’re absolutely nuts.” I realized there was a mounting tenseness in my stomach. Was that a sign of fear?
Then it happened. A rogue wave caught us off guard. Slamming into our left side, we were lifted up on its crest and brutally tossed out of the canoe. Sinking in the grey frothing angry water, I was aware of an incredible undertow. I felt it dragging me on the lake’s bottom toward deeper water. Struggling with all the strength I could muster, I thrust my way to the surface. At that moment I was indeed thankful that I chose to wear a good life-jacket.
“Dude. You gave me a scare. What took you so long to surface?” Smitty actually sounded concerned. I was touched, well not by very much though. He knew I could swim.
Coughing, I sputtered, “Smitty, I hit the bottom. There’s a serious undertow happening.”
With all the strength we could muster, we bailed the canoe until we thought it safe to re-enter.
“Hold the canoe on the left side Smitty and I’ll pull myself in on the right side. Then get over here on the right side and I’ll off-set the balance to the left while you pull yourself in.”
This was crazy. I was getting hoarse from yelling. I know Smitty was as well. Yet we continued. We were driven by both fear and the desire to conquer. We had bailed the canoe in rough water and while we were trying to get into the canoe, we were taking on more water “You want to keep doing this Smitty, or have you had enough?”
“Sounds like you’re a big suck Dude.”
That was really funny and that was all I needed. Smitty called me a suck. No one had better not want to call me a suck, least of all him. I didn’t need to think that one through. Leaning into the strong winds hitting us on the left side, I dumped us into the drink. This time I swamped the canoe, not the waves not the wind, just me. Call me a suck would he?
I surfaced before Smitty did. I didn’t hit the bottom. No way was I going that deep this time. But where was Smitty? He sure was taking his sweet time. When he surfaced, he came up behind me about thirty feet away, sputtering and coughing. It took him another moment or so before he could even yell at me but when he did yell, you could have heard him in the next county.
“Dude, I owe you for that. What are you trying to do? Drown me? You’re crazy. You’re a real nut-case. You pot licker, I ought to swim over there and…..”
I cut him off in mid-sentence and yelled back to him. “You are too cantankerous. You won’t drown that easily. Anyhow Smitty, you know how to swim so
start swimming.”
Well, Smitty swam back to the canoe and we did both safely got back into it, and although we did this crazy swamping exercise a couple of times more, we had basically run out of energy and being fully clothed and wet, we were beginning to experience some initial degree of hypothermia. Oh, and we’d yelled so much we could hardly speak audibly let alone yell anymore.
“Let’s head her back to shore Smitty. I’ll watch for the next high wave and we can surf its crest right onto the beach.”