the canoe incident

El, Em, Claire, Eileen and I rented a rowboat and canoe for the hour on our first day at the lake. Claire and El were in the rowboat because they wanted to fish, and me, Em, and Eileen were in the canoe.

We first headed against the current towards the northwest side of the lake so that when we turned around, we might have some wind to bring us back. It was going really very well, especially since we’re all non-canoers. We had lifevests, but I didn’t wear mine (like an idiot) because I feel comfortable swimming (more comfy than I should feel).

We were getting cocky, maybe going a bit more faster than we should. The current was getting stronger and making us veer right, and too counter it we all put our oars to paddle on the right. All three of us must’ve simply leaned to far to the right and the next thing you know, we capsized.

I was pulled under into the green murky water. I opened my eyes, and it was the most beautiful shade of green I’ve ever seen. I can still see it. Up above this bubbly froth like just poured beer. I oriented myself and began to swim up.

I took a breath. The feeling wasn’t panic. Looking back, that wasn’t what I felt. It was excitement. I was excited, and I began to laugh to myself. Maybe it was that sort of nervous, crazy laugh you let out when you realize that you just avoided an accident that could’ve seriously hurt yourself or someone else.

I saw Em and Eileen bobbing away in their lifevests. They were okay. I swam towards the canoe along with Em. Eileen just let the current take her and didn’t swim to us. I looked for my pack that I had with my cell, digital camera, and ipod. It bobbed with the current just a few feet beyond the canoe. I watched it bob there for a beat. It was clear to me that I wasn’t upset. That’s the weird thing. Over 500 hundred dollars in electronics are taking in that murky green lake water you find so beautiful, Elaine. You’ve lost your ability to contact people, capture memories, and listen to music. And you’re not upset?

No, no, no, I’m not. But I can’t dissect this right now. Not while I’m treading water and holding onto an overturned canoe. All I know is that right then and there, I felt this incredible joy that comes maybe to people who like things destroyed. Like a Fight Club moment, if I could sort of give it a name and familiar context. I felt incredibly free.

We hung there for a while until someone from the dock had seen and sent someone.

Some teenager named Jimmy with blonde hair and crooked teeth came. He tried to pull me onto the boat, but it didn’t have anything to hold to, only this slippery, metal sliding that nothing could grab at. My legs tremble at the thought. Nothing more futile than my feet trying to grab onto that smooth metal, then slipping down into that murky green. It’s like those sad cartoon villains trying to climb up a falling ladder.

He grabbed my arms so tightly and roughly, I have the bruises that battered women are familiar with. El later remarked that I look like I had been manhandled. I’ll have a story to fabricate for my self-defense teacher.

I simply didn’t have the upper arm strength to get myself up (note to self: work on that later). Em didn’t even try. Eileen was so far away some good samaritans on kayaks brought her over as she held onto their craft.

“You girls are just going to hold onto the boat while we motor to the dock.” Immediate thought: OH MY GOSH! This is going to be like an action film! I’m James Bond! I’m John McClane! This is the bad guy’s boat!

Funny how no women action heroes sprung to mind…

As soon as we got close, Em and I swam to the boat ramp and walked up. Eileen stayed in the water. Maybe she was embarassed as some people near the dock seemed to stare in wonder. City slickers, they’re thinking. One man getting ready to fish asked if I was okay. I said yeah and smiled.

Even if it was an accident, I’m glad it happened. I liked my reaction to it. Em and Eileen like that they have a funny camping store to tell, and I like the way I feel about things now, how I feel about myself. Falling out of that canoe was as much a baptism as any other babe being anointed with oil and water. Things feel and will be different from now on. I know I write that a lot, but it's true every time.