Kayak Odyssey

December 9th


We only kayak when there is no wind, and usually no wind means calm seas, but one day we went out when the waves were rolling in, breaking against the little cliffs of seaweed built up along the shore. Once out of the harbour’s shelter, it was quite frightening. You feel so close to the water in a kayak, and powerless, sliding up and down in the troughs of the waves. The others would disappear behind walls of water and bob into view again. We paddled out around the island and the waves grew. Two of the older boys navigated through a narrow channel where the sea was rushing and sucking between the rust coloured rocks, but to my huge relief we went round the long way and avoided being crushed. It made me think of the Argo slipping between the clashing cliffs.

Lija persuaded me that we should go kayak surfing, despite the cold and inevitability of falling in, so we headed into shore and paddled frenziedly in order to catch a wave. We rushed into the beach, and I lost my balance at the last minute and slipped off the back of the kayak into the waist deep water. It was surprisingly warm, although that could have been the adrenaline. Lija kept her seat and slid gracefully up onto the sand with a slightly galling grin of triumph, but that was the last time either of us would look graceful.

There was a crowd of teenagers on the beach, some of them Lija’s students, who watched us floundering around in the spray with disdain. We were almost crying with laughter, and oblivious to their scorn, until one of them decided to lob a stone at us which narrowly missed my head. Isn’t it the Cyclops who stones Odysseus when he is making his escape? Of course, people can be bastards anywhere, but I couldn’t help feeling that it was the fact that we were English girls, enjoying ourselves in a childish way that interrupted their adolescent beach skulking and chain smoking which incited the stone throwing. We decided to make a tactical retreat, but it turned out that getting out to sea was a lot more difficult than surfing into shore, and it took several attempts, with both of us falling out, tipping the kayak over and choking on the breakers before we got beyond the surf and paddled back to the sailing club. Walking home, my feet were so numb with cold that I hobbled along having to watch to make sure they were in the right place.