This photograph could be characterized in many ways. Some would use words like peaceful or relaxing to describe this scene. But, if I were asked to name this particular photograph I would use different words. The Calm Before The Storm. A Good Idea Gone Bad. Minutes Before Mayhem....come to mind.
So, yesterday was a very mixed day for me. On the positive side of the ledger was another glorious sunny day on a lake in Maine, where no matter what happens, it’s always a good day. When bad things happen in Maine it’s all extremely relative. Generally speaking, the folks back home don’t want to hear you complaining about how hard it is to find a car wash—while you’re lazing around for a month on a lake! “How about you wash the car yourself, you lazy bum?” Nevertheless, just because we’re in Maine for a month does not mean that bad things can’t happen...which brings me back to the idyllic photograph above. It all started when my wife ( See: Genesis 3:12 ) had an inspiration while we were sitting on the end of our dock enjoying the sunshine:
Pam: Wouldn’t it be fun if we took our beach chairs out to the swimming float? That way we would have a better view of the lake and the way it floats around in circles, it would be like being on a ride at the Fair!!
Me: (in my head. NOT spoken aloud) Or, like being on that plate inside a microwave. (Spoken aloud) Sure. Sounds fun. Let’s just float out there with our chairs.
Pam: No, I was thinking of kayaking out.
Me: Ok
She went first. She got into her kayak. I handed her the chair, her paddle, her beach towel, and her bag of stuff...since my wife goes nowhere without her bag of stuff. I followed closely behind carrying my chair, my beach towel, with no bag of stuff. I mean...why?
Anyway, I watched with muffled laughter as Pam struggled mightily trying to hoist her beach chair onto the swim float (Pro Tip: Irony alert!). In the process of her clumsy efforts, her beach towel got soaking wet, but she eventually got the chair on the float and her kayak tied off with my gallant help. Speaking of gallantry, I offered her my dry towel for her use as I wrung out her wet one. She looked at me with those adoring eyes and sighed, “My hero!!”
I must admit that while we were out there it was kinda nice. Pam was right. We had a nicer view, and the 360 degree rotation of the swim float was fun. So far, her inspiration had proven to be a great success. But, after packing up Pam in her kayak for her return trip to the dock, I began surveying my options for leaving the swim float and like Abe Lincoln right before the play was about to start, I thought, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” There was nobody to hand me the chair, and the wind had picked up. So I fit the chair in the kayak all cock-eyed and catawampus. Then I thought, I’m going to have a hard time fitting my legs in what’s left of that little opening, maybe I should get it first then reach for the chair? But, as is my custom when presented with any dilemma, I chose the brute force option...”No problem, I’ll make it work!”
I didn’t.
As soon as my bottom hit the seat, it became clear that there was too much weight on the starboard side of the kayak. Then, things started to go in slow motion. As my vessel began its rightward tilt I grabbed for the swim float in vain. The next thing I know I’m flailing around in ten feet of water with a capsized kayak and a folding beach chair drifting away into the depths. I grabbed for the chair, retrieved it, then it promptly opened, serving as a giant sail behind me as I struggled to reach the kayak before it too drifted off. All of this time, Pam is oblivious to my plight, unloading her chair onto the dock, triumphant in the knowledge that she had come up with such a fun idea!
As I was pushing the upside down kayak forward with one hand, and dragging an open beach chair through the water behind me with the other, dog paddling like a madman, it occurred to me that my cell phone was in the pocket of my swim trunks.
Finally, after the longest 90 foot swim of my life, I managed to reach the dock, throw the beach chair onto the deck and struggle up the steps, totally exhausted. I was able to save the kayak and the chair, and myself from a far worse fate. Pam did check to see if I was alright first...but then asked, “Honey, where’s the towel? That was my all time favorite towel!”
“I would imagine it’s at the bottom of the lake,” I gasped, gulping for air, as Pam quickly got back in her kayak to begin her ultimately unsuccessful towel search and rescue operation. “Don’t worry,” I yelled. “We’ll send Patrick or Jon down to look for it when they get here!!” Pam yelled back, “But, I LOVED that towel!!”
The lesson here guys, if you’re wondering, is never be all gallant and offer your wife your ratty old black and white striped towel you bought at the Dollar General to use while you dry out her favorite towel in the Universe. If not for that stupid mistake it would have been my ratty towel that sunk to the bottom of Crawford Pond. Problem solved!!