Unsinkable

A friend called me around noon on Saturday, asked me if I wanted to help her son with his Eagle Scout project.

I was working on “rebuilding” my front door latch plates (they were misdrilled and not lined up and etc… really it was just another excuse to use my chisles). I hadn’t had any pop yet, which I pointed out to her on the phone, but when someone asks you to participate in an Eagle project, you accept. Its an honor, and its just the right thing to do.

So I did. They came and got me and I just pulled the front door close to being closed. We went from my house to another friends’ house, where this woman and her scout son left and lead us to another friend’s house, where we were picking up a canoe.

I guess this is a good place to describe the Eagle project. It is to deploy a floating duck nesting platform into a pond — the pond just happens to be at the Governor’s mansion (Bonus: name my city). Apparently, ducks usually nest on the shore, where they may get trampled by visitors, not to mention nests raided by foxes, etc. A floating platform gives them much more safety.

With the canoe mounted on top our pickup, we followed the other friend and scout son (okay, her name is Jennifer, and his name is Ryan. I’ve met them before at other scouting functions with my friends’ but don’t really know them) to the Governor’s mansion, and Ryan and I proceeded to carry the canoe some quarter mile to the pond.

Once there, Sean (the scout whose project this is) proceeded to tie a nylon rope to his concrete-in-a-bucket-with-eyot anchor. The remainder of the cord he left bundled, and put it, the anchor and the nesting box into the canoe. His mom gave him her Extremely sharp hunting knife, which we were under penalty of death not to drop into the pond.

Oh, yeah, see, I am the one who has to go paddling with him, since I have the most paddling experience. This is humorous, because at my weight, plus the weight of the anchor, the water was only an inch or two below the gunwhales, and I made the whole flotilla very top-heavy. We emptied both of our pockets before getting in, and Scouting regs required both of us to be wearing life-vests.

The weather on Saturday was warm, probably upper fifties. They had picked today to do this just for that reason — likely the warmest day we will have for another month or three. We had snow just a couple of weeks ago, and temperatures had stayed in the 40’s overall. So the ground and water were still very cold, but at least the ice was gone and the ground was soft.

Part of the point of projects like this is for the young person to learn things. Sometimes, its to learn things on their own through trial and error, or by observations of their mistakes.

One which I observed, was lacking a clear plan of execution before entering the boat. Another, was not fully unwinding the rope before getting in. Three, which I was about to experience, was the scout’s failure to consider and compensate for the rolling of the boat when you throw a 50 pound weight over the side.

The boat obviously rocked rapidly to the opposite side, and we were too close to the waterline for me to correct it before we started swamping. Realizing that I was the most serious threat to the project at that moment, I went ahead and ejected from the canoe when my arm was in the water.

Immediately I experienced COLD!

As soon as my head broke the surface, I knew I would be ill-advised to try to swim to shore. I could probably make it, but I would have suffered massive chilling effect by having my chest submerged in probably 37 degree water. So I dogpaddled to the canoe, threw my chest over the bow, stowed the paddle, and chokingly with shivers told him to paddle me to shore — I wouldn’t be able to swim.

Well, now we had a problem. The anchor was already deployed. If we abandoned it, we’d effectively lose it. Maybe the rope would float…but we didn’t want to take a chance. So while I waited, he began to unravel the rope, which had both gotten wet, and cinched tight as he tried to keep hold of it when the canoe reeled from my ejection.

As I waited, I realized my well-insulated thighs were keeping my legs quite warm, and that the air temp, while cool, was significantly warmer than the water, and I would survive. So after another minute or two, I pulled myself further up, turned myself, and basically straddled the bow. My feet hung off each side in the water, and my chest was braced by one of the thwarts. This actually let me use my hands to move things around.

After another 10 minutes, we managed to tie off the nesting platform, and this time he THREW it from the canoe, rather than dropping it just over the side. He then paddled to shore, where I was met with a blanket and offers of a steak dinner.

I accepted. *g* But first — after returning the canoe to the friends we borrowed it from, and then taking me home — I enjoyed a Long, Hot Shower.