Mamas Lost?
Chapter One
Have you ever been lost? I mean totally, completely, have no idea where you are—lost! Well, I have—in fact I seem to have a propensity for getting lost. Not a tendency that I’m particularly proud of, but one that I have, just the same. I just don’t seem to have that directional gene that my husband has—I have the lost gene. Rats! Now, you would think that someone with this characteristic would just know better than to step into the wild on her own, but unfortunately that has not always been the case. I have tramped and paddled my way into all sorts of trouble over the years. In many ways it’s surprising that I have lived to tell this tale, but here I am—so here’s the first tale. In this first adventure, I was not alone, but dragged a friend along, as well. So, jump into your kayaks and follow along as I share the tale of Mamas Lost?
It was a sunny, summer day and we two grandmas (also known as the Mamas), started out for what should have been a lovely afternoon kayak to Aird Island, in Lake Huron.
At that time, my husband and I lived on a farm in Massey on the shores of the sparkling Spanish River. Two of our grandchildren lived in Gravenhurst. This great adventure began with plans to scoop up our grandchildren for a weekend camping trip.
Wanda was the other Mama and she wanted to join our adventure, which really helped the logistics of this adventure. She lived in Niagara Falls, and was able to pick the grandkids up in Gravenhurst on her way north. This vacation was going to be such fun and would be good for everyone. The parents would have a kid-free weekend and the grandparents would have a chance to get to know their grandkids, without parental interference. Little did we know what “fun” it would turn out to be.
Chapter Two
When this grand adventure was planned, it was decided that since the children were little—Gavin was four-years-old and Julianna was 8-years-old, that having them kayak out to the camping spot would be too difficult, so we nominated Papa to take all of the equipment and children out to the camping spot via motor boat. He would then have some quality time with them while they got the campsite ready. Looking back, I think he thought of this as terror not quality time, since he was solely responsible for the grandkids. But his part was absolutely necessary because we needed to reserve this amazing campsite. It was located on the pristine, white sand beach of Aird Island, and was a very popular spot to camp. In the meantime, Wanda and I planned to kayak out to there in a 23-foot tandem kayak starting at the Spanish marina, a distance of about 4 km. This was a first for us, actually many firsts—first time for Wanda to kayak, first time for me to steer and the first time to ever kayak out to Aird Island. I must say that I didn’t exactly know where Aird island was, other than in Lake Huron—somewhere close to the Spanish Marina. I just knew that finding it would be a breeze, once Bob gave me directions.
Bob, knowing my directionally challenged nature, gave me careful instructions. “Just head straight out from the marina, go through the first narrows to the right, then look straight across the channel and the sand beach that you see is our camping spot.” He raised his eyebrows.
“No problem,” I said. I gave him a playful nudge. “Quit worrying, we’ll be fine, won’t we Wanda?” With a laugh and a wave, we headed off, without a map or compass. Who needed them, after-all it was just across the bay and only four kilometers away. Simple!
Chapter Three
“We chatted and laughed as we started out. It only took a few minutes for us to get into rhythm with each other. “This is easy. It’s exciting to do this on our own,” said Wanda.
“Yah, this has to be the first time I’ve kayaked without Bob in the stern directing us. It’s pretty thrilling, even if It’s only four kilometers. Bob is likely more scared of being alone with the grandkids than we are of paddling without him.” We giggled, picturing him trying to put up tents with kid help.
As we headed out into more open water it began to get a bit choppy, but we weren’t too concerned, as the tandem kayak was pretty stable. The wind continued to build and soon we were plunging through one metre waves. I looked ahead and pointed, “look Wanda, the narrows. That will shelter us from the wind and waves. It’s a bit closer than Bob described, but it’s definitely the first narrows.” We eagerly paddled into the opening and glided to a stop.
“Good,” said Wanda—my arms feel like they’re going to fall off. I could do with a break!” We quietly floated for a few minutes to regain our strength.
“Hmm, this is a pretty shallow narrows. I wonder how Bob got the motor boat through here?”
“Yes, and it’s full of weeds. He must have had to lift the motor,” said Wanda.We began paddling again and soon saw the end of the channel approaching.“There’s the sandy shore across the bay, just like Bob had described,” said Wanda, pointing. “The lake looks a bit choppy? Do you think we can manage?” said Wanda.
“We’ve got to. I don’t see any phones around to call for help, nor the coast guard to sweep down and rescue us.” I pretended to dial my imaginary phone. Giggles erupted from us. “Well, we asked for a chance to prove ourselves. So, let’s show some Mama power.”
Laughing we headed out to meet the waves. It took a big effort to traverse that opening, but we did it. After thirty minutes we arrived at the other side of the bay and viewed with dismay the sandy coloured rocks that lined the shore. Where was the beautiful, pristine sand beach of Aird island
Chapter Four
We looked at each other in horror. Where were we? “Okay, clearly this is not Aird island, so where did we go wrong?”
“Not sure. We went through the first narrows, but it was really shallow, so it was probably not the narrows that Bob was talking about,” said Wanda. She lay across her paddle, head in hands.
I scanned the horizon and spotted another narrows off to the right. I wonder whether Bob had meant this narrows, not the one that we went through initially. We didn’t seem to have too many options other then to turn around and retrace our path—but that option looked way too daunting with the rising surf. “Let’s try the narrows up ahead, Wanda. Perhaps that’s the right narrows?”
“Okay, anything is better than going across that bay, again.
”When we exited the narrows, we again scanned the horizon for an island with a beach off to the left and saw nothing but lovely green islands and even bigger waves than before. “What do we do, now?” I asked.
Wanda glanced at her watch. “We’ve been paddling for two hours and we are no closer to reaching Aird island.” She groaned.
In fact, we had begun to realize that we might be lost or at least temporarily misplaced! What loomed uppermost in our minds was that since we believed that it was so easy to find our camping spot that we didn’t bring along a map, a compass or any sort of communication devise. Clearly, we were in a pickle. We decided that this was serious and that it was time to pray. We prayed for Bob and the children (he would be very tired of “quality” time by now), the stormy weather and that we would somehow find our way. The time was quickly passing—soon it would be dark.
Chapter Five
Meanwhile back at the camp…Bob was beginning to get concerned that we had not arrived and were nowhere in sight. He dumped the kids back in the boat and headed out to find us. He headed back to the marina, then retraced the path that he thought that we would take. He spotted a narrows way off to the right that he had never noticed before and he groaned. “Good grief”, do you think they went that way?”
He tried to go through this narrows, but the boat got stuck, so he backed out and headed for the campsite, praying as he went, because he, too noticed the building waves. What could he do now?
Wanda and I finished praying. God hadn’t provided a map or teleported us instantly to Aird, but we oddly felt at peace. Glancing around I spotted a boat off in the distance, close to shore. “Do you think they have a map, Wanda?” I pointed to the boat.
“Maybe,” she said. “It won’t do any harm to ask, let’s go.” As we approached the mid sized fishing boat we waved. They stopped fishing and watched us curiously as we floated down to them. We exchanged pleasantries and discovered that they were from Michigan and were up North on a fishing vacation. I cleared my throat. “I wonder if you happen to have a map of the area with you?” I asked, a red flush crept up my neck. “We’re paddling to Aird island for a campout and think we’ve gotten off course.” Now my whole face was crimson. Shaking his head, the skipper, pulled out his chart. He scratched his head as he pondered the map. “I thought so,” he exclaimed. “Aird is quite a distance from here, looks to be about ten miles away. That way,” he said pointing across the churning bay.
Wanda and I exchanged glances as we turned to look at the roughest and most unprotected part of the channel! We would have to travel broadside to the two metre waves to get to Aird from where we were. We’d already battled wind and waves for three hours and we were exhausted. Our heads sunk down. How were we going to manage that—what were Bob and the grandkids doing?
Chapter Six
Noticing our distress, they said, “Hey, girls, we could give you a lift. It’s not that far by motor boat?” They smiled. Was this the answer to our prayer? We shrugged, then smiled. “That would be great.”
Tying the kayak to their boat and we climbed aboard. We all had a laugh—it really tickled their sense of humor to think, that Americans had to rescue lost Canadians in Canada. Oh, the shame of it.
“I wonder if you would drop us off at the nearest sheltered bay close to Aird?” I asked.
“Oh, we don’t mind taking you all the way, it’s really no trouble at all.”
“Actually, I don’t want my husband to see us being towed. He’ll tease me forever,” I said, turning crimson, again.
“Ha-ha, I get it,” he said, slapping his thigh.
We crossed the open water and were within sight of Aird, looking for a place to re-embark, when we noticed a man standing on the beach, hands on hips. The gig was up.
Sighing, I said. “You might as well drop us right at the island, thanks.” I grimaced as we drew close to shore. I was never, ever going to live this down.
As we paddled to shore, Bob grinned. “What happened to you—lost again?” I splashed him.
We jumped out of the kayak as a large vessel cruised by. “Odd, that boat was a Coast Guard vessel. You rarely see them close to shore,” I said. Bob cleared his throat and his face turned red. “Just what’s going on?”
“Well, I knew when you didn’t show up, how easily you get lost, and I knew it was getting late and I knew the waves were building soooo.” He cleared his throat, “I called 911 and they called Search and Rescue, who called the Coast Guard.” He shuffled foot to foot.
“You did what?” hollered Wanda and I, together.
Good grief—we didn’t need that much help! That news would be broadcast on the marine emergency station alerting all boats to be on the lookout for our lost kayak. Many of my friends were boaters—I soon discovered! For weeks following our infamous kayak adventure, I had to explain, over and over again, how I managed to get misplaced this time. Another moment in life designed to keep me humble!
