Stuck on the Rocks, Again – Chapter 5 – part 3
Stuck on the Rocks, Again – Chapter Five, part 1
Stuck on the Rocks, Again – Chapter 4 – part 2
Stuck on the Rocks, Again – Chapter 4 – part 1
Step into the Wild – story Six – Paddling is Paddling-Right?
Chapter One
Following that one adventure out to the Lighthouse on Lake Superior, we felt pretty confident that we could tackle a trip on our own. We had purchased two single fourteen-foot kayaks and had practiced with them on the Spanish River, beside our house. Camping had been part of our adventures for years so we had all the necessary equipment to plan a short expedition. This year we were decided to go on a trip out to Wilson Island to check out the amazing Sea Arches, that our guide had mentioned the year before. We headed north, directly to Rossport, where we had booked an overnight stay at the Rossport Inn. This Inn provided cute little individual cabins, barely big enough for two, that overlooked the coastline of Rossport. They were located fairly close to the railway, which was still in active use, so we expected and received a cabin shaking experience of the train flying by, whistles blowing. But one absolutely wonderful discovery was the best food ever, offered at the quaint little Inn. We arrived on time for the evening meal and sadly ate so much of the fabulous food, that we left no room for the biggest, thickest blueberry pie we had ever seen. Bob asked them to save him a slice for breakfast, claiming that with that fuel he’d be able to out paddle me all day!
Chapter Two
The next morning, streams of sunshine, burst through the little cabin’s window. Packing our gear, we headed down to the water to begin the laborious job of packing the kayaks. Tedious would be a good description of the process of packing a kayak—so different from a canoe. On a canoe trip, you had big packs and possibly a food barrel that you would stuff all your gear and food into, then would simply toss the packs into the canoe, tie them down and in less than thirty minutes you’d be on the water. Not so with kayaks. All the gear and food had to be put in small dry sacks, including your clothes, tent, and sleeping bags, then all these little sacks had to be stuffed into the hatches of each kayak. It was an exercise of scientific planning to fit everything in.
We divided the sacks between the two kayaks, but found to our dismay that our hatches were simply not big enough to hold all of our gear. Our tent was too long, our sleeping bags too thick, the pots too fat and the cookstove too unbendable to squish into the small hatches. We tried several ways to make it work, but always had leftover gear, when the holds were full. An hour later we sat back on the sand, to take a breather.
“Okay, it doesn’t look like it’s all going to fit,” I said, tossing the tent to the ground.
“Nope, it doesn’t—clearly our canoe trip equipment isn’t suitable for these boats,” said Bob, still holding the pot he’d been trying to squeeze in.
All of our gear was spread on the ground around the kayaks. I got up and sorted the gear into a pile of ‘I can’t live without this, gear’ and ‘I might be able to live without that, gear.’ To my frustration, I noted that the stuff we absolutely needed, were by far the longest, fattest gear—the ones that just wouldn’t fit. I raised my hands to the air, “What are we going to do?” An answer I was not expecting, arrived in a flash.
Chapter Three
I watched in amazement, as the blue sky and sunshine that greeted us that morning, was suddenly replaced by a zagged flash of lightening. In a blink the entire horizon had turned a dark, purple colour, with streaks of bright white light dashing across it. We could literally see the storm rushing our way. That got us moving. Quickly we flipped the kayaks over, grabbed all our scattered gear and dashed for the Inn. Just arriving, as the first splash of rain hit the awning. I stood on the veranda watching in awe, when one of the owners joined me.
“Amazing how fast a storm develops around here,” he said, pushing his hat back.
“Yeh, it was sunny an hour and a half ago. Now, look at it. You can hardly see the lake.” I lifted my eyes in wonder, whispering, “You knew this was coming.”
“Well, when you’ve lived around here as long as I have, you get to know when storms are brewing,” he replied as he shuffled inside, door clapping shut behind him.
Bob, pushed out through the door, to stand beside me. Wonder filled my face. “What’s got you so lit up?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows.
“Oh, I just stand amazed at how well we are protected.”
He turned quizzical eyes towards me.
“If we’d had our way, we would have been halfway across that bay, in open, unprotected water, when this storm hit. Just look at those waves—they must be five-feet high.” I shook my head.
Bob nodded. “Yep, we were frustrated that things didn’t fit, but God was busy protecting us from the storm. Amazing grace.”
Linking arms with Bob, we headed back to our little cabin to play some cribbage while we waited for the flash storm to abate. “Perhaps, we can try a day paddle tomorrow?”
We smiled at each other. We’d go back home tomorrow and return in a year, better prepared.
Step into the Wild – Story Five New Lake – New Boat
New Lake—New Boat
Chapter One
In the winter of 2006, our son Bill decided to go to Lakehead University in Thunder Bay. He’s an outdoor enthusiast like us and wanted to attend a university that gave him access to the great outdoors. We did a little happy dance, because for years we had been wanting to paddle on Lake Superior— the largest freshwater lake in the world by surface area and this would be our opportunity as we took Bill to and from school. Lake Superior is a natural wonder filled with a fascinating history of shipwrecks, plus absolutely the most unique, sometimes terrifying, wind and water conditions. It stretches across the U.S. and Canada with famously cold, clear waters and stunning coastal landscapes, making it one of the most intriguing lakes in the world. But this lake had to be approached very carefully. Lake Superior’s weather conditions are famously unpredictable, contributing significantly to its hazardous nature. The lake’s vast surface area allows for sudden and severe weather changes, posing a constant threat to those navigating its waters.
I shivered at I researched the lake. Apparently during severe storms waves have reached a height of up to 20 feet or more. But it’s not only the waves that make it dangerous, it also has longshore currents that move parallel to the shore, driven by waves hitting the shore at an angle and rip currents, which are strong, narrow currents, that drive the unwary out to the deep. All in all, it sounded like a pretty challenging prospect. We couldn’t wait to test our paddling skills in this exciting lake. But our investigation did bring one thing to mind— this adventure would require a different type of boat—something able to withstand sudden, gigantic waves at moments notice.
Chapter Two
It was time to switch to kayaks. Kayaks are long, low-profile boats, that can slice through any water conditions, and are close enough to the water to minimize wind affects. In addition, the cockpits can be covered with a skirt, that prevents water from filling the boat. They were the perfect solution for Lake Superior. The only problem was that we didn’t own kayaks and didn’t know how to paddle them—but how hard could it be? Afterall, paddling is paddling—or so I thought. To our delight, that winter the Espanola complex was offering beginner’s kayaking classes. The perfect solution—we signed up right away.
So, there I stood, after work one evening, on the pool deck, paddle in hand, looking at four kayaks bobbing in the pool. The instruction began with teaching us how to get in. I scoffed. “Surely, they can bypass this part—we’re all paddlers,” I mumbled to Bob.
He lifted his eyebrows, shrugging. “Shush, it must be important.”
Crossing my eyes, I turned to watch as the instructor smoothly put her hands on the combing, on each side of the kayak and neatly slid into her seat. Easy Peasy—right? Wrong!
I mimicked her technique, exactly—I thought, but somehow ended up in the water. My kayak remained upright. “Hmmm, how did that happen?” I mumbled, as a red flush surged up my face.
Bob was sitting in his kayak, grinning. “It’s really easy, Lynn.” He whistled a little tune.
I pulled myself out of the water and tried again. A similar result, except this time, I overturned the kayak. Swimming with the kayak to the shallow end, the instructor and I turned it over to mostly empty it. Perhaps paddling isn’t paddling? I never had trouble getting into a canoe.
“Perhaps you can work on your entry, later?” whispered the instructor, as she helped me to get in.
“Ya, I’ll practice.” The snickering stopped, as she moved on with her lesson. “Sure, hope this isn’t a sign, that kayaking is not for me?” I whispered.
Chapter Three
Once I was in the kayak, it wasn’t hard to paddle. With every paddle stroke, I gained confidence. The paddle was two sided, but the strokes were very similar. Before long we were all zooming around the pool, sometimes playing bumper-cars while trying to navigate the small area. I took to it pretty well, I thought, but as time ticked by, I seemed to get slower, and was unable to make the turns that I thought that I had mastered, earlier. I stopped at the edge of the pool for a breather, but pushed off when I saw the instructor coming my way. More attention, I didn’t need. Valiantly, I tried to pick up the speed, but slowly realized a strange phenomenon—I was sinking. Well, okay, I wasn’t exactly sinking, but my kayak and I were definitely lower in the water. In addition, I noticed that there was a distinct sloshing sound when I’d lean into a turn. I took a glance behind me and gasped. “Did you give me a kayak or a submarine?” My stern was totally submerged. It was suspended about six inches below the surface of the pool.
The snickers began, again. “Having trouble?” said Bob, with a sassy grin.
I tried to splash him, but fell out, instead. The sinking stern filled with water, made the kayak very tippy.
“Everyone, gather around,” said the instructor. “This is a good lesson.” She got into the pool with me, to help pull the really, really heavy kayak onto the deck, then reached down and pulled open my stern hatch. “Look, everyone, the hatch is full of water—which is why you sank. This hatch has no inner seal, so when you tipped over earlier it must have started to fill with water, gradually filling up as you paddled.” She grinned at me. “Always check your hatches, before you paddle.”
“Sure, hope this isn’t an omen—I don’t want to be the next Edmund Fitzgerald, on Lake Superior.” Everyone laughed, including me.
Chapter Four
Training was over and we were ready to tackle our first trip on Lake Superior. We had purchased kayaks of our own, but we opted to start with a guided trip. We signed up for a one-day paddle, with an adventure company from Rossport, a small town, nestled into a cove about two hours east of Thunder Bay. After dropping our son off at school, we headed back to Rossport. Our guide lived and worked in the area and was an expert on the quirks of this Great Lake. The plan was to kayak out to the lighthouse on Battle Island, a 9.3 km paddle from the Rossport Marina. This lighthouse was built in 1871, to guide boats through the dangerous rocks and currents of the area. It stood alone, unprotected against the full power of Lake Superior, with it’s unpredictable and relentless storms.
Early in the morning, we arrived at the Marina, where we were fitted with kayaks. Long, sleek seventeen-foot sea kayaks. “Hmm, these are longer than the kayaks that we bought,” I murmured. “I wonder why?” I shrugged, as my eyes roved over the sparkling water, little wavelets dancing on its surface. The lake looked like it went on forever, outlined by a jagged, rocky coastline, a few islands sprinkled randomly, here and there. It was a relatively calm morning, when we headed out, although, I was told that even on a tranquil day, you could feel the constant underswell. As we shoved off from shore, I experienced that deep, underlying swell—it left me with the uneasy feeling that things could change in the blink of an eye.
Chapter Five
We pushed off from shore and quickly fell into a steady paddling rhythm alongside our guide, who pointed out places of interest as we paddled. The kayaks ate up the kilometers as we smoothly glided into the dock at our destination, on time for lunch. We gathered our packs and started out along the winding path that led to the lighthouse. The path was like no other—moss covered the ground and the trees. Every branch had long beards of moss, dangling from it. It felt like we were walking through some fairy tale—so surreal. Along the way we passed an old truck, hidden beneath the undergrowth, like it was being reclaimed by nature. We trekked along this trail until we reached the gigantic rock outcrop, where the lighthouse towered over us.
You had to look way up to see the great light, that was blinking, despite the daylight. We were told by our guide that the night that the Edmund Fitzgerald sunk, the waves were high enough to smash the light in the lighthouse. I looked up in awe—it was fifty feet from water level to the top. Then my eyes scanned the calm water. I shivered—what if?
We sat by the shore for a while, enjoying a view that could take your breath away, but calm waters on Lake Superior are not to be wasted, so our guide directed us back to the kayaks. It was late afternoon—I was surprised that the lake was much more active than before. Small waves had started to form and the underswell had grown noticeably. Time to head back to Rossport, before wind and waves made it impossible. We headed back. Chased by ever growing waves, we made it back to shore, safely. Our first trip—a success. We left there the next day, wondering what adventures lay ahead.
The Wednesday Word – 4 Strength in Weakness
The power of wind and wave – Victoria 2025
Hi Everyone;
Here I am today on the road to becoming an author. Yikes! This is scary-very unfamiliar territory and the enemy is assailing me with doubt. Afterall, who am I to consider myself an author…someone like Max Lucado? By education, licensing and experience I am a Pharmacist. I’ve been that for nearly forty-eight years…piece of cake! No doubts at all.
But this is relatively new ground and suddenly fears and doubt surround me. I ponder- why? Ah…I wonder if that’s because my reason for writing books and blogs is to glorify my Lord. To announce to the world that God (and Jesus) are alive and active in my life and yours? I do this through all my storytelling, so Satan is on the attack.
Hallelujah! That must mean that I’m actually on the right track. So Satan, I am an author…so there! Get out of my way…flee, because the Lord is my strength.
Philippians 13:4 – I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.
The Wednesday Word – #2
Life is about changes
Hi Everyone;
Last week I shared the story of how I became an author…how God nudged me- hard, so that I couldn’t resist His request. If you recall, it took a major illness for me to pay attention and dedicate the time to do the task assigned to me. God can seem tough sometimes.
So…how about you? What is God asking you to do? Are you listening for and being obedient to that persistent urging in your heart and head? Are you listening to “Little Voice”, as I call the Spirit in my book: Disaster! Around the Bend.
When I think back on my life, I realize that there were many moments when a Little Voice would enter my head about doing something. Sometimes something so simple as calling a friend, or saying sorry for a mistake or for me to forgive my husband for not picking up his socks. And sometimes it was something life changing…like making a move. A move to a new place, a move to a new job, a move to a new church, a move to a new school…A move. I don’t think that many of us like change. Familiar is comfortable. Familiar seems safe, while change is scary…it often means action, uncomfortable action that can upset you and your family and possibly countless other people. But it appears that God is okay with change – even likes it, because it’s always an opportunity to learn something new…to grow. And it has been my experience that when God wants me to make a change, He persistently shows me through the events happening in my life and the lives of those around me. He subtly plants an idea in my head, then sometimes not-so-subtly allows events into my life that support that idea.
Here’s a story that shows this process.
Years ago, my family lived on a farm in Manitowaning. A lovely farm, with a large century barn, cute little house, forest and fields…just perfect! As the years went by and the family grew, it seemed to take more money to keep this farm going then my husband and I were able to make. I am a pharmacist and at that time in history, there were only part time jobs available on Manitoulin. Each week I would work a day in Little Current, a day in Gore Bay and often a day in Espanola, but nothing regular or fulltime. God planted the thought that I would have to look for off-island work. Yuk! I had a young family with 3 children under 12 and an active farm to run. How could I find the time to travel for work? My husband nudged. Reluctantly and grumpily I looked for work in Espanola which was only an hour away- there was none. What were we to do? We were broke. Suddenly a job was posted in Elliot Lake. It was a perfect job for the family – Monday to Friday, no nights, nor weekends. But it was a long, long, long way from Manitowaning. I said, “No.” God said, “Yes”. My husband encouraged me to go for an interview. I sighed and headed out. In Little Current I stopped to fill up the tank, but my debit card said, “insufficient funds”. Now what? I had $20 in my wallet- not enough. So, I swallowed my pride and went over to the store that I worked in and asked for an advance on my next pay cheque. I shuffled my feet, face beet red…he gave me the cheque. I ran off to the banking machine and put the cheque in and asked for a modest $40. Smiling I put out my hand to get the money…the machine blew me a raspberry and said, “insufficient funds.”
“What!” I kicked it. “I just fed you over $300 and you can’t spare me $40?” I hung my head and cried. “Why God?” That Little Voice whispered in my ear that He had this situation. I was assured that $20 would get me to Elliot Lake and back home again. I knew for sure, now, why I had to get this new job. I meekly went to the interview. I got the job and life changed.
I have learned over the years to listen for the voice of God…Little Voice. I don’t always obey…but I’m getting better as I age. Listen to Little Voice this week and see what God has in mind for you.
See you next week.
Lynn
The Wednesday Word – #1 Why did I decide to become an Author
The Wednesday Word
Living My Life with God in View
Hi Everyone;
Today, I’m going to start a weekly series of blogs called,
“The Wednesday Word”
In this blog, I will give you a peak inside my mind…a chance to get to know me. Gee, I hope you want to do that…if not, it’s okay.
Let’s start with the first big question, ‘Why did I decide to write?’ Why did I, a pharmacist start along this pathway? I certainly didn’t major in the arts, but in science, so I wasn’t exactly prepared for writing, in terms of education. But that didn’t seem to matter. I liked to read, but up until that point in my life, I never wrote anything, because that would require me to sit and sitting was something that I rarely did. In fact, the only reason that I started writing was because God nudged me to do so. I know that sounds weird, but I believe that God plays an active role in all our lives and part of that role is to nudge us to do things that He wants us to do. That nudge comes via “Little Voice” (aka Holy Spirit), His Word (the Bible) and Christian friends.
Somewhere along the path of my life, I learned to listen to Little Voice and to obey (just do it). Hence, my first book, Stuck on the Rocks, again evolved from that initial nudge. Oh, I didn’t enter this project willingly, no…I argued and fought with God about writing a book. Afterall, I was busy. I had a full time job as pharmacist, I was a young mother of 3 children and we lived on an active farm, with horses, sheep and goats. Oh, I had all the excuses necessary to say, “no” to God. But God is patient and He waited for me to make the right decision (which is ‘yes’). He waited, then allowed me to have a medical event, that put me off of work, unable to do any of my normal activities in the home or on the farm. Suddenly, I had time! Hmmmm, God opened up the time for me to do the task that He had assigned me. Rats! Excuses gone, I reluctantly sat down to write and found…much to my surprise, that I could do it and I even enjoyed it. God sent the words, brought back the memories and I wrote them down. That was my beginning as an author.
Writing stores is a precious gift that God has given me…to use for His glory, not just to amuse friends. Hence, all of my stories are reflections of my life-both fiction and non-fiction and all include the presence of God at work.
Next edition, I will share background stories of God’s intervention in my life-my journey and will connect the dots to the various books that I have written.
Join me on this journey…make comments…share your journey with me…I can’t wait to hear.
Until then…Lynn
Don’t forget…my latest book is now available. Disaster! Around the Bend and download your free copy of Donkey love, which is a prequel to Disaster! Around the Bend. I promise…the two books are connected, just read and see…haha.
