Despite the dicey rapids near Banbury Place, I loved taking people down that 45-minute stretch. Every companion experienced it a little differently. My brother Don could tell me every fishing hole along the way, what he caught, and what was biting on what bait. He knew the name of every tree, every plant, and every bird.
My friend Jeff was more of a novice, nervous about his lack of river experience. I assured him: “Even if we do nothing, we’ll still reach our destination.”
He was surprised at how easy it was. “You’re right,” he said. “This takes absolutely no talent — my kind of sport!”
One July evening, my wife Sarah and I left the kids at home for a quick sunset paddle. Unfortunately, in the one stretch that can be treacherous — the rapids near Banbury Place and the L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library — her kayak turned sideways, flipped, and dumped her into the water. She stood up, unharmed but soaked.
The water wasn’t even waist-high, so I was able to walk against the current back to her. What we faced was an improbable quagmire. Sarah’s kayak was partially submerged, with rushing water continuously filling it and pinning it against a boulder. With all that water inside, it might as well have been filled with cement — and the rushing water trapping it in place was far stronger than both of us combined. No matter how much we pushed, pulled, and heaved, it would not budge.
This leisurely sunset ride was now turning into a problem. “We can’t just leave it here,” I said.
“We can’t stay here in the dark, either,” Sarah said.
Growing more desperate the darker it got, I reamed on the thing with more and more adrenaline. Finally, a half-hour after Sarah capsized, we worked it free. The paddle was long gone downstream, and there was no way to lift the full kayak to empty the water. So I gave Sarah my kayak seat and rode the bow, pulling the sunken boat alongside us. We finally floated through downtown at twilight, with me perched on the front like a sentinel, amusing the night fishermen along the banks as we arrived at Phoenix Park. We spotted our paddle waiting for us near the shore. Finally on solid ground, we dumped the water out of the kayak by the light of the moon.
It was a memorable way to spend our anniversary.