As I went to bed last night, I was saddened to hear of the anticipated numbers of casualties among our city's firefighters. When we lose even two among the ranks of what the city knows as New York's Bravest, it is a catastrophe. To loss hundreds is unimaginable and weighs heavily on all our hearts. As I laid tossing like many millions of us probably did last night, I thought of the several groups of firemen I took out paddling a few years back as an extension of the public kayaking program of the Downtown Boathouse. For New Yorkers, there is something very special about our firemen especially for us raised in the catholic school system. In grammar school classrooms, the nuns would have us cross ourselves and say a prayer every time we heard the siren sound on a passing fire truck. Many of my classmates from my very Irish Catholic high school became firemen and cops. With the Downtown Boathouse free kayaking program, I saw a chance to pay them back for all that they do for us without hesitation at enormous risk to themselves. We were running some special trips anyway and one day a fireman and his wife came in to paddle in the free program within the embayment. They were both wearing FDNY T-shirts. I verified they were the real McCoy and invited him to round up buddies back at the firehouse (one up on the Upper Eastside of Manhattan) for a mid-week paddle to the Statue of Liberty. A week later I got a call from Patrick and we quickly setup a mid-week date when the currents would be right for an easy trip down with the ebb and back with the flood current. I then made a call for volunteers to help out. Strangely enough what I got were mostly women paddlers. I suspect this had more to do with the growing percentage of women in paddling and had nothing to do with the reputation of firemen being handsome hunks. :-) Only Patrick had done any paddling before, that one time in the embayment, but I had no hesitation to take firemen out on that open water. I felt they had a couple of things going for them, which all proved true in that first trip. First of all, I could count on them all to be in top physical shape, firemen always are. Next, I knew that nothing would panic them out on the water. If you face fire and smoke everyday, not much is going to scare you. I also knew they would be disciplined and listen to what I had to say and not run amok out there like other groups of ordinary civilians sometimes have. It didn't occur to me that they would also be a team, which they were; you could see that by training and instinct they were constantly watching out for each other, albeit kidding about Jack being slow or Tom being spastic looking in his paddling. That trip proved quite a challenge as did the following one. That first trip was one where I had to make a judgment call on weather conditions. There was a range of winds predicted. I took a guess of what it would actually be and loss. They turned out actually stronger than any of the predictions. So, we got to the Statue alright, but the winds from Brooklyn to the East picked up dramatically as we headed back. They were so strong that we had to hide in the shadow of Liberty Island and the Statue to gather our stamina for the paddle across open water to Ellis Island, much to the consternation of security forces on Liberty. They had their rifles out and were shooing us away. The firemen started kidding about getting arrested and what they would tell their captain for the night shift, which some of them had to get to. "Captain, this is Tom. I can't make duty tonight. I'm in a lockup at the Statue for kayaking too close!" We didn't get arrested but the way back was into 20-25 knot winds. Their discipline, teamwork and physical conditioning made it look easy. They thanked me and a few days later I got another call from Patrick. The guys had told tales about the trip and a bunch more wanted to come. "How many can you take, Ralph?" I set no limit and now we had a larger group yet. Some were bringing wives; I didn't mention this to my women paddler volunteers because I really needed them for the trip. :-) This trip was also, shall I say, eventful. Again, a weather call by me, working out the odds and losing a bit. A storm was scheduled to come in but it rushed in much earlier than anticipated even by the weathermen. This time we were caught by a brewing severe lightning storm. It didn't catch us out in the open; I had a fallback shelter in case anything were to go wrong. When the firemen saw my fallback, they could hardly contain their enthusiasm and I went up several notches as a guy they would follow anywhere. It was a marina with a large outdoor veranda bar! Immediately beer orders peppered the bartender so fast that his head noticeably swiveled. The firemen who were scheduled for duty that night went light on the beer but the others drank a few shall I say. Ordinarily, I do not condone drinking on a paddle break but I wasn't going to face up to these big Irishmen on this one! It was one of those storms that you could see beautifully played out in front of you. My VHF radio was chattering a play by play account, something quite unusual because it matched exactly the time and local geography it was reporting and anticipating. The major part of the storm was rolling over Staten Island, 6 miles or so to our south, headed straight for Brooklyn. A weaker storm was cutting to our north. We were in a torrential downpour but no immediate lightning. I didn't want to take a chance that either might suddenly turn roguishly to hit us if we dared cross back to Manhattan while they were in the area. The firemen didn't mind waiting. Even as the weather station was saying the storm was on its way out and I could see clearly its passage, a fireman would jump up and say "Hey, Ralph, I think I see some more lightning right over there!" So we lingered some more. We finally did get the show back on the road. As we put away the kayaks, some of them asked me "Ralph, what exciting thing do you have set for us next time?" I said simply "locust." Well there never was a next time. We had trouble figuring out a good next date. Patrick had rounded up more firemen from another firehouse to join guys from his. It was now well into October and the water too cold. So I said let's do it next year. But we lost touch and we never did get out again. The memory of paddling with these great bunch of guys in view of the twin towers makes the news of the loss of so many firemen in its rubble such a hard thing to take. ralph diaz -- ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Ralph Diaz . . . Folding Kayaker newsletter PO Box 0754, New York, NY 10024 Tel: 212-724-5069; E-mail: rdiaz_at_ix.netcom.com "Where's your sea kayak?"----"It's in the bag." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List - Any opinions or suggestions expressed here are solely those of the writer(s). You must assume the entire responsibility for reliance upon them. All postings copyright the author. 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