[Paddlewise] The Great Seyvelor Raft Incident

When spring rears its balmy head in the Pacific Northwest the waters throb 
with pleasure craft of all descriptions. The view from the tiderip off Point 
Defiance, Tacoma, WA, was filled with tug and barges, plain ol' tugs, pleasure 
yachts, sailboats, power boats, fishing boats, kayaks, sit on top *dugouts* and 
way, way in the distance an ungainly and slow moving craft I could as yet not 
discern its type.

My wife Gabrielle, my friend Brent and myself were playing in the rip made 
more entertaining by the boat wakes moving through. I kept an eye out for the 
unidentified craft and it finally dawned on me that when the paddles dip in the 
water simultaneously what we had headed our way was a raft...being rowed right 
smack into a rip with 1-3 foot waves and a wind against the 3 knot current.

The raft bowed and flexed side to side like kelp, betraying my wishful 
thinking that a crack team of whitewater paddlers was taking the day off our rivers 
and needing a peaceful float. No, what we had here was a crack team of Kmart 
shoppers that got a two-for-one on Seyvelor rafts. *Hey Brent, let's go talk to 
these guys and see what's happening!* I said.

Brent caught a nice wake and was there a few seconds quicker than I was. But 
I saw their eyes on board register *tilt* like Bugs and Daffy. Mom, Dad and 
the three daughters. Then I saw Brent's tow line come out. Mom and Dad wanted to 
go home, badly. The three girls in a second raft were tied onto the back of 
Mom and Dad's. All were under four or five...but they were at least smart 
enough to bring their PFD's. Mom and Dad must have left theirs in the car.

Dad's a muscly little dude in his cotton street shorts and straw fedora. Mom 
had that Chrissy Hyndes in her early career look with a distractingly pink 
bathing top and cotton street shorts. The girls looked like little rabbits with 
bright red Mae West PFD's dwarfing them. Between the five of them there were 
enough tattoos to make me think they were escaping Devil's Island.

*So we are towing Brent?*
*Yep.*

I raise my paddle vertically as a signal to my wife who sees it very quickly. 
A power boat on a plane is on a direct heading toward us. Things could get 
interesting. I flop over Brent's bow and clip on. The waves are now an honest 
three feet and the current seems to be accelerating over the predicted 3 knots 
along the rip. *Hey!* I yell to Gabrielle.

*I heard you. I'm waiting to be sure that boat is not going to hit us,* she 
said with a vertically extended middle finger tone in her voice. Powerboat 
veers away.

Dad's voice is squeaking as he asks if he can help out on the oars. I size up 
the yellow blades and interlocking blue shafts, fondly recalling my days at 
the neighborhood pool when all the chicks dug me for my Seyvelor. Those were 
the days I sighed to myself. I look at Dad and say No, just enjoy the ride. Mom 
and Dad are puckering hard, probably cursing the now apparent diaper shortage. 


*Ride sweep and yell out if any of the girls get launched into outer space,* 
I say to Gabrielle. Gabrielle is always impressed with my highly refined sense 
of diplomacy. She paddles by with a thousand yard stare directed my way until 
the delightful shreik of the girls catches her fancy.

We bucked through the waves and when my slack caught on to the real thing I 
feel my lower back crunch like the invisible hand of the Towing Demi-god 
reaching through my torso and squeezing a fistful of vertebra as a youngster would 
Playdo. I feel like I have a couple of office file cabinets on the line. 

The girls scream with roller coaster good times. I look back to see how Brent 
is doing. He smiles back. I can see Mom and Dad with a deathgrip on the 
gunnels. Gabrielle charms the girls.

Our train is over eighty feet long given the two rafts and two tow lines. I'm 
unimpressed by our speed as we ferry across the current and all I'm seeing 
are boats, boats and more boats headed our way. We catch the back side of the 
rip where it appears to be moving us toward Point Defiance now. A dog onshore 
barks and I know it won't be long. 

After ten minutes of sprinting our muscles are popping out of our drytops. 
Brent is wearing a drysuit. It might as well be one of those Sauna Suits from 
the Seventies. He is redder than the devil and just as sweaty. The waves 
disappear but the current is still cranking. In a bit, we get very close to shore on 
the north side of the point. The barking dog becomes more insistent but I 
ignore him.

We hit shallow water and *Sparky* makes a mad dash at me. Being seated at 
jugular level to him I flick half a paddle of water at him but he keeps barking, 
then backs off out of bad breath range. The owners look on the scene with all 
the enthusiasm of crack-den zombies. Sparky singles me out of the flotilla for 
his special wrath.

I slide out of my Nordkapp, first on the back deck then the legs in the 
water. Sparky cries out in his staccato bark, *CHARGE!* Head low he charges into my 
ankles with curled lips, white teeth and a linebackers attitude. I wish his 
owners had his gusto. I had unbuckled my towbelt and seeing the black and white 
flash at my feet I dance once and fling the towbelt at him. *Get the %$#_at_%&* 
outta here you mutt!* I yell. All adults on the beach, wife included, look 
disparagingly at me, then rush the girls out of the rafts. *Don't listen to that 
potty mouth man, they seem to say. I feel Sparky and I are now about the same 
height.

*Do you mind getting your dog out of here, or at least putting a leash on 
him?* I seemed to be waking the owners out of their stupor.

*Oh, he's fine he won't hurt you,* says She-Owner, barely tilting her head up 
to acknowledge me as she examines the rocks on the beach. 

Sparky takes advantage of my distraction and goes for the achilles. I wish I 
had my Toksook paddle with me. Its perfect symmetry tapering down to a 
hardened aluminum point would make the ideal harpoon. I could anchor him permanently 
into the gravel with such a paddle. Instead a take a half hearted swing at him 
with the Lendal. Mr. Potty Mouth doesn't want to be Mr. Potty Mouth the Pet 
Killer. 

Sparky is in complete control. He owns my emotions and my reactions to his 
poise and daring. She-Owner looks coldly at me and glowers, * It would help if 
you weren't so AARRRGHH!* I wasn't sure what AARRGHH! meant but I was 
suspicious it was an imitation of her impression of my impression of my masculinity. I 
walk over to He-Owner, flash my long gnarled finger in his face and said, 
*leash the dog and muzzle her.* His knees begin to cave and he goes pale.

My foe Sparky makes his best attempt yet. His greedy, black lips actually 
make contact. My foot arc's up but I miss my best shot, too. He-Owner actually 
runs him into She-Owner where Sparky's leash gets looped over his head. I know 
who wears the rolling pin in that family.

Mom and Dad now have the girls on shore and their little dilemna, for now, is 
solved. They say they are glad to be on shore. We all agree. Gabrielle 
suggests there are safer places to take a Seyvelor raft. Mom thumps Dad and says 
they will paddle a lake next time. I think Mom will have a little come to Jesus 
meeting with Dad, soon.

Dad says, *One minute we were close to shore and the next minute we were in 
the middle of the strait and I could do nothing to get out of it.* He says 
he'll walk the rafts up the shore to the park they launched from. 

We pass Sparky and the Owners as we head back to the takeout. I don't even 
turn my head at him so I don't get him going. He's schmoozing a a smaller dog 
and probably, in his own way, bragging of how he herded a kayaker all over the 
beach today! Ya, great fun Sparky.
***************************************************************************
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.
Submissions:     PaddleWise_at_PaddleWise.net
Subscriptions:   PaddleWise-request_at_PaddleWise.net
Website:         http://www.paddlewise.net/
***************************************************************************