Have you ever asked yourself “What would happen if a couple of lightweights were to drink rum runners and then try to paddle a kayak back to the boat at night?” Well I can spare you the mental gymnastics, because I personally know the answer to that question. I lived this very scenario on my recent Bahamas excursion.
We were on the dingy dock in Hopetown one fateful eve, having just finished a lovely dinner with friends at Captain Jacks. Our boat was anchored on the outside of the island in the main marked anchorage. Our crew of six, having arrived earlier that afternoon via a combination of kayak and dingy, now faced with the decision of who would ‘get’ to make the predictably wet ride back in the kayak. My son, Brandon, and my daughter’s boyfriend, Michael, volunteered for the job. In hind sight, I should have been a bit leery of their happiness in volunteering for such a wet ride, or just their “happiness” in general at that moment. Turns out those Bahamian rum runners pack more then just a light punch.
Soooo, the girls all hopped in the dingy and the boys set off in the kayak, and all was fine, until we rounded the corner of the inlet and headed out to the choppy water. I should mention that this is a river kayak, not a sea kayak, so it has no inherent buoyancy. As we motored alongside the kayak, I could see that they were taking on water over the side. I threw them the hand pump from the dingy and Michael pumped while Brandon paddled. They looked to be keeping her under control, and since it had started to rain, I headed off to find La Le Lu in the anchorage and drop off my passengers.
As the girls unloaded, I turned around hoping that there would be a blue kayak screaming up behind me. Nothing. Heading back in the direction where I left them, I heard voices alternating between laughing and yelling “help.” I saw a low blinking light nearby and getting closer to it, I was able to make out a bit of the blue kayak hull. In a scolding motherly tone, I yelled to them, “Stop messing around and get on over here.” Brandon replied “um mom, we sunk.” As I got closer I could see that Brandon and Michael were fully submerged in the water, doing their best to hold the nose of the kayak up to keep her from going under completely. In Brandon’s mouth, he held a flashlight that Michael was tapping with one hand – in a Morse code fashion, or so he says. Had I not seen that light, I don’t know that I would have been able to find them in the darkness and rain. While sorting out my conflicting feelings of relief, horror and amusement at the situation, I loaded them up in the dingy, and we pulled the kayak up-side-down and perpendicularly up over the bow of the dingy. That flashlight, even though it was no longer operational, earned a position of honor on the rest of the trip. It was dubbed the good luck charm.
