I can only hope she continues to work through her canoe trauma with Playmobil. Otherwise, we are going to have a very big therapy bill one day.
Anyway, it all started at the beginning of the summer when Greg took the kids canoeing. The lake was a little choppy, there was no adult to weigh down the front, and Mary was terrified of "flying" over the waves. It took coaxing, pleading, dragging, and praying to get her back in a canoe (twice!) in Door County. But she overcame her fear, and, except for the downpour in the middle of Sturgeon Bay, she had pretty good experiences.
First on the agenda last weekend in the Northwoods was some exploring of the Eagle River chain of 28 lakes. (It's the longest continuous chain of freshwater lakes in the world!) We stayed at the wonderful, fabulous, highly recommended Wild Eagle Lodge right on Duck Lake and Lynx Lake. So after Mom took a nap, Mary played in the sand, and Dad and David tooled around in a row boat...
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| Looking out from our balcony. Mary is on the left, playing in the water. Greg and David are in the row boat. |
It was a gorgeous afternoon for a canoe trip! We paddled around into little Lynx Lake.
Then we paddled into larger Otter Lake. Beautiful!
Greg and I were itching to explore some more lakes. But by this point the kids were getting really restless. I mean, how much fun is it, really, to sit on a soggy cushion in the middle of a canoe? So we turned around, paddling our way back to home base on Duck Lake.
Greg and I both saw it coming. When the super-sonic-ultra-turbo-charged fishing boat sped past at full throttle,* it was inevitable. Sure enough, our little canoe was caught in the gigantic wake, and we capsized.
(That is when our children's trust in their parents perished in the bottom of the lake.)
Oh, the ensuing fear and panic!
First off, we were totally fine. We were all wearing life jackets (it's good to be anal sometimes), so no one's head even went under water. Greg flipped the canoe back over, and put the kids back in. Because he'd flipped it by himself (like I could have been much help), it was full of water and riding low. But we weren't far from shore, so he simply towed the kids to a nearby dock.
Okay, back to the fear and panic! Our kids responded completely differently. Mary was calm, cool, and collected. She immediately looked around her, gathered up objects that were floating away (like the very important paddles that we probably would have lost without her) and obediently climbed into the boat, hanging onto the paddles without needing to be asked. (In addition, let's not forget that she was the only one with sense enough to wear a bathing suit.) On the other hand, David completely lost it--he was hysterical, hyperventilating, and screaming at the top of his lungs like a dying baby wolverine (which sounds like I-don't-know-what but I imagine it sounds like the terrible high-pitched cries that were coming from my son). Greg and I were begging him to BE QUIET. We were all fine, for heaven's sake! But he is the one who got us rescued. (More on that in a bit.)
Meanwhile, as Greg was towing the kids to shore, I swam out for an extra life vest that was floating away. I grabbed it and turned to swim to shore. This should not have been a difficult task, and it wasn't really, but a few things made swimming to shore harder than it should have been.
One, while I was indeed wearing a life jacket, being a weird shape and all right now, I hadn't gone to the trouble of adjusting it to a good fit or latching all the buckles. So it was all kind of tangled up around my neck. It was definitely helping me float--but it wasn't really helping me out with my swim strokes. Also, I was hanging onto that extra jacket that was getting all tangled up in everything too.
Second, my camera. I had managed to hang onto it. But it had been completely submerged. So I knew it had perished, along with my credibility as a parent (and I was very sad about losing both). But I was determined to save the memory card. I figured it wouldn't help my cause if the camera were submerged for a long time. At some point the water would seep in and corrupt the memory card, right? So I carried the camera between my teeth. Not very comfortable. It would have been more convenient to tie the camera to one of the fifty life jacket straps tangling me (or even better, feed the camera to the fish), but I couldn't bear to lose the pictures on the memory card.
Third, my flip-flops. I considered it a miracle from on high that my flip-flops were still on my feet after we went over. I loved those flip-flops, and I was determined not to lose them. Have you have tried swimming with flip-flops on your feet? Not easy. It slows you way down. But between the camera and the life jackets, I wasn't sure trying to get them off my feet and into my hands was the best idea, or even possible. So I just squeezed my toes and trudged along in the water, with my sandals dragging me back. I looked at my kids, who were shouting for me to hurry, and I could see their worried looks. I could even see a worried look on Greg's face. (My pregnant wife is stranded in the middle of the lake, and she's not making much progress towards us.) I should let the flip-flops go, I thought...for my family. For my husband. For my children. For my unborn child. I was starting to get tired (remember that my cardio-vascular system goes kaput when I'm pregnant), and it occurred to me I might drown out there all because I wouldn't let my flip-flops go...
But then I thought about how miserable I would be all weekend without my favorite flip-flops.** And then I thought about how it's now the off-season for buying flip-flops, and I very likely would not be able to find these particular flip-flops in my size until next spring. And, now that I'm all practically native, I would definitely be wearing flip-flops to Target until December, at least, and I would deeply regret abandoning this pair in Otter Lake. I just couldn't live without them!
And it came to be that I decided that I would rather drown than sacrifice my flip-flops to the fish.
(I would like to point out that I obviously did not drown. In fact, the prospect of life with my flip-flops was energizing, and I tapped into a well of energy that enabled me to swim the distance, sandals dangling and all. Plus, it helped that eventually the water was shallow enough that I could walk.)
At about this time a fancy ski boat, going very very slowly (thank you), pulled up alongside Greg and the kids (who had made it to a small private dock on the shore) and asked if we needed help. Greg admitted to the nice couple in the boat that it would be helpful if they could take his wife and kids back to the lodge, and he would paddle the canoe back. The caring man and woman kindly took three messy, dripping souls into their boat's beautiful leather interior. I have to admit, it's kind of embarrassing to be completely soaked and fully-clothed. And, I hate to admit, even more embarrassing when you have the belly the size of a great whale. What a sight we must have been. Fortunately, their boat went really fast (which the kids loved!), so we didn't have to hang out together for very long.
Now I must point out that we have David's blood-curdling screams to thank for the boat ride. The couple had been relaxing in their lake house when they heard the screams. They immediately jumped up, thinking someone was dying, grabbed the keys to the boat, and headed out onto the lake. Again, this is kind of embarrassing--that your kid was screaming that hysterically when he was not in any real danger. BUT it was really helpful to have that ride back to the lodge. AND their boat went really fast which made it one of the highlights of the weekend for David and Mary. SO I am deeply grateful to those kind-hearted folks who didn't hesitate for one second to lend a hand.
As far as the kids, we certainly did not start off the weekend well. This was one of their deepest fears come true. (And now they'll never believe us again.) But David, in his usual fashion, more or less brushed the whole thing off. He was excited to climb into a boat the very next day. And Mary, in her usual fashion, internalized the whole episode and is emotionally scarred. Hence the playing with the Playmobil boats. Best of all, they had a good story to tell in school on Monday. And isn't that the most important thing?
As far as my camera goes, it's dead, of course. Before we stripped out of our wet clothes, I took this picture of David and Mary...
Oh I'm sad about that camera. (It wasn't inexpensive. Worse still, I had an emotional attachment to it. But I did save the memory card.)
At least I have my flip-flops!
P.S. When my mom was five or six months pregnant with her last child, she capsized in a canoe too! What is with us?! It's like we're cursed. But I think I'll wait a few years to tell Mary about the curse.
* Stupids jerks. I had to wait a few days to write this post, otherwise it would have turned into nothing but a bitter rant. Even now, after my cooling off period, I'm still annoyed by the jerks in that boat. And they weren't the only ones. The lakes were filled with speeding fisherman, leaving kayaks and canoes floundering (and flipping) in their wakes. I even started thinking it must be perfectly acceptable by local customs to act that like--it seemed everyone with a motor was doing it! Is this state really chock full of jerks with powerful fishing boats? Perhaps there's an unwritten law that unmotorized watercraft stick to their lakes (because there are a fair amount of pristine Wisconsin lakes where motors are forbidden), and those with motors get to act however they want in "their" lakes?? But still, in what universe is it okay to whiz by AT FULL SPEED a canoe WITH SMALL CHILDREN less than 20 yards away, capsizing them in your gigantic fossil-fuel fed wake and then continue on as if there were not now because of you traumatized crying SMALL CHILDREN bobbing around boat-less in the middle of a lake?! Come to find out, there was some kind of amateur fishing contest going on that weekend--and apparently you have to speed around as fast as you can all day long from favorite fishing spot to favorite fishing spot or something like that. Call me crazy, but I still think common courtesy and the well-being of MY CHILDREN come before your muskie. Assholes. Fortunately, I can take a deep breath and think about the kind people who "rescued" us. I'm so grateful for them! They even had a few nasty looks regarding the speed demon fishermen. So, don't worry, there are still plenty (lots and lots!) of very nice people in Wisconsin. Phew.
**These are my favorite flip-flops ever. And, see? They don't have my size anymore. So, see? Definitely worth almost drowning to save them.
