Up a Creek with no Canoe

This canoe trip has really come together in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, so we just need to count the bridges as we go along. We need to get off just past the third bridge.” Dad says as we are looking at his screen.

I could never have guessed we would be planning this trip just two days after it was brought up. It was just like any other day at Poppy and Nani’s house. Jack and I were farting about in the backyard.

“Did you guys take the canoe out after the truck broke down with it on top?”

“No. No we have not.”

“Hmm. That’s unfortunate.” I said as I approached it. “Let’s see the inside.”

We flipped it over and set it down. Instinctively, we sat down in the canoe.

“It seems to be functioning okay.”

“Yeah.” Jack said as he looked to be in depe thought. “You know, if you wanted, we could even take it out on the water. We just need something to transport it with.”

“True.”

“Would you like to do that today?” He asked.

“Probably not today, there are a lot of things we would need to prepare.” I said as my mind raced to think about what we would need.

“Okay.”

“I’ll talk to my Dad though, let’s see what he thinks.”

That was just a couple hours before, and we already have a route planned out.

“Yes, that does seem like a good route. How many hours do you think it will take?”

“Probably… around 2 or 3 hours.”

“That seems like a good stroll.” I say as I study the map. “Then, tomorrow we would need to get a length of buoyant rope, life jackets, a whistle, a bail bucket, and paddles.”

“Sound good, let’s do that then.”

After a rough night’s sleep, I jump out of bed, take a shower, and head downstairs.

Mom and Dad are just getting in from a round of shopping. I head out to the car to carry in the groceries.

“Yeah, it’s not really a big deal.” He says as he sits down at the kitchen table. “I’m just a little dizzy and my stomach’s a little upset, but it’s nothing some food can’t fix I think. But if it doesn’t get better, we might just have to go to Thames park or Grechton.”

“That’s all good Dad. We can go to the river next time if you’re not feeling well. You do deserve to rest on Father’s Day after all.”

“Ugh it’s so frustrating driving the sedan on the highway.” Mom says as she sits down with a kombucha. “People don’t yield, they’ve got nowhere nearly enough respect as when we’re in the SUV. It’s not just my imagination right?”

“No, yeah it’s definitely true. Just the other day, someone threw garbage at me from a pickup truck when I was driving the sedan. I don’t know if it’s the car or the fact that I’m Asian or what, but it happens.”

After I eat and start to prepare our snacks, I check in on him.

“How are you feeling Father?” I ask as I put down the anti-dizzying pills and a glass of water on the table.

“I’m feeling great, I just needed to eat.”

“Ah okay. Good.”

“Haha the situation feels so serious. It looks like you have to go no matter what honey.” My mom says with a laugh. I hurriedly massage Dad’s shoulders as he eats for a laugh.

“Ahhh, yes! My problems are all gone now for sure!” He says with a laugh.

We buy the paddles last minute because while Jack said he had paddles, he did not. We arrive at Poppy and Nani’s and ring the boat out front. We put pool noodles on the edges and hoist it up on the car. Using some dollar store winch straps we secure it tightly to the roof through the cabins.

Unlike last time with Jack’s Dad’s car, we open the doors first so we don’t need to egress and ingress through the windows, and use actual winches so we don’t need to hold it with our hands. I was able to figure out last time that putting a stick along the rope and twisting it made it monumentally tighter, but without that, it was a rough journey.

At one point, it almost blew off the top of the truck on the highway, which Jack’s Dad blocked with his hand, resulting in a big cut from the edge of the canoe, and our car swerving across the road into the shoulder.

“Zhit, if I had just one winch, it would be so much better.” He would say.

This time, we’ve got winches for the front, the back, and 2 for the middle. We have learned from our mistakes this time.

Just 2 hours after Mom has gotten her first dose of the COVID vaccine, she drives us to the access point. When we have reached the water, we set it down in the water, make sure we have everything, apply our sunscreen and bug spray, and set off on our adventure.

The water is quite calm down her near Bingeman’s. If the rest of the way is as calm, one could even bring a romantic interest here maybe. Though, I would maybe prefer a row boat rather than a canoe so we can face each other. For just a moment, I imagine Bomi is here with me. Just me and her out on the water.

As we paddle along, we pass by many different kinds of people. Some are shirtless on their floats, others are camping on shore.

“Huh. So this is canoeing huh? It doesn’t seem to be as exciting as I would’ve thought.” I call from the riverbank. “It doesn’t seem that different from when you went floating in that pond two years ago.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m sure this is just the beginning. We’ll see at the end of the day. Even if we don’t get a drop of water on us, it’s perfectly pleasant.

Our pleasant cruise is rudely interrupted by what could be our worst enemy. The shallows.

First it was a small bump, then many more bumps before we grind to a halt.

“I guess we need to get out.” I say. We hop out and push the boat until we’re out of the shallows. When the water is about knee deep, we get back into the boat.

A little further down the road, there are some locals playing in the river.

“Hey, guys.” I call to the kids as we are passing by. They don’t say anything by and only stare at us as hey splash on ahead. Rude little brats. Maybe they are mute.

I hear some splashing from behind as the boat sways from side to side, so I look back. Just as I do, I catch a glimpse of Dad suspended in the air just before he flies into the water like a flying squirrel.

“Oh zhit!!!!” One of the kids exclaim. “Are you okay man?”

“That guy just fell!”

Ah, so they are not mute. The locals laugh as Dad recovers from the water.

“Woah, Dad! Are you okay?” I ask as I stop the boat and scramble out. I cannot help but laugh in shock.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He says with a smile and a laugh. The water is only ankle deep, but he is thoroughly soaked from head to toe. I get the feeling that this canoe trip will not be as calm and pleasant as once thought.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, I’m okay.” He says as he rings out his hat and puts it on.

“Did you misjudge the speed on the boat?” I ask.

“Yeah haha.”

“Okay. We will stop the boat next time so please let us know.” I say as I push the boat along.

“Gotcha.” He says. We trudge along the shallows until the water seems to rise an appropriate amount.

One of the kids have the water up to their neck.

“Are you standing?” I ask. There is no answer. With a little more authority in my voice I ask again. “Are you standing up?”

“Yeah.” He says.

We climb back up on the boat and head off. Along the way, we stop for a bathroom break and each make a small contribution to the ecosystem of the river's conservative area.

We head off once more, but because we just emptied our tanks, the tanks need to be refilled. “There, up at the shallows coming up ahead, we’ll take a break to eat some snacks and hydrate.”

I don’t know how this happened, but I’ve become the skipper of our small but mighty vessel. I’ve been calling the shots on how to avoid the rocks and how we will approach the upcoming shallows, and thankfully, my crew mates have been cooperative. As we go along and our energy starts to get lower, our words get fewer and fewer, but our cooperation and teamwork is nearly perfect. I can even feel our boat go fast and slow because we are so in sync with our paddling. It’s like the heart of our boating beating.

I stand downstream with the tip of the boat between my legs as we all stand and consume our granola bars and drink our kombucha. I brought 9 granola bars of 3 kinds, 4 Choco Pies, and 3 European sausages. The air is silent as we fill up on our fuel and mentally prepare ourselves for the rest of the journey ahead.

I take a look at the map and see that we are near the airport.

“We’re near the airport.”

“Ah, okay. So we’re around 60% of the way there now.”

“Hmm. Still no second bridge though huh?”

“Yeah. The second and third bridge are about half the distance from each other than from the first bridge to the second bridge, but we’ll be seeing it quite soon.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

As we go along I use my polarized sunglasses to see beneath the surface of the water and look out for potential hazards like large rocks that will flip us over.

“Medium right.” I call out.

“Medium right.” Jack repeats as he steers. Our cooperation as team cannot be looked down upon.

After more repetitions of smooth sailing, scraping rocks, walking, and more paddling, we reach the second bridge.

“Oh look! The second bridge!” Dad exclaims.

“Great. Good work guys, we’re almost there!” I say. I want to be the best leader I can be, and I want to keep the morale of my crewmates high as we go along.

Around 45 minutes later, it seems like pretty smooth waters.

“There’s a large rock coming up on us, let’s try and avoid it.” I say. The right side is closer to us, but the left side has less signs of shallow water so it’s probably better if we can go fast enough.

“Sharp left!”

We turn our boat left, but as we do, I realize that I have messed up. Instead of going into the leftward pocket like I meant to, we drift sideways and are heading straight for a giant rock.

“Oh no!” I shout as I panic. I push on the rock with my paddle, and with that, I find myself neck-deep in water with all our belongings floating in the river and our boat filled to the brim. My left shoe is floating down the river.

I instinctively grab whatever I can. I corral the bailer, the rope, the whistle, and our food bag into my arms and assess the situation. Our canoe is pinned up against a rock sideways in both direction and roll by the water pressure, so that’s not great. Dad and Jack are standing up so they’re okay. Dad is holding my paddle and his paddle, as well as the boat. Jack seems to be frozen in shock.

“Let’s try and recover our boat.” I say as I take hold.

We try to lift the boat up to flip it upside down, but it doesn’t budge The weight of the water inside and the water pressure hold it trightly in place. I think for a moment.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do!” I call out. The rapids are quite loud. “We’re gonna pivot the boat sideways and lift it out upside down!”

We rotate the boat so that the bow is pointing down river and get it afloat again. I get in front of the boat and stop it from floating away. “Let’s bail out the water!” Jack says.

“How sad.” I say from atop the rock which sank us. “You’ve failed as a leader. You made a wrong and risky call at the expense of your teammates.”

I block it out.

I grab the bailer and start to scoop out water like crazy, but then I assess the station again. By my approximation this water is at least 5 gallons in volume, there’s no way this is efficient enough.

“Wait, okay. We’re gonna lift it up as we are turning the water out.” I say. We lift the boat up out of the water as we pour the after our, and this gets rids of all the water in the boat. We put it back in the water and I put the things back in.

As we get ready to climb aboard, Jack exclaims. “Oh no! I lost my paddle!”

We look around us and the paddle is really nowhere to be seen. We climb aboard and Dad gives his paddle to Jack. “I think I see the paddle up ahead!” I say.

“Make reparations for your mistake. You flipped the boat, you lost the paddle. Fix it.” I whisper from the rock. I jump out of the boat.

“I’m gonna swim to get it!” I say as I toss my other shoe, my hat, my ziplocked phone, and my sunglasses in.

I wade into the water hoping it will get deep enough to swim in, but no matter how far I go, it’s only knee-deep.

“It’s faster by boat!” Dad calls out. “Just get on, it’s okay!”

I’m only the leader of our boat because my teammates have enabled me to lead them. They’ve imbued their trust into me, and as such, I trust their judgement too.

I climb back on the boat, and row hard and fast to recover our lost items.

“I’m sorry guys, that was a bad call. Sorry for making us sink.”

“It’s okay man, we’ve got this.” Jack says as he rows.

“Yeah, son, it’s okay. You’re the only one between us who knows exactly what went wrong and how not to let that happen again, and that makes you our most valuable leader right now.”

“Thanks guys. Alright Jack. We stroke on one, reset on two.” I say to Jack.

“Okay.” He says.

“One! Two!”

We match our paddling to each other as I speed up the tempo. It’s a race against time to catch up to the items being carried away by the current.

“Imagien telling your girlfriend you're going on a romantic cruise and doing this course.” I say as I am paddling.

“Haha, she would not be my girlfriend anymore.”

“I see it!” I shout as we get close. I groan in disappointment. “Wait, that’s not it!” I say. It’s our stick which we used to anchor the boat in the shallows. “Let’s keep going!”

We turn around the bend and spot something else.

“On our 2!” Dad says. “Wait, no! On our 11!”

I look a little bit to the left.

It’s such a beautiful sight, like some kind of miracle. Jack’s water bottle, my shoe, and the paddle are all floating still on the water in a straight line, asking us, calling out for us to rescue them. Applause erupts from all members of our vessel and we recover them swiftly. Just as I pick up the paddle and pass it to Dad, I see it. It’s just a small corner of it, but it’s there for sure.

“THE THIRD BRIDGE!!!!!!!” I shout as I lift up my paddle and shake it in celebration. “YEAH!!!! We’re almost there guys let’s go!”

We paddle with purpose, aiming to finish our journey strong. As we approach the water, Mom waits for us on the shore.

As we are tying the canoe to the top of our 11-year-old 2010 Honda Civic sedan, mosquitoes bombard us with their hungry kisses. Thirsty little griches. So starved of love, and full of hate. Why wouldn’t they want to suck our blood? We are all wet and sweaty.

On the way home, Mom wistfully looks at the tip of the canoe peeking down in front of us. “I’m so proud of this car.” She says.

“Oh yeah?” Dad asks.

“Yeah. It’s a car that people discriminate against, but look at it now. Driving with a canoe on top of it with no problem.”

We get home, reveling in our tales of trial and glory. After showers are had, Mom makes us her special ramyeon and we each eat to our hearts’ content.

“You wanna stay the night Jack?” I ask.

“Sure, why not.” He says. “Thanks.”

When our digestion has taken a back seat, we make our way back to Poppy and Nani’s so Jack can grab some clothes and we can drop the boat off.

As we get ready for bed, Jack and I talk as we usually do.

“I don’t know man. I just really, really don’t want to mess this up. She’s very special to me.”

“Yeah man that’s understandable. You’re a good looking dude, and you’re crazy smart, there’s definitely nothing wrong with you. You just need to find the right person who appreciates who you are and what you bring to the table.”

“If only it was as easy as it sounded.” I say as I sigh. “What makes me the most… frustrated is that I can’t… control my feelings. I’m always in control of my feelings, it’s what I do, what I’m known for. Now here I am crushing on some… stranger who I used to know like some kind of child. It’s not like I have a chance with her. She lives in the USA for goodness sakes. I’m blinded by my feelings so it feels like an easy half-day drive, but even I know a drive that far is no easy feat.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely very stupid for having such a hope.” I say from across the living room. “Look at you. At the mercy of some woman. Craving for her attention, killing yourself over her love. You’re an addict. Just a pathetic, deprived junkie scrambling for the next fix. Just how different can you say that you are from those mosquitoes? Everyone knows that all you want to do is tap into her reserve of love and suck it out. Or maybe you just want to get to the that point of being squashed so that you can move on to the next life, even at the expense of your friendship. Do you really think it’s fair to force such an ultimatum on someone? To sacrifice their choice, or to sacrifice their friendship? Selfish. All caused by your motivation for your own closure.”

“You can do it man. You’re literally the smartest guy I know. Just trust yourself, trust your feelings and be open to where it can go.” Jack says.

I lie down on the couch and close my eyes. This was genuinely the most fun I have had in the longest time. Fun. I thought I was incapable of having fun, but I’m just full of surprises nowadays.

I let my mind wander as my consciousness drifts away. I wake up on the canoe in the middle of a hazy river. It’s kind of creepy, but it’s not bad. The fog starts to lift somewhat as the boat goes faster and faster. I panic and look for the paddle as I scramble to slow down. The paddle is sitting on the bottom of the canoe, but every time I try to grab it, my hand go right through it.

I hear the sound of rushing water as I try to move the water with my hands.

The boat tips over the edge of a waterfall and I plunge into the water. The current takes me deep, so deep that not even the sunlight can reach down here, and I can’t breath.

“So stupid!” I shout from inside the water. For some reason, this guy can walk normally. “Why are you so Stupid?!?! Are you really so incapable of controlling your own feelings?”

“Enough.” Someone says from behind me. The one in front of me is frozen, and suffocates to death. The one behind me steps forward, and it’s me. Another me, but his clothes are… shining. “In the name of Jesus Christ, begone you filth.” The one body of the suffocated one disappears.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“I’m you.” He says. He is smiling at me. I feel… warm. I feel like I can finally breath again after being choked for a long, long time. The water is gone, and I am now sitting in a garden. My clothes are dry, the sun is warm, and the air is full of… love.

Not the kind of feeling that makes your heart beat fast and your palms sweaty, but the kind that makes you feel that someone in this world cares about you.

“You can’t be. I don’t recognize you at all.”

“Well, I guess you’ve never seen me. I’m you, the one that everyone around you sees. I’m warm, I’m kind, and I’m encouraging. I’m the you that emulates Christ when helping the needy. You are so generous and understanding when you are helping other people, so why are you so stingy and critical of yourself?”

He reaches down and helps me up.

“Look.” He says as he brings me to the edge of the garden. We look over the fence where there is a vast field with puddles dispersed throughout and mountains surrounding us. They are not threatening mountains of imprisonment, but of protection. I know this feeling. It’s like when Dad was holding me when I was just a toddler. We walk out from the gate and take a walk.

“Recognize these?” He asks as we pass by the puddles.

“Hmm. I don’t know.”

“Each puddle is someone who you’ve got a connection to. A very human connection forged with the most basic human love we are capable of.”

“Huh. This many?”

“Yeah. You know they do, but you’ve been ignoring it. You’d flooded this valley with so much water of despair that you couldn’t see the puddles.”

“Wow. That’s cool.” I say.

I take a deep breath in through my nose. It smells like the sun and dry grass.

I take a look into all the puddles. I recognize some, but not some others.

“Which one is this one?” I ask. I don’t recognize this man.

“That’s the homeless man you bought a meal for some years ago.”

There’s a family I don’t recognize in another.

“And this one?”

“That’s the refugee family that you donated your first paychecks from every job to.”

“Huh. What about this one?”

It’s a dried up puddle with bare dirt.

“That one… was a lesson. A very important lesson.” The dirt hole has some paths leading into a couple more puddles that are full with water and there are flowers are growing from the sides of it. “It was a painful lesson, but through it all, it’s allowed you to open up space for even deeper connections.”

“Wow. That’s pretty cool.” I say as I study it. I see another dried up puddle that has just the slightest bit of water in it. The water is a different colour though. It’s more like a shining orange. “Huh.” I can feel who it is. “Bomi...” I say to myself.

“That’s right. Bomi. This was a connection that was pretty strong, but then was lost. Now it’s just starting to come back again.”

“Why is the water orange like that?”

“Beats me. It just means you feel you have some special connection. It’s rare to see such a small amount of water to turn colour like this, so it’s peculiar. It’s time to go back now. Come back any time.” He says. The world goes black as the ear-piercing sound of the Kombucha bottles rattling into the recycling truck wakes me up.

One thing is for sure. We need to get a canoe of our own.

I still have no reply from Bomi. It's like trying to float up a river without a canoe. I guess that’s okay. This sadness, this burning desire, the bitter pain of despair. For her, I can bear it all, I can smile through the pain if it means that I can hold her attention for just a moment. Hope is cruel, but without hope, nothing would happen.