Sea Kayaking Memories

by

Lee Chamberlain

The boats sit silently on their racks, the times when portage over marsh and ocean, river and stream gave solitude and calm to a wander and his soul. The nights spent under the heavens and landings at different beaches often making new discoveries of water and self. To some the idea of traversing the streams and rivers is one often spent in motorboats or by sail and yet the fondest memories are those cherished of treks and times spent both alone and with my son and friends.

The solace of thoughts and the revealations of self and soul, days beginings with bright sun and making sense of sometimes insane occurrences. Times spent with my son refresh the youth within me and realizing the celebration of being a father, his father. Times spent with students on my research project and too the new friends made when I did the trek in 1998. Today sitting quietly looking at the boats and the dreams that have been realized and the treasures made from times spent paddling. To some the treasure is riches but the value of my son's smile is far being made in dollars, but of quiet times when the seeing of sense of his accomplishment in handling his boat or perhaps the sometimes frivilous discussions heading down river. Rounding a bend the sight of wreck or a some new sight. Times when the deer pause and watch as we pass.

Too the times spent on the trek on a stretch of a sandbar waiting for the evening coffee after the day's distance is behind with more portage to make to the last stroke of the trek. The renewal in a night's sleep deep in a forest far from the lights of the city and far from the problems of so-called civilization. Going down the Roanoke in 1998 I had a "watcher" I nicknamed "Igor" for two days my companion and I traveled the river and often "Igor" was the heads up telling me of riffles and rapids, Igor by the way was a heron. The Swing sit on top used then, Carrying me to rendezvous with resupply and a boat change to the Sealion . Making time and distance and as well new friends. On to the Kerr once past Long Island Landing on the Staunton and then down to the Kerr and open lake territory, passing faram and hamlet. Stops to meet and discover new sights. Yet to a sea kayaker the once unknown now becomes the passage of memory and treasure of experience.