Some time in early summer, I was out kayaking with Gracie and Tim. Gracie enjoys swimming around us as we kayak and gets in and out of the kayak when she's tired. Never a problem...usually a smooth transition. Until...
Gracie had just gotten back into my kayak. I wasn't paying much attention to her actions, but she was apparently fixated on something that drew her immediate attention. She jumped suddenly from the kayak and flipped us.
I was completely unprepared and before I knew it I was under water. Scared, confused, gasping, flailing, all I saw was a dark brown-grey color, comprehending only the rush. I did not feel the wetness against my skin, the water churning through my fingers as I grabbed at my surroundings, the pressure building in my chest as my lungs ached for oxygen, the chill of the earth so far below my feet, I felt nothing.
It took me a moment to respond. I started fighting to get to the surface of the water. I didn't even know how far down I was. My legs were tangled in the strap of my bag. I struggled and pushed and forced. When I finally got to the top of the water my kayak was above me blocking me from the surface and knocking me back down. Down into the dark, cloudy, cold nightmare that was finally flashing into my reality. I caught a quick breath before I went back under, filtering just enough life back into my system to fight back again. My second attempt I was successful in clearing the kayak. I caught my breath and searched around for Gracie.
By that time, Tim was beside me trying to help calm me so I could focus on staying afloat. In case you haven't figured it out...I didn't have my life jacket on. I spotted Gracie swimming close by, in circles, trying to understand what was happening, and trying to get to me. When I caught my breath, I started the swim to shore. It took what felt like years to get to there, to a place that seemed to get further and further from my reach. Finally, Gracie and I climbed the jagged rocky area and sat on the bank.
Taking in the moment, slowly coming to terms with what had just happened. We watched for a moment while Tim struggled to right my old kayak (that has no drain hole).
*Tip to those who may ever find themselves in this predicament - If the person you are with flips their kayak...paddle your kayak to them...it is the much wiser choice. Not only will you get to them quicker, you will a) not have to search for your kayak and paddle later, b) be able to use your kayak to guide them (and their kayak) to shore, c) will not literally be up shit creek without a paddle.*
He finally gave up and swam over to where we were. He stated he was going to try to find his kayak, use it to grab mine, then bring it to me. Gracie, of course, had to follow. I sat there for some time...waiting...thinking...still not fully grasping the fact I had almost died. After a bit of sitting there...staring at my kayak floating in the water, a group of men came through with a small motor boat that spotted my kayak. They seemed confused as to where it came from and looked to see if the owner might be near by, hopefully okay. I called out to them to say it was my kayak. They loaded it into their boat, and headed over to me. Once they got to me, they produced not only my kayak but Tim's paddle and...my water bottle. Now, this may seem a strange thing to be excited for. But, as I have explained to many people whom I'm sure share your confused look, this water bottle was sentimental to me. I purchased this water bottle at a store called Good Earth Market in Billings, MT many moons ago when I was out there on my traveling adventure. I've had this water bottle ever since. And thanks to these nice men, I still use it to this day. The fact that they found it and thought to pluck it out of the water amazes me. I dragged my kayak and the paddle up on land and thanked the kind gentlemen over and over before they were on their way.
Eventually I began walking the trail that would lead me to the opposite side of the lake (and the road). I was still in clear view of the paddle trail so I would know if Tim had returned. I eventually got to a spot where I saw Tim's kayak, but it was across the water, tangled in the swampy branches. I sat there and waited for Tim to come. Some time went by, and I looked up to see Tim and Gracie approaching with a canoe. After retrieving his kayak and paddling over to me, he explained he had sighted his kayak but could not get to it. He had decided to walk to our friend's house to use her kayak to paddle to his. On the way there, he was having a difficult time keeping Gracie next to him (since the leash was somewhere in the lake). He came upon a home that had a canoe in their side yard. He explained to the owners what had happened and they insisted he borrow their canoe for the rescue. He carried the canoe to the closest put-in spot and the rest is history. We've actually joked about this occasion many times, and have an acquaintance that scuba dives and does water rescue who has offered to search for my camera and cellphone that are swimming with the fishes somewhere in Lake Colby.
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