I was meeting some friends past the shipping yards at the foot of Cherry Street, at the city park called Clark Beach—better known as Cherry Beach. We were headed a few kilometres around the point to explore the shoreline and inner canals of the Toronto Islands.
Getting boats, paddles and gear organized down at the water, I was pleased, and surprised, to see another group of paddlers out for a cruise on a cool autumn mid-week afternoon. They were floating just offshore in two fully rigged, 17-foot-long glass sea kayaks. I waved a big hello.
They just paddled away.
My knee-jerk reaction was the same as you might have being cut off in traffic. But I didn’t gesture. I didn’t see the point. However, it bothers me to this day, and I often ponder their reasons for clearly snubbing my friendly wave. Maybe it was because I was launching a 12-foot recreational touring kayak. I wonder if I’d had a “proper” sea kayak if I’d have garnered more respect, worthy of the effort to raise one’s Royal arm and wobble it to acknowledge my presence.
It’s a common practice to say hello to fellow enthusiasts. Automobile legend has it that on June 30, 1953, owner of Corvette number 00001 met driver of Corvette 00002 and they saluted each other with waves, starting a much-cherished tradition that lives on with Corvette drivers today.
Bikers have their own secret handshake to other riders. An article on the website of the Miami Chapter 694 HOG (Harley Owner’s Group) tells us that the wave varies with riders of different makes of motorcycles:
“Harley riders lower their hand to their side and point the index figure to the ground. BMW riders barely lift their hand from the handlebar. And Honda riders, that friendly bunch, give an outright wave almost like a high five, when they pass each other.”
I’m definitely a Honda rider, or at least that’s the wave I gave to those paddlers at Cherry Beach. Did I give the wrong wave? Maybe my Honda wave is not the one “real” kayakers use. I didn’t think to try anything different. How could there be a wrong wave in a community so small as sea kayaking, even in the big city of Toronto.
Are all paddlers not part of one big happy family; in the same boat, so to speak? Aren’t we paddling for the same reasons and affected by the same things: wind, weather, sea conditions? Why wouldn’t we wave to a fellow paddler, another like-minded enthusiast, the first person who’d loan you a tie-down strap, offer a look at his chart, toss you a Snickers bar or share a GPS reading?
We should be waving to acknowledge that we share the same passion, and in this case waving to say hello, great to see you on the water, enjoy your day. We should be waving to one another no matter what size or brand of kayak each of us are paddling.
It won’t take many kayakers for the wave to catch on. Since shooting to fame during the 1986 World Cup in Mexico, the Mexican wave phenomenon has circumnavigated stadiums around the world, 15 rows at a time. Researchers have found that it only takes a couple dozen like-minded sports fans to bring 50,000 people to their feet.
Instead of flipping the bird, I’m looking for 23 friends to paddle the shores of Lake Ontario, just west of downtown Toronto. We’ll get those two snotty paddlers to throw their arms in the air.
This article was first published in the Spring 2004 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine.
