72 hours. That’s the longest I’ve been pinned down on shore, waiting for a break in the weather. Back on those wind-lashed cobblestones, three days felt like an eternity.
When I was guiding sea kayaking trips full-time, one of my most inspiring—and exasperating—clients was a septuagenarian from Germany named Max. Athletic and high-strung, he was not in the habit of waiting for anyone or anything. Our weeklong trip together was plagued by high winds and we were often driven ashore miles short of our planned camp, waiting for safer conditions.
Max grew restless as soon as we’d hit shore. Pacing the beach, heedless of the foaming seas, his eyes fixated on some distant headland. “We’re going now?” he’d ask before long, the words sounding more like a command than a question.
At my earlier suggestion, the other members of our group had already set up their tents and immersed themselves in books or beachcombing. But Max’s Feathercraft—purchased especially for this trip—remained at the water’s edge, fully packed and ready to launch.
Worried he might make a solo break for it, I tried reasoning with him. Max was a retired engineer, so I assured rationally, “The forecast is for lighter winds tomorrow—it won’t be any trouble to make up lost miles.” When that failed, I appealed to his inquisitive nature, “The map indicates a waterfall on this creek…why don’t you hike up and try to find it?” Nothing. I tried empathy, “You’re a strong paddler Max—I know you could handle these waves but we must wait until it’s safe for the entire group.”
Still, Max moped around our island like a prisoner. Finally, I could take no more. “Max!” I pressed him, “What’s the hurry?”
That’s when I learned that my elderly German guest, having literally waited a lifetime to paddle in the Canadian wilds, was not interested in waiting a moment longer. “One third of life is sleeping and one fifth is waiting,” he said by way of explanation. With Max, some things got lost in translation. But I understood his meaning perfectly—he simply couldn’t afford to squander the rest.
I waited seven years to road trip to British Columbia with my kayak (a trip that yielded the itinerary in “Hit the Road,” page 64 of this issue). If there’s one regret I have about those two blissful months of exploring, it’s that I didn’t do it sooner.
For this special issue of Adventure Kayak, we asked correspondents, friends and readers what adventures and experiences top their life lists. Then we took all those inspiring plans and aspirations and packed as many as we could into a single year. Because why wait a lifetime to live your dreams?
When she’s not waiting for next issue’s drafts, Adventure Kayak editor Virginia Marshall lives her dreams one paddle stroke at a time.
This article originally appeared in Adventure Kayak, Spring 2013. Download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read the rest of the issue here for free.
