If ever you find yourself astride a Sea-Doo with a paddle in your hands there are two conclusions you will quickly discover for yourself:
- something has gone wrong
- A Sea-Doo makes a terrible kayak
It will occur in that order as well. No one in their right mind would set out from shore on a Sea-Doo with only the intentions of paddle-based propulsion. Obviously there is a story.
My boat was not working, but that is not the something gone wrong mentioned above, just a contributing factor to the situation. Regardless of no boat, I wanted to go fishing. I have two Sea-Doos. I have managed to catch fish from those Sea-Doos before. Perch while drifting along the shore and casting back is a fun way to spend a bit of time. Add a light-weight flyrod and it’s a pretty fun time. Last summer I decided to take it up a notch and fish for Pike, on a flyrod, from my Sea-Doo. It was a success, so, without a boat, I was determined to replicate the feat.
Flyrod, one gaudy Pike streamer (the Go Go Kershaw), and my hook extractors and I set off on my Sea-Doo to one of the good Pike spots, early Sunday morning (slowly, so as to not wake the neighbours). It was quiet. The water had just a ripple from the light hint of a breeze from the East by North-East. I motored to my spot, shut off the engine, spun around in my seat and began to cast. The water was still pretty stained from Spring run-off and a big wind the day before so finding the weed bed edge and the drop-off I like to fish was a bit of a guessing game. When 1/2 the casts were coming back with weeds, it was time to move out a bit towards deeper water, hopefully the edge. Push the Start button – “whir, whir, whir”, and that’s a slow “whir, whir, whir” sound. Low battery power. Not gonna start. See #1 above, something has gone wrong.
That’s an early- season type problem. Thought the battery was well charged. The answer is not.
Current time: approximately 7:15 am. Number of boats in sight: 0. Number of people in sight on their docks: 0. Distance to cabin: much to far to swim. I was closest to the north shore, but the hint of a breeze was now a light breeze. Enough to push me slowly, too much to kick paddle against. I estimated it would take about an hour to drift to the other side, where there is a boat launch, where I was most likely to find someone who could help. Positioning myself on the back of the Sea-Doo platform, I started to kick-paddle. The increase in speed was marginal. 370 kg of deadweight (the Sea-Doo, sitting low in the water, plus my own body for ballast, was quite a hunk of material to push with my lower legs waving up and down in the water in desperation. This was not going to be a story of success, but maybe a story of perseverance. If I could get to the other side, I could maybe get a boost, or a ride back to my cabin, grab the other Sea-Doo and tow this one back.
Ten minutes of kicking later and I glanced over my shoulder, hoping the objects on the far shoulder were much closer. They were not. Seemed I had hardly made a dent in the distance. But, like a shipwrecked island dweller, I started standing up and waving my arms. A boat! Perhaps I have been saved. I saw them change direction, in my direction, coming to help. Upon their arrival, the 3 generous souls and I went over my situation, talked about the Toronto Blue Jays (the driver was wearing a Blue Jays hat), the Montreal Expos (I was wearing that one), and a plan to get me part way there. With a rope tied to the front of the Sea-Doo, we were off.
The were gracious enough to tow me part of the way, past “the narrows”, after which I was offered a paddle, and the realization that a Sea-Doo makes a terrible Kayak.
I still had a significant distance. From the breakdown, to the tow release was about 1 km. I had another 2 km to go.
Between the tow release and the next island, my phone rang, a client with a semi-desperate need for some help, some troubleshooting.
A phone you say, why didn’t I call back to the cabin for someone to come get me? Because I was at the cabin alone. I came up here to fix the inoperable boat, still not operable, but that’s another post. I also knew all the neighbours that I had the cell numbers for were not at the lake this weekend.
So my only form of thrust was paddle, on the very bad substitute for a kayak. Needless to say, the response to my client, and the help they needed, was going to be delayed.
So paddle I did. I learned, through experience that 2 strokes on the left, then 2 strokes on the right, was the proper cadence. Any more and the Sea-Doo-turned-kayak would spin too far on direction. 1 stroke was too much time spent changing sides. 2 was the optimum, in the sub-optimum setting. The total paddling travel time was likely somewhere in the 1-1/2 to 1-3/4 hours. A bad day not to wear my FitBit.
About two-thirds of the way through my return travels that morning, I spotted a group of 3 kayakers emerging from the north bay of the lake. Their double-ended paddles propelling them rapidly, and efficiently forward. That looked like a nice way to spend a Sunday morning at the lake. A Sea-Doo Makes a Terrible Kayak.