Surfski Knowledge Base

Larry Goolsby
04/07/07 #2737

Reivers and I were going to blow off our typical Saturday morning
paddle in favor of crossing the border and joining forces with our
northern neighbors for a jaunt around Bowen Island. By mid-week, I
had even talked Heather into joining us. The whole event looked like
it was going to happen until I invited Shaun. Shaun is a great guy
and the world's best double's partner but whenever you get him to
commit to a road trip, he usually succeeds at altering the planned
chain of events. While I was at work on Friday night, little did I
know that Reivers was on his deathbed with an STD he picked up while
eating peanuts and watching an in-flight movie while returning from
Denver (don't ask me how you get an STD from peanuts). Meanwhile,
Shaun was convincing Heather that a trip north was going to be an all
day thing (which is correct) and the two of them decided that a long
paddle early on Saturday from Marine Park would be more fitting. By
the time I found out that my 3 comrades had deserted me, I started
getting really nervous about crossing the border by myself. The route
that we were going to take around Bowen would have had us crossing
the ferry lines on several occasions and the B.C. Ferries were known
to run over entire yacht clubs (seen it happen on TV). So I opted out
of the Bowen trip and joined forces at 8 am on Saturday with Heather
and Shaun.
The weather was great with an overcast sky and warm temps so we
headed west to circle Vendovi Island before going to Govornor's Point
and then returning home (19.5 miles). Shortly after leaving shore,
Shaun and Heather started talking and this went on non-stop for the
next 3 and 1/2 hours. They were gabbing like two teenage girls hopped
up on chocolate at their first sleepover. Every once in awhile I
couldn't tolerate the non-stop chatter so I would pull ahead to get
out of ear shot and then one of them would bring up some juicey
gossip and they would reel me back in. I now know more crap about
Brandon than even Brandon knows. This constant flow of girl talk was
making me a little nervous because Shaun is my doubles partner and I
thought I knew which way his gate swung when the wind was blowing.
Why just the day before this, we had paddled out to Eliza Island in
our double and Shaun 'accidently' made a movie of me peeing when he
was supposed to be photographing the vistas from the island. This
would make even the most macho hetero nervous. So the three of us
were paddling out to Vendovi and Shaun tells us that Vendovi is a
privately owned island that is watched by a caretaker because the
actual owners couldn't handle the chatter from kayakers that didn't
know how to shut up (go figure, I was about ready to go postal by
now). So as we rounded the island (which was posted 'No Trespassing'
every 50 feet), we decided to pull up to a secluded beach and make a
necessary pit stop. Heather was the first one to hit shore and head
for the woods and quickly located one of the spy cameras mounted on
the 'No trespassing' sign. In clear view of the camera, she dropped
her trousers and before she could pull them back up, we heard the
roar of the caretakers landing craft coming around the corner. He was
on us like stink on dog poo. Shaun and I were still standing in the
water when he arrived to point out that we were trespassing on a
private island and that we should continue on with our trip. Heather
and I started re-packing (what is there to repack on a ski?), but
before we knew it, Shaun had made small talk with 'Bill' the
caretaker and now Bill wanted to know if we would come up to the
house where they monitored the spy cameras and have a cup of coffee
with him and his missus. Shaun and I wanted to follow him back but
Heather declined the offer out of fear that we would get to see the
recorded video of her dropping her pants which tipped the caretaker
of our location and intentions. So we bid Bill farewell and continued
on towards Govornor's Point. The chatter never let up all the way
back to the mainland and each time I tried to pull away for some
peace and quiet, another tidbit of gossip would arise and I would be
sucked back into the vortex of girl talk. Despite the endless stream
of banter, this was the 'easiest' near 20 mile paddle that I had ever
done. For the first time ever, my ears hurt more than my butt.
Larry G.