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.