Okay, kayaks don't have keels. But no good pun should go unrendered after you've survived
being topsy-turvy in a body of water with a reputation for shipwrecks.
The autumn afternoon sky wavers between an anemic blue and pastel gray, and a delicate mist can't seem to make up its mind whether to stop or storm. Still, Trek & Trail outfitter Greg Sweval and I determinedly paddle our two-person kayak across swells just buoyant enough for fun. Here on the Apostle Islands seascape, we're headed for eerie sandstone caves that thrust dramatically into the water from the mainland near Bayfield, Wisconsin.
About 15 kayak-lengths into the russet caves, the waves turn raucous, and our fiberglass vessel bobs like a trinket. Living up to her name, Lake Superior rolls and slaps, clamors and echoes. She's determined to sculpt still more arches and pillars in this natural cathedral. We buck our way toward a forgiving arch and put the caves behind us.
Understandably, this mighty lake--the largest freshwater expanse in the world--has consumed myriad and legendary ships, steamers, and barges in the past 200 years. Greg, however, notes there have been no fatalities among the thousands of kayakers who come to the Apostle Islands each season.
Still, it's helpful to know that I was in that cave with a former Air Force Special Forces para-rescue man, who used to parachute into roiling water to save shipwreck
and other victims. "I pulled 28 missions--one similar to The Perfect Storm,
--Greg says, referring to the tragic true-story book and film. It's also a good time
to consider enrolling in Trek & Trail's kayak-safety course.
As we paddle close to shore, Greg agrees to give me a sampler class in wet
exits and rescues--a.k.a. capsizing--"and we can do it right now," he says. I shake
my head "no," for the moment. I'm just too chicken. But the opportunity gnaws at me as we
haul out on pebbly Meyers Beach. After all, when will I ever get another chance to practice
capsizing with someone who's actually jumped from a helicopter into a vicious sea to keep
people from drowning? "Greg, I've changed my mind," I tell him before he has time to spread
out our much-needed picnic lunch. "Let's do it."
Back in the kayak, we snap the spray skirts tight around the rims that enclose
our bodies and paddle a short way out in this water so loaded with personality. "I'll say
1-2-3 and roll us over-left side," Greg says from his back seat. "When we hit the
water, you tap the side of the kayak three times. That tells me you're okay. Then roll
under, pop the spray skirt, and push yourself out. I'll help you get back in."
