On my last full day in Spain I decided to once again square off against a physical foe that pretty much whipped my behind two years ago–Kayaking.

Booking another kayaking excursion wasn’t easy because it brought back memories of my recently deceased younger sister Nicole and our kayaking experience off the coast of Aruba two years ago. 

While vacationing at an Aruba resort Nicole won a Kayaking Adventure Tour for two in a raffle. Our older sister being the family resident sports authority, we knew absolutely nothing about kayaking. However, I am not sure if we both agreed to take on kayaking as the result of the thrill of getting something for free or if we were both harboring delusions that we were undercover kayakers. Perhaps a little of both.

Shrouded in ignorance off we went, two sisters on an kayaking adventure. After successfully completing our brief kayaking tutorial we were both places in a two person kayak. I was positioned as the captain in the back because I was the heavier of the two I was told. As we pulled away from the dock I yelled,

“Are you ready sista! Are we going to do this?”

“Ready sister!” she growled lifting her ore victoriously.

For about ten minutes we were both feeling pretty good about our recently acquired kayaking skills as we glided along the shoreline. Then three things happen at once, we followed our group further away from the shore out into deeper waters, the wind picked up as larger wave crashed against the side of our kayak, and we capsized. The kayak hit me on the head when it turned over. Still underwater and a bit dazed my first thoughts were, Oh My God, Nicole is not a real swimmer. I immediately resurfaced and began shouting her name. Nicole was hanging onto the side of the capsized kayak.

“Are you alright sister?” I asked.

“Are you alright sister?” Nicole shot back no worse for wear. I was pretty sure her question was a reaction to the mask of panic frozen on my face. I remembered nodding, but before I could say much more we were surrounded by the kayaks of the three instructors who were coming to our rescue.

“Ok you are the captain now,” one of the men said pointing to Nicole. “You sit in the front,” he said pointing at me. After some effort we were both back in the kayak seated in our new positions. We began to stroke for all of two minutes and then a wave hit, but in perfect synchronicity we both dived out of opposite sides before our kayak capsized.

“You are the problem,” the instructor announced this time pointing at me. Sure pick on the fat girl I thought..even though I wasn’t all that sure he was incorrect in his assessment. “You have no core strength and that is why you keep turning over.” He ordered another staff member out of his kayak and put Nicole in it. “You go by yourself.” Nicole was off and rapidly catching up to the rest of the group that seemed miles away.

After helping me back into the kayak the instructor positioned his kayak in front of mine, he pulled out of the water a long blue rope with a metal clip dangling at the end, and without a word he snapped the clip in place through the metal loop at the front of my kayak.

“You are with me now,” he said. I felt both relieved and defeated at the same time. Defeat because there was no coming back from being identified as the problem child and relieved because I was scared senseless when I realized that the group was now crossing the rough waters of the ocean and I did not want to capsize so far away from shore.

My new captain yell out directions that told me when to stroke, but mostly he told me not to. He was in control and I was just the passenger of the kayak being towed behind his. When I looked up Nicole was so far ahead of everybody, but she was heading away from the island as the wind and waves pulled her in the other direction.

“She is going the wrong way,” I told my captain.

“She needs to use her oar like a rudder to turn around,” my captain said.

“Use your rudder!” I called out trying to project my voice above the sounds of the wind and waves. “You are going the wrong way!”

“She can’t hear you, she is too far away,” my captain said.

“She is my sister, she WILL hear me,” I replied not waiting for his response. I called out to her again. Nicole stood her oar straight up into the water as her kayak turned about towards the island. My captain said nothing as he watched Nicole make her way to the island. Clearly he underestimated the connection between sisters.

My kayak was towed to the island and after awhile I gave up the pretense of using my oars. I was no longer on a kayak adventure I was a passenger why pretend otherwise. All the other members of our group watched from the beach as my kayak was towed in–how embarrassing is this I thought as I climbed out my kayak and walked ashore.
“You were so cute,” one of the women from our group said as I stood beside Nicole–I wanted to smack her. There was nothing cute about the fat lady being towed to shore. Of course I did not smack her, but polite smiled before turning away.

“Sister you were fantastic! You just took off and went,” I said. “How did you do that?”

“All I kept thinking was I got to get there, so I did,” she said. It turned out she was just as scared as I was of capsizing in the middle of the ocean. She used her fear to fuel her motivation to take off.

And take off she did that day. I was so proud of her. Nicole was always the sister who encouraged me to try new things despite what I weighed at the time (as I never remember her ever making referencing my size). She said nothing about the coup that took place led by captain instructor. In fact, we laughed about our capsizing experiences and retold an animated version of the story over and over to our family and friends.

Aruba 2013

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On Wednesday I walked back down Via Laietana to the Plaza d’Antonio Lopez to meet the people from Excursions Barcelona. When I arrived there was a solitary almost hippy looking sort of fellow sitting on the statue. This could be them or not I thought. I will just wait and see. I decided to find a shaded bench to sit on and work on my blog. I had planned to post the night before, but after posting on FB and writing my 3 latest TripAdvisor reviews I did not have the energy.

When I looked up 15 minutes later there were over 20 people surrounding the statue. Most of them were between the ages of 17-35. There were a few people sprinkled in over the age of 40 (me included). However, most of those people were accompanying their younger offspring and my quick visual assessment told me I was most likely the only solo African American in the group. Oh well isn’t that always the case, I thought. That is just the way I roll. I walked up to the group leader Dave and gave him my name.
It took Dave a moment to stop looking for Elaine on his list, but after I repeated my name a few more times–he finally got it and ticked my name off the list.
The bus ride to Costa Brava was about an hour and a half. No Internet meant I would continue working on my overdue blog post. Dave introduced some of the other members of his team Dana, JB and Lorenzo the bus driver. The ride seemed to pass quickly as catchy Latin music played.

When we reached the beach we were told that we would be divided into four groups. I did a quick change into my skin suit and made an attempt to join one of the first two groups leaving the beach. When the leader of the group I attached myself to did a head count he had six people. He needed four more. There was a group of five people waiting, so he asked “Are there any solos in this group?” I raised my hand. “Ok then you wait for the next group and I will take these five.” I step away feeling a bit peeved. Booted because I am solo.

A few minutes later Dave came bowling out of the office. “Ok the first 12 people who hit my pinky are with me.” I was going out with this group no matter what, I thought. I raced up to him and smacked his hand hard not sure if I touched his pinky or not. When we reached the beach everyone paired up with the exception of me and a young teen who was part of a group of three. He asked Dave if he could have a single kayak so he could remain with his friends. Dave turned to me and asked how I felt about going it alone. I told him I was good with that. The thought of capsizing with that young boy in the boat was not appealing. Besides, capsizing kayaks was a Blaine and Nicole thing and I wasn’t about to add on to those memories with a strange kid.

The single kayak felt more balanced than the one I remembered from Aruba. Or perhaps that was because I was 50 pounds lighter now than I was back then. It didn’t matter because I felt confident and I was going to make it despite the the waves, the wind and being on my own. The further I moved away from shore the more treacherous the water became. I wanted to look back, but somehow knew if I did–I would lose focus and that would be that. Self doubt started to creep around my resolve. I am not going to make it. I heard that voice in my head say. You are too fat and crazy to be doing this! What are you out here trying to prove anyway? Then I heard another voice.

“Come on Sister! You can do it Superstar,” Nicole’s voice came across so clear. I could hear her doing her imitation of Molly Shannon as she called me “Superstar.” I started to stroke with a new found determination thinking about my sister’s unwavering confidence in me.

“How’s it going?” Dave said as he moved up along the side of me.

“It’s going,” I said focusing on my strokes. “I am just trying to get there.” I heard myself repeating words my sister uttered two years ago.

“Well you are doing great! I am so proud of you,” Dave said. “Just watch your left side. You are fine on the right side, but you are not turning your oar so you are not moving enough water on your left side.” He demonstrated the correct technique before moving on to check on someone else.

When I finally made it to the snorkeling site Dave told me again how proud he was of me. “You were doing your thing out there…slow and steady.” I smile thinking. Yep I am a Taurus that is how we tackle most things in life. Slow and steady wins the race.

We swam and snorkeled for about an hour before heading out again. Going back in the direction that we arrived the wind and waves seemed more ominous. I found it very difficult to fight the elements as I worked to keep up with my group. I desperately tried to channel Nicole again while humming “I Believe I Could Fly,” I finally made it to the bend where I last saw my group. I was about to take a shortcut between two rocks when I heard a voice yell out
“NO!” JB came up along side me. “I have been watching you. Don’t go through the rocks, go around them.” I almost asked why, but I didn’t. I also didn’t tell JB that I came through those very same rock on the way to the snorkeling site. “Backup and we will go around.” I did what I was told. While following instructions I looked up to see that Dave had turned back to look for me and then the not so unthinkable happened… A wave hit my kayak pushing it into the rocks behind me while jerking me forward—I was in the water barely believing it happened to me again. The good news was..the kayak did not capsize on my head. The bad news was..I had no idea how to get back in that kayak. I was tired and I did not have enough strength to pull myself up out of the water and into it. That I knew for sure.

With the help of both Dave and JB I was back in the kayak. If I had to describe what it must have looked like I would imagine it was what it looks like when a beached whale is dragged back into the ocean from shore because it was pretty much the two of them doing all the work. I was an exhausted fish trying to get out of the water.
Back in my kayak JB stayed with me for a bit to give me additional pointers on how to deal with navigation while Dave went back to join our group. JB watched me for a bit as I worked to improve my stroke and then he told me I was good. I thanked him for his help.
“That is what we are here for,” he replied. “Are you having a good time?”

“The best!” I replied. “That’s all that matters.” He smiled and pointed me in the direction of my group.

With my confidence regained I kayaked solo until I reached them. Dave welcomed me back as he filled me in on what I missed which included a brief history about pirates.

A few of the other teams went into a cave while Dave shared with us the fine art of handling a cuttlefish. When the other groups exited my group went in. After our cave visit we rejoined Dave who had now moved on to cracking open a female cuttlefish in an effort to get us to taste it. I declined sharing that I like my sushi with a bit of rice, but several members of our group joined Dave in sampling the fish.

“Blaine,” Dave said teasingly as we headed back toward the beach for our late lunch. “No falling out of your kayak.

“Believe Dave I have no intentions of doing so,” I laughed. After our day, I didn’t think either one of us had the strength for a repeat performance.

All in all it was an amazing day. I met a physical challenge, I had a ball and for the first time in months memories of Nicole bought me strength and not sadness.
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The staff at Excursions Barcelona were knowledgeable, patient and just a lot of fun to be around. If you are visiting Barcelona and looking for a beach or land excursion I would highly recommend them.
http://excursionsbarcelona.com

From http://excursionsbarcelona.com

JB

 Dave