Profanity Alert.

Cousin, just go ahead and skip this entry or you might not believe me when I tell you I had fun.

Just so you know, they have the double red flags flying down on the beach that mean no swimming.

This afternoon, we brought the kayaks down to the beach. By “we brought” I mean my cousin and cousin-in-law (hereinafter CiL) brought them down while I supervised. Sherlock and CiL went out first. I’m very sad to say I missed most of sherlock’s ride, as I raced back into the condo to retrieve my camera, sunblock, and sunglasses. I’m told sherlock rode an excellent wave in to shore… backwards. He came up to the lounge chairs soaked and exhausted.

Then, it was my cousin’s turn and my turn.

I did so well! Despite the really rough water, I paddled out. Okay, I lie, first I got flipped and had to come back to shore to get back into the kayak. But then, I paddled pretty far out, beyond where the waves were breaking. I got out to the appropriate place waited for a break in the waves, and attempted to turn my kayak around so I could ride a wave back to shore.

Yeah, it didn’t work out quite like I planned. A wave flipped me. Somehow, the cord that keeps the paddle connected to the kayak (so you don’t lose one or the other, but both!) wrapped around me, essentially tying me to the kayak. Upside-down. Underwater. And I thought to myself, “hell no. This is not how I’m dying, tied to an upside down kayak.” I freed myself from the tangle and was so pleased to get a breath of air.

Then things got bad for me, very, very quickly. Seriously.

You hear on the news about people drowning, and you wonder how it can happen so fast. Well, here’s how. You get pelted with wave after wave after wave. And you’re swimming parallel-ish to shore, because you know that when caught in a strong current that instead of quite literally killing yourself by fighting the current you’re supposed to swim parallel to shore until you free yourself from the current, only what they don’t tell you is that sometimes the waves are so overpowering that swimming parallel is damn near impossible, and you just get tired.

After I freed myself from my kayak/paddle noose, and after another wave or two smacked me, I managed to swim to the kayak and capture it. I then spent several minutes trying to get back into the kayak, while the waves continued to smack me. My cousin, bless her heart, was trying to help me. She paddled over to me, only, somehow she ended up making a WB sandwich. My kayak was closest to shore, I was holding it, and my cousin was behind me. So, as wave after wave hit her, her kayak slammed into me, crushing me between the two kayaks. After the third or fourth sandwich, she was finally able to maneuver away so I wouldn’t die by bludgeoning!

Around about this time, a good Samaritan in a boat approached and hollered to us to see if we needed help. Both my cousin and I assured him we were fine and waved him off. I would have been mortified to have to be rescued at sea. Mortified. But, in retrospect, I really should have accepted his offer of help, because just a few more minutes later, I was done.

All this time, my cousin and I were trying to get me back to shore, but the current was not cooperating. A wave separated me from the kayak again, so my cousin paddled after it and regained control. I tried and tried and tried to swim toward the two kayaks. But I was just so tired. Seriously. I totally understand why people drown so quickly, because if I didn’t have a life jacket on, it would have been so simple to go under the water and not resurface. I just wanted to lie back and close my eyes.

I was tired.

By some miracle, I finally reached the kayak again and grabbed back onto it. The kayak was like a security blanket to me by then; if I could just hold onto it, it might catch a wave back to shore and I might not die out there.

I think my cousin was scared, too. She kept asking me how I was, and I kept saying, “fucking tired. I can do this, but I’m fucking tired.” That did not make her feel any better, and I’m certain she will affirm that I looked like I was drowning.

Meanwhile, I kept looking toward shore, hoping I would see my husband and CiL swimming out to save me. Yes, I was the damsel in distress and I wanted my men to save me.

My cousin said to me, “you’re not swallowing lots of salt water are you?” And I replied, “of course not! I won’t have room for vodka when I get back to shore!” She laughed. I’m sure it was a relief to her that I wasn’t drowning if I could still joke and be jonesing for a drink!

Somehow, with my cousin’s help, I made it back to a depth where I could finally stand. I was still getting pounded with waves, but at least I could stand. I lost control of the kayak again, but I didn’t care anymore. CiL and sherlock were wading out to me; CiL rescued the kayak while my husband helped me get back to shore. I was tired. Possibly more tired than I have ever been. And sore.

This is my right arm, the underside between my elbow and my shoulder:

It hurts. It’s about four inches long. I’m not sure which part of the battle inflicted this lovely bruise. I expect to find more bruises all over from when I was sandwiched between two kayaks. I have one coming in on one of my legs, and an inch long welt on my left wrist.

Kids, I was scared. Don’t get me wrong, kayaking was fun up to the point where I got into trouble. But once I got into trouble, trouble turned into big trouble so quickly. And I was sacred.

I think I’ll sleep well tonight, safe in my husband’s arms. ::insert eye roll here::

wRitErsbLock