Whitewater Rendezvous

by Kim Baldwin

  “No problem!” Pat replied, openly leering at Linda, which got all of them chuckling. The couple immediately donned their spray skirts and PFDs and headed for their kayaks, while Chaz turned her attention to Justine and Yancey.

  “You two can paddle around until lunch. This afternoon, I’ll spend an hour or so with each of you one-on-one, going over how to roll.”

  “Cool beans,” Yancey said.

  “I may need more than an hour,” Justine said. “I had a hard time getting the hang of it, as I recall. Everything seems so ass-backwards when you’re upside down.”

  “Whatever time you need,” Chaz replied. “It’s not imperative that you can do one, but it’s always a good skill to have under your belt.” She turned to Megan and Elise. “Now if you two would put on your spray skirts and get into your boats, I’ll teach you how to do a wet exit.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Elise said, cocking one eyebrow suggestively in Chaz’s direction.

  Chaz laughed, a low ripple of pleasure. “Not very. Not in this water.”

  Megan squeezed into her neoprene spray skirt without comment, trying to ignore the obvious flirtation between the two. So maybe she’s not with that other guide. Or maybe she’s just with anyone and everyone.

  Once they were in their kayaks, Chaz went to sit on the back of Elise’s boat, straddling it so that she was seated just behind Elise.

  “Now this is cozy,” Elise commented, looking back over her shoulder at Chaz before the guide had a chance to say anything.

  Megan saw Chaz blush; a faint trace of rose blossomed on her cheeks. “To attach your spray skirt,” the guide said, all businesslike despite the smile on her face, “first you lean back slightly…”

  Elise, smiling broader now, leaned back until she rested right up again Chaz’s chest.

  Chaz laughed and her blush deepened. “I said slightly, Elise. Only enough so that the back of your skirt will hook around the edge of the cockpit.”

  “Spoilsport,” Elise groused under her breath as she sat up.

  “These fit so tight that it’s easier at first if someone helps you and holds the back down,” Chaz positioned the spray skirt over the curled rear rim of the cockpit, “while you lean forward and attach the front.”

  Elise did as instructed and stretched the front of the skirt over the leading edge of the cockpit until it snapped into place.

  “Great.” Chaz stood. “After a while, you’ll be able to do it without help.”

  “I sure hope not,” Elise said suggestively, eliciting another smile from the guide.

  Well, Elise, just throw yourself at her right now, why don’t you? Megan’s irritation grew with each exchange between the two. She didn’t know why she was getting pissed off. She’d certainly seen Elise in action when they’d cruised the bars together.

  “Next?” Chaz said, stepping toward Megan’s boat.

  “I can probably do it myself,” Megan said quickly, hooking the skirt around the back of her cockpit. Her tone of voice warned Chaz away, and the guide froze, watching her.

  But when Megan sat forward to attach the front, the back popped out. She tried again, with the same result. And then again, and again, her frustration growing with each effort.

  Before she knew what was happening, Chaz was seated behind her on the kayak.

  “Like I said, it’s easier at first with some help,” the guide said gently, fastening the skirt into the rim and anchoring the back firmly in place with her hands. “Now get the front. Lean forward.”

  As soon as Megan snapped it into place, Chaz stood and stepped away. Megan felt the sudden absence of the body behind her, though they hadn’t touched.

  “If you happen to capsize and can’t do an Eskimo roll to right yourself, you’ll need to do a wet exit,” Chaz explained, glancing between Elise and Megan. “First, you grab the loop there on the front of your skirt and give it a tug. That releases the skirt. Then you relax, put your hands on the side of your cockpit, and slide your legs out. It’s kind of like taking off a pair of pants.”

  “Now that I can visualize,” Elise said.

  Megan could, too. All too well, in fact.

  Chaz continued without pause, suppressing a grin. “You’ll actually do a kind of half somersault to get out of the boat, but it won’t really feel like that under water. It’s pretty easy. You just need to stay calm and focused. That cold water will be a big shock when you go over.” She looked out across the water. “This creek is very slow, so you should have an easy time of it today. I want to also practice wet exits once we’re on the river, so you won’t panic if you capsize in the rougher water. If you turn over in water over your head, get out, grab your boat—and your paddle, if possible—and try to push toward shore.”

  Chaz reached into a small pack she had brought with her and pulled out two nose plugs. “I recommend these when you’re starting out.” She tossed one to each woman and they put them on. “Who’s first?”

  “I’ll go!” Elise volunteered.

  Megan watched as Chaz pushed Elise’s boat out into the water, wading out with it until the water came up to her chest.

  “Any time you’re ready,” Chaz told Elise. “Just relax, and lean over to one side until you go over.”

  Elise took a deep breath and held it, closed her eyes, and with one hand on the release loop of her spray skirt, turned over. She broke the surface an arm’s length from Chaz a few seconds later, gasping for air. “Damn! That’s ice water!”

  Yancey and Justine, watching from their kayaks a short distance away, broke out laughing.

  Chaz tried a little better to hide her amusement. “Told you it wouldn’t be much fun. Nicely done, though.” She made Elise do it twice more before she let her go inside to dry off and get warm. Then she turned in Megan’s direction. “Ready for your turn?”

  “I guess,” she answered, with no conviction in her voice.

  Megan would never admit it aloud, but the whole kayaking element of this trip scared the hell out of her. She hadn’t really faced up to that fact until this moment. You don’t know anything at all about boats and currents. And the water is frickin’ cold as hell, and the only swimming you do is in the heated pool at the gym.

  Chaz waded in and towed Megan’s boat out into the creek as she had Elise’s, until the water was deep enough to do the maneuver safely. “There’s a sandy bottom here,” she said as they got into position. She looked directly into Megan’s eyes then. “No reason to be nervous. Just relax, and you’ll be back up before you know it.”

  “I’m not nervous,” Megan lied. Don’t think about it, just do it. But she hesitated, staring at the icy water. She started to hyperventilate. Her mind was screaming instructions, but her body wasn’t listening.

  Chaz’s patient expression held no challenge, only encouragement. “You can do it, Megan,” she said in a soft voice.

  Damn right I can, Megan thought, her eyes glued on Chaz until the very last second. She closed them as she leaned left and sucked in a deep breath right before she went under. She popped the skirt and before she knew it, she was out of the boat and back on the surface, Chaz’s firm grip on her arm orienting her upright. She touched bottom and Chaz released her.

  “See? Cold, but not so bad, eh?” Chaz was only a foot away, smiling that damn charm-your-socks-off smile again.

  Much as she wanted to resist it, Megan was finding it harder by the moment. “Not so bad,” she agreed.

  *

  After lunch, it was time to learn to Eskimo roll—combining leverage from your paddle with a strong hip snap to right yourself after capsizing. Chaz went through the steps on land; then she got into one of the kayaks and demonstrated the maneuver. Megan found the display something akin to a nautical ballet.

  On the water, Chaz was all fluid muscle, the kayak a part of her, every movement graceful and efficient. The blades of her paddle sliced cleanly into the water with no splash and no sound. Once she got in position, she went over with a wink and a smile, lik
e this was one of her secret pleasures. And when she came up again, easily, gracefully, shaking water from her dark hair, her face pink from the cold, Megan thought she looked beautifully at one with her surroundings. Wild. Primitive. Larger than life.

  After a couple more rolls to break down the process into steps that they could visualize, Chaz paddled in, and they all took to their kayaks for their individual lessons.

  Megan was up last, but she stayed close by so she could watch the others. She paddled around in the shallow water, getting used to the boat and practicing the strokes that Chaz had taught them that morning. For the first several minutes, she felt awkward and uncoordinated, but she gained confidence quickly and began to get the hang of it.

  From a distance, learning to roll didn’t seem that intimidating. Not at first. Chaz had made it look easy, and Yancey got it right away, rolling her kayak back upright on the first try with little apparent effort, a big smile on her face. But Justine struggled for a half hour to get it right, cursing loudly every time she couldn’t manage to turn her kayak back over and had to rely on Chaz to do it for her. Freezing and exhausted by the time she was finally able to master the maneuver, she limped back up toward the lodge shaking her head.

  Elise fared no better. Megan actually counted this time, recording each unsuccessful effort. She wanted to learn the technique faster than Elise, though she didn’t bother to imagine why. It took Elise eleven tries to do it right. Surely I can do it faster than that. I’m an athlete. I play tennis. Golf. Racquetball. Those all take good coordination.

  When Chaz hailed her over for her turn, Megan felt both fear and determination in equal measure.

  Chaz was beginning to feel the cold despite her wet suit. Please do well, she thought to herself as the bright yellow boat came nearer. She wanted Megan to catch on quickly to rolling, and not just because that meant they would both be able to get out of the water and get warm. She knew, somehow, that Megan was afraid of all this—of tipping over, of learning to roll, maybe even of kayaking altogether. Chaz had seen it in her eyes that morning, and she wanted to help her get past her fear so she’d enjoy the trip ahead.

  Standing next to the boat, one hand on the forward carrying toggle, she went briefly back over the fundamentals: how Megan should hold the paddle, how she should distribute her weight. When she should begin the hip snap and sweep that would turn her upright again.

  They were close together, concentrating intently on each other, all businesslike but breaths apart, when Chaz first felt the sparks begin to fly. It was entirely unexpected. One minute, she was assessing with cool detachment her client’s readiness to try the roll for the first time. Good grip, good hip snap, hands the right distance apart. She seems nervous, but that’s normal. The next, without warning, she was suddenly fixated on how soft and silky Megan’s hair looked. And how the sun caught the blond highlights. And how could she not have noticed before that Megan’s eyes were an uncommon shade of green. That vibrant, iridescent green of early spring. And she has the most incredibly long eyelashes.

  Chaz realized she was staring. And Megan was staring back, a smirk creeping outward from the corner of her mouth. Oh, shit. Busted. Don’t ogle the clients, idiot. She quickly averted her eyes and cleared her throat, trying not to blush.

  “Ready?” she asked, letting go of the paddle and putting some distance between them, taking up position at the front of the kayak.

  She glanced at Megan. The smirk was gone, replaced by a look of grim determination. Megan nodded, her eyes glued to Chaz. She put on her nose clip and gripped her paddle firmly, took a deep breath, leaned left, and flipped over.

  After a few seconds, there was a big splash as one blade of Megan’s paddle clumsily broke the surface at an odd angle, then disappeared again. Chaz could see her flailing away under there, and her heart began to beat faster as the seconds ticked by. She kept a firm grip on the boat, ready to turn it back over, waiting anxiously for the sign of distress she had taught them all. Too long, she thought, a millisecond before she felt them through her fingertips and heard them vaguely, muted by the water—the three raps on the hull of the kayak that said I need help!

  She flipped the boat over, and Megan came up sputtering, shaking the cold water from her hair and gasping for air. “Damn it!” she cursed. “Everything is so turned around down there, I couldn’t get oriented. It all seemed backwards.”

  “That was only your first try. You’ll get it,” Chaz said in a soothing voice. She waded a step closer and looked into Megan’s eyes. “You can’t think about it too hard. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it is hard to orient yourself when you’re upside down. It’s better to memorize the action that you need to do and let your body—not your mind—take over.” She held out one hand, the other on the kayak so it wouldn’t drift. “Let me have your paddle.”

  Megan gave it to her with a confused expression.

  Chaz oriented herself so the paddle was laid on the surface of the water between them, parallel to the boat. “I want you to go over again…leaning away from me. When you get upside down, reach up on this side for the paddle. I’ll be holding it in the right position, and I’ll help you get yourself back up, so you can see what it should feel like.”

  Megan looked like she was about to object, but she nodded reluctantly, took several deep breaths, and then went over. It was only a moment before Chaz could see her hands just beneath the surface, groping for the shaft of the paddle. Chaz clamped her hand around Megan’s forearm and led it to the paddle. As Megan began to pull herself up, Chaz helped her, twisting the paddle and pulling up on it until the kayak had righted itself.

  Megan sucked in air, her face pink from the cold, hair plastered to her head. “Shit, that’s cold.”

  “That wasn’t bad at all,” Chaz said, trying not to stare at the rapid rise and fall of Megan’s chest, only a couple of feet away and at eye level at the moment. “Did it feel better that time?”

  “No! I don’t know.” Megan’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe a little.” She blew out a breath. “This is really hard.”

  “You have pretty high expectations of yourself, don’t you?” There was no malice or rancor to Chaz’s question, that was obvious in her tone, but Megan visibly bristled anyway.

  “I usually catch on to things pretty quickly,” she snapped. “And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with expecting the best from yourself.”

  “I didn’t say there was. I just meant that I don’t think you can…or should expect to be able to do this on the first try. It’s a very tough maneuver.”

  “I think that I’m the only one capable of knowing what I’m capable of… doing.” Megan looked a little flustered as she said this, as if she wasn’t entirely sure that what she’d just said made sense. “Anyway, I want to try it again.”

  Stubborn one, aren’t you? Chaz felt a guilty stab of pleasure at seeing her off balance. “Great. Are you doing it with or without my help?”

  “Without.”

  There was no hesitation this time. As soon as Chaz backed off and got into position on the end of the kayak, Megan went over. Chaz could see immediately that she would never make it. She put her hands around the kayak and flipped it back upright.

  Megan let all the air out of her lungs with a big whoosh of surprise, then her expression turned to fury. She slammed her paddle against the kayak. “What did you do that for?”

  “Your paddle was in the wrong position. Remember? You need to put your hands—”

  “I know what I did wrong,” Megan snapped, cutting her off. “Just get ready and let’s go.”

  “Not until you take a deep breath and focus,” Chaz said slowly. “It’s important that the setup is right—and remember, you have to have the upward blade flat on the surface of the water when you begin the sweep and hip snap. If the blade dives—if it comes down perpendicular to the water—you won’t have enough resistance to pull yourself up.”

  “I know,” Megan said, biting her lip.


  Chaz positioned herself, hands on the bow of the boat. She normally had infinite patience at this procedure, even with difficult clients. Three tries at Eskimo rolling was nothing. But the frigid water had seeped deep into her wet suit, and something about Megan’s princess attitude was starting to get to her. She was anxious for this to be finished. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Megan closed her eyes. Several seconds passed. Then she squared her shoulders, leaned left, and disappeared under the surface. Chaz counted seconds, holding her breath. Ten. Twenty. She saw the blade of Megan’s paddle break the surface of the water, turn, orient itself. Thirty seconds. She took her hands away when she felt the boat begin to move. The kayak righted itself and Megan reappeared, gasping for air and shivering.

  Her eyes found Chaz’s. They were bright and sparkling, and a smile spread across her face. “Did I make it? Or did you help me?”

  Chaz grinned back. “You made it all by yourself. Congratulations.” You look altogether different when you’re happy.

  “Wow!” Megan whooped. She raised her paddle aloft in a moment of unabashed giddy happiness. But she reined herself in at once and became her usual serious self.

  “That’s plenty for today. Why don’t we both go in and get warm?” Chaz suggested, giving Megan’s kayak a shove toward shore.

  Megan put her paddle in the water and started to go in, but paused a few feet away. “Thanks,” she said, over her shoulder, just loud enough for Chaz to hear.

  “Welcome.” Why are you so determined not to like me? She frowned. What’s not to like?

  There was no ego behind Chaz’s musings. She had always been well liked. She was an honest, and loyal, and steadfast friend, the first to remember a birthday, to show up in a time of crisis, the first to volunteer her time and energy to a worthy cause. Many of her Orion clients had kept in touch over the years with her, Christmas cards and letters updating their lives and fondly recalling their Alaskan experience.