Acadia National Park

by Mike Graf

  Morgan, James, and Dad hustled down from camp and met Mom with her friend at the gravelly beach.

  As soon as Karen landed, she pulled the skirt off the main hatch of the kayak. Using her paddle for support, she balanced herself then stepped out. She walked right up to Mom, giving her a big hug.

  The two old friends backed up a step, both still smiling. Then they said at the same time, “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  Mom introduced her family.

  Karen then said, “This is Ann,” and pointed to her friend hauling up the other boat. “She was kind enough to paddle out with me yesterday. She’s got your boat and will take the ferry back with the rest of your clan.”

  “We were worried about you yesterday,” Mom said. “How did you get out here with that storm?”

  “Oh that,” Karen replied nonchalantly. “It was nothing,” she added with a laugh. “Seriously, you’re right. That was a crazy storm—a remnant hurricane, in fact. I knew it was coming, so we left early and stayed with a friend over in the village of Isle au Haut. It was the only way it could possibly work.”

  Karen gazed at the clear blue skies this morning. “But the weather sure has cooperated for us today!”

  Everyone spent a few minutes chatting. Then Karen began to get Mom ready for the eight-mile ocean jaunt back to Stonington.

  “OK, Kristen,” Karen started. “We need to get going soon to give us plenty of time to get to the mainland, so let me tell you about the kayak.”

  Karen pointed out the sealed hatches for stowing gear and keeping out water, the emergency supplies she had on board, techniques for getting into the boat and out onto the water, and some of the initial paddling strokes.

  Mom smiled. “You really have it all dialed in. And that’s quite a craft for me.”

  Karen smiled back. “Welcome to my world as a Master Sea Kayak Guide in Maine. I’m known locally as Kayak Karen. So tell me what kind of kayaking experiences and instruction you’ve had.”

  “Oh, here and there on some small lakes and out at the spit by Morro Bay,” Mom said. “But never in open water like we’re doing. This will definitely be a first for me.”

  Karen responded, “I’m glad to take you out. And it will give us a chance to fill in the details of the last twenty years of our lives.” Karen looked at Morgan and James. “I’ll get your mom back to Stonington later this afternoon around two or three o’clock. You’ll see us paddling in right next to where you’ll be landing earlier.” She then said to Mom, “Let’s get you on board. We can go over some more techniques while we’re out at sea.”

  Karen helped Mom move the kayak so it was mostly in the water. Then she balanced it so Mom could step in. Once Mom was seated, they both pulled the skirt all the way around the hatch until it was fully secure. Then Karen pushed Mom out into the water.

  Mom paddled around nearby, waiting for Karen. When they both were offshore, they looked toward the beach.

  “Bon voyage!” Morgan called out while taking pictures.

  “See you in Stonington!” James added.

  And with that, Mom and Karen began paddling out of the cove. James, Morgan, and Dad watched until they turned right and were out of sight. Then they went up to camp to pack up and haul their gear down to the pier to wait for the mail boat.

  As Mom and Karen kayaked along, they took some time to get reacquainted. After filling each other in with the details of their lives, Mom said, “I can’t believe that much time, and life, has gone by.”

  Karen watched Mom paddle along for a few minutes. Then she said, “Would you mind if I gave you a few tips to help your paddling?”

  “Not at all,” Mom replied. “I’m all ears.”

  “OK,” Karen said. “First, let’s fine-tune your hand positions. With your paddle on your head, place your hands far enough apart on the shaft so that your elbows form ninety-degree angles.” Karen watched Mom get the paddle in its proper place. “Awesome! That will give you a strong, stable position. You also want to hold the paddle out from your body with nice, straight arms. This is called the ‘paddler’s box.’ As you paddle, use your whole body for efficient paddling.”

  Mom adjusted her hold on the paddle. “How’s that?”

  “There, much better,” Karen said. “As you paddle, you can use your leg strength, too. With every stroke, try pushing on the same side’s stationary foot pedal. As you are stroking, straighten and bend your legs like you’re riding a bike and see what happens.”

  Mom started pedaling and paddling. “Wow!” she responded. “That really got me accelerating.”

  “A little technique can go a long way. Also, your stroke should go into the water near your feet. Your main power is from your feet to your hips. When you paddle like that, we can really get moving.”

  Karen watched Mom for a moment then added, “Try drawing an arc with your paddle, out from the boat to just under the surface of the water, not straight down. If you want to turn, follow the arc through to the stern, or back, of the kayak.”

  “Thanks,” Mom said, concentrating. “I’m already feeling the difference.”

  As Mom and Karen cruised along the water side by side, a lobster boat passed by farther out from shore. Karen turned toward Mom. “We’re going to get some waves from that boat. Let’s turn right into them and paddle through them. That’s the best way to handle oncoming waves.”

  Sure enough, a series of larger swells created by the boat quickly headed toward Mom and Karen. Mom turned her kayak so that she was heading right toward the swells.

  “Paddle right into the waves!” Karen reminded her friend.

  Mom paddled strongly forward toward each of the swells. The first wave lifted Mom’s kayak high up, then it dipped until the second and third swells rolled by. Soon, both Mom and Karen were beyond the wake.

  “Whoo-hoo!” Mom called out once she was in calmer waters. “That was fun!”

  “And you handled the kayak perfectly,” Karen replied.

  Mom and Karen paddled along the shoreline past a lighthouse. “Hugging the shore keeps us out of open water where we are more vulnerable,” Karen explained.

  Mom noticed a large bird glide toward the water ahead of her. The bird swooped down to the surface and plucked up a fish in its talons. The predator turned its prey facing forward and began to fly away.

  “That’s an osprey!” Mom called out.

  Suddenly a loud piercing call grabbed the kayakers’ attention. Another bird, a much larger one, flew toward the osprey. It was a bald eagle, and it started dive-bombing the osprey repeatedly.

  After several feigned attacks, the osprey released its fish. The eagle immediately dove and caught the stunned fish right before it hit water. Then the larger bird flew away with its food.

  Mom looked at Karen. “Boy, you don’t get to see that every day!”

  “No, you don’t,” Karen replied. But she was now eyeing two kayakers, paddling one after the other toward the middle of more-open water.

  Karen watched the two move along for a minute. Then she turned toward Mom. “Can you head to that island over there?” she asked.

  Karen watched as Mom paddled toward a stark, sandy beach.

  Karen smiled at Mom, then took off paddling after the two kayakers. After a moment Karen called back to Mom, “Would you mind staying there? That’s our lunch spot anyway. And by the way, I have it all taken care of for you.”

  As Mom’s kayak struck bottom, she placed her paddle behind her and balanced herself on it so she could step out. Once out of the boat, she pulled the kayak farther up on the beach. Karen was now chatting with the kayakers out at sea.

  A moment later, Karen turned her kayak toward Mom. She heard Karen call out good-bye to the other kayakers, and they began to paddle toward shore now in a parallel formation.

  When Karen reached the tiny island where Mom was, she too beached her kayak. Then Karen waltzed up to Mom.

  “What was that all about?” Mom asked.

  “I just wanted
to help them and make sure they don’t get in over their heads. They may not be aware of the constant boat traffic in this area. Just sharing a little local knowledge!”

  “What were they doing?”

  “Paddling into the middle of a boating lane. Going too far from shore. And kayaking one after another, not side by side. Boats can’t see them as well that way.”

  Mom said, “I’m glad I’m with you, learning the rules of the road. I know I couldn’t have done this on my own.”

  “I’m glad you’re with me, too,” Karen said. “Besides, look at what I have for us.”

  Karen opened up one of the hatches on her kayak, then reached in and pulled out a dry bag. She took the bag to a rock and spread out a display of food from inside it. “Lunch is served on Burnt Island!” she announced.

  The two hungry kayakers dove right in.

  12

  Flipped!

  After lunch and a quick dip in the ocean, Mom and Karen were back at it. “We are still less than halfway back to Stonington,” Karen said to Mom as they got back in their kayaks. “We have a lot of paddling ahead.”

  Karen led Mom toward a boulder-strewn area near another small, white, sandy beach and island. She warned Mom, “It’s rocky in here and quite shallow. Follow my path as we maneuver between the obstacles.”

  As Karen and Mom paddled through, Mom saw several large boulders just beneath and sticking above the water’s surface. She tapped one with her paddle to test the depth as she glided by.

  In the distance, a boat whisked by in the deeper waters. Mom noticed a set of large swells develop in the boat’s wake and roll toward her.

  The largest swell came quickly. Mom positioned her kayak to take the wave straight on. But, just as she was turning forward, she noticed a large rock barely submerged ahead of her. I’ll hit bottom! Mom feared.

  At the last second, Mom shifted her paddling to try to move to the left, hoping to avoid the rock. Just then the first of the set of swells arrived. But Mom was no longer facing forward against the oncoming waves.

  The large, quickly moving swell lifted Mom’s kayak, jostling it sideways and directly onto a rock partially sticking up out of the water. She slammed into the rock, tipping her kayak sideways and rolling her into the ocean.

  Instantly Mom was pinned underneath the kayak. Panicked, she did her best to recall Karen’s self-rescue steps. Tuck, pound, pull, and push! Mom immediately told herself.

  While upside down and underwater, Mom bent her body over and tucked in toward the kayak. Then she quickly pounded on the boat. A fleeting second later, she moved her hands up until she found the kayak’s skirt still in place and holding her underwater. Mom guided her hands to the front of the hatch, found the grab loop, pulled the skirt off, and pushed herself out of the kayak and into the water. Her life jacket brought her right to the surface. Once her head was above the water, she gasped for breath.

  As soon as Mom looked around, she saw Karen already in contact with her kayak. “Are you OK?”

  Mom nodded, but Karen could tell she was uncertain. Mom was shivering. “Hold onto your kayak, and I’ll get you away from these rocks,” Karen instructed.

  Karen swiftly attached a carabiner to Mom’s kayak and guided it away from any rocks. Once they were clear of the underwater obstacles, Karen told Mom to hold onto her kayak while she lifted the bow on Mom’s craft over to hers to empty the water from the cockpit. Then Karen placed the kayak back into the water and stabilized it while talking Mom through the steps that would lead her back in.

  After getting Mom back into the boat, Karen towed Mom’s kayak between several rock obstacles and paddled the two safely toward Wheat Island, only ten or so yards away. In little time, they hit land on the tiny island. Karen noticed that Mom’s lips were tinting blue.

  After the kayaks were partially onshore, Karen hustled over and helped Mom out. She held her up and walked her to the beach, sitting her down propped up against a rock.

  Karen dashed back to the boats and pulled them farther up on the sand. Then she rushed over to Mom, who was shivering even more.

  “Quite a spill you had there!” Karen said, trying to speak matter-of-factly.

  “You . . . can . . . say . . . that . . . again,” Mom said between chattering teeth.

  Mom was clearly cold and possibly borderline hypothermic. In addition, she could be hurt and likely frightened—all due to her tumble into the Gulf of Maine.

  “First,” Karen directed, “we need to get you into some warm, dry clothes. I have an emergency set of clothes in a dry bag in my kayak.”

  Karen helped Mom get out of her wet gear. Then she wrapped Mom in a dry towel. After that, Mom was able to put on Karen’s extra set of dry clothes.

  From that point Mom improved rapidly. She soon smiled at her old friend and said, “Good thing I had you with me!”

  Karen smiled and said, “Let’s get you some food to eat, OK?”

  Mom nodded and took an energy bar and some chocolate from Karen. About halfway through, Karen noticed Mom’s breathing was slowing down and seemed to be returning to normal.

  For a moment the two were quiet on Wheat Island. The emergency had passed. Karen got up to get the last bits of water out of Mom’s boat, but then from somewhere nearby, they both heard a loud massive gush of air that lasted several long seconds.

  Mom and Karen paused, held their breath, and listened.

  Another powerful burst of air came again, this time lasting longer, like a gigantic sigh.

  Mom gaped at Karen with wide eyes. “Are we not the only mammals on this island?”

  Karen replied, “I would say we are definitely not alone. Except I think the mammal we are hearing belongs in the water.”

  13

  Stranded

  A split second later, Mom and Karen jumped up. They quickly tracked the animal’s long, loud, and labored breathing. It was easy to find the whale.

  The two friends hiked over a tiny hill, and there it was. A large humpback lay stranded on a sand spit between some rocks. The whale was completely out of the water, breathing heavily and thrashing its tail.

  “Poor thing,” Mom muttered. “What do you think happened?”

  “It’s hard to tell,” Karen replied. “But this part of Maine has huge swings in the tides—up to twelve feet, and sometimes even fourteen feet. And that whale doesn’t appear fully grown. I’d guess it is a yearling, and this may be its first year away from its mom. It might be that it was trying to scoop up some herring in the shallow waters or shoals right here.” Karen pointed to the cove next to the island.

  “It could have overshot its push to scoop up fish, and in its zeal for a meal it thrust itself right onto the beach. Then the tide went out and, well, here it is now, high and dry.”

  Mom and Karen stared for a moment at the massive creature, watching it breathe and, at times, thrash about.

  “Fully grown or not,” Mom commented, “it sure is big.”

  “I’m only speculating on how it got here. Perhaps we’ll never really know,” Karen said. “But I am sure of what we need to do now.”

  Karen looked at Mom. “Are you OK? Completely recovered?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Mom replied nonchalantly. “I’m absolutely fine.”

  “OK then, come with me.” Karen led Mom quickly back to the kayaks. There she stuffed buckets, water bottles, and her water pump into a bag and handed it all to Mom. Then she grabbed some more supplies to carry.

  Karen retrieved her cell phone from her hatch, picked it up, and dialed. It rang twice before someone answered.

  Karen spoke. “We have a presumed yearling humpback whale stranded on Wheat Island. It’s alive and thrashing about. We are two kayakers, Karen Francoeur and Kristen Parker, who happened upon the island.”

  Karen listened then said, “OK, got it,” and hung up the phone.

  Mom asked, “What did they say?”

  “Follow me,” Karen replied.

  As they hustled back to the whale, K
aren told Mom what was going on. “They’re assembling a crew and boat to come out. They think it will be one to two hours before they’re here, though. In the meantime, they told us we can help by trying to keep the whale wet.”

  Mom and Karen arrived back at the whale. Karen held Mom’s arm for a moment. “Whatever you do, don’t get anywhere near the flippers or tail. You’ve seen it thrashing around. We could easily get hurt trying to help the whale. Also, we have to make sure water doesn’t get into the blowhole. That’s like getting water up your nose. So, we’re going to use these water bottles, and if I can get enough distance, I’ll pump water from the ocean right onto the whale. We’ll keep doing that until help arrives.”

  Meanwhile, the rest of the Parkers and the other passengers on the mail boat ferry had just docked at Stonington. They were climbing off the boat with their gear in hand when they heard an announcement coming off the boat’s marine band radio: “Sécurité, sécurité, sécurité. Marine Mammal Stranding Hotline. We’ve got a report of a stranded humpback whale on Wheat Island. Report was given by two female kayakers. One is a local outfitter. A marine mammal rescue center has been contacted and they are sending out a crew.”

  HELP AT SEA

  * * *

  There are three general calls a marine vessel can make to alert others. “Securité” sends out a general message about weather, safety, navigation, or an unusual situation. “Pan-pan” is more urgent but isn’t for a grave or imminent threat. Mechanical breakdowns often get a “pan-pan” call out. “Mayday” is only used when the vessel and/or people on board are in immediate, grave danger.

  Morgan, James, Dad, and Ann, Karen’s friend, all looked at each other. “That’s Mom and Karen out there!” Morgan exclaimed.

  The four held still for a moment. Then Dad said, “Let’s quickly get our gear back in the car.”

  The car was parked on the pier, just a few feet away. Once their gear was stowed, Dad said, “Come on. Let’s see what else we can find out.”