Warning: Water May Be LESS Deep Than It Appears

Shallow waters can be every bit as tricky as deep waters, if you weren't expecting them to be so.

Kayaking has become a weekend routine, in a way. Almost as I'd dreamt and planned.

The most recent outing started as just another paddle at low tide. We headed toward the train trestle to explore; we wanted to wait and see a train cross from the water. As we approached, egret-like birds appeared to be standing, not floating, so we knew the water was not quite as deep as the main part of the bay. Papa Rooster and Sissy turned back in their canoe with the outboard motor. Lil' Bro and I paddled on...

While waiting for the train, we observed among the grasses...

... teeny birds darting to and fro on the mud flats. Contemplating, Lil' Bro remarked, "I didn't know birds could be so tiny."

And then we saw the train! And a second crossing the other way! Mission accomplished, we prepared to head back to the dock.

Except the tide had pulled out more while we were waiting on the train; we hadn't moved, but the water had. And while I could feel the bottom an inch or two beneath my kayak, Lil Bro's kayak weighed just a bit more than mine, and, well, he's bigger than I am, so he was stuck...

No amount of wiggling would get him free, no pushing with the paddle. So out he had to come. And then he sank, past his ankles in thick black mud...as I watched, just barely floating, clean and comfy in my kayak🙃...

A little farther from shore, trying to avoid more trudging, and sinking, in deep, dark mud - "It's gross. It IS GROSS! Let's see if I can go..." - Lil' Bro climbed in and tried paddling again, giving a go with his shallow water paddling technique, flicking up mud, but otherwise not moving forward. No luck. So on he trudged, through the muck, dragging his kayak, as I paddled on toward the middle deeper part.

Finally back at the dock, ankles and legs hosed off, muddy kayak hosed off inside and out, we were rewarded with pretty sunset colors and a crescent 🌙...

...and the twinkling lights of the Throgs Neck Bridge in the distance.

And for all that mucky trudging, we were rewarded with a nice Chinese dinner out.

And for all that ordeal, which Papa Rooster and Sissy were spared by cutting their water adventure short, Papa Rooster waxed happily about his water jaunt, thrilled to get to use his little motor. 

But the assembly of the souped up canoe, with all its accessories and accoutrements, to stabilize it with pontoons, to allow it to accept the outboard motor, to outfit it with oars in case the battery runs out on the motor - easily an additional 30 to 45 minutes of time both pre- and post-launch - just kills me. I don't have the patience for it. Sissy is a saint; she indulges Papa Rooster, as he does her. But time is our scarcest resource. Time is what we, the family of an 86-year-old, don't have in abundance. So today, with my extra summer wellness day granted by the business I support, Mother Hen and Papa Rooster and I headed to Jersey, to look at a tandem kayak that integrates a trolling motor, and is stable enough to allow for standing, even in a choppy bay. It's big and heavy and expensive, but I'd be happy to get it if we can just put it in, and if Mother Hen can join him. The hiccup is the low seat that Papa Rooster can't sit in comfortably. So now I am researching higher seats. We shall see if I can't solve this yet.

Spending time to gain more time.