Paddle Faster I See Lightning

In an effort to prove that we are cool dudes who take just the right amount of risk (read, very little), I talked my dad into going paddleboarding on Bayou St John during my trip home. I just cleared out my entire storage unit and saved only a handful of things, well a big handful since one of those items was a 10'6" paddleboard. But once the locker was empty and the Bridge House donation truck pulled away, we drove to Gracious Bakery for pastry-style sandwiches and iced coffee and then did a lap around the bayou and saw Bayou Paddleboards setting up shop on the bank. Since the impetus for this trip was to clear out my storage and we got that locked up before noon on the first day, I convinced my (more or less willing) father to go paddleboarding on the bayou.

Our trip began smoothly enough. We walked over to the cute, tattooed girl in hipster glasses and board shorts and got our gear. My dad, opted for a one-person kayak, which turned out to be a brilliant move since I brought my paddleboard and will not be able to stand up for at least another two days. Anywho, Tattooed hipster chick gave us instructions and away we went. We pushed off into the bayou by the dental school and started heading upwind down BSJ.

I got underway and after some practice got going enough for me to stay up and make some progress. We paddled passed a box turtle who was swimming across the center of the channel and paddled under a series of very low bridges (I had to get on my belly and surf paddle to make it under).

Next we came up jumping fish that nearly jumped right into my dad's kayak. We continued further down the bayou and that is when the weather hit. We had been dodging a little pop-up thunderstorm and all of a sudden the wind picked up out of the north, a cooler breeze and it got dark, fast. We started paddling back to our original launch point, but didn't make it.

The lightning strikes were uncomfortably close, the thunderclaps nearly instantaneous and the rain start falling in fat drops. We made it over to the closest bank just as the torrent joined us. After sliding a few times and having to fish my dad out with my paddle, we beached the board and kayak on the bank and ran across Moss St. to find cover. We were soaked and I had to put a life jacket on (for warmth) and we hunkered down on the porch of a mustard-colored house.

The squall intensified and we rode it out on the porch, chatting, laughing and counting our blessings. We were even joined by a wayward duckling trying to find his peeps. Once the rain let up and the ducks were reunited (I'm pretty sure they found each other) we launched again and paddled back toward the rental beach. The rain and wind had chilled us so the water on the bayou was down-right hot. It was a welcome sensation after "weathering the storm". After a short paddle and another limbo under the last bridge we made it back to the launch site.

We returned the kayak and regaled the cute surfer/hipster girl with our (mostly factual) heroic tale of survival on the open seas. She was moderately impressed. As she should have been.

So what could have been a disastrous foray into watersports on the bayou, turned out to be a fun adventure, which had a lot to do with our attitude, but being crazy helps too.