The First Paddle
I can hear Carah and AJ in the distance, laughing as they paddle away. It’s just Cy and I now, floating on the water. Cy’s laying down in the middle of the kayak, nuzzled up against my legs. He’s both scared and curious… as am I.
It should be noted that Cy has never swam before and I don’t exactly know how to float. I get away with playing in the ocean since the salinity of the water naturally keeps me bobbling. Luckily, the Back Bay of Newport Beach offers both salt water and areas of two-feet deep paddling.
My greatest fear is that he’s miserable the entire time followed by the thought of him freaking out, flipping the kayak and both of us drowning as our friends paddle off unaware of our impeding doom.
As we both take a simultaneous deep breath, I noticed how quiet it is; how Cy’s breathing is always a pace ahead of mine; how he pauses to listen to the silence and how strangely beautiful the sound of comfort can wash over you. In that moment, I thought to myself, “this.”
This is why we’re fighting. This is why we’re living. For this moment. For these types of moments.
A breeze blows through causing ripples to hit the side of the kayak. Cy notices something in the distance and for a second I panic, thinking he’s going to make break for it and jump out of the kayak; thinking the worst. He sits up. Ears perked. Eyes focused on something in the distance I cannot see. Birds.
They fly by so closely that I could reach out and touch them. By Cy doesn’t leap. He sits. We see a fish propel itself two feet out of the water.
Carah and her son, AJ who just met Cy, come back in view. And I realize that moment, the one that I could live in for a lifetime, was a mere five seconds.
It’s funny when you make big plans and realize all you really need is five seconds.
We paddle ahead to catch up, Cy crouches down again. I can’t tell if he’s having a good time or if he’s just doing it for me. Mostly, I think, he’s just doing it for me.
I notice him sniffing the air. AJ paddles by and sneaks in a pat on Cy’s head. We decide to race to the outer buoy, the one that signifies the paddle perimeter. I want to go fast, but Cy buckles down and I realize, he’s scared and uncomfortable. I slow down at the last minute. AJ passes us and crashes head on into the buoy. We all crash into the buoy.
As we laugh, Cy perks up. Carah shouts out to him and snaps a photo. And it’s true, he’s just doing it for me, for us. Cy just wants us to be happy. Our happiness is his. Which is ironic because his happiness is mine.
As we make our way back towards the beach, we detour through a small, shallow, muddy canal. Groups of sandpipers are feasting on the edge of the water. Carah paddles right up to a large group as AJ, Cy and myself linger next to a smaller patch. As I go to grab a video of Cy watching the birds, they take off all around us.
Cy never made a break for the birds. He never tipped the boat. We never drowned. Instead, it was a beautiful morning on the water. As we shore up, Cy jumps eagerly out of the kayak. He races for dry sand and makes a good, long pee. Tail wagging, Cy is happy.
We’re all happy.
NEWPORT AQUATIC CENTER
newportaquaticcenter.com
$14 single/hour
$20 double/hour
