Going for a first kayak on the weekend was glorious. The sun was bright with a rare clear day. There were no clouds to dampen the sky’s celebration. We bundled up as the air was still crisp.
Setting out on Lake Ontario, the waters were relatively calm. Flat water on a significant lake is rare, but she was in a gentle mood. Lilting waves welcomed our return from a six-month hiatus. It seems incredible that it’s been so long since we last paddled.
The horizon felt vast —like the prairies of my youth, except here, blue skies kissed the endless water instead of canola or wheat. We enjoyed the panorama and the strengthening sun on our faces.
‘Ontario’1 is thought to be a derivative of ‘skanadario’ an Iroquois word meaning “beautiful water” or “sparkling water.” Many indigenous languages were spoken in this area, and there are variations on this definition, but “beautiful water” captures it well.
Back in the day, I welcomed guests from different parts of the world to Toronto. As we drove from the airport to their hotel downtown, we’d travel along the lake, and they’d ask, “What sea is that?” Chuckling, we’d explain that is part of the Great Lakes that straddle the US/ Canada border. Her biggest sister, Lake Superior, dwarfs Lake Ontario. It seems impossible that it is freshwater, but it’s part of the many gifts of living here.
Like any large body of water, they create weather events such as ‘lake effect snow’ in winter. On open water, the swells can become fierce. Being caught in a storm on these lakes at any time of year can be extremely dangerous, especially in a kayak. Even sea-going freighters can be at risk2.
Venturing out onto open water, I thought about how fragile we were, bobbing along the top. A sense of danger and beauty merge to make an exhilarating experience. Our eyes are on the weather and any change in good fortune. Having gone into icy waters once, I don’t wish to repeat the experience.
We soon turned into a large harbour and paddled through the marsh for several kilometres. Swans, ducks, geese, marsh birds, turtles, and muskrats were busy with spring chores: building nests, finding food, and sunning themselves. Our shoulders and arms burned from the effort of our eight-kilometre round trip.
The sticker on the front of my boat shows a green sea turtle, a ‘Honu.’ They bring good luck and are a symbol of longevity and safety. ‘Live Aloha’ means ‘breath of life’ in Hawai’ian. I feel it here.
As I look to the horizon, paddling our return, I’m grateful for the moments we were granted to play safely in her waves.
On November 10, 1975, the SS Edmund Fitzgerald, a large iron ore freighter, sank during a vicious storm on Lake Superior. It carried all 29 crew members to the bottom and was found four days later in 530 feet (160m) of water, snapped in two. There’ve been many dives and speculations about what happened that night, from rogue waves to structural failure to hurricane-force winds causing her to list and capsize. Songwriter and musician Gordon Lightfoot kept the story alive in his song, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.(While it was the largest of the ships lost on Lake Superior, there were over 240 ships that went down in that same area of the lake 1816-1975).
Awesome, Linda!!! Your smile says it all! 🙌
Splendid, Linda! I see the delight on your face. You wear it well. Your discussing waves and storms on the Great Lakes harkened back to a fishing trip with my dad when I was maybe 12. We stayed overnight in a hotel in Erie, PA, and dad had purchased seats for us on a chartered fishing boat. Maybe 50’ in length? We boarded early the next morning after overnight storms. Not too far out the motion of the boat and the Lake made him expel breakfast. He was unable to fish the rest of the trip. Our “haul?” Mostly speckled perch, none of great size. Was I okay with that outcome? Absolutely! My first ever outing on any large body of water.
So i envisioned myself, paddle in hand, sun on my face, right out there with you. Were you in one of the long, slender “ocean kayaks?” Regardless of vessel type, after a six-month wait I can feel your anticipation and joy! A splendid account, Linda. 🙏🏽