KARMA IN THE KEYS

Karma, payback, or comeuppances have always intrigued me.  Those terms give me solace whenever I'm upset and don't want to face the consequences of my temper.  I have to tell myself during those times that, eventually, they'll get what's coming to them...whether or not I have the pleasure of seeing it.

It was on a recent sailing trip when I was able to talk around someone who immediately experienced Karma.  His name is Richard.

We left Angel's mooring at Coconut Grove Sailing Club after dark.  While some wind was close to shore, we weren't entirely out of the channel leading to Biscayne Bay when the wind died...completely.  We immediately set anchor in a safe location not far from the channel.  We had never seen the Bay so flat with absolutely no waves.  It felt similar to living in the Panhandle of Texas, where you can see forever across the flat, semi-arid land.  This was the water version of that sight.

I jumped into the water as soon as the anchor was secured.  I'd forgotten about the light show created underwater at night when you flail your arms and legs.  All those brightly lit bubbles were mesmerizing.  It was what I imagined hippies experienced after taking LSD back in the day.  When I mentioned my little underwater light show to Ricard, he reminded me about the Nuclear Power Plant about 20 miles south of us.  There's a killjoy in every crowd.

Swimming in the ocean at night in the middle of summer is a beautiful sensation.  Being the romantic sort, Richard decided to make the very best of the situation.  He turned on some mood-making Motown music, lit some candles, made some drinks, and came a-calling in the water.  Did I mention I was skinny dipping? 

It was a night to remember.

The next day was a long sail to Elliot Key, as the wind was still not cooperating.  When we finally set anchor in the middle of the afternoon, we decided to kayak to shore.  Angel was about 600 yards from the land.  Richard inflated the kayak.  He exclaimed, "It's from National Geographic!". I overheard some four-letter words during the inflation period, which I am sure expedited the kayak being made ready to launch. 

Not long after we started rowing, Richard's oar broke.  I worked so hard paddling the kayak that I quickly developed blisters. I kept rowing...and rowing.  Further complicating things was the need for more maneuverability of the kayak, as it could not be rowed in a straight line.  Yes, even National Geographic can make inferior products.  

We were about 20 yards from shore when Richard decided we should get out of the kayak and walk in the water toward the mangroves the rest of the way.  This decision proved to be wise in a couple of ways.  One, it could have started a major argument had I not agreed, and two, Richard, like most men, hates appearing less than in total control.

Soon, it was time to head back to the boat.  Ever the gentleman, Richard offered to let me get into the kayak first.  If you've ever tried to get a size 14 bottom into a kayak the size of a postage stamp, you know what I experienced.  Plus, getting into an inflatable kayak in 3 feet of water is very difficult.  None of it was pretty.  Richard couldn't help himself by commenting, "You look like a beached whale getting into a kayak."  I admonished him for saying such a thing, even though I knew it to be true. Mainly, I was concentrating on righting the kayak and climbing in...one way or the other.

Richard's turn was next.  As strong and sea/sailboat competent as Richard is, he could not get into the kayak.  He tried getting in by flinging his body over the top, and then he tried with one leg, but it was difficult...very difficult.  I hung on for dear life, determined not to go through the beached whale scene again.  After many attempts and numerous four-letter words, he finally got in the kayak.  I was laughing so hard that I couldn't get my coordination going well enough to get us headed in the right direction.  Also, the tide was coming in rather rapidly.  Angel looked at least 4 miles away.  I realized that we'd better get serious and begin rowing in earnest.  Otherwise, we risked not having a good outcome.  I relinquished my paddle to Richard.  We made it after what seemed like an eternity.

He learned a lesson:  Don't tell someone you love that they look like a beached whale.  Karma always finds you, and sometimes, it's an immediate reckoning.




Summer 2006


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