Half awake, fuelled by coffee, bananas, oats and cereal, they wander quietly through their houses to prepare for a long journey. It’s 6 am and the Scottish sun has already been out for hours, gently kissing the horizon. Emma has been tucked away and moored in a hidden marina that is lush and overgrown with tall green grass and wildflowers, and filled with scattered trinkets like a miniature canoe, a skeleton from hallowe’en in a gazebo, and a quaint shed next to a well-used pizza oven. Butterflies, bees, and flies shine like fairy dust glistening in the low morning light. A few of us are the first to arrive and are greeted by a kind uncle and his puppy, who live in the quaint harbour.
One by one the dragons appear. We do a warm-up with the intent to shake the dust off of our tired and aching bones. Once getting into the boat, I find myself worried – at this point, I was still sore from paddling the day before. For a moment, the long journey ahead – nearly 30 miles – seemed too daunting. But then I looked at my team-mates’ glowing and eager faces – and suddenly I am calm. This is because I realise that the strength to persevere such long distances is derived from the mind and sustained by the lifeblood of our community and connection with one another. I know that we can do this.
Every time the blade hit the water, we were one step closer to coming home.
I signed up for six out of eight of the segments of our journey that day. I was fortunate to witness my team-mates as they departed and arrived from different segments. We opened Emma to visitors, and it was a fun challenge integrating each person’s unique paddling style in the boat. Our helms and team-mates exercised superb instructional skill to teach the art of the stroke. Sharing the boat, even with strangers, is an intimate experience. To propel the boat forward requires extreme precision with timing and power. Some of us twist, some of us reach that extra inch. But there is a common thread that weaves through us all. Our eyes stay focused on the two strokers, or the person in front of us, following the fluid muscle movement of our team-mates’ backs and shoulders. With every stroke, we reach forward, plant our paddle in the water, and send the water back. But we do this in unison, we do this with cognisant effort to match the other dragons so that we have synergy and resonance of each other’s strength and movement.
When I was outside of the boat watching the first time visitors, when their connection with the boat clicks, it’s like witnessing a flower open its petals for the first time. It’s a gentle excitement that can be seen not just in their eyes but in their stroke; it is a sudden birth of love and connection for a sport and community that cannot be un-done. For visiting experienced paddlers, it was beautiful to see them bring their years of experience and the spirit of their home team into the boat. Paddling has that magical ability to bring together and heal people from all around the world. A stroker from Australia leads a segment – and her impressive reach grabs the water near Emma’s eyes and propels the boat forward. The helmsmen and women have resilience that is impressive and un-matched – standing for hours at a time and taking the lead of long stretches of the union canal. They call out orders with confidence, unimpeded by the heat or the intensity of the sun. With them we travel a straight line home. The rhythm of the drummer against the backdrop of the Scottish landscape was like a heart beat of the land.
No ye canna shove yer granny off the bus
Throughout the eight segments and roughly ten hours of paddling, I don’t recall a single instance of anyone being tired. The memory that is burned in my mind is the laughter. Small soft moments between dragons are shared throughout the day. We use this opportunity to learn from each other, listen to each other’s stories and truly see one another. We stand near Aldi for a rest and share lemonade popsicles and crisps, or on-top the many bridges and aqueducts that to see the beauty of Scotland and our team pass through the canal. We share cherries and peaches with our loved ones and supporters as we wait for Emma to reach its next segment. We sing songs as we paddle through the canal and it actually helps us with our timing. Though near the end of the day while our muscles are tired and aching, the smile never retreats.
What an honour it was to paddle with my team, the Port Edgar Dragons. It was a team that started as an avenue to provide community to women who have gone through the unimaginable: breast cancer. In the present it passes down that message clearly – and is a club that brings together generations of pink paddlers and their supporters, and represents the tenacity and elasticity of the human spirit. We share this achievement of our long distance paddle with the many who have come before us in the club and the loved ones we’ve lost. Crossing 40 bridges to come home represents more than the distance itself: it is a testament that in the face of adversity, we can and will go on.
Our crossing is a testament that in the face of adversity, we can and will go on.
Recent Comments