DIAMONDS AND DOLPHINS AND THE DOUBLE DARE

I am not a shore person. But I like to camp. My husband hates it. On our last camping trip it rained the whole time. I promised him I would never ask him to come camping again.

When my friend Teri told me her kids were away at camp and her husband was on a business trip for two weeks and did I want to go camping down at Cape May for a few days, I jumped at the chance. We stayed at the Seashore Campground and had a wonderful time, even though it rained the day we arrived and continued halfway through the next day. We drove into Cape May and took pictures of some of the lovely Victorian houses. We went to Sunset Beach and looked for Cape May diamonds.

A Cape May diamond is a piece of quartz that has been polished to varying degrees of transparency by the sand. They wash ashore only on sunset beach. The little gift shop had Cape May diamonds cut by a lapidary and made into jewelry. They look like diamonds. They are beautiful. In addition to the uncut stones we found, i bought a pair of earrings. They look like diamonds set in white gold, worth a couple of thousand dollars, but they are Cape May diamonds set in silver. They cost me less than $35.

We spent an entire day prowling around Cold Spring Historical Village, talking to the craftspeople. We rode our bikes. The day before we were to leave, Teri got a text message from our friend Phil who wanted to know if we wanted to go out in kayaks.

Now, I have been out on a small, calm lake in a very small kayak, but never anything beyond that. Ever since Phil and his granddaughter Sarah went out and whales came up to them I have wanted to go, too, but was also just a little afraid. We didn't see whales, but we saw dolphins from the shore. We decided to go for it.

I know how to swim, but if given a choice I'd rather not. The sign said no launching boats. Boat? The Queen Mary is a boat. Dolphin-watching cruises go out in boats. Is a kayak big enough to be called a boat? It's only slightly larger than a surfboard. We looked around for a lifeguard station to ask. There was no lifeguard station that we could find. We asked in one of the stores and were told no, that sign means motor boats and jet skis. Kayaks are fine.

When Phil, Sarah, Lizzie and Andy arrived, we assured them that we asked and were told that it does not mean kayaks, just things with motors. We went out. Dolphins were always just a few yards ahead of us, playing. I got the feeling they were playing tag with us, because when we drifted, they came closer. It was the adventure of a lifetime. After about an hour and a half, I looked at my watch, realizing that home was three hours away and said I needed to head in. Teri said she did, too, so we all started heading for shore.

Then I saw this Winnebago of a boat coming at what seemed like a direct collision course. I felt like the target in a video game. It seemed no matter which way I turned, it was coming straight at me. When I finally got out of the way, I was relieved as it passed maybe 20 feet in front of me. Then the wake hit me and swamped the kayak!

When I hit the water, I was irritated. If I was an oyster, I'd've been spitting pearls.

All I could think of was something Phil had said--urine attracts sharks. I still wasn't afraid because I "went" before I left land and the dolphins were swimming in a large circle around me. Not close enough to touch, but I knew dolphins will attack a shark. I felt safe, but frustrated.

As near as I could tell, we were still about a half mile from shore. I can swim, but not that far. Another boat came close enough to ask if they could help. By now, I had been in the water long enough to really make me later than I wanted to be getting home. But it was more serious than not getting home in time for dinner.

The tide! As hard as Phil was paddling, trying to tow me in, we were only staying where we were. The crew of another boat, the Double Dare, asked if they could help.

As they came close enough to haul me aboard, they came too close to Teri, whose kayak also swamped. Teri recently recovered from a dislocated hip. They could not haul her up the way they did me because it would pull her hip out again. Andy dove off his kayak without swamping it and with the help of the good folks of the Double Dare, was able to help Teri into his kayak. Andy came on board.

Without my dead weight, Phil is a powerful enough kayaker to make it to shore. The Double Dare took us as close to shore as they could. It was within swimming distance. Andy and I thanked them and dove in.

We started swimming. We were met by two groups of lifeguards on jet skis with sleds. They tried to help me on the sled, but by this time, my hands no longer had the strength to pull me on and with all the sunscreen i had just sprayed on before we started heading in, even with the rough texture on the sled, I still kept sliding off. I tried to tell them I would probably be better off swimming in, but this was their job and I was not in a position to argue. Somehow they got me on the sled.

After convincing the paramedics that I was fine and did not need to go to a hospital and signing a release, I headed for my car.

I heard a disembodied voice coming over a loudspeaker haranguing us for launching kayaks from the beach.

That's when I got angry. All anyone had to say to us when we asked was that a kayak is also considered a boat, even though it is small and has no motor. Where was this voice when we were unloading the kayaks? It isn't as if we sneaked them into the water. We would have found a different place to go. This was adding insult to injury. Teri decided she was going to stay over for one more night--just to rest up and make sure she hadn't overdone. She would be staying safely with the Drumm family, but I felt the need to get home.

I didn't know why it seemed so very important to me--Teri would have lent me the money for one more night at the campground, but I wanted to leave. Anger brought me home. I got on the Garden State Parkway at exit 0 and drove straight through to exit 149 without stopping. Anger can be a good thing. I knew I was angry but refused to let it direct my driving. Anger made the miles pass by quickly--I'm at exit 100 already? Good grief--how fast am I going? I was in the slow lane, doing between 55 and 60. The speed limit was 55, but I think I was the only one going within five miles of it. Every one else was zipping by. For the first time, I was nervous on the highway during ideal conditions. 

Heavy rain spooks me. I will drive to work before the snow starts and camp in the parking lot rather than have to drive in snow. But the parkway on a clear afternoon? Anytime anything bigger and faster than I came close to me, my heart would start racing. I kept remembering the sight of the big boat coming straight for me. Fortunately, I drive a conversion van, so the only thing bigger than that on the parkway is a bus. There were only a few of them late that afternoon.

I pulled into my driveway and went inside to find that my husband had fallen Friday morning and was bruised all down one side. Moving around was a problem. I don't know why I knew I had to go home, but I am glad I did. Am I glad I went? Absolutely. Would I go back? In a heartbeat. Will I ever go kayaking again? Not even if you double dare me.

There are so many people to thank God for. Phil, Sarah, Lizzie and Teri for staying so close by and trying to tow me in; the dolphins for what seemed to be their gentle concern and protection; the captain and crew of the Double Dare; Andy for giving Teri his kayak; the lifeguards for bringing us the rest of the way in and the paramedics for being there if I needed them. I even thank the disembodied voice for making me angry enough to get me home. My husband thanks Teri for persuading me to leave his camera in the car and buying a disposable camera.

Alas, there are no pictures of dolphins. I hope they enjoy playing water polo with the disposable camera.

LWT 2008