It was a very satisfying physical achievement. My kayak is 30 years old and at Labour Weekend it was under a bach, dirty, and unused for a couple of years (photo). The kayaker is older still and … well, I’ll avoid the litany of physical failings. Needles to say it is a while since I have done 6 – 8 hours of physical activity in one day, let alone day after day. It was good, however, to be in the midst such a challenge again. So, a good thing done.
There was a host of things to think on while we paddled or rested on remote beaches: Reading historical journals (of Bishop Selwyn in particular); the environment – splendid, beautiful; and scared by humans, and the indigenous wildlife – playing with dolphins a real highlight.
Spiritually the slower pace of self propelled travel allowed the Spirit to restore reassess some parts of my life.
There are a good number of people to thank: people who sent messages and texts one way or another (some on this blog); my father who became honorary admiral of the fleet for a couple of days; Jayson Rhodes; Sarah Stevens and Rich; Mitzi; and Jane.
Most of all my thanks go to John, my companion along the way. I have studied friendship seriously while at Yale. Such study is no real substitute for getting on with it. Aelred of Rievaulx writes of ‘friend cleaving to friend.’ Because of the risks and challenges involved in such a trip at see in little boats we have simply had to cleave to one another. Kayaking demands ‘rafting up’ (coming alongside each other and holding onto each other to provide stability) to rest and look at maps etc. It is great metaphor for life together.
Thank you. Thank God.