Where Did I Leave My Paddle?

Where Did I Leave My Paddle?

A Carolina Paddler article

Text and Photography by Alton Chewning

I went to Fearrington Point on Jordan Lake last week to get in a quick roll practice.  Pulled into the cul-de-sac to unload boat and gear and noticed a slender young fellow with a surfer-haircut carrying a kayak to his car. What struck me was his method of toting the boat, hauling it by the cockpit combing with one hand and a center grab handle with the other, the boat horizontal at waist level.  This awkward carry made me think, “He’s new to kayaking.”

Finished downloading my gear and moved the car to parking.  The fellow’s car was gone but laying on the grass beside his parking spot was a paddle.  Walking by it I also noticed a small nylon spray skirt.  Another car was parked in the next slot so I thought maybe the paddle and skirt belong to that person, but it seemed unlikely since the car had no racks.

Did my limbering up and rolling and headed back to the car.  The paddle and skirt were still there.  Now I’m getting concerned.  They have been sitting idly for an hour now.  No returned owner.  I loaded my boat and gear and puzzled over what to do.  I could take the paddle but how to get it back to the owner?  If left where they are, would the owner remember and return for them before someone else took them?

I wrote a note on a small piece of paper and used a toothpick to pin it to the ground.  Note said effectively, “I have your paddle and skirt.  Please text me at xxxx and identify them and will meet you to return.”  They had been sitting for over an hour, so the owner didn’t immediately miss them.  Maybe this message would be noticed when he did.

Back home, I researched the paddle.  It was wooden and beautiful and in new condition.  Odd thing for the kayaker to have.  His boat, which I could not identify at a distance, looked like an older, slicy whitewater model with a big splashy logo.  This paddle did not seem appropriate for the boat.  It was long for whitewater, 217cm.  It had a ninety degree offset, so an older model.  Well-made but wooden and easily damaged on whitewater.  Had splash rings, so probably intended for some type of flatwater paddling.

The logos were helpful, “Janautica by Azzali.”  A knowledgeable friend, Googs, said Janautica was an Italian boat manufacturer; Azzali, also Italian, a paddle company.  Both perhaps still in business.  Well regarded.  The skirt was nylon and very insubstantial, but the paddle was well made and beautiful if not practical.

I asked some friends for their opinions on how to return the paddle.  Some said they would have left it where it was.  Another suggested calling the park office and maybe the police department.  I called the Jordan Lake State Recreation Area office and the person explained they did not have jurisdiction over Fearrington Point, that would be the NC Wildlife.  Called Wildlife and they said the department did not have a Lost and Found.  Perhaps I should call Jordan Lake Recreation office.

So, now it’s two days later and while pondering my options, I decided to go back to Fearrington Pt. to practice with a different boat.  I took the strayed paddle with me, just in case.  Parked my car where the young guy’s car had been and left the Azzali leaning against the trunk.

After rolling forty-five minutes of pleasant time away, I headed back up to the circle.  As I drew near, a car with a rack moved slowly through the lot.  The car stopped by my vehicle and the young guy with the skateboarder’s mop of hair jumped out.  I yelled to him, “Lose anything?”  He grinned big and the paddle was returned to the rightful owner, Jack.

Jack works at Harbor Freight, mostly on an afternoon-night shift.  He’d went to work after paddling and totally forgot the paddle.  Next day he slept in and then returned to work.  He’s at the age when you can sleep ten hours. This morning he had a thought upon waking, “Where did I leave my paddle?”  Jumped in the car and caught me twenty minutes before I would have been gone.

Jack had first discovered the paddle in the attic of his parent’s house.  The Azzali had belonged to his grandfather, probably purchased thirty years before and obviously little used.  Jack didn’t have much equipment, no paddle, so he put it to use.

Turns out Jack had been practicing rolling too.  He was trying to jump start his kayaking career.  He lives nearby but had spent lots of time in Richmond and had paddled the Upper James in canoes with his dad.  Many of his friends were paddlers and could slice and dice the III’s and IV’s of the Lower James.  Jack had rafted but not kayaked.  He was looking for a new hobby and some new people to hang out with… hearing this caused my CCC-indoctrinated mind to perk up.  “Well then Jack, I know the place for you.”

We discussed appropriate gear, including paddles, and agreed to meet up the following day to orient more.  I gathered up some equipment and met him the next day for a show and tell.  Jack had a used boat bought cheap, a Dagger Transition, in decent shape.  His returned skirt, for which he paid $20., was no bargain.  A biker/boarder’s helmet.  His artwork wooden paddle.  NO PFD.  We looked at a couple of different types and sizes of skirts, paddles, PFDs and helmets.  Gave him ideas for an economical paddle, skirt and PFD to buy on sale, better helmet to come later.

Then we rolled a little.  He had hit his first rolls the day he lost the paddle but in hindsight realized they were bottom-assisted.  It was a cool, windy day and I had another appointment so we decided to meet again a few days later when schedules allowed.  I gave him the CCC sales pitch, told him about Wednesday Fearrington roll practices and advised spending the few bucks to join.  Well worth it.  Talk of Week of Rivers also encouraged him, and I think we have a convert.

A day later he texted to say he had made purchases and would be eager to practice in the coming week and to get on a river when he and the water level were ready.  He had joined the Club.  And the Italian ninety-degree laminated wooden paddle with metal edge guards?  Jack said he was mounting it proudly on a wall, his grandfather’s art-paddle.