My Dad bought an old livery canoe (no name, aluminum, about two tons) when I was a kid. He taught me what he could, and was quite patient when he wanted to fish, but let me “steer.” He got pushed into the bank and snags a lot, and more so when the wind was doing anything. But he was patient, mostly, and I learned. Then I started taking some guided trips, and the guides could offer suggestions—many were ACA certified, and actually offered good instruction. A week or two ago, I did a guided canoe trip near Big Bend National Park. Guided trips are nice. I travel alone, and this way I don’t need worry about shuttles or loading and unloading canoes, and you usually get to do a reasonable distance, etc.. But it did, once again, bring home the point that sterning a canoe is not apparently intuitive or easy. This was at least the third time that I have (stupidly) listened to the person I was paired with, who had been on numerous canoeing adventures. Since he had much experience, I asked if he wanted the stern. He gave a resounding, “Yes.” I will never, ever, ever do that again. I will camp in the stern. I will beat anyone who comes close with the paddle. I may not win, but I’ll go down swinging. We were on the Rio Grand, and my sternsman plowed me into the clay bank of Mexico and then the US and then Mexico and then the US. I have felt the shudder of a boat moseying along, and then STOPPED instantly, me in the brushy overhang. I remember approaching a bend, and thinking, “why isn’t he turning?” That’s when I heard the tell tale crinkle of a granola bar being opened (with both hands). Good grief. It’s harder to steer from the bow, but I usually can. That experience will make it so much easier when I get to the stern.
Teddy Roosevelt went up San Juan Hill. Pringles shall take the stern!
We weren’t the worst canoe, though. One couple went through the second rapid/tight spot backwards. It was delightful to watch them, paddles hovering above the water, heads on swivels, float quickly through the tight spot, and end by thunking stern first, into the clay bank of Mexico. Now that I think about it, they were the ones that, when we first put in, asked which way we were going. Downstream?