Dragon Boating through an Emily Carr painting
Written by Otiena Ellwand
When the paddle hits the water and everything is right, there is a moment of pure perfection, of complete satisfaction. Click. Leaning on the edge of the gunnel, my body tilts outside the boat, upper hand extends, abs tighten, torso rotates, paddle cuts into the water, slices clean through thickness, and it’s out. Repeat.
There’s a thrill to getting the mechanics of dragon boating right. Once you’ve got it, you can fool yourself into thinking that you could keep going forever.
It’s timing that’s the tricky part. You have your own paddle, but you are not solo. Being in sync with the team is more than just watching the in-and-out of the person’s paddle in front of you. I watch for the rocking forward and back of their lower back and copy the pattern. I listen to the orchestra of paddles as they hit the water and I feel for the rhythm of the boat as it blazes forward. Once tuned into the fine notes, I feel attached to everyone on the boat by an invisible cord that goes through each person’s belly button and out their back, connecting one to the other, we communicate energy. We are one solid machine.
“Stretch-it-out-in-one-two-three,” Roman, our coach yells, deliberately. Like a car we gain speed as we merge onto the highway of the ocean. We are soaring, roaring, above the waves. I can’t imagine returning to 40-kilometre-per-hour speed after this invigorating ride.
Out here on the gorge, a sheltered waterway that intersects the city of Victoria, B.C., we’re definitely not sheltered from big juicy raindrops. Still, we don’t call it a day. This is normal, it is British Columbia after all. So we paddle on as the sky above us, thick with clouds, turns a misty gray. White swans swim obliviously by in the distance, like the luscious evergreens that line the shore, they apparently thrive in this weather. It’s an Emily Carr painting. And even though I’m sitting in a boat in my soggy green rain jacket, everything wet, cold and worried about the new iPod in my pocket, I’m smiling because I feel so lucky to be experiencing this. Here I am on the other side of the country discovering how much I love this sport.
With each leg kick and thrust, with each new reach of our paddle, with each stroke, we surge a little farther forward, searching for that click, that release of satisfied perfection. My body feels powerful, strong like the axle of a wheel. It doesn’t think, it just does. And together we go, and go, and go. Together we roll.
Posted by Otiena Ellwand
Last Updated:
May 29, 2010