What have I gotten myself into…
On saturday I will probably, maybe, more than likely be participating in a punt race.
A punt is a small row boat, popular in Newfoundland during the cod fishing days (all the days before these ones). They are rowed by 2 people, and one of those people is going to be me. It is a 7 mile race from this island to another one, across the open waters of the North Atlantic Ocean.
It’s in 5 days.
I have never row-row-rowed a boat in my life. Not gently down the stream, and definitely not over THE OPEN OCEAN full of sea monsters, sharks and free willy’s… Also might I remind you, that I make pastries for a living. I am basically a human marshmallow. I am a balogne in a blonde wig. Oy veh. Sometimes saying “yeah, sure, that sounds fun!” to everything gets you into situations that can make your butt really sore.
So. I went out with my possible/probably partner Fraser this morning. She is awesome. She lives on the island in the summer, spending her time foraging wild edibles for money and taking guests of the island hiking. She was very patient with me this morning. Firstly I had to just get into the damn boat. I had Vietnam-esque flashbacks of my day in Italy with my sister when I toppled headfirst into a gondola, neon green chucks in the air, skirt over my head, showing the Venetian public and a bunch of fancy tourists my baby blue underpants. Yep.. graceful.
It was INCREDIBLE though! We were only out there for about half an hour. 30 minutes of me trying to keep my oars facing perpendicular to the water, making my Deep Concentration face and mostly just succeeding in splashing about in a circle. But it was so early, and the air was cool over the water, the seagulls were freaking out, and I saw a jellyfish. Fraser said “Don’t worry about being fast, or having the strength because the race is in 5 days so you either got it or you dont, just try to get the rhythm.” Rhythm, and you know, try not to be so magnetically drawn to the rocks.
Anyone in my life for any period of time has witnessed what I like to unironically refer to as “My Sweet Moves” and can attest to the fact that they are not very sweet.. but there is a lot of movement. I put a lot of energy into it…. I do not have any rhythm. I do not even understand where my arms and legs are in relation to my body at any given moment. But I loved it. It was so fun. And felt good to get my muscles moving. And I hit a jellyfish with my oar which I still feel a bit guilty about even though it didnt seem to faze it because they dont have brains or bones. Yep so, I am a punter now.
CB and I are going out for an hour tomorrow morning to give it another go. Yes mom, we have sunscreen and life jackets and a whistle. I just picked up these oars from Mona. She is the lady who’s place I’m taking in the race because she’s had a buggered up elbow for a while and rowing kind of ruined it more. Smiling away all happy-go-lucky while she watched me clumsily stuff these giant oars through the front window of the Buick.. looking.. dubious. Yeah.. I would be too I think. So Im just alerting you now, internet. If I dont blog again by the evening after work, I’m probably in the belly of a whale, trying to distract CB by pop’n’locking in salinated Orca bile. *sweet moves*
Seriously, call the police. Call all of the police.