There is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats
Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
What kind of water baby are you? Whether it’s on a great big sea or one of Canada’s millions of lakes and rivers, a lot of us want to spend at least part of our off season (i.e. non-ski season) afloat. The only question is, are you a puritan paddler (or rower or sailor) or a motorhead on a jet ski?
Few remember what Snackwell Day, then leader of the Canadian Alliance, had to say at his Lake Okanagan press conference almost 25 years ago, but his arrival on a jet ski made a strong (and noisy) statement. And much fodder for pundits and political cartoonists.
In contrast, Pierre Trudeau’s aura was best projected in his Maniwaki buckskin jacket, paddling the silent, mirroring waters of the Laurentians. (It now hangs at the Canadian Canoe Museum in Peterborough, Ontario.) Also quite a statement.
This spring, the Canadian Canoe Museum moved into a brand–new, $40-million temple. At press time, Canada still had no Canadian Personal Watercraft Museum, probably due to the banal generic name given to the machines by the industry that makes Jet Skis, Sea Doos and Wave Runners.
Looking at Trudeau and Day, there couldn’t have been a bigger divide in politics, or water toys. How uniquely Canadian.
Despite spending much of my life on water, liquid or frozen, I’ve only driven a jet ski once. And although (or perhaps, subconsciously, because) I knew absolutely no one with a cottage on the lake that I was tearing up, I felt almost as giddy as I did guilty.
Like many summer cottagers, I unintentionally collect things, including multiple canoes and kayaks and my old Hudson racing shell for sculling in the early morning calm. After the wind picks up, I switch to an even older Laser, with multiple repairs to its baggy sail. When it blows, the son-in-law is a wing foiler. He’s from France. Obviously.
But because we’re an off-grid cottage, on an island, we also require a motorboat to schlep supplies, weekend guests and, once in a while, me to the Parry Sound ER (Once I was bitten on the neck by a bat. True story).
Our motorboat is also used for waterskiing, wakeboarding, and when I used to have a supply of naive, unsuspecting young customers, tubing. So, although we make yoghurt, grow lettuce, and, unrelated, have composting toilets at the cottage, I’m not always walking around the shoreline shaking my fist at jet skiers speeding through swimming areas.
That said, the sound path made by a boat being paddled (or rowed or sailed) is virtually non-existent, which sounds about right to me. Where do you land? Are you a fist-shaker looking for peace and quiet during leisure time, or do you crank the volume to 11 and carve a slalom course between swimmers?
It’s been a long time since Ski Canada produced our summer magazine Outdoor Guide. We know readers don’t just nap in the off season, so we’re happy to offer you some summer distractions in boats, on bikes, along hiking trails or at resorts that offer all that and more. And if you still can’t get enough, it’s snowing in the southern hemisphere.
