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Yesterday I got up at seven AM to drive down to Tacoma to take kayaking lessons.
So here is what I learned from that lesson;
- If you ever want to learn how to kayak, do not learn it from some guy named Ken in Tacoma.
- Nothing else.
Dad and I get there five minutes late. That's okay because surely we're going to do a lot of stuff regarding paddling and safety, right? No, apparently that WAS the first five minutes. So I get there in time to learn how to properly get into a kayak... and then out into the water I go. Yep.
Better yet, we're kayaking with the paddles feathered (that's where they're at different angles to cut down on wind resistance). I did not know the diifference between feathered and unfeathered paddles. Because this is a beginner's class in theory and this guy is supposed to teach me the difference. He doesn't. So I'm trying to paddle feathered and I am going nowhere fast. And Ken is starting to get frustrated because holy god, I don't know how to kayak. Big shock.
You see, for a teacher Ken is surprisingly inept at actually figuring out what's wrong. No, he just repeats "VERTICAL" and "nice and eeeeeasy" over and over and over and over. And so he decides that clearly I'm going to have to go to the shore and that's it for me. My kayaking lesson lasted thirty glorious minutes. But suddenly one of the other students (who are all middle-aged and half of them clearly have actual experience kayaking) ends up in the water further down the coast so he has to go get them back in their kayak, so another guy who clearly knows his stuff stays around to help me out.
And you know what? That guy, the guy who isn't teaching the class, did a better job of giving me a vague idea of what I was doing and not making me feel completely inept than the fucking teacher. I was moving slowly, sure, but slowly in the RIGHT DIRECTION. I was starting to get it (though the kayak felt really, really unsteady so I kept getting weirded out).
Then Ken came back and made me go to shore. I took the kayak back and that's it. Dad is more or less demanding his money back.
And four hours later Dad and I rented a kayak, went out to Lake Union, and had a great time, and I had very little problems using paddles that weren't feathered. So I think we're going to try and do that more often. Thanks, Ken.
So here is what I learned from that lesson;
- If you ever want to learn how to kayak, do not learn it from some guy named Ken in Tacoma.
- Nothing else.
Dad and I get there five minutes late. That's okay because surely we're going to do a lot of stuff regarding paddling and safety, right? No, apparently that WAS the first five minutes. So I get there in time to learn how to properly get into a kayak... and then out into the water I go. Yep.
Better yet, we're kayaking with the paddles feathered (that's where they're at different angles to cut down on wind resistance). I did not know the diifference between feathered and unfeathered paddles. Because this is a beginner's class in theory and this guy is supposed to teach me the difference. He doesn't. So I'm trying to paddle feathered and I am going nowhere fast. And Ken is starting to get frustrated because holy god, I don't know how to kayak. Big shock.
You see, for a teacher Ken is surprisingly inept at actually figuring out what's wrong. No, he just repeats "VERTICAL" and "nice and eeeeeasy" over and over and over and over. And so he decides that clearly I'm going to have to go to the shore and that's it for me. My kayaking lesson lasted thirty glorious minutes. But suddenly one of the other students (who are all middle-aged and half of them clearly have actual experience kayaking) ends up in the water further down the coast so he has to go get them back in their kayak, so another guy who clearly knows his stuff stays around to help me out.
And you know what? That guy, the guy who isn't teaching the class, did a better job of giving me a vague idea of what I was doing and not making me feel completely inept than the fucking teacher. I was moving slowly, sure, but slowly in the RIGHT DIRECTION. I was starting to get it (though the kayak felt really, really unsteady so I kept getting weirded out).
Then Ken came back and made me go to shore. I took the kayak back and that's it. Dad is more or less demanding his money back.
And four hours later Dad and I rented a kayak, went out to Lake Union, and had a great time, and I had very little problems using paddles that weren't feathered. So I think we're going to try and do that more often. Thanks, Ken.
