Friday, September 22, 2006

From the Archives... 2

It is the 7th of May.

Day 1

Initiative task

On the first day of the COLTS program, we all kind of got introduced to each other & were given a basic orientation to the program and camp. After all the formal niceties were over & done with, Dustin gave the newly-formed group an initiative task: Over the past off-season, the floating portion of camp's waterfront dock had become detached & floated to the far side of the lake. Our mission was to locate the floating dock portion & retrieve the sucker so that it could be put back in its rightful place. We were given three hours to complete the task. Mission accepted, we all got down to work, trying to figure out how we would get this task done the easiest & fastest way possible.

Word had it that there was a low-boy trailer that we might have be en able to borrow from an associate of Charles, the camp's maintenance guru. Since he was gone for the day in Calgary, all of the dirty work in tracking the very useful bit of hardware down rested on our shoulders. We were given the name of a guy who would be our best bet in finding the trailer & immediately, we all went to the office and telephoned him. Robbie grabbed the phone and talked to someone for a bit. A couple minutes later, the tension was lifted: the lowboy trailer was with Charles in Calgary. Best laid-plan attempt #1 unsuccessful.

Luckily, we were bright enough to have already thought of several other possible ways in retrieving the floating dock, so our next best idea went into play. The plan now was to wrangle up some canoes at the lakefront, grab some dynamic rope, paddle across the lake to the renegade dock & tow it back to camp. We all suited up, jumped into the fibreglass floating vessels & skimmed away, skirting the lake's southern shore until we found our quarry.

The floating dock was in impeccable condition, considering it had weathered the winter partially beached on a rocky shore. Upon inspection, nothing appeared to be damaged, save for a snapped link of plumber's strapping which was holding a side of one of the several barrels acting as pontoons for the dock. Quickly, the group debarked our canoes, shoved the dock off the stony beach & prepared to fasten our towlines to the dock.

Shawn, being the gregarious individual that he is, jumped into the water beside the floating dock & climbed aboard the beast, carrying along with him the end of one of our tow-lines. He affixed the rope on a conveniently placed hook jutting out from the side of the dock whilst Anna hopped aboard and fastened the other rope on the dock's opposing side. That done, we then needed to tie the canoes in, ideally, with identical lengths of rope between each canoe and the floating dock. If the ropes were too short, we would be fighting against the lack of manoeuvrability, whereas if they were too long, our dynamic rope's properties would suck up so much of our towing power that the dock would become even more difficult to tug. Consensus rested on one canoe's-length, as it was the easiest way to ensure a decently similar length. Finally, ropes tied on both ends, we jumped aboard our fibreglass tugs & began paddling back towards camp.

What happened next could only be summarised best by one phrase: Gong Show. Both towing crews were tugging with all our might, but by the nature of our progression, we were really just making it more difficult for the other vessel & crew to pull along. As one boat got out in the lead, it would suddenly take the full load of the dock, which was impressively heralded by a delightful jarring of the canoe & the loss of forward motion, tiring out the already taxed arms in the boat. Of course, in this position, the other boat was free of payload, which would allow them to race along ahead until that crew assumed the full towing load with a nice jarring halt. The oscillation continued until we all were getting tired of the ordeal. Stopping for a bit beside each other, we discussed a change in plan: instead of acting independently, we would watch each other & try to match our distances in order to balance the towing load across both vessels. This agreed upon, we resumed rowing right back where we had started, since during our conference, all the headway we had gained previously was devoured by the forces of wind and water-current.

I was surprised at how much the load-balancing technique paid off. Simply by communicating to each other & bearing in mind the other beside us, the whole ordeal became much easier & we started barrelling through the waters in front of us at impressive speeds. Of course, this didn't really affect the amount of fatigue our bodies were already feeling, but the simple fact that we were making amazing gains was enough to boost our morale over our body aches and we pressed onward in determination and unwavering resolve.

Then the wind came. And the rain. And then the snow.

As if God had waited for precisely the right moment to mock our feeble efforts at doing anything, a treacherous west wind whipped up over the Crowsnest Pass, spewing sleet and snow on anything that dared be in its way. Having no shelter in the white-capping water, we decided to make our way closer to the huge stone cliffs to our left, hoping that we would be able to weather out the storm behind a little nook in the rock wall & proceed in our endeavour towards success.

I later was told that our instructors and the 7th member of our team were cheering us on right before the storm flew in because we were seriously twenty feet away from rounding the cliff shore towards a sheltered spot on the beach, where the plan was to attach another rope to the dock & use a truck as additional towing power, making the last leg of the ordeal much faster & much easier. But as they were cheering us on, preparing for our arrival, up came the wind. The supporters on the shore could do nothing but watch in dismay as our rinky-dinky little crew got swept back along our course. Someone ran up to the truck to get the tow cable with the hope of tossing it to the shore-side canoe, with the hope that we could at least be anchored from losing any more ground. It was too late, though. As they got back to the shore with the rope, we had already slipped away too far for any help to be given from the shore crew.

At the end of the day, we arrived on a spot of shore where the highway crossed over on a bridge above. By then all of us were soaked to the bone, shivering & laden with a good layer of wet snow. Nonetheless, we all did our best & because of that we were all in good spirits. During our debreifing meeting, our instructors told us about how proud they were of us & how impressed as well. They said that we were starting off at a very high level & because of that, they will be expecting a lot from us...

More updates later.

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