How I Met My True Love

December 2003 - January 2004

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
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by Nick Jones

Nestled ashore on the recently exposed rocky shallows of Georgian Bay, near Bayfield Inlet, the result of low water levels on the Great Lakes.

2001 was one of the toughest and also one of the best years of my life.

In the spring, my partner and I ended an eight year relationship. Although we had enjoyed good times together, we were not meant to be. As things go, our breakup was hard and we headed off in separate directions. By the summer she was heading out to Peru for a trip to Machu Pichu and I was living temporarily in a Bed & Breakfast on idyllic Toronto Island.

It was in the previous fall of 2000 that I had purchased my first kayak—a yellow, 14 foot, polymer Necky Looksha Sport with no front hatch. I had found it at Trailhead on King Street in Toronto during their end of season sale. I’m still not sure why I made the purchase. I had been walking around the store, as I often like to do in outdoor gear stores, and had asked about one of the kayaks on display. The next thing I knew, I was downstairs in the storage room looking at racks of kayaks—kevlar, fibreglass and polymer boats of various sizes and shapes. At the time I didn’t know much about the differences between boats and rationalized that my first boat—I had somehow suddenly decided to buy one—should ideally be short and polymer (given that I was probably going to be bumping into things a bit at first).

My little yellow Necky fit the criteria and looked pretty cute, and so I put down a deposit on it and a nice Nimbus paddle that was also on sale.

Events took their course with my relationship the following spring and before long I found myself moving out to Toronto Island.

Once I had settled in to my new accommodations, I went to Trail head to pick up my boat. Given my location on the island, and Trailhead’s proximity to the waterfront, I bought a small, 2-wheel kayak cart and proceeded to tow my kayak through the downtown streets of Toronto, much to the amusement of pedestrians. Although I considered paddling across to the island, I thought it would be prudent to save my first paddle for the more protected waters on the island side of the harbor. As a result, I loaded the kayak onto the Queen City Yacht Club tender (I was a member of the club that summer) and enjoyed a quick ride across the harbor with my kayak firmly strapped to the roof of the boat.

My family had owned a Klepper folding kayak when I was a child, and we had also spent a lot of time canoeing, but I had never solo kayaked before. Nevertheless, and admittedly with some concern, I put on my life jacket, climbed into my new kayak, slid down the dinghy launch ramp at the club and started what I now realize was a whole new phase of my life.

The rest of the summer of 2001 was spent re-awakening my love of the water, nature and the peaceful pursuit of paddling. I kayaked almost every other day along the channels and shores of Toronto Island. I took several weekend courses with the Harbourfront Canoe & Kayak Center in Toronto, went on weekend trips with Black Feather Adventures in Parry Sound and undertook a 7 day trip on Lake Superior. I was so in love with the sport that I even began considering moving out to Vancouver Island to take a kayak-guiding course and to start a whole new life on the West Coast.

It was during one of the weekend courses in Toronto, however, that I also met Tara. In hindsight, I remember thinking she was a very attractive, fun and interesting person. We had a good time during the course and at the end of it—in a digital-age appropriate way—we exchanged emails with the promise of going kayaking together some weekend.

We soon spent a day paddling around Toronto Island chatting about life, the universe and everything. As it turned out, she had also recently ended a relationship and was dealing with the thought of dating and meeting someone new.

The rest, as they say, is history.

We started dating later in the fall and fell in love. By the spring of 2002 I proposed, Tara said yes and we were soon talking about going to Fiji to kayak for our honeymoon. We even agreed that instead of buying an engagement ring, we would buy ‘engagement kayaks’ for each other the following summer.

After much test paddling with about 20 different boats and paddles, Tara is now the proud owner of a beautiful red and yellow Nimbus Solander Plus and I am the happy owner of a yellow, white and blue Seaward Quest. Both boats were ex-rental boats from White Squall in Parry Sound and although somewhat scratched up, they were in sound shape.

The summer of 2002 was a great summer of trips both locally in Toronto Harbor and further afield in Georgian Bay in Massassauga Park and also Byng Inlet. We even went as far as the Exumas (Bahamas) for kayaking in the Spring of 2003.

So what is the moral of this tale (if there is one)?

Maybe it’s that I think I’m very blessed and feel like the luckiest person alive. I rediscovered a sport I truly love and that brings me great joy and peace. And I met the most important person in my life—my partner, mother of our future kids, friend, lover and paddling partner for life.

You never know, the next time you go paddling, you just might meet that one special person. I hope you do.

© Nick Jones lives in Toronto. nick@jones.ca. Jones Consulting: www.jones.ca.

Editor’s Note: See Nick’s story of the Exumas trip in our last issue, available at Back Issues on our website.