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A Dip in the Pond
Based on a true story by Larry Abele
An automatic inflatable life preserver inflates when a small tablet that dissolves in water is submerged for about three seconds. When it dissolves it triggers a device that punctures a CO2 capsule which rapidly inflates the rescue jacket. If the vest does not inflate automatically there is a rip cord you can pull to puncture the CO2 container. If that fails there is a tube you can blow into to inflate the vest. In this instant the vest burst open after I was in the water for about three seconds. In any emergency situation the first thing you do is nothing. Absolutely nothing. Take a moment, sum up the situation, and decide how to effectively react. My vest had me floating like a cork along side my capsized canoe. The canoe had floatation chambers in the bow and stern so if the PFD had not deployed I would still have something to keep me afloat. So far so good.
I was only 100 yards from shore with a stiff breeze at my back so that was in my favor. My kayak paddle was tethered to my PFD which allowed me to attend to other matters. My pack and cell phone, which was in an Otter waterproof case, was also tethered to the rear thwart of the canoe. The bad news was my whistle attached to the vest had twisted its line so I could not even unravel it and give it a blow. The air horn which could be heard a mile distant over open water was in my pack and not readily retrievable. From now on it to will be tethered to my vest.
To my advantage a lone kayaker had paddled past me a minute or so ago but was now out of sight around a point of land. I yelled for help. I repeated the call about ten times when the bow of his kayak came into view headed towards me at full five knots. I waved my left arm to signal I was, under the circumstances, relatively ok. I was honestly relieved to have him at my side to say the least. We righted my canoe. Upright its gunnels were about three inches above the surface of the pond. Pack, net, worm container all afloat in the canoe. I tied the canoe’s bow line to the rear handle of his kayak and then grabbed the handle. He slowly made way and in five or so minutes my feet touched bottom. With a perfunctory greeting we exchanged names. Jodi had a camp on Osgood Pond and on a whim decided to go for the summer's first paddle. He happened to paddle in my direction and pass by me on a three hundred acre body of water at just the right time. What are the chances?
I took my walkie talkie out of the pack. It had been placed in a baggie for just such a situation as was now occurring. I called my fishing buddy about a half mile away and told him what had happened and he was soon on scene. My car was only 200 yards away. As I loaded the soaked gear into the Outback I realized my fly rod and spinning outfit were missing. Rick and I put our canoes back in the pond and began a search. I was hopping the cork on the rods' handles would provide enough floatation so they would float.
Because the high temperature of the day was predicted to be only in the high fifties I was wearing my Johnson wool trousers and a Pendleton wool shirt. Wool will help you stay warm better than many other materials when wet but it has its limits. After fifteen minutes of searching and now about 45 minutes from the time I went overboard my body decide to start shivering. It does so when the body begins to lose heat faster than it’s produced and is an attempt to warm itself. It is the first sign of hypothermia. We gave up the rods as lost and headed back to the cars. As I was tying my canoe to the roof I notice a pronounced tingling sensation in my finger tips. I have never heard this associated with hypothermia so it is a mystery why it occurred. It was about a twenty minute drive back to the B&B we were staying at in Lake Clear Junction, New York. On the deck I struggled to get out of my boots, wet wool pants and shirt and long johns stripping down to just my BVD bottoms. I was fortunate that no other guests were in the communal downstairs area as any inhabitants of the area would have had to suffer the sight of a seventy two year old man passing through the room close to naked.
A shower, and I am sure each and every one of you reading this can appreciate, never felt so good. I must have soaked for five or so minutes when the smoke alarm in the room mistook the steam for smoke and detonated.
Rick and I headed to Little Italy in Saranac Lake and enjoyed a relaxing meal while reliving the days events. On the way home we stopped at Adirondack Wind & Liquor and paid for two bottles of a tannic French wine. All’s well that ends well I alway say.
Some of you may wonder why my canoe capsized. I hooked a northern pike probably in the five to six pound category. I held the rod with my left hand while snapping photos of the fish splashing on the surface. He then dove and became entangled in the weeds. I circled the fish pulling from every direction but it did not help. I positioned the canoe almost directly over the fish tightened the drag on my spinning reel and cranked. Nothing moved. So I put my body into it leaning to my right. The line snapped. I was in the water in a shorter time than it took for my PFD to inflate. I’ve alway said the manure can hit the paddle or propeller at anytime while on the water and this incident proved my saying true.