Today was the great Kayaking Experiment, which turned out to be a success. I was slightly misled about where said kayaking was taking place, however. The company's name was Billington Sea Kayaking, which I read as "Billington - Sea Kayaking," but which was in fact "Billington Sea - Kayaking." In other words, I went kayaking on the Billington Sea rather than kayaking on the sea with Billington. Who knew that Plymouth boasted an inland sea? All 300 acres of 11-foot deep water of it right there smack dab in the middle of the South Shore for anyone to kayak on. Crazy.
I made it to the kayak shop successfully right at 10am and while I was waiting for the gang I talked to Ross and Ben about pirates, the merchant marine, and the idiocy of gun control laws that ban only scary-looking guns but not weenie-looking ones that are just as deadly. Then Ross showed me all sorts of paddles and I learned about surface area and wind resistance & stuff, and then I learned all about dry suits and wet suits and neoprene and polar fleece and lycra. Then the gang showed up and Ben and Alex taught us how to get into the kayak from the dock, which truly was easier than it looked, and no one fell in, not even me or M. We all got into the kayaks and paddled around for an hour and a half, bumping into each other and getting splashed, and it was awesome.
My kayak was a yellow-orange-red 12.5' Riot Edge, which I christened The Billington Sea Flame, and I am now ready to load her up with grog and my arsenal of knitting needles, and take to the Seven Seas in search of plunder and glory. I'll take that Letter of Marque now, Mr. President. Pirates of the world beware: Don't mess with me and the Sea Flame, or you'll get 14 inches of Boye Aluminum size 13 right in the eye.