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Reid’s Crossing

By Tom Light

I arrived at the launch site early, totally stoked on the outrageously warm air and the greatness of Garcia. Terrapin Station had pretty well carried me most all the way from Virginia to Sandy Point State Park. I was meeting Reid, a guy that I met paddling last summer, for an early April outing. The warm weekend had been forecast for about a week and we had exchanged emails to decide how to best take advantage. Reid lived somewhere north of Baltimore, so this site was kind of central and we settled on it. I had paddled mostly in Virginia and southern Maryland, so this was a double treat for me to be getting out in a new location.

I saw Reid’s jeep, or rather his boat strapped to the top of a jeep, just a few minutes after I arrived. He was early, too.

“Man, I didn’t think you could possibly be here ahead of me!” He was grinning like a kid out of school.

“Can you believe this? Shorts, T-shirts, and sandals!”

“I know! And the weather report that I heard yesterday said that it is supposed to hit somewhere around 80.”

“Yeah, I heard that too, though I think that we’re supposed to get a front coming through after that.”

“Who cares,” he laughed, “as long as we have this for the weekend?”

“You’ve got that right!”

We didn’t waste any more time on chitchat; but got to work unloading our boats and getting ready to hit the water. As I squirmed into my wetsuit, I was surprised to see Reid stuffing his into his stern compartment; but I figured he had been paddling a lot longer than I had. That was one of the reasons I was psyched to be heading out with him today. The couple of times I had seen him during the summer, he was an amazing font of information on history and birds and everything around us. He was like the center of a waterborne show as folks clustered their boats around to hear his patter and his easy laugh. I was looking forward to learning all kinds of interesting things about this new locale. And since I hadn’t posted the trip, I was going to have the emcee all to myself.

“Where are we going today?”

“I don’t know.” Reid grinned from behind his shades. “What are you up for?”

“I don’t know anything about this area. What are our choices?”

“Well, we can go south – there are some creeks, then there is the Severn and Annapolis; but I don’t know any place good to land in town. We can go north – the Magothy River’s just a little ways up from here; we could go up the Magothy. Or, if you’re up for it, we could do a bay crossing, there’s a wildlife management area just up a little ways on the other side.”

I had heard about people doing bay crossings and had harbored thoughts of someday doing one myself; but I hadn’t imagined that the opportunity would arise today. “How far is it across? Is that doable for today?”

“Sure. It’s only a couple of miles across, then a mile or two to the wildlife area. I bet that we could make it over to the wildlife area and back in less than 10 miles total, maybe 12 or 13 on the outside.”

“Yeah? I’ve certainly done that before. And we’ll have a lunch break on the other side.” I looked at the flat calm water and blue sky. I realized that I was grinning just as broadly as Reid had been since he first arrived. “Let’s go for it.”

We launched and started heading for the Eastern Shore. It wasn’t long before I could definitely feel the penalty for my wintertime sloth. Luckily, Reid didn’t seem to be of a mind to go any faster than we were already traveling, and when I asked him to raft up so that I could take off my paddle shirt, he looked like he had been working, too.

“I thought that you would be cooking in that wetsuit,” he chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. But you don’t seem to have been immune to the heat either.”

He laughed again, “Just a little too much natural insulation and too little activity in the winter.”

“Did you get any paddling in? Or do you do something else?”

“Nah, haven’t been in the boat since September. And I’m afraid my wintertime activity is limited to hitting the fridge between quarters.”

“Yeah, me too. I thought that I’d at least try one of those pool sessions; but it just never happened.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t feel like I missed too much. How much can anyone do in a pool anyway?”

I had to confess that it didn’t seem like taking the boat to a pool would make for much exercise.

Reid helped me tuck my shirt under my rear deck bungies and we continued on toward mid-bay. It was a funny feeling out here away from the shore - this had to be why people were so psyched about crossings. Even if you paddle a comparable distance, it’s just not the same if there is always a shoreline a couple of hundred yards away.

By the second half of our crossing, we seemed to find a rhythm and started making pretty good time. After a bit of a paddle to the north Reid pointed ahead across a pretty good opening of water. “I’m pretty sure that’s the wildlife area.” It was amazing how he always knew where he was without any charts or maps. I always relied on some kind of map when I was out by myself; but the best I had for up here was a state highway map, so I left that in the car.

I was feeling pretty good; but I was also mindful of the fact that I would have to make it back on these poorly conditioned muscles. “How about if we beach here for lunch and leave that for another time?”

“Yeah, I guess that for a first day out, we don’t need to push it too far. That sandy spot look good?”

It did. So we beached, pulled our boats out of the water, grabbed our lunches and walked up the short, shallow slope. As I sat heavily onto a log, I realized what a good choice it had been to stop when we did. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Don’t know. I paddle to get away from keeping track of things like that.”

“Yeah. Based on my stomach though, I’d say we must be close to noon.”

Reid laughed, “Maybe. Maybe you’re just hungry.”

It was gorgeous out. There was just the hint of a warm breeze on our faces, the sky overhead was blue and it was early enough in the season that the sun was still not too hot. We finished our lunches and sat there content. Even Reid was quiet, just smiling.

I guess that we dozed off in the sun because when we woke the breeze was no longer quite so warm and it seemed to be picking up a bit. I pointed out a line of clouds near the western horizon. “I wonder if they are part of that front that is coming.”

Reid looked at them. “Nah, I don’t see how they could be. That’s not supposed to be here till tomorrow, right?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that’s what the forecast was saying the other day.”

“Must just be something local then.”

“Either way, we’re going to have some headwind going back.”

“Yeah, we better get going.”

“You going to wear your wetsuit this time?”

“Nah. It’s still too hot. But, I’ll put my paddle jacket on deck so that I can get it, in case that really is rain headed this way.”

True to his word, Reid rummaged around in his stern compartment, pulled out a paddle jacket and strapped it on deck. I decided that it was probably now cool enough to safely wear mine with only minor overheating. If that rain got here, I knew that I would want it on. We waited for the remains of a freighter wake to splash against the beach before we launched into the smaller waves of the bay.

Ahead of me, Reid aimed straight out into the bay. I shouted, “Aren’t we going to go back the way we came?”

“No. I think we’ll be better off with a straight line back.”

“Won’t that leave us in the middle longer?”

“Yeah, but we’ll be on the water for less time. If that is rain, we’ll be back in our cars before it gets here.”

I was beginning to wonder if Reid was more concerned about that line of clouds than he had let on. Oh, well. So be it. If we needed to do a beeline dash, then that is what we would do.

As we pushed across the bay, the sky was darkening pretty quickly. The line of clouds was approaching us much faster than we were crossing. By the time we got almost to the first buoy we needed to pass, we also had a pretty good headwind and some kind of short chop to paddle into. I was getting wet from spray and was glad for my wetsuit and paddle shirt. Reid hadn’t said anything about stopping to put his on; but when I suggested it, he seemed glad.

“Damn, you know I had forgotten that I put the thing on deck.” He grinned, “Yeah, I could use it.”

I paddled over to raft up. As we got along side, we each reached out to grab the other’s hull. Somehow, we missed and ended up capsizing toward one another.

The water was cold. Damn cold. Even with my wetsuit, paddle shirt and lifejacket, I came up hollerin’. Reid was shouting and trying to climb on his boat. I know that I couldn’t even think for a few seconds, maybe even a minute or two; but I eventually realized that I still had my paddle and that I was actually holding on to my boat. In a weird way I was kind of proud that I had apparently wet exited just the way I had read about it. That moment of pride gave me some presence of mind. I hooked the stern line on Reid’s boat with my hand holding the paddle and checked on Reid, who was hanging onto his bow toggle, “Reid – you ok?”

He was still gasping hard. “No.” Gasp. “I’m not ok.” Gasp. “I’m in the water and I’m damned cold. What the hell did you do?”

“I don’t know. I just tried to raft. What happened?”

“We ended up in the water, that’s what.”

Reid was visibly cold and obviously unhappy. And though our conversation had seemed to help him get the gasping under control, I hadn’t seen this part of his personality before. Worse, it seemed like the short choppy waves were getting bigger and the sky was getting darker. We needed to get out of the water. “Reid, do you know how to do an all in rescue?”

“What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know, I’d just heard of it, and since we’re all in, it seemed like it might be the thing to do.”

“Very funny.”

“No, I’m serious. We’ve got to get out of the water. What do you think we should do?”

“How should I know? - - - I go paddling. - - - I don’t go capsizing!” He sounded pissed.

This last announcement also took me somewhat by surprise. I had viewed Reid as the expert at these things. Nonetheless, it was growing increasingly clear that Reid was not going to be the one to get us out of this. I tried to think of everything that I knew about rescues and tried hard not to kick myself for never finding time to go to a rescue practice session. “Listen. Reid, I’ve got a paddle float. Maybe one of us could use that and then help the other one into his boat.”

The cold was getting to Reid pretty fast. His words varied between halting and rapid-fire sputter. “I’ve – never -used - a – damn - paddle - float - and – I’ve never helpedanyone intoa boat -other - than - on - a beach. Anyway, Ilostmypaddle, so - it’s - not - doing - me - any -- good - to - get - back - in - the - damnboat anyway. - – I’ll just tip rightbackover.”

I was getting privately annoyed at Reid’s lack of cooperation. But then again, neither of us had a spare paddle and I wasn’t sure what we should do. “What do you want to do, Reid?”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking.”

If he was, it wasn’t obvious. “Reid – Maybe we can just tie the boats together and get on top of them and wait for someone to rescue us.”

“Yeah – Like who? No one knows that we’re in trouble.”

I couldn’t admit that he had a point. I figured that I needed to get him out of the water. “Maybe someone on the bridge saw us.”

“Not bloody likely.”

“But better than nothing. Come on. Help me get these boats tied together.”

It would have been easier to tie two wet bars of soap together, but we somehow got the two inverted hulls tied in that choppy water and I managed to pull and push Reid up over the midships section so that he was mostly out of the water. I still had my paddle at the start of the evolution and had visions of paddling the whole raft contraption to shore; but I lost the paddle while we were tying the hulls, so I had to content myself with climbing part way up between the bows and kicking my feet. Of course the flopping rudders played at frustrating whatever forward way I might have achieved, but that was better than having them trying to decapitate or disembowel me in the chop. I didn’t worry too much about direction. I figured that a straight line most anywhere would get us to shore.

We had proceeded as a makeshift raft for about 10 minutes. Reid was no longer shivering, but he wasn’t saying much either and I couldn’t really tell how he was.

It was about then that the first wave of rain hit. God was it cold – it actually had bits of ice in it. I was almost glad to be partially submerged in the Bay. Reid was getting slammed. After about five minutes, he started laughing, but it was not his usual easy going laugh. I wondered if he might have gotten a little hysterical. I shouted over the rain, “Reid, I’m not sure this is a time to laugh.”

“Damn straight it is!” Reid sat up astride the two hulls with his hands held high and wide. “Yee-haw! Come on! Bring it on!” Then he roared another peal of thunderous laughter. “Bring it on!”

“Reid, save your energy! We may be out here for a while.”

“Wronggg–ohhh Buckaroo! You may be out here for a while! I’m headed for shore!”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s too damn cold to stay out here. I’m heading for shore. You can wait if you want. I’ll send somebody to get you and I’ll drink a beer while I’m waiting.”

“Reid, how do you think that you’re going to head for shore?”

“I’m going to swim, you idiot!”

“Reid, we can’t even see the shore in this rain! Our best bet is to stay with the boats.”

Reid started taking off his lifejacket. “That may be your best bet. But my money is on swimming for shore.”

“Well you’ll need your lifejacket for that.”

“No – it would just slow me down.” Reid sprang from his straddle to his feet and for one defiant second pirouetted in the pounding rain, flinging his lifejacket as far down wind as he was able. Then he dove up wind and started swimming.

I hollered for him to come back and when he was about fifteen yards away I thought that I might have been successful because he stopped his overhand stroke, and turned to look at me. I shouted again and made eye contact as he was treading water. Then, as he was lifted up on a crest, he waved, turned and set off. It was odd, but even as he was treading water, he was getting further and further away.

I pulled myself up onto the hulls and wrapped my arms around one of them. I was doing a lot of bouncing; but it didn’t seem that I would capsize. I don’t know how long I held on. I roller-coastered along until the rain eventually stopped. I could now see the Bay Bridge, but it looked like a reflection of its morning self. I continued to hang on and hope. I tried alternately first to not think about Reid and then, when that did not work, to convince myself that he made it to shore and was sending help any minute.

It was almost dark when a Coast Guard boat came alongside and picked me up. I was too cold and tired to talk or move. They bundled me in blankets, took me to a station and sent me by ambulance to a hospital. Somehow, they got out of me that Reid had attempted a swim for shore. After a night’s monitoring and warming, I was released the next morning.

Later, I found out that a couple of kids on a bus had happened to see our initial capsize and that their driver had reported it. By the time the word traveled to the appropriate authorities, we had already been in the water for a while. The Sandy Point State Park folks apparently confirmed that there were two vehicles still in their parking lot and that’s when the search started in earnest. I’m told that it could have taken until sometime the next day to find me, since I had no strobe or any other signaling device. Even with my wetsuit, I probably would not have survived that long in the water before hypothermia killed me. Fortunately, the small boat coxswain had a hunch that we may have drifted south of the bridge. Making a sweep outside of his assigned search area, he found me.

Lucky to be seen, lucky to be found, I still carry a hollow coldness about. I have taken to frequent saunas, and even sitting and sweating in that very dry heat, my core never feels warm enough.

The Coast Guard and Natural Resource Police searched for Reid for three days. Really much longer than he could have been expected to survive; but many people called the Coast Guard to say what a resilient individual he had been. He was not found and the search was finally suspended.

Reid’s body was not found for a long time. Actually, not ‘til August when he popped up in the midst of a sweet sixteen birthday party swim group at Sandy Point. I guess that might have appealed to his sometimes-strange sense of humor.

Even though I never knew him all that well, I miss Reid. And sometimes when I’m on the water, I swear that I can hear his easy going laugh in the distance.

DISCLAIMER: The foregoing story is FICTION. Any similarity to events or people, living or dead, is unintended and completely coincidental. (On the other hand, the dangers portrayed are REAL and can surely bite you if ignored.)

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