Finding the Keel
What Georgian Bay Taught Me About Staying Upright
There is a deceptive calm to open water. On a clear summer afternoon along Georgian Bay, the beauty feels infinite pink granite, sparkling fresh water, and beachgoers soaking in the sun. But anyone who knows the bay knows that tranquility can vanish in an instant.
I recently published a story on Medium, The Moment the Water Turned, about a day on the bay when a sudden storm, crossing wakes, and bad timing flipped our boat into the frigid May waters. In a fraction of a second, we went from navigating waves to surviving them.
When the water turned wild, I was sitting at the bow with my paddle held flat against the side, trying to do the one thing that mattered in that chaotic motion: steady the keel.
In boating, the keel is the silent, unseen weight beneath the surface that prevents a vessel from capsizing. It doesn't stop the waves from hitting, nor does it quiet the wind. What it does is provide a center of gravity, a counterweight to the instability above.
When we flipped that day, it wasn't because the water was rough; it was because we lost our balance before the keel could do its work. Floating in that cold water, waiting for rescue, you realize very quickly what keeps you grounded when everything else gives way. A life jacket keeps your body afloat, but it’s respect for the water and preparation before you ever leave the shore that acts as the true keel for your life.
Whether we are paddling through unpredictable waters or navigating the sudden shifts of daily life, we all need a keel. We need those unshakeable foundations—our preparation, our core values, our faith, and our hard-earned respect for the forces around us, that keep us steady when the surface turns crazy.
If you’d like to read the full narrative of that day on the bay, the near-drowning of a child, and the unexpected rescue in May, you can read the complete essay here:
.png)
Comments
Post a Comment