Either Oar.

Last week, I was up and out by seven a.m. on a Saturday, mind you. I know that for some people that is an everyday occurrence, but not I, especially on a Saturday. But that’s not the point, so anyway last weekend my cousin who lives in Hawaii (not to be confused with the cousin’s who are part Hawaiian) came to visit as well as participate in, of all things, a canoe race. But not just your average ordinary summer camp canoe style slap in the water kind of thing, to be more specific the race was called the Liberty World Outrigger Competition and for fifteen miles she and her crewmates paddled (or oared?) there was a preference to the distinction, but maybe it was just to the object not the action, and come to think of it, she called the wooden thing she brought with her to the mainland in a padded bag a paddle, with authority. The long thin boats, the kind that seat six and have a stabilizer on one side in the Polynesian style, lined the shore of the Brooklyn Bridge Park in Dumbo, in the quiet sunny early morning. Boat by boat the crews maneuvered the vessels from the grass down the stone step seat things over the rocks and into the East River. I was already impressed with their trip from the shore to down under the Manhattan Bridge overpass for the starting position. I would have gotten tuckered out just from that. The rowing, wait no, paddling, look like a lovely little dance. My cousin told me there was a specific couple of things that was called out let the team know when it was time to switch sides, but I don’t remember what it was. I tried to listen, but the traffic from the bridge overhead overpowered what was being said out there in the East River. The East River, incidentally, isn’t actually a river. Someone recently told me this; I think it is because of its ocean water connection and not fresh water sourcing. Hmm, but it’s not an estuary either in case that is what you were thinking, it is a tidal strait. Cue the rainbow and the more you know jingle jangle. It’s all about some learning here. You want to know what else I learned; sitting on the stone steps on a Saturday morning with a book is a delightful thing to do. But wear sunscreen, cause even at seven thirty in the morning, the sun is still ‘a shining even if it’s a bit chilly, and stationary shoulders are an easier target. ...Hut! Ho! That’s what it was, the thing the said for the changeover, and now you know. And that’s half the battle, I guess.