“Is everyone alright, can we see six heads?” Shooters asked, dog paddling.
“Yes,” everyone answered.
Shooters did a count to confirm that there were indeed five other heads above the water, apart from hers. “Righto. Everybody but Kylie broke the first rule when in the Canoe – never shift your weight to the right hand side of the canoe or it will TIP OVER.”
Kylie looked pleased with herself because she hadn’t shifted her weight.
Seeing that Kylie was smiling, Shooters bellowed, “Why are you smiling Kylie? We tipped over because you asked everyone to turn around and look at you!”
“Oh, sorry.” Kylie’s smile vanished and she felt like someone had rolled up a wet newspaper and thwacked her on the nose with it.
“We need to right the canoe. I need Mila and Ashley on the top side of the arcoos please. Jess, Jenna, you’re on the other arcoo. The arcoos are the wooden arms that secure the fibreglass armor. Kylie, come here so I can keep an eye on you. We’ll push the Armor back over. On my go, I want you to lift ladies. Ready. Set. Go.”
“Ughgh.” It sounded like a female tennis match.
“And it’s over,” Shooters said as the armor went 180 degrees on top of the water.
“Mila and Kylie, can you get back in the left side of the canoe please and start bailing, once it gets half empty the rest of you will be able to get back in.”
“Rogerhhhhh,” Kylie replied but she delayed her attempt at entry into the canoe for a moment. She dog paddled and waited to see how Mila was going to achieve re-entry, to give her something to work with.
Mila lined herself up beside the empty canoe then descended under the water for a brief moment to get all of her long hair out of her face. Then she rose from the water, hair slicked back, and flicked her head to her right to get rid of some of the water from her long thick locks. Her beautiful light bronze skin shimmered in the afternoon light, water slowly beaded and dripped off her face, and her mouth gently opened to take in her first breath of air since surfacing. She looked like a Bond girl in a 007 film, every part of her body toned to perfection, her feminine strength defined in her upper back and arm muscles as she seamlessly transitioned from water to water craft. Once above sea level, she slowly opened her eyes and stretched out her arms to grab the top edge of the canoe and pull herself effortlessly out of the water. For a split second she sat on the edge of the canoe then glided onto the number two seat and swiftly but gracefully swung her gorgeous runway-ready legs into the canoe.
“Well done Mila, excellent job. What’s keeping you Kylie?” Shooters yelled from the water.
“I didn’t want to collide with Mila so thought I’d wait until she was safe inside the canoe,” Kylie said taking the safety angle out aloud but thinking to herself, “Geez, she made that look bloody easy. I should be right to copy that.”
Kylie took a very similar approach to Mila. After lining up alongside seat Number Five, away from any obstruction of the wooden arcoos, she quickly bobbed under the water to try and brush the hair from her face. But her hair was not as lush or well behaved as Mila’s and did not react in the same way she had witnessed Mila’s hair doing only moments ago. Instead, she rose from the water with her hair completely covering her eyes as if she had been dunked in a splash-o pool at a school fete. With her arms already outstretched reaching towards the lip of the canoe, she had nothing to sweep the locks away from her eyes and came out of the water blind, resorting to blowing it away with huge whale-like spurts of air from her facial blowhole, huffing and puffing and in a very unproductive manner. Her arms shot up out of the water and seemed to emulate the actions of someone who had been told to stick ‘em up by an armed gunman. But, with her sight infringed – or literally her fringe in her eyes – and unable to see her target, her fingers failed to grip anything in time and her arms and body slammed against the hull.
Comparing Kylie to Mila was like comparing the grace and agility of Elle Macpherson to Jabba the Hut. It was not a fair comparison, in any sense. Kylie was, by her own admission, Not Very Bendy and an Unnatural Sportswoman. So any crack she had at being graceful and co-ordinated was cringe worthy to watch. After a failed first attempt, Kylie didn’t give up. She was shit at a lot of things but she wasn’t a quitter. Often she would suck for ages at things before she succeeded. She figured that by the time she achieved this particular goal, she would be absolutely knackered, in need of an ambulance and possibly a defibrillator, and maybe a beer soon after that, but she was not going to give up.
Before slipping back under the water, she placed her hands on the side of the canoe so that this time she could feel where it was and not have to search for it blind should her hair and her sight fail her again. On the second attempt to get back into that long white, high-sided floating fibreglass bastard of a canoe, Kylie leant her head back in the water so that her neck touched the top of her back, thinking this would keep her hair away from her eyeballs as she exited the water thus reducing the chance of failure.
Up she went, out of the water, her hands miming up the side of the canoe, her neck arched back in a very uncomfortable position, and her mouth gasping for breath after only being submerged for less than five seconds. Finding the edge of the canoe, her fingers gripped it in a white knuckle demonstration that she usually only saved for her visits to the dentist. Her left leg took on a mind of its own and swung left, also trying to find the top side edge of the canoe. At the same time, she pulled herself up but, alas, she didn’t have the upper body strength to finish the job and instead slid her entire upper body from belly button to breast then neck and face, along the side of the canoe, pushing her Lycra exercise top up to shadow her Lycra sports bikini top. After two failed attempts she was already tired and, even worse, her tummy flesh was now exposed.
Kylie was very shy when it came to nudity and basic exposure of her body. Even though she paddled with an all girl team, she didn’t know them very well and she was very insecure about how her body could react to certain conditions. Her main fear was that her nipples would stiffen up when she got cold or water logged and would fight their way through the lack of padding in her Lycra exercise top and Lycra sports bikini. Prepared for this possibility, she was wearing adhesive nipple covers on her nipples. Not one, but two sets. On each nipple. Even an Icelandic wind wouldn’t be able to catch Kylie off guard with that sort of areola armour. Yes, she was on top of her game when it came to ensuring her nipples would not turn into five eight bolts after being affected by a cool breeze, but she wasn’t up against a breeze in her current situation. She was literally sliding up and down the side of the canoe. One thing Kylie did not plan on when preparing her nipples for combat, was friction.
“Are you right Kylie?” Shooters asked from the water.
“Yep. No worries!” she replied trying to convince herself and the others that she would succeed.
Taking a few deep breaths before her third attempt, she again placed her hands on the side of the canoe as a guide for herself. She shot out of the water and got her fingers curled over the lip of the canoe and she looked like she had it in the bag. Until the girls started cheering her on. Then Kylie got excited, started to laugh, lost her focus and her strength and slid back down the side of the canoe like a cracked egg on a wall.
“Ahhhhhh.” Her team-mates sounded like a bunch of crows as they watched her fail.
“One more time I promise. But don’t make me laugh,” Kylie said to everyone.
“Righto,” Shooters said wanting her to succeed but sick of dog paddling to stay afloat.
“Come on
