Six of us launched off the site near Chimney Bluffs State Park: Rick, Peter, Larry, Bob,
Aneta, and Robert. At first we had to force our way through what looked like cream of
broccoli, but soon the river widened and the passage was clear. Not sure of the conditions
on Lake Ontario, we proceeded to the outlet. It was windy, and we could see white caps.
Nevertheless, we passed through a channel dividing the peaceful bay from the raging lake,
and we paddled out into the open water.
While Bob was in his element, the experience was new for at least three of us. The 1 to 2
foot waves rocked us constantly in between the incoming 3 to 4 foot swells. The lake was
roaring and no conversation was possible. As a matter of fact, the only possible activity was
paddling for survival. I have never been in rougher waters, nor had I ever imagined it
possible. On the way to the Bluffs we paddled along the shore, although a fair distance from
it. The swells were approaching from the right at 1 o’clock. Each time one came near, it
towered over me, and it looked like it would swallow me whole. However, each time my
kayak climbed the wave, and I no longer faced the wall of water. Now I was looking down
into a deep dark pit, which I inevitably crashed into with a big splash, yet still afloat. Every
so often I’d look at the others. Up and down they went in violent thrusts being splashed
from every direction. They would be there one second, and they would disappear within the
next. Just as I start to worry, they would emerge atop of a wave, the bow and the rear of
their kayaks suspended in the air. Then they’d come down bow first.
We paddled past the Bluffs and turned around. It was a different experience, since now the
waves were coming from the left at 7 o’clock. I could see them out of the corner of my eye
and, once on top, they carried me forward fast and far. As we were about a mile away from
the outlet, far out on the lake we spotted a lone kayaker paddling in the opposite direction.
It wasn’t just some crazy kayaker. It was Greg. Either he didn’t see us, or he was really set
on seeing the Bluffs. We continued back and stopped at the beach by the outlet. Some of us
rested, while the others surfed the waves. Finally, Greg returned safely having managed to
photograph the Bluffs. All together now, we paddled back.
Comparing notes, this is what we arrived at: two kayakers admitted to being nauseous and
lightheaded, three to being scared, and one to getting sick twice. Bob admitted to nothing,
he just grinned ear to ear. Still, all of us were glad to be there. It was an amazing and
exhilarating experience.
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