A kayak, a snake and a paddler (oh my!)

Aram began Memorial Day breakfast with a fantastical question: “what if we kayak the entire San Antonio River this morning?” My husband is charmingly spontaneous, the sort of person who once said “a canoe? I’m sure I could build that!” And he did. (Its maiden voyage was an important one: our engagement!)

So we set off.

We drove, parked, and walked down to the river. A sign informed us of the rules: no. 1: You should not use an inflatable vessel to paddle the river. We returned to the car where our inflatable kayak lay patient on the pavement, ready for air. We pumped it up, dialoging about the benefits of good faith efforts over giving up, sure that our skill with the paddles would be sufficient.

Almost as soon as the boat was in the water, we headed down a kayak shoot. I shrieked, sure that we would fly down the shoot as water cascaded around us. But our passage was a slow one, and we had to rock the boat forward and backwards to inch down the waterway. We finally reached the end, and it was apparent our boat was sinking. Still, we continued on for a bit, curious to paddle a minute and explore the river.

Good senses finally won out, and as we limped back to shore, we reflected on our efforts, still proud that we gave it a shot.

Then my “worst case scenario, our boat sinks and we swim” (fine) quickly became “worst case scenario, our boat sinks and I am eaten alive by a poisonous snake with enormous fangs” (not fine)—as we realized that, in the water right next to our sinking boat, a water snake thrashed about.

We quickly paddled back to shore and heaved our soggy kayak back to the car, a Facebook-marketplace-find that will now rest in peace.

The San Antonio River Authority signage was a perfect example of today’s Weekly Word advice: communicate the most important thing first.

To their complete credit, the signage started with the rule don’t use an inflatable vessel. The other rules were important but mattered little to us as soon as our boat was sinking.

It’s common sense, but in a list of rules, sharing the most important ones first communicates priority, relevance, and is most likely to capture proper attention. When done correctly, the most important information should be positioned first, and secondary information…well, secondarily!

We don’t do this well. For reasons of politeness, disorganization, and confused priorities, we often hide the important point in the middle of paragraphs, conversations, and emails. We “bury the lead,” we are we conflict avoidant, and we blaze ahead, hoping that our audience/listener/reader will read every word and will realize the same relevance and importance that we understand.

We cannot make that assumption.

Park rules are not always a cohesive genre; their disorganization has led me to question their authority at times. I made this mistake with the kayak regulations and learned this week that it is very important to not kayak the San Antonio River with an inflatable kayak. Their priorities were spot on; rule no.1 was right, and I should have listened up.

Until next week,

Emily M