I missed my third attempt and started worrying about my air. I reached my hands out of the water to get a T-rescue from Rob, but I missed his boat as I groped around, and I panicked, quickly reaching for the grab loop and releasing my spray skirt with a hard yank. I swam to the surface, hyperventilating as the kids cracked up even harder than before.

Above Harp Falls, the day’s first rapid, Rob slid up next to me. “I have a new plan,” he said. “I’ll paddle slightly behind and to your side and call out signals ‘Left’ or ‘Right’ as needed. When you are headed in the correct direction, I’ll say, ‘Hold that line.’ And I’ll make adjustments as the waves and swirling eddies alter your course. How does that sound?”

The idea ran counter to my standard following technique in most other sports, but as there was no manual for blind kayaking—and we were figuring it out on the fly—I agreed to try it.

Nerves clenched my arms and chest as I thought about heading into a jumble of obstacles with no lead sound in front of me to paddle toward, but I could hear Rob right next to me. He seemed to be able to stay close, and that was a comfort.

“Okay, there are just two main rocks to run between,” Rob called out. Responding to his calls, I paddled hard into the rapid, feeling spray in my face as my bow plunged and rose on the waves. Even with the rushing noise of the rapid, I could hear Rob’s commands, and his voice at the end, “You threaded those rocks!”

For the rest of the day, we continued to tweak the new technique, and I was feeling slightly more confident. Whitewater kayaking was beginning to shift from “terrifying” to “almost fun.”

7

After a couple of rapids, Rob suggested he reduce the frequency of his voice commands. For one thing, he was losing his voice yelling constant instructions, but he also thought I should be listening to the river sounds and trying to understand and process the information those sounds provided. It felt like learning a new language, and I strained to notice subtleties: the far-off hush-roar that signaled an upcoming rapid; the slurping sound of eddies pooling above a rock; how the narrowing and widening of canyon walls altered sound and signaled the opening or constricting of the river flow. We settled on Rob only giving me information when needed, allowing me to relax some and navigate on my own.

Rob also tested my awareness of body positioning. “Which way are you pointing?” he asked. “Since it’s the afternoon, the sun is to the west. So where do you feel it on your face?”

“On my right cheek,” I said, “so I must be traveling south.”