Eddylines

flood control

A few minutes later, the group had assembled at the top of the next named rapid, where the river split into a long, hustling flow called Freight Train that curved steeply to the right.

"I wanna see some eddying going on as you're going down," Jo-anne instructed, gliding past Daszé with a stern look. "Try and catch the rocks in the middle, or the small ones on the side. This is a great place to practice before we get to the bottom, just keep an eye out for the rafts 'cause they won't hesitate to ruin your day."

"V-vha, I mean, yes, will do!" Daszé stammered, earning a broad smile from his adoptive teacher. 

"Good. And remember, knee up and don't let it down until you're all the way in!"

Marek sculled sideways, turning back upriver as the first few paddlers began their descent. "And keep an eye out for river maggots, too."

"...river maggots?"

"Tubers."

"Oh, you told me about them."

"Yeah, there's a bunch of them behind us but we'll make it through before they do." He sighed, chasing it with an annoyed grunt. "Looks like they pre-gamed, too, they're all shitfaced."

But Daszé wasn't paying much attention, busy preparing himself to enter the rapid. The flat, slow current sped up drastically here, and before he realized it, he found himself in the center of the flow as it dropped precipitously around the corner. Small outcroppings offered sheltering eddies, but most of them were already occupied, and he suddenly garnered that he was moving too fast for his own comfort as rocks, tiny pour-overs, and waves flashed by in the stiff, uneven current.

"I WANNA SEE YOU CATCH AN EDDY," Jo-anne hollered as he flew past. "GET IN THAT ONE BEHIND THE ROCK ON THE RIGHT!"

He turned his eyes downriver from the front of his boat, reminding himself to look where he wanted to go, not where he was going. He'd wondered about all the reiterations of the same warnings, over and over again, but it suddenly made sense as his brain was overwhelmed by this whole new combination of speed and aquatic violence. But right now, he needed to stop, and a big boulder in the center offered an opportunity as he remembered Marek's instruction from their countless lake sessions.

"Aim behind the rock, not at it. If you look at it, you're gonna hit it. Sweep stroke, lift your knee, and then plant your paddle on the inside as you cross the eddyline."

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on the empty space behind the rock. It approached faster and faster as time and space tightened into a narrow cone, and he reminded himself to be patient and time it right.

And then an unseen stone caught the nose of the boat, bumping him off the line.

There wasn't even time to curse, and he reached out to brace on the left as the boat tipped and spun. He hooked the blade into the current, drawing himself back into position as his window of opportunity began to close. He could still make it.

A thrill of determination ran through his limbs. 

He would make it.

A massive sweep stroke brought him back on the line, and he lifted his knee, holding it high as he crossed the eddyline like a knife and planted his paddle. The boat abruptly arced to a stop as it broke free from the flow into the gentle recirculation of the eddy, and tapped nose first against the boulder with a soft thump.

Safety.

This is way too much fun, he thought to himself, enormously satisfied and grateful for the relief as his nerves jangled with electric excitement. It was so different than the terrified, persistent pulses of adrenaline that defined life on his homeworld, and he savored it for a few brief seconds until a beefy middle-aged man in a huge creekboat bombed into the eddy and knocked him back into the current. 

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" the man cried as Daszé spun out of his shelter, bracing and stomping the nose back down with wide eyes as he found himself flying downriver again.

He didn't have time to reply, splashing through a standing wave and blinking furiously to make out the giant granite rockpile beneath the railroad bridge. Another eddy presented itself further down, but it was out of reach, and he knew he'd have to ride the current into the big pool beneath the trestle itself.

A pool already full of thin, glossy kayaks unlike any he'd yet seen.

As he plunged toward them, the prow of another slowly emerged from beneath the surface in the middle of the river, boggling his mind and making it very apparent that he needed to find somewhere else to be.

He lifted his knee, dragging his paddle on the left and veering toward a second pool just beyond the rocks. The boat skidded to a stop in the calm water, settled flat, and he reached out to cling to one of the big stones and catch his breath.

But it was tough to do when he couldn't stop laughing at the sheer chaos of it all.

A few seconds later, others began to spill into the same eddy as the squirt boaters beneath the bridge cleared out of the way for the few that missed it, clearly annoyed but tolerant of the intrusion.

"Yard sale comin'," someone remarked, holding up a paddle to stop the flood of boaters upstream as a water bottle, paddle and kayak floated downstream to be scooped up before the tubers arrived and complicated the whole affair. 

He watched the proceedings, finally releasing his deathgrip on the rock and bobbing gently in place as the situation calmed to a dull roar and the shepherds began to gather their flock and assist their charges in draining their boats. He had time to study his surroundings now, and he took a moment to gaze around at the scenery and the ledge just beyond the pool. Several persistent, wide waves guarded the bend in the river, and a young woman he'd seen paddling with the group was already setting up a curious approach angle.

She paddled hard, ferrying across as the boat drifted backwards, dipped, and then settled onto the first wave, and she began to surf as it were the most natural thing in the world.

The little red kayak slid sideways across the trough, back and forth like the shuttle in a loom until she carved hard, rotating to surf backwards. A moment later, she spun like a lazy susan, facing forward until the tubers came through and spoiled the ride. She turned, caught the eddy in the shade, and then caught his eye with a sheepish smile.

Daszé was utterly entranced.

This was something he wanted to experience for himself, and no amount of fear would keep him from trying.

"Iwannasurf," he exclaimed as Marek finally appeared around the corner, popping his skirt to get at his water bottle.

"Well, shit, let's do it," he said, then took a massive chug. "We'll hang back after the group gets through and try not to get smeared by a raft."

Daszé didn't reply, his attention focused on nothing but the closest wave.