By edanThis morning I was in a low mood, and I could feel myself needing to do something about it. I’ve recently moved to the Isle of Man, and it’s such a great place for outdoor activities that it felt silly to stay shut up in the apartment. So I more or less forced myself out the door. I went to the storage container, pulled out my purple Fluid Spice kayak, got my wetsuit ready, and drove down to Port Erin.
Port Erin is a beautiful little bay, a proper seaside village feel to it, and I parked right by the beach and got my kit on there. The sea looked lively enough. The waves were quite bumpy, but not breaking, and the wind was coming straight at me. My kayak isn’t a sea kayak, so paddling out was a bit tougher than I’d hoped. I didn’t go too far, just out into the bay and back, and I was only on the water for about half an hour. Even so, just being there, close to the sea and the weather, already felt like I was waking up a bit.
When I came back in, I decided to attempt a kayak roll. It would have been my first one in nearly twenty years. It took me a while to work myself up to doing it, if I’m honest. I knew I wasn’t as flexible as I was back then, and I knew my technique probably wouldn’t be there either. Still, I tried.
I failed miserably.
It was disappointing. I was close to the beach, so it wasn’t dramatic, but I could feel that I was out of shape and out of practice. I probably panicked more than I normally would have done as well. In the end I just dragged the kayak back onto the beach, feeling a bit ridiculous and a bit annoyed with myself.
But the strange thing is, that wasn’t the end of the day at all. If anything, it seemed to spark something. I’d been reminded that I still want this kind of life, even if I’m rusty at it. So instead of just packing up and going home, I went into a local outdoor activities centre there by the beach and booked myself onto a course to learn to sail dinghies again, one-man or two-man boats, lasers, that sort of thing. I had sailed dinghies many years ago, and after feeling the wind in Port Erin Bay, it struck me that it could be a lot of fun to pick back up. It also felt like a good way to get more familiar with open water, and maybe meet some new friends as well.
After that I had a cup of tea and a slice of lemon drizzle cake in a little café by the same beach. That felt well earned. I sat there with that quiet mix of disappointment and satisfaction you get when something hasn’t gone to plan, but you still know the day mattered.
Then I took the slow way back to Douglas, driving through the mountains and through Foxdale, stopping now and then to note a few potential bike and enduro tracks. The mist kept shifting, and the weather was doing what it does so well on the Isle of Man, changing all the time, one view folding into the next. By then my mood had completely lifted.
What the day gave me was more than exercise. It reminded me that I always feel better when I touch base with nature and the outdoors. Even after a failed roll, even after feeling stiff and out of practice, I ended the day feeling positive and reaffirmed. I love adventure. I love adrenaline. And sometimes I just need to be reminded of that.