But does that mean the “exciting” adventures always make the best ones? Extreme outings may be permanently logged in our memories and most easily recalled, especially when someone wants a thrilling boating story. But I’m going to argue that it doesn’t necessarily mean those are the best ones.
What about the beautifully ordinary, even unremarkable boat trips? When nothing exciting happened per se: the weather was calm, we puttered around the lake, no one fell in or got hurt. Such tranquil, run-of-the-mill days get filed away in the dusty corners of our mind so that we struggle to think of them at all.
I spent just such a day with my family this summer on Blacktail Reservoir. Just 15 minutes from home, the trip didn’t require a long journey or even a packed lunch (good thing, after that time I lost the bag of sandwiches to the depths). We didn’t crash the boat into the dock. The marine patrol didn’t pull us over for a citation, though we were prepared for a boat check and all of our life jackets were accessible.
The children were happy and all got along (okay, that WAS a bit unusual). A change of pace and time outside does wonders. We spent an hour or two tubing while our towables sustained no holes or damage as the kids bounced along the waves behind the boat. My kids caught a little air when we banked in the turns and crossed our own churning wake, then laughed as the water splashed in their faces.
We let my 12-year-old son drive for a stretch, and he did a great job taking wide turns through the winding waterways. We remembered the sunscreen and deployed the Bimini for comfortable shade. For a change of pace, we moored at a floating dock in a sunny cove and jumped into the water to cool from the summer heat.
My kids had a cannonball contest to see who could send up the biggest splash and I’m only sad I didn’t have those Olympic rating cards to hold up their scores: 8.2! 9.7! We packed a cooler filled with sodas and my youngest son snuck more than his fair share, but I let that go. Boating days help me feel less uptight about my usual mother hen rules.
We came home sun-kissed and a little tired, but with no life-changing story to tell.
Or did we? I admit that whenever we set off on a boat trip, we’re definitely not hoping for engine trouble, bodily accident, inclement weather, or peril of any kind. We’re reaching for exactly the kind of day we had this summer: beautifully humdrum.
The poet Mary Ruefle wrote, “An ordinary life is covered up by dailiness, glorious dailiness, shameful dailiness that is difficult to figure out, that is not always clear until a long time afterward.”
I know I’ll blink and all of my children will have grown up and left home, relegating me to a few lucky weekends of their company that will revolve around their busy schedules.
So this recent summer day is one I try to appreciate instead of overlook, because it’s these seemingly commonplace moments that are the hoped-for ones where we while away the hours in a happy pursuit and return home gloriously safe. It’s this un-noteworthiness that makes such a day worth cherishing most of all.
