Trip of a Lifetime

What would you do if you were preparing to canoe a 750-mile ocean race for a big cash prize, and someone wanted to hitch a ride as an extra passenger? What if he wasn’t even planning to pick up a paddle – essentially, he’d nothing but dead weight in the boat?

Would it make a difference if he promised not to take up much space?

A six-canoeist team from Vancouver Island will be one of the groups rushing to Alaska in a marathon boat race on June 4. And these goodhearted folks have no qualms about letting a total stranger tag along.

They don’t know his real name, but they’ve nicknamed him “Ash.” That’s because Ash is literally ash. The paddlers (their team name is the Soggy Beavers – I won’t ask if you don’t) doesn’t know where he’s from or how old he was. But they know, thanks to a message in the bottle, that his final wishes were to be cremated and thrown into the ocean so he could fulfil his desire to see the world. (You’ll note we use the word “see” quite loosely here.)

How could anyone resist helping a guy with his last wish?

When the Soggy Beavers first discovered the bottle during a training session in Victoria Harbour, they might have thrown it right back into the ocean. After all, that’s what specifically what Ash requests in his note. But the paddlers realized their new friend would have a better chance of seeing the world if they brought him along on their race, and then released him in Alaskan waters.

“We figured… he’s in the Inner Harbour. Chances are that he’ll stay here for another couple of months before he gets a current out,” team member Russell Henry told a radio host last week. If, on the other hand, they toss the bottle when they’re closer to Alaska, Ash might get lucky and catch a current to Asia.

“He’s got to see the world, so we got to get him there,” Russell said.

I wish the Soggy Beavers a great race on June 4. Your winning spirit is bound to get you to the finish line.

Bon voyage, Ash. May the ocean currents be forever in your favour. (Photo courtesy of Danilo Rizzuti / FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

What’s Good Enough for the Goose…

Baby-bird rescue stories are ubiquitous at this time of year. (Here’s one I posted on almost exactly this same date, two years ago.) Last week, staff at the University of Calgary saved a half-dozen baby geese that had just left the nest for the first time… only to discover they were stranded on a rooftop, five metres above an asphalt parking lot. (Why their parents felt compelled to build a nest here is a topic to be explored in future therapy sessions, I’m sure.)

Lucky for this feathery family, the rooftop in question covered the university’s Outdoor Centre, which happened to be well stocked with gym mats. Once the university folks grasped the problem, they hauled out the mats and placed them strategically around the building, enabling the bird babies to jump off the roof safely. Happily, all five goslings survived the drop and the family soon left for greener ponds.

In my quiet Toronto suburb, we too are occasionally captivated by baby-bird cuteness. On my morning walk a few days ago, I encountered a family of seven – Mrs. Goose, Mr. Gander, and their five fuzzy children – waddling down the middle of the street without an apparent avian care in the world. I stopped to take photos, as did a kid who came out of a nearby house.

Then a car approached. Fortunately, by that point the fowl family had safely reached the sidewalk. Nevertheless, the person behind the wheel carefully slowed right down to a crawl, so as not to startle or separate the adult geese and their goslings. It was sweet to see the driver taking such care.

Now a message to the person who piped in the quirky music for this University of Calgary video of leaping goslings: You put a grin on my face. So, thank you for that.

“But John, I still don’t see any sign of a lake. For heaven’s sake, WHY won’t you stop and ask for directions?”

A Bridge is Built

In February, I wrote about the brief 2002 encounter between Mark Henick and Mike Richey on a bridge in Sydney, Nova Scotia. Here’s the synopsis: Teenager Mark was preparing to end his life. Youth worker Mike saved it. They separated, but neither person ever forgot the other.

Over time, Mark healed, then went on to change other lives – and likely save a good many – through his work with the Canadian Mental Health Association.

It’s a ripple effect of unknowable proportions.

Twelve years after they met on a bridge, Mark and Mike reconnected over the Internet. Mark read a long, emotional emailed letter from Mike, then publicly shared a desire to reunite with his rescuer in person.

It finally happened. Earlier this month, the two men were face to face once again. This time, they were both smiling.

Mark used the word “closure” the describe what the reunion has meant to him. As for Mike, he was all about the hugging. “It wasn’t about words or anything like that,” he told a CBC reporter. “If I could have went back in time and given that young boy a hug when he needed it, that would have been awesome. But I still got to do it at the end of the day.”

Now that the two have found each other again, I have a feeling they’ll remain friends. After all, they share a common purpose in their professional lives. They’re both helping people in need. And even by spreading the story of their most personal moment 12 years ago on a bridge, they are surely making a difference. They’re sending a message.

Yes, it gets better.

There may be a hug in it for you, too.

Hearts in the Write Place

I’ve been interviewed before, but never by a girl in pajamas, never under a patio umbrella in my own backyard, and certainly never by someone who says, “Can we take a quick break while I play with the dog?”

That someone would be my 15-year-year old daughter, who was fulfilling a requirement for her high school Careers course. For her upcoming presentation on a specific career, she decided to interview yours truly about the ups, downs and sideways squiggles of being a freelance writer.

There are challenges to this career, sure, just like in any other. But for the record: I love my job. Although I ranted somewhat excessively in response to my daughter’s question, “What are the obstacles you face in your work?”, I did also have a lot to say about the positive stuff.

Why do I bring this up on a good deeds blog? Because one of the best things about being a freelance writer has everything to do with the kindness of others. See, writers love reaching out to help each other. Maybe it’s because we’re forced to work in solitude, so we get hungry for human connections. Whatever the reason, we writers tend to organize ourselves into groups, clubs, roaming gangs. We network online, and we communicate a whole lot (because we’re, you know, good with the words). And it’s great. We support each other when the going gets tough. (The going does get tough.) We encourage each other to succeed. We cheer each other’s accomplishments.

It’s not all vaguely worded inspiration, either. Often it’s solid, concrete assistance. In what ought to be a fiercely competitive field, we writers are tossing each other gigs and leads like so much party confetti. We’re providing referrals and references. We’re giving a heads-up about deadbeat clients. We’re sharing professional etiquette tips, solving sticky grammar problems, passing along techno-advice. Oh, and we sometimes post writing-related humour just because we all find it hilarious. (Man, Bill Murray is funny when he plays himself. I also loved his cameo in Zombieland.)

How many professions do you know of where the workers are constantly helping each other like this? If you’re feeling it, check out my previous stories about writers and good deeds, here and here.

If I had this much sugar in front of me while I worked, I wouldn’t turn to other writers for a helper’s high. (Photo courtesy of Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net)