Where I Cane To

I got in my canoe in the waters off of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, to begin my attempt to cross the Atlantic Ocean. There was no fanfare to send me off. That’s probably because I didn’t tell anyone I was going to do it. I tend to be private.

Within a few hours I looked back and could no longer see the coast. This gave me confidence. I looked down at my supplies: a compass, fifteen packs of Twizzlers, a fishing pole, a toaster oven, a mini-generator, and a water purifier. I was especially proud that I didn’t bring my cell phone. I needed a break from checking email.

A few days later, I took a break from rowing and laid back in the canoe. I saw a pack of sea-gulls. The sea-gulls flew down and landed in the water next to me. One of the sea-gulls told me they noticed my compass. They were trying to find Aruba and were lost and wanted my help. I pointed them in the direction of south-west. They appreciated my help. Then they asked me for some Twizzlers. I gave them a pack. They partook and then flew off.

I’m impatient, so let’s skip ahead 57 days. I spotted land. I rowed till I reached the beach. I got out. Off in the distance I noticed an elderly lady sitting on a bench. I walked over to her.

I said, “Excuse me, ma’am. But do you know where I am?”

The elderly lady said, “No, I’m sorry but I don’t.”

I looked around and saw nothing but open space. There were no roads or buildings.

I said, “What are you waiting for?”

The elderly lady said, “Nothing.”

I sat down on the bench next to her.