When I meet new paddlers in the harbor launch sites of Southern California, or people walk up to ask me about kayaking, I usually bring up four things, 1. It's absolutely wonderful, amazing and healthy, it changed my life, 2. It is inherently dangerous--it looks easy because it's graceful, but it has to be learned and learned correctly, 3. Read Deep Trouble--the Sea Kayaker magazine compilation of accident reports. (Like the Navy, every piece of safety gear on a kayak is there because somebody died) and 4. Join California Kayak Friends, a local group that often holds rescue practices. (and if they want to make their own kayak, I tell them to google Nick Schade, Guillemot, wooden kayaks....)

And the glimmer goes right out of most of their eyes, not because they're scared, but because they think I'm such a downer. I think Robert's advice to his friend was right on target. One guy I met, no life jacket, no skirt suggested we paddle together. Sorry.

These guys want to be like us (manly, good looking, having a wonderful time. Everyone loved Flipper. Well, Flipper was a pet, I know real dolphins, sea lions, pelicans, seagulls and whales.) Somehow people think they can skip the necessary steps, or that walking into Costco and seeing stand-up paddle boards on sale means anyone can do it after they buy it. (How about "Of course I can swim, I just bought a swim suit!" "Of course, I just bought a piano....)