MASCULINE SUPERIORITY

 It was the 1995 Baker Clan’s’s annual weekend cookout on Vashon Island, Washington.  The house where we met is idyllically sited on a narrow strip of land along the shores of the Puget Sound, looking across at South Seattle and Mt. Rainier.  This sunny summer day was filled with a large number of families stretching across four generations.   There had been much merriment, good food, wine, and volleyball  

 The older contingent, comprised of cousins in their 50s, were lounging along the beach when my sister Kappy and two other women decided to take a dingy out onto the remarkably calm sound.  The three of them paddled out.  Their’s was a short meander, proceeding in circles and laughter as they realized they had no idea of how to row a dingy in a straight line.  They returned to shore and were met with taunts and Bronx cheers.  

At this point, my cousin Mary’s husband, Larry, boldly stood and loudly called out “Lets show these women how to row a boat”. No one volunteered. “Who is the man who will go with me to show these women how it is done.” Larry bellowed.  Still no one rose to accept his challenge.  Bruce was nearby, sitting against a log, and as always, he was reading a very thick book on philosophy.  Doomed by proximity, Bruce was reluctantly drafted to go for a row.  With Bruce in the bow, his book in hand, Larry pushed off from the shore and jumped in.  It was a shaky start with much tipping as the little dingy settled low in the water.  Larry began to row with flair.  Bruce sat in the bow, head down, reading, apparently wishing to distance himself from Larry’s braggadocio.  Neither were aware of the approaching series of swells, the wake of a passing ship.  Larry could have turned the dingy to head the bow into the waves, but didn’t.  The first wave rocked the dingy causing Larry to drop his oars and hang on.  Some water came in over the side.  One oar drifted away.  The second wave washed more water into the small craft.  With each successive wave the little dingy and the two large men, sank lower and lower until they all slid beneath the surface.  The last thing we saw from shore, as the dingy went down, was a hand above the water with a very large book in it.  

 As the two drenched men crawled back up the sandy shore struggling with the bow line of the submerged dingy.  They were greeted with a barrage of raucous laughter.  Chuckling followed the two of them for the rest of the day.  For years thereafter a smile could be raised among the family by the mere mention of the phrase “Lets show these women how to row a boat. “ 

Copyright 2014 by Theodore “Tod” Lundy, Architect