Author unknown

It takes a lot of planning to be able to accumulate a kayak collection. For those of you who have not yet begun to accumulate your collection I would like to suggest a strategy for your consideration. This strategy is to be used when your significant other, be they he, she, or undecided, does not share your passion for acquiring kayaks.

First of all, let us consider the psychology of a person as their partner brings a kayak home. It is important to note that the first kayak is greeted with considerable enthusiasm by the partner, and they may even brag about it to their friends. “The new kayak will be great for paddling to work and getting exercise.”

It is important to let your partner know that this is an estuary kayak and to be fully able to exercise, paddle on the rough waters in your area, and on the great wilderness waters, a rugged kayak is also going to be necessary. “Why can’t you paddle in the surf with the same kayak?” they say. “I really think you could if you wanted to.” You will then need to explain the difference between an estuary kayak and a sea/white-water kayak and your partner will finally agree that you probably do need another kayak.

Now that’s the typical situation the new collector faces. He or she will start with a base of two kayaks, their partner granting them the benefit of the doubt that two kayaks are actually needed. After the second kayak the argument that you need a new kayak will be dismissed by your partner with an upward roll of the eyeballs and a big sigh. We are talking only Third kayak here, remember, nothing more. If you are newly together, upward-rolling eyeballs and big sighs may seem formidable obstacles, but they’re really not that serious. Go buy the kayak and bring it home. The eye-roll and big sighs will let up after a few days.

Now comes the biggie – the Fourth kayak. With the mere mention of your need for a fourth kayak, the partner skips right over the eyeball-rolling and big sighs and goes directly to a recital of your deficiencies of character, weird quirks, and all sins committed to date. They will bring up such matters as saving for retirement, the fact that they are still wearing the clothes their parents bought them in high school, the threatening note from the electric company, etc. “And you want another kayak!” they will finish, the sarcasm flickering about the room like sheet lightning.

The fourth kayak is the tough one, and in the face of this assault, there is always the temptation to sneak in the fourth kayak. That is a mistake. Your partner’s knowing you purchased a fourth kayak is essential to further development of your kayak collection. Here’s why. After you bring the kayak home and show it to your partner, they will shake their head and say, “I don’t know why you need all those kayaks”. Note that they don’t say “four kayaks” but rather the vague and general “all those kayaks”. Henceforth, they will think of your kayak collection not in terms of specific numbers, but as a single collective entity – all!

To thoroughly grasp this important concept, suppose your partner is looking at the kayaks. “You and all your kayaks”, they might say, possibly with a very tiny tolerant smile. What they fail to notice is that there are now five kayaks! Once the psychological barrier of the fourth kayak is crossed, the kayak collection can be expanded indefinitely without the partner noticing, provided you use some common sense and don’t add too many kayaks at once. Two to three a year is about right, spaced at decent intervals.

There is one pitfall in this strategy – the area the kayaks are stored in. Although your partner will never bother to count the kayaks, they will notice three empty spaces. Therefore, you must make sure that there are always three empty slots, even as your collection expands from four to forty kayaks. If you plan on enlarging your collection, select a storage area that can be expanded by adding on new sections, so that there are always three or more empty slots. It works.

But how do you get all those kayaks into the house without your partner’s knowing, you ask. Actually, it is alright if every few years you simply walk right into the house and say, “Look, dear, I bought a new kayak.”

“Neato,” they will say. “I’m ecstatic. Now tell me, what did you want to buy another kayak for when you already have all those kayaks? I’ll bet you haven’t [paddled] most of them in the past five years.”

Paddle them? Yes, a partner will actually say that. They will not be able to comprehend that you needed the kayak because you needed it. They will not understand that you need the kayaks just to be there, to be your kayaks, to be looked at and fondled from time to time. They will not be able to fathom that you need the kayaks even though you don’t need to paddle them. Tell them a kayak collection is like the wilderness. Even though we don’t use all of it all the time, we need to know it’s there. Probably it won’t do any good to tell them that, buts it’s worth a try.

Stating the simple truth often works in explaining an occasional kayak purchase. But why take unnecessary risks? Go with your best lie and get the kayak stashed in your expandable storage area as quickly as possible.

Oddly enough, there are a few really good lies for explaining the purchase of a new kayak. There’s the classic “A Fantastic Bargain” of course, in which you will tell your partner that the kayak you just paid $600 for was on sale for $27.50. If their eyebrows shoot up in disbelief, you mention that three men in white coats showed up at the kayak shop and led the manager away before he could slash the prices on the rest of the kayaks. Indeed, you say, you could have picked up five more brand-new kayaks for a total of eighty-five dollars, but you didn’t want to take excessive advantage of a crazy person.

The “Play on Their Sympathy Ploy” works well on young, inexperienced partners. It goes something like this: Rush into the house wiping tears of joy from your cheeks. Then cry out “Look, look! A person at work sold me this kayak. It’s identical to the one my grandfather gave me on his deathbed. Gramps said to me, ‘I’m givin’ you ol’ Betsy here, because every time you paddle it, you will remember all the good times you and I had together’. Oh, how I hated to sell that kayak to pay for mother’s operation! But now I’ve got one just like it! Or maybe it’s even the same kayak! Do you think it might actually be the same kayak?”

Warning! Don’t try the Sympathy Ploy on your partner if you have been together for longer than five years, unless you want to see a person laugh themselves sick. It’s a disgusting spectacle, I can tell you.

The “Fantastic Investment” lie will work on occasion provided you lay the ground work carefully in advance. “That ol’ Harvey Schmartz is a shrewd one,” you say. “He bought this classic Lightning Whizzer for six hundred dollars as an investment. Three weeks later he sold it for eighty-seven thousand dollars! Boy I wish I could lay my hands on a Lightning Whizzer. We’d sell it when we retire and buy us a condo in Aspen and tour Europe with the change.”

After you’ve used up all your best lies, you are left with only one option. You must finally screw up your courage, square your jaw, and make up your mind that you are going to do what you probably should have done all along – sneak the new kayaks into the house.

Here are some proven techniques for kayak-sneaking:

•​The Surprise Party – You arrive home and tell your partner that you have to go to a surprise birthday party for one of your [paddling] partners and picked up a special cake on your way home. “Oh, how clever!” they will exclaim. “A birthday cake shaped like a kayak!” This is also known as “The kayak-in-Cake Trick.”

•​The Lamp – You buy a lampshade and attach it to the seat of a new kayak. “Look, sweetheart,” you say to your partner. “I bought a new lamp for the living room.” They gag.”Not for this living room,” they growl. “Take it to your kayak shop and don’t ever let me see that monstrosity again!” A variation on this ploy is to tie picture wire to the new kayak and call it a wall hanging (this works especially well with antique kayaks)

•​The Loan – A [paddling] friend shows up at your door and hands you your new kayak. “Thanks for loaning me one of your kayaks,” they say. “I’ll do the same for you sometime.” Make sure your accomplice can be trusted, though. I tried “The Loan” with a friend one time and he didn’t show up at my door with the kayak for a month, on the day after first snowfall, as I recall.

•​Spare Parts – Disassemble the kayak and carry it home in shopping bags. Mention casually to your partner that you picked up some odds and ends from the junk bin down at Joe’s kayak shop. If there is a question about the frame, you can explain that you found it at the dump when you were taking the trash. Works like a charm! [This technique lends itself especially to folding kayaks].

Hope the above ideas are helpful in building your kayak collection.