Going to Water

The Cherokee have a saying: “going to water.” It’s a phrase that refers to their tradition of going to water early in the morning to submerge themselves. It is an ancient tradition that connotes healing and cleansing. It was a way to wash away negative things like anger or bad thoughts so that the person would be renewed. The season did not matter—summer or winter—it was still practiced. It was a way to pray and connect with the natural world. 

For the Cherokee the water would always be a creek or river. According to Cherokee cosmology this would be part of the “Long Man,” whose head was in the mountains and whose feet were in the ocean. The “Long Man (or person)” was the one who provided the water that offered cleansing, health, and rituals or medicine that drove away bad thoughts. So it was not just a matter of ‘getting wet’ but of renewing the vitality of life. [See the article Cherokee Stories Tell of Water’s Wisdom by Susan Stafford Kelly in Our State magazine, November 21, 2016] 

The notion of ‘going to water’ struck me recently in a new way. With the abundance of rivers and lakes in east Tennessee, I had decided that I would purchase a kayak. I like to be on the water. I find it calming and restorative. I find the rhythm of paddling helps to bring about a reflective frame of mind. Watching birds and turtles and maybe even an otter or beaver afford a closer connection to nature that one might find in other ways. 

There is a manufacturer near where I live these days. Every year they have a warehouse sale on a variety of kayaks. Last year a good friend and her family went out and bought one for all of them. I sort of felt as if I were missing out somewhat. 

So this year I decided I should take advantage of it. I chose a sit-on-top model that is ten feet long and included the paddle. Don’t want to be up the creek without … never mind. 

I had also bought some tie-down straps on my way out to the warehouse because wrestling the new boat is a challenge. Last thing I would want is for it to start taking a trip without me! 

I had signed up for a sunset paddle at a nearby state park. I thought it would be good to start with a group. It was closeby and affordable. I was eager to go to the water and get my first taste in my own kayak. 

Life being what it is—which is to say, unpredictable—that maiden voyage did not happen. The activity leader had a family situation that required a cancellation. I was disappointed, of course. But I know how these things happen. In fact, later that evening I was checking the weather radar and we would have been in the midst of a major thunderstorm—in the dark! Probably providential that it did not come off. That may not have been the best way to launch my kayak. 

The other thing that went with that is that a boat needs a name. Going out in a boat without a name is bad luck—ask any Navy family. Sailors have long known that a vessel is more than just a piece of equipment. We tend to make a big deal out of launching a ship and giving it proper attention.

So what to name this kayak. Had to come up with that before I would take it out on the water. It’s a bright blue so there were names along that vein that sprung to mind: Blue Bayou, Lil’ Blue Boat, or Bloat—a combination of blue and boat—didn’t entertain that one too long. It was something that I would have to like since I’d be living with it for the foreseeable future. 

So it struck me that this kayak would be a way that I would be ‘going to water.’ Not in the same sacred way that the Cherokee would do, but it would have some of those same effects on me—peacefulness, a way of cleansing, a restorative practice, a closeness to water and nature, a way to be outdoors. 

I decided to name my kayak Ama—which is the Cherokee word for water. It has a soothing sound. It connects with its purpose. It will be a continual reminder to give thanks for the gift of water and the health to enjoy it. It will be meaningful to me.

Now that it had a name I needed to find a time to launch it for its maiden voyage. I choose to launch from Suttree Landing in Knoxville. My plan was to paddle up towards Otter Island, circle it, and come back down past Dickinson Island, to the launch. 

It was a bright sunny day. Saw some turtles sunning themselves on some logs. Saw a Belted Kingfisher. Saw a couple of others out paddling. Saw planes practicing take-offs and landings at DKX. Didn’t make it all the way around the island. I figured a couple of hours out on the water would be enough. So I shortened the original plan to avoid overstraining myself first time out. 

Paddling downstream was considerably easier, of course. Getting Ama back in the launch and back on the Hikermobile was a fairly simple process. While not the anticipated maiden voyage, this one was a good start. I was delighted. 

There will be many more times that Ama and I will be ‘going to water’ in the days ahead. Hopefully each time will be refreshing. Each time I will give thanks for water and this new way to enjoy and connect with it.