You want to work out, beforehand, who knows what about canoes and racing.
If you ask “you know your way around a canoe race, right?” and the person you’re facing says, “Yes, my brother and I raced frequently in Summer Camp. It was great”, then you have some information.
But you don’t have all the information you need. Perhaps the questions “Did you ever win a race?”, or “How young were you at the time?” or “Why is your life jacket on backward and inside out?” should have been asked, just for clarification.
I guess the one in the back or the left is about to get a lesson in when to paddle, what direction to paddle, and not get a paddle upside the noggin. Or is that an oar? Paddle is used in the water and an oar is used for tamping vital information where it needs to go? Hm….
Where’s the rain? A family friend had a canoe and my dad sometimes borrowed it to go fishing. We’d all go, with a few others and only two adults got to go out in the canoe. And every time we had canoe it would suddenly cloud up (not in the forecast) and open up. And POUR. [that old silver canoe with some vicks-jar green trim and interior, and Lone Star in blue with a RED star between the two words… may it be composting in peace, that was about 50 years ago…]
I used to go canoeing a fair amount when I was a teenager. I’d been in the Scouts, and we all got training on the proper way to paddle in the front, and the back of the canoe. I’d be put in the back, and I’d always be paired with some idiot that wanted to steer from the front. (Front is power, back is assisted power and steering.) And, the second the other kid would jam their paddle into the water to make a turn, the canoe would come to a dead halt, and they’d yell at me to push harder so they could complete their turn.
I came to hate being paired with people like that. I don’t canoe anymore.
Shaggy looks quite angry in panel 4.
expectation vs. reality
I remember rafting down Boquillas Canyon on the Rio Grande out near Big Bend. Great raft trip with a few white water action bits. I was teamed up with the geek squad. We pushed off when I noticed none of them had paddles. It’s not float along kiddies….you have to guide it or those rock outcrops will turn your rubber boat into tiny rubber straps. Too late to head to shore. I did as much steering as I could while they cowered in the boat squealing louder than a bunch of girls at a concert. A few tears were made but the boat held up. I had a cute coed hugging on to my legs for all she was worth. I felt like one of those barbarians as I held my paddle over my head while she looked up stunned by my awesomeness as Paddle Master. Later I showed her how a master strokes.
Looks like the slacker in the rear is about to get an attitude adjustment.
Technically, he’s not a slacker. He’s just clueless. Someone buy him a clue.
He’s about to get his clue up the side of his head.
We lost our canoe when a tornado came through the back yard and tossed the neighbor’s tree on top of it.
Dang, tornados rarely get the redecorating plans right. I do hope you were okay as well as the rest of your stuff and at least you had a fireplace to burn that donated firewood that was delivered as a massive DIY bit.