Reading water

The first thing you learn in flood water is that the water is talking to you the whole time.

Most people never hear it. They see a flat brown surface and they think flat brown surface. That is it. No information.

But water tells on itself. Always. You just have to know what you are looking at.

I have been in it. Harvey. Michael. Florence. Sally. Tropical Storm Cristobal. Somewhere between fifteen and twenty five storms with Rescue the Universe. Fifty people out of the water in one day during Florence. The youngest we ever pulled out was six weeks old. The oldest were in their nineties.

And before all of that, I was fourteen years old at Katrina, and I was the one getting rescued.

So I have read water from both sides of the boat.

Current, color, debris

Three things. That is what you read.

Current. Not how fast it looks. Where it is going and what it is going around. Water bends around what you cannot see. If there is a seam on the surface, something is under it. If the current suddenly smooths out, it got deeper. Smooth water is not calm water. Smooth water is usually deep water moving hard.

Color. Color tells you depth and it tells you what is in it. A change in color is a change in what is underneath. In a flood you learn to respect a color change the same way you respect a stop sign.

Debris. Debris is a map of what already happened. Where it collects, the current stalls. Where there is none, the current is scouring. Debris tells you where the water has been strong for hours, and it tells you what the water will do to you if you get in front of it.

Current, color, debris. Read all three before you move. Every time I ever got in trouble, it was because I read one and skipped two.

The lake safety list every Texas family should run

We are going to be on the water all summer out here. Lakes, coves, boat ramps, cousins everywhere. So here is the actual list. It is not fancy. Fancy is not what saves people.

1. Life jackets get worn, not stored. A jacket in the bow of the boat has never saved anybody. Kids in jackets before they walk onto the dock, not after somebody yells.

2. Nobody swims alone. Ever. Not the strong swimmer. Not the one who grew up on this lake. Not you.

3. Assign a water watcher. One adult, phone down, eyes on the kids, on a timer, then hand it off to the next adult. Drowning does not look like the movies. It is fast and it is quiet and it happens twenty feet from people having a good time.

4. Feet first, always, into water you did not check. Never dive into lake water. Levels change, stumps move, sandbars build. What was eight feet last summer is not eight feet today.

5. Respect the temperature. Spring and fall water out here is a lot colder than the air. Cold water steals your breath and your grip in the first minute. Get in slow and give your body a chance to catch up.

6. Current is stronger than you are. Around dams, spillways, culverts, and after heavy rain, moving water wins. It always wins. Do not test it and do not let a kid test it.

7. Never chase gear. A hat, a cooler lid, a paddle, a phone. Let it go. Half the people who get in real trouble got in it going after something worth twenty dollars.

8. Alcohol and water do not mix. Not for the driver of the boat, not for the guy on the tube. It is the single most common ingredient in a bad day on a lake.

9. Reach or throw. Do not go. If somebody is struggling, hand them something, throw them something floating, call for help. A drowning person will climb you. Two people in trouble is not a rescue.

10. Tell somebody your plan. Where you launched, where you are headed, what time you will be back. It costs you eleven seconds and it is the whole difference between somebody looking for you in the right place and somebody looking for you everywhere.

Read that list to your kids out loud once before the first trip of the year. Once. It sticks better than you think.

Now the other water

Here is what I did not expect. The same three things read a hard season.

Current. Not how fast your life looks. Where is it actually taking you. Some seasons feel busy and are not moving you anywhere. Some seasons feel still and are carrying you a long way.

Color. What is under the surface that you have been calling nothing. A color change is a change in what is underneath. In water and in people both.

Debris. What did the last storm leave in you. Where is it piling up. Where things stall out in your life, that is where the current has been fighting something for a long time.

And then the last part, which is the hardest part in the water and the hardest part in life.

You wait.

In a boat you do not just gun it toward the person you can see. You read it, you pick your line, you commit, and you do it in that order. Every bad outcome I have ever watched came from somebody skipping straight to committing.

A hard season is the same. Read it before you move. Then move all the way.

What are you reading right now that you have been calling flat brown water?