Every once in a while, one of life’s experiences turns on a little bulb inside your head and the revelation is enlightening.

Last week, while guiding a kayak trip in Castine, that little flash happened to me. Actually, it wasn’t really a flash, it was more like a dawning.

I had taken a couple of days off from work here to fill in for my friend and Castine Kayak Adventures owner Karen Francoeur. She was off on a three-day trip with a party of eight and needed help running the business in her absence. (Desperate times require desperate actions.)

After the adventures I had on those three days, I may never get asked back! I’ll digress a little just to set the scene. The first day I was manning the store, I guided a novice three-generation party, grandmother, mother and granddaughter. (I’ll use no names, to protect the innocent.)

It was a windy afternoon and I should have cut our downwind leg really short, anticipating a tougher upwind trip home. But I didn’t. Even though I stopped well short of where I might have, we were too far downwind with inexperienced paddlers, a fact that became evident the moment we started back, against the wind. The youngest and oldest of my party were having a tough time trying to keep their boats into the wind, let alone making any forward progress. Time for Plan B.

I decided to tow them. We rigged up lines to the two boats and I commenced a long, slow, strenuous paddle back to the dock. It was a workout, for sure, but the two were grateful and happy for having had the adventure. Next time, I thought, when the wind is up, a shorter trip will be in order. (That’s not the little light bulb, but it was a glimmer.)

The next morning I guided a family of four (two teen daughters) in similar conditions, except the wind wasn’t blowing as hard and the group as a whole was more athletic. Off we went, in pretty much the same direction as the last trip. We made more downwind progress, the group was getting the hang of paddling, and all was right with the world. After a rest and snack stop on a beach in a sheltered cove, we headed back out on the water in hopes of sighting a seal. We’d been paddling less than 10 minutes, and all of a sudden, Dad, in his haste to take a picture, flipped his boat downside up! He had drifted away from the group a short distance to frame his shot.

After what seemed to be minutes (actually it was a few seconds) his hand, then his head, appeared above the boat on the far side from me. In a moment or two, I was at his side and we worked together to execute a perfect rescue. Dad was back in his dry boat in less than two minutes. None the worse for wear, we paddled on, Dad taking the experience in stride, kids getting a good giggle out of it. It was the highlight of the trip, in fact – Dad taking an unexpected, cold, refreshing dip! (Another glimmer of light for me – keep the group tighter so I won’t have to go chasing errant bottom dwellers!)

After two trips and two rescues, it was with some trepidation that I eyeballed my next party. A father-daughter combo, they were novices and she was really nervous at the outset about the prospects of going for a swim. As we went over all the information we needed to go over before getting on the water, I noticed her nervousness and tried to reassure her at every turn.

On the water, it was not hard to read her uneasiness, her tense body language. She expressed frustration in not being able to keep her boat on course while her dad paddled a straight line, repeatedly saying how much easier kayaking was than canoeing. Try as I might, I couldn’t get her to paddle in a straight line. Dad and I both offered encouragement, and I suggested everything I could.

We went to shore, had a drink of water, shared some conversation and went back to our boats. She tentatively asked if she could detach her spray skirt from the boat. Earlier she had mentioned how the sealed skirt made her feel claustrophobic, trapped, if you will, in her boat. When she said, half-heartedly, that she’d wear it as a concession to me, I realized it was something that really bothered her. I convinced her I was confident in her ability, that the spray skirt was not essential at this juncture, and that we’d see how she did without it.

I want to tell you she blossomed instantly. Without the spray skirt attached to the boat, she was suddenly a different person. Her demeanor went from uptight to relaxed, her paddling improved to the point that she looked as if she’d paddled for years! We headed back against the wind and it was Dad this time who was lagging behind. She was a different person! She danced across the water.

And it was her transformation that made the little light in my head begin to glow. Something as seemingly simple as not attaching a spray skirt overcame a fear that was keeping her from performing a simple task. She was so concerned about being trapped in the boat that she couldn’t do what she later proved she could do with finesse.

I began to wonder how many other little fears we might have as adults that keep us from doing things we’d otherwise be able to do with ease. I’m still thinking about it. While I don’t have an answer right now, I’m sure that the next time I take someone out on a trip, I’ll be watching for subtle signs to help someone through a rough spot.

Jeff Strout’s column is published on Thursdays. He can be reached at 990-8202 or by e-mail at jstrout@bangordailynews.net.