Our farm sloped to a small cove on the lake. The beach was rocky and out where the water was waist deep a patch of water lilies floated amongst the lily pads. Their long stems reached down to a web of spongy roots hidden in ankle-deep mud on the bottom. One time at dawn a moose was standing amongst the lilies up to its belly in water. It had not heard me coming because its head was under the water. Suddenly, antlers burst the surface and its huge head thrust upward, a piece of lily root the size of a boy’s arm dangled like giant spaghetti from its mouth.
Good moose food, but not great for swimming. Summer cottagers who came on holiday used better beaches further up the lake. But it was the busiest season on the farm. So, at dawn while we waited for the dew to dry in the berry fields or at dusk when the milking was done, and sometimes at lunch, we would run down to our cove and swim. We would wade out through the lilies into deeper water where the bottom was smooth and firm.
It may have been The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or perhaps my father’s tales of river-drives that gave me the idea of building a raft. It would be a floating platform out beyond the lilies. “That’s a good idea”, my father said, “You can knock together a log raft easily. You just lay the logs side by side and spike them together with a few of those old boards in the barn. I’ll fell the trees for you. Cedar would be best. It floats well. But you will have to do the rest of the work. Good rainy-day project.”
Strawberry season began and the pickers came. Cousins Reg and Ron arrived and we slept in the haymow. We climbed up from the barn floor on the vertical ladder with our blankets and made a bed well back from the edge of the mow. Reg piled some hay between us and the cliff edge of the mow, “just in case.”
The first day that it rained we had the raft finished before noon. We tugged and shoved and got it into the water, tied it to a tree with a length of rope and then pushed it out through the lily pads. Father came by to see how we were doing. “Good work boys”, he said. He pointed out that our rope would keep the raft from drifting away, but that the wind would push it ashore. “You’ll be pushing it back out through those lily pads all the time. You should anchor it out there. If you look in the woodshed, you’ll find that old, galvanized steel tub. Take it out to the raft and then fill it with some of these boulders. Tie the tub to the raft and sink it to the bottom. That will anchor the raft out there all summer.”
We found the old tub and set it on the raft and then waded back and forth lugging the boulders. I was up to my armpits clutching a boulder and I raised it to my shoulder. Father called out, “You’re working against yourself. Lower that rock under the water. The water will do some of the lifting”.
“Water can’t lift”, said Ron
“Well, what’s holding your raft up?” father replied.
We stood in the water holding our boulders and looked back at him.
“Lower those boulders you’re carrying to your knees and then lift them up slowly until they break the surface. What happens?”
We tried this in turn and were surprised. It seemed the rocks got heavier when we lifted them clear of the water.
“Why is that?”, I asked.
Father said, “Well … everything wants to float. It’s just that some things need a bit of help.”
“It can’t float on its own because its too heavy, right?” asked Reg.
“Reg”, father said. “You like puzzles. Here’s one you can think about. You’re saying heavy things sink and light things float, right?”
“Yeah, of course. That’s what they do,” Reg replied.
“Do you all agree with Reg?”
No one objected.
Father held up a left-over spike that we had carelessly dropped on the beach. “Which is heavier. This steel spike or your raft?”
“The raft of course,” one of us answered.
“Well … this spike would sink if I dropped it in the water … the raft’s heavier, why doesn’t it sink too?”
“Because it’s made of wood”, said Reg
“Ahh. I see. So, if we had made a raft out of steel it would sink. Right?”
“Of course it would,” said Reg.
“It would be awful hard to drive the spikes” said Ron, and we all chuckled at the idea of making a raft out of steel.
“Are you all sure about that?”, asked Father.
“Yeah, steel would sink … just like these boulders” I said.
“Well then, look out there.” He pointed down the lake. “See the tugboat. That’s a steel barge it’s towing. Why doesn’t that steel barge sink?”
We thought about that for a moment.
“Because it’s moving?”, Ron ventured.
“Yeah, of course dummy”, said Reg. “Every time the tug ties up at the wharf the barge sinks. Good thinking!”
“Now Reg”, said father. Don’t be like that. Anyone got a better idea?”
“Barges have a big flat bottom and that makes them hard to sink,” I ventured.
“It’s got sides on it so the water can’t get in,” added Reg.
“So, Reg”, father asked, “If you took those sides away … so that all was left was the bottom of the barge, would it float?
We imagined that flat sheet of steel. “Ahh … no …”, Reg replied hesitantly, “… no … I think it would go under.”
“But it’s lighter than the whole barge. The whole barge with those heavy sides on it floats but the lighter bottom piece on its own would sink. Why?”
Ron said, “I know. The edges of the flat bottom would be sharp and they would cut into the water and it would slide under.”
“That’s clever, Ronnie. You’re thinking it’s the shape of the steel bottom … those sharp edges … that’s what would sink it. Well, if we made the exact same shaped bottom out of wood instead of steel, would it float?”
We stood there quietly for a while still clutching our boulders. “Yeah”, I said, “it would float … like Reg said, because its wood. It would be like a huge raft”
“So why that steel barge is floating is still a puzzle. Think of the strength you are using right now to keep those boulders from sinking. Imagine the strength it takes to keep that barge afloat! Where does all that strength come from?”
“It’s got something to do with those sides”, said Reg.
“Well, it certainly seems that way doesn’t it”, replied father. “But you would think those heavy steel sides would sink it even faster; not help it float. Can you make sense of that? … Now I got to get back to work. You keep thinking about this and when you figure it out let me know. I’ll give you a clue before I go.”
“What’s the clue?”, asked Reg.
“Ronnie” asked Father “what do you do when your big brother pushes you?”
“He whines and runs to Mom”, Reg said.
“That’s not what I saw when I pulled you two apart the other day,” said father.
“I push him back”, said Ron, “just like Mom said to do.”
“Did she say to pull his hair too? … Hmmm... No, I didn’t think so. He pushes you; you push him back. Now that’s your clue”, said father. He turned and went through the trees that lined the beach and climbed the stairs up to the field.
I do not recall any further mention of the puzzle that summer. We did have a great deal of fun on the raft. We would swim under the raft and hold our breath and make people worry and then come up where we weren’t expected. On rainy days, we dove, rolled on our back and looked up as the rain dimpled the surface. Reg and I learned that if we lay perfectly still, we could float on our back with our noses just breaking the surface. Ron mastered this as well even though “his body was too heavy for its size” at the start. We counted seconds to see who could float the longest without moving a limb. One still sunny day we watched a gull circling high above. “Look”, said Ron. “It’s not flying … its wings aren’t moving. It’s floating just like us.”
It was that summer, after my cousins had gone home, that I first had a dream that has recurred ever since. I was asleep and I fell from my bed. I braced myself knowing I was about to hit the floor, but I just kept falling and falling and falling. Then I was high in the sky looking down at our house from above. I was wide awake, but I could see myself lying asleep in bed. I moved rapidly and without effort over the farm fields and woods. I could see everything on the landscape below and I could change my speed and altitude with the slightest gesture. I looked down on the village school and the covered bridge. I swung away out over the lake and then turned back toward the farm. Mother was standing in the front yard and I called out, “Look up! Watch this!”. She started waving her arms as I glided down. “SLOW DOWN!” she screamed, “You’re going too fast to land, you’ll hurt yourself”. But I landed softly as a feather in front of her and stopped in an instant.
Then I was lying in my bed rubbing my eyes and mother was saying, “I heard you shout. You were dreaming. When I got here you were laughing in your sleep. Was it a pleasant dream?”
“I was floating”, I said
“Floating?”
“Yes”, I replied, “everything wants to float.”