On We Sweep With Threshing Oar...

It takes a certain level of bravado to attempt to float a river in a personal watercraft that is constructed of reinforced industrial grade rubber fashioned into a circular ring. The river holds many challenges and never are journeys down the river quite the same as the journey before.

There is something to be said about the river Faithful. Those lovers of the river who's love for idling a day away by chugging a few brews with their pals while floating down the cool waterway. They learned the secret long ago that the river is to be enjoyed, respected and at a decent flow rate between 300 to 700 Cubic Feet Per Second, lest they either be dragging their coccyx's over the rocks of a low level river bottom or being swept away in a fast moving water freight train.

This majestic mode of personal aquatic transportation usually requires patience, a pair of sturdy rowing arms and a willingness to enter into a unspoken social contract between themselves and the other members of his or her floating group. This contract usually is in regards to the levels of command, cargo manifests and transfer, fleet logistics and the defense of the group from dangers (which may include navigating others away from sticks, trees, rocks, rapids, wildlife and obnoxious fraternity brothers from the local college or university) and finally making sure they they have 'chipped in enough for the rent & shuttle service.'

To begin, let us examine the word "tubing" versus the non-word, "toobing."

Tubing vs. Toobing.

First of all, you are floating in an inner tube, not an inner 'toob.' I'm not sure if it was an attempt by the river outfitters to be cute or if they thought that spelling 't o o b' was close to spelling out 'b o o b' and since 'boobs' appeal to many males, a little innuendo to draw the frat boys out for a day of boobing, er, toobing? Hell, come to think about it...

Hmm...

Oh. Yes. Article.

Regardless of the reasoning, the proper form of "toobing" is actually "tubing."

"We're going tubing, Charlie, would you care to join us?" = Acceptable!

"Hey, Earl, we're gonna go toobin! Y'ant to?" = NO! Permission NOT granted!

Logistical Overview

Tubing is usually enjoyed with either a small cadre of friends or, if you're feeling really up to a logistical nightmare, a large herd of friends, their friends, their mom, their mom's friends and some bearded guy named Roy. You can also go in pairs if you prefer that intimate two against the river feeling.

The key thing to keep in mind whenever you go tubing is that you are accepting a key role, whether stated outwardly or not. Typically in any tubing adventure, you are in essence creating a small fleet of watercraft and it behooves you to realize this straightaway. A well-ordered fleet of tubes should function efficiently enough so that no one tuber is lost from the group (except in cases of arrest, which will be addressed under Jackassery a little later), no one is lost or damaged and that everyone is well stocked with their frosty beverage of choice. Almost automatically, everyone in a group is assigned certain tasks, whether they are aware of it or not. These roles can be combined or interchanged depending on circumstances, number of tubers, etc.

We start off with one leader, usually the most charismatic of the group although they can also be the person who has the most urgent time constraint upon them that requires an efficient float. They are the ones who usually are shouting "stop screwing off and hurry the hell up" or "paddle faster, damnit" in an attempt to keep the herd together and floating on time.

Depending on how much he or she has had to drink, they can almost sound like the stereotypical pirate captain, slurring their goads and encouragements together at will. The leader may be a friend of people in the group, but nobody really likes a pushy captain. Still, subconsciously, they follow along all the same.

Next up, and by far the most important job in any tubing fleet, are the cargo tenders. "Cargo" usually refers to the cooler full of drinks, a bag filled with snacks, suntan lotion, cigarettes or other needed items. Quite honestly, while the position of "cargo supervisor" (also known as 'beer bitch' or 'cooler jerk') is indeed an important one, the work itself is not in any way enviable.

Coolers are not exactly the easiest items to manage while sitting in a tube. The common solution is to attach a floating 'trailer' or cooler tube, where the cooler tube is just that; a cooler in a tube. While this obviously makes you the most popular guy or girl in the fleet (since everyone will come and see you eventually), it is easy as hell for the cooler tube to get stuck by passing trees, rocks, people, squirrels, whatever happens to be in the river.

Think about hauling a fifth wheel trailer over a flooded road and apply it to a smaller scale. That's you, Mr./Ms. Cargo Hauler.

Still, you should be grateful. For while you are stuck with hauling a cumbersome burden, at least you never go thirsty and especially be glad that you are not the next person that we shall discuss, the garbage scow.

The garbage scow belongs to the unfortunate person who has to tie the big potato sack to their tube and carry the fleet's garbage down the river. If you are not an uncultured barbarian who enjoys spoiling the rich beauty of the state's natural water resources, that is. The person in charge of the garbage scow is usually the more environmentally conscious member of the group who doesn't mind hauling the trash for 'recycling.'

The worst part of hauling the fleet garbage is that the bag acts as a bit of an anchor. As the cans collect in the bag, they fill with water and the bag will tend to snag more easily on passing objects or to slowly drag along the bottom. The easy solution to this is to crush the cans or to put the bag on your lap. Either way, be mindful of your load.

Our next group of people are usually the fleet tenders. They attempt to paddle others out of danger, pull tired, lazy or drunk tubers down the river when haste is required. This role is usually rotated between the group depending on personal fatigue or intoxication. They herd the group towards their goal while maintaining a certain flank speed and this usually goes on without notice.

Another job is that of the Chief Medical Officer, usually this is filled by whoever thought to bring the bug spray, band aids, Tylenol, sunscreen or whatever they thought would be needed "just in case." Medical is usually the over-prepared member of the fleet, but is well thought of when "just in case" actually happens.

By far the most thankless job is that of the Sergeant of Arms, the fleet's disciplinarian. The Sarge is usually a seasoned veteran of tubing trips and is well aware of the "river recreation" laws of the state, county and city that the section of river flows through. They know the laws regarding acceptable cooler sizes, where the police usually lurk to bust unsuspecting drunken arseholes and also what the penalty is for blasting one's radio louder than the engines of a 747 passing overhead.

They mean well, but are typically derided for being "party poopers." Usually someone in the Sarge position tries to keep the other members in line when things get way out of hand.

Now that we have an understanding of the fleet structure and individual role assignments, we shall spend some time in the next article discussing the general rules and regulations of tubing and how best to not be described as a jackass.

------To be continued!