Oh don’t get me wrong, it was romantic like the ending of The Blue Lagoon, we just weren’t stranded, desperate for food, or two naive teenagers.

On the contrary. I packed a delicious picnic basket filled with gluten free dishes like thai chicken salad, chicken with wild rice and cranberries, and mozzarella/tomato/basil. I also brought red wine (water for me.. in a wine glass), fruit, and biscotti (he got the chocolate chip, I got the gluten free pine nuts & cranberry).

The first 5 minutes would determine whether this was date was to be a romantic rendezvous or a raving disaster. His two person kayak, was tied to his dock. I had to get in first (not tip the kayak), then he had to lower the 30 pound picnic basket into the front of the kayak, between my legs (may be exaggerating… may have been 20 pounds, I just know I couldn’t hold it by the handle, had to hold it with both arms from underneath. It was definitely heavier than my 19 pound mastiff puppy when I used to hold her with two arms!)… and then for the real challenge. Now that I was balanced, the basket was balanced, and Bohdi had settled his back pack, all 6’3″, 230 pounds of him had to get in the back and not tip us.

Did I build up any suspense?….

I suspect not if you’ve peeked ahead at the pictures.  When he saw the basket, he did warn me that we were going to get wet.  Can’t say that I believed him. I’ve kayaked before, but in a single kayak on a tropical island where the water was as calm as a pond. You know, I probably did get wet those times I kayaked, but when you’re not trying to deliberately keep something dry (like your sexy straight hair, and an open picnic basket with cloth napkins), you don’t notice.

Every time, I lifted my paddle out of the water to paddle on the other side, water got in the kayak. Hmmm. That’s when I came up with the brilliant plan for me to paddle on one side and he would paddle on the other. Only he’s a tad bit stronger than me, so I had to paddle twice as hard to keep up… okay three times as hard.

I’m making it sound worse than it was, as I was thoroughly enjoying the quiet of the canals and when we finally turned the corner to find the private beach, it was exactly what I had hoped for, white sand, tiny shells where the water washed in and out, and a covering of twisted trees so we didn’t have to be subjected to the hot sun pounding down on us all day.  There was even a rope tied to a branch for swinging on.

He pulled the kayak up on the beach and we made ourselves at home… quite possibly in some “displaced” person’s home, as we found a fire pit with a large pot, a large 4’x4′ 4″ deep crate that could double as a bed, and just into the woods, a wardrobe of tattered clothes hanging from branches.

We made a promise to leave the area better than we found it, and figured, whomever “lived” there, probably didn’t come out until nightfall.  Bohdi dragged the crate into the water and rinsed it off, put his large towel over it, and I covered it with the green sheet, which was not necessary except for the Martha Stewart design scheme I had going on.

The view from our beach was beautiful, and Bohdi knew every type of fishing boat to yacht that went by.  The great thing about boaters is, no matter if they are on a 10 million dollar yacht or a 10 dollar blow up dingy, everybody waves. People on boats are very friendly and I think we can all learn something from them. I pondered a theory that if everyone lived on boats there would be no war, but then Bohdi educated me on pirates… actual pirates who steal yachts and… well, I’ll stop there, this is a romantic date, but let’s just say I won’t be yachting near Somalia anytime.. ever.

We ate our food, he drank his wine, we lounged about, I swung on the rope but did not jump into the water (sexy straightened hair and all). Then a couple of teenagers showed up with some beers and made themselves comfortable. Luckily, they were playing reggae. A little while later, I overheard them discussing what a good thing it was that Nirvana split up or we never would have had both Nirvana and Foo Fighters. I was proud of their parents for exposing them to good music, and did not feel it was my place to “school” them on the fact that Nirvana did not “break up”. But I digress…

A short while later a couple of their teenage friends came to shore on a small fiberglass boat and picked them up. Alone again at last… we lounged some more, and then it was time to go home. We had a leisurely kayak back.  It was an ideal day!  And the more I get to know him, the more things I discover that we both like to do. I’m pretty sure I’ll never get him to watch my “guilty pleasure” reality shows, but I can live with that.

This set the bar pretty high, so we’ll see what date #3 brings…