The other day when Sam and I had dinner at Cosy Bay and took a stroll beside Kallang Basin, I had many anecdotes to share with Sam about my canoeing/dragon boat days.
There were 2 dragon boat teams racing against each other in the darkened sky, shouting the familiar commands that echoed in the buildings alongside the basin. The consistent one-sound thuds that came from paddles penetrating water signified that the team was making coordinated strokes, enabling their boat to thrust forward, gliding steadily ahead.
The well-acquainted smell of group sweat blended with salty water. The familiar initial shock of cold water during showers. Hateful abrasions on butts and arms. Getting ant bites. Walking on shit-like mud. Perspiring like every pore of your body is producing sweat during circuit training (which was torturous). Wearing stinky life vests.
Mr Sng’s biscuits. Running together with one spirit. Rowing together with one heart. Cheering each other on and pushing ourselves for the betterment of each other and the team as a whole. Sharing bottles of tap water every training. Applying ointment and plasters for each other. Qiu Lian Ban Mian. Chicken Chop. Ah Balling tang yuan.
It’s been 3 years since I last touched a paddle, but the memories are still vivid especially when I go past the area. Jogging to Kallang Stadium; jogging to Suntec; risk stepping on acorns walking/jogging whilst hugging life vests, water bottles and sponges from SDBA (Singapore Dragon Boat Association) to KLSSC (Kallang Sea Sports Club, or we call it KL for short). Taking bus 133 together from school and then taking the MRT home. Meeting every morning to do pull-ups, and then rushing up for flag-raising in wet shirts from perspiration. Lunching together at our designated table.
I met the team for a Chinese New Year visit to Mr Sng, our dedicated coach, as we do so every year. Our bond is a rather silent thing. It never verbalizes, but manifests itself in the laughs, the meals, and even the silence. Mostly the silence I guess.
