The seas were high, and the forecast was grim. The Friendship Paddle’s mid-September plan to motor across the Santa Barbara Channel, stay the night off of Santa Cruz Island, then paddle back to the harbor the following day with only our arms as engines was in jeopardy.
That’s the traditional route for the annual weekend fundraiser, envisioned back in 2003 when a group supported their sick friend by enduring their own challenge of paddling 24 miles across the tumultuous Pacific Ocean. The mission was so inspiring that the group — many of them alumni, including that first honoree — repeated the feat the next year to honor another unwell friend. Then they did it again, and then again, eventually maturing into a 501c3 nonprofit that now raises more than $200,000 per paddle.
With 2022 marking the 20th anniversary, the stakes were even higher to make the Saturday crossing happen, so the nearly 40 boats and 200 participants agreed to brave the choppy channel, trying not to turn green as waves slammed the sides of our boats.
Miraculously, paradise awaited at Smugglers Cove on the island’s eastern edge. From the old olive groves on the nearby hillsides to the craggy peaks of Anacapa Island, we enjoyed warm water and epic views. On Sunday morning, as bagpipes greeted the dawn from a single boat in the water, the ocean swayed little more than a lake, the sun shone bright but softly, and the waters remained pleasant, even in the deepest stretches. These were magical conditions for a human-powered crossing.
This is not the first time such magic has descended upon The Friendship Paddle. Indeed, the forecast is always grim for each year’s honoree — a Santa Barbara resident who is staring down a life-threatening illness — and the paddle’s end is always joyous, if tearful. The honoree walks taller, floating atop a high tide of genuine love, camaraderie and monetary donations to ease the course ahead. Most go on to outlive the life expectancy that their doctors first predicted, and many are alive and thriving today, even paddling themselves each year.
The 2022 honoree was Chris Potter ’98, a Santa Barbara native and renowned plein air painter. Diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of cancer around his lungs in November 2021, he battled to breathe for weeks, finally achieving an acceptable level of comfort after months of radiation, chemo and immunotherapy.
On the morning of the paddle, Potter was energized as we gathered in the waters just off of Prisoners Harbor. He was surrounded by close friends like me and new friends he’d met only the day before, those dedicated paddlers who participate every year, including some from that inaugural 2003 event.
One such original paddler was Arick Fuller ’93 who spoke to the floating crowd about what happens when someone faces a life-threatening diagnosis. “There comes a fork in the road,” says Fuller. Down one path is fear, he explains, but down the other is the choice to fight on.
“Chris Potter rode on,” exclaims Fuller, prompting all of us to erupt in cheers, splash the seas high into the sky, and start our trip toward the mainland, two dozen miles away. Seven hours later, we’d land on the beach outside the Santa Barbara Yacht Club, where hundreds more took Potter into their arms and welcomed The Friendship Paddle home.
