might think. However, only experience in balance and in the nature of
waves will bring you safely across a stretch of whitecaps.

With the sea dead ahead you must not go too fast; otherwise you will
dip water over the bow. You must trim the craft absolutely on an even
keel; otherwise the comb of the wave, too light to lift you, will slop
in over one gunwale or the other. You must be perpetually watching your
chance to gain a foot or so between the heavier seas.

With the sea over one bow you must paddle on the leeward side. When the
canoe mounts a wave, you must allow the crest to throw the bow off a
trifle, but the moment it starts down the other slope you must twist
your paddle sharply to regain the direction of your course. The
careening tendency of this twist you must counteract by a corresponding
twist of your body in the other direction. Then the hollow will allow
you two or three strokes wherewith to assure a little progress. The
double twist at the very crest of the wave must be very delicately
performed, or you will ship water the whole length of your craft.

With the sea abeam you must simply paddle straight ahead. The
adjustment is to be accomplished entirely by the poise of the body. You
must prevent the capsize of your canoe when clinging to the angle of a
wave by leaning to one side. The crucial moment, of course, is that
during which the peak of the wave slips under you. In case of a
breaking comber, thrust the flat of your paddle deep in the water to
prevent an upset, and lean well to leeward, thus presenting the side
and half the bottom of the canoe to the shock of water. Your recovery
must be instant, however. If you lean a second too long, over you go.
This sounds more difficult than it is. After a time you do it
instinctively, as a skater balances.