Some of their gear-a pair of shoes, a VHF radio, a wampum sash worth several thousand dollars-now resides on the canal’s bottom. He went far right, zigzagging, and as he went by us he, like, hit the gas-you could see his bow go up.” The narrow canal frothed like an ocean, and the canoeists were sent swimming. “We kind of had a little game of chicken going. “It was in our lane, on the left side of the canal,” Ranco said. A powerboat named Just Chillin’ appeared from around a corner. The speed limit on the Shinnecock Canal, in Hampton Bays, is five miles per hour, which a group of hardy paddlers in a thirty-one-foot canoe were improbably exceeding the other day, when “the shit went down,” as one of them, Ryan Ranco, recalled.
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