My wife, Sarah, told me that in time, the story will be funny.  But, right now, she told me, it was too painful.  She was right, of course.  However, a week or so has gone by, and I think I can write about it.  It is kind of a long story, and you know me, I can make reporting the Dodger/Giant baseball score into a half hour story.  So, I hope you don’t get bored and can find it interesting and funny…well, a little funny.

One of the things a guy is supposed to do when he retires is fish, or at least the old retiree stories seemed to involve fishing more times than not.  So, contrary to what I said on my last blog, I decided to take up this ancient sport of drowning worms.  Much to my surprise, I kind of liked it.  And, I really started liking it when I caught something.  Then, I really, really started liking it when my neighbor took me to the lake and we went out in his little fishing boat.

I’ve got to get me a fishing boat, I said to Sarah.  Fishing from the bank allowed me to catch little crappie about the size of my palm.  After I filleted the crappie and cooked them, it looked more like popcorn shrimp than fish.  So, I watched Craig’s list and EBay daily looking for that one unbelievable deal.  Well, I finally found it.  A little 12’ aluminum number with a trolling motor and a Mercury 6 HP engine (doesn’t work, needs a new carburetor kit installed) It has two swivel seats and an anchor and a trailer.

I took Sarah out fishing, Aidan out fishing, Christian out fishing and one of my bus driving friends out fishing.  Then, I decided that it was time for just me and the boat to get acquainted.  The boys were with their Dad up in New Hampshire for a couple of weeks.  Sarah was off to work and I was hooking up the trailer to the pickup with my sights set on Chilhowee Lake.

I found the “perfect” place just up past the dam.  I launched the boat from the dock and shoved off to find that pool of fish.  Everything was going pretty good.  I caught a small crappie and threw it back, then a little baby trout, and threw him back.  I decided that I was fishing too close to the shore and moved the boat further out towards the middle and the deeper part of the lake.  Finally, I reeled in a nice pan size rainbow, then another.  I soon hooked into a crappie that was large enough to actually look like a filleted fish when cleaned.  With three fish worth keeping “safely” tucked away in my little Styrofoam ice chest, I hooked into “the monster of the midway.”  My reel started spinning backwards (something that never happens when I hook into one of those bite size Crappies.)  With much patience and reeling, I finally got the trout into the boat.  It was a beauty; about 15 or 16 inches long and very heavy.  Of course, nothing goes perfect.  The guy jumped off the hook and landed at my feet and then slid under the seat in the back.  THE SEAT IN THE BACK!  That information alone, might give you a hint of what was to come.  When I got to where I wanted to fish, instead of switching to the middle seat to balance the weight in the boat, I stayed in the seat at the rear so it would be easier to operate the trolling motor.  I started grabbing for that big trout and he kept eluding my grasp and then disappeared.  I grabbed for him on one side of the boat and then the other.  Needless to say, the boat was jostling all over the lake.  That was when I noticed the unusual amount of water at my feet.

“Hey!  Where’s all this water coming from?”  I said out loud as if someone was actually listening to me.  My first thought was that the plug had somehow come loose and the boat was taking on water through the drain hole.  When I spun around, I quickly learned that it wasn’t the plug hole at all…it was the backside of the boat.  With all my bouncy movements looking for that stinking fish, I had somehow allowed large amounts of water inside the boat, and of course with each wave of water the boat sat lower and lower in the lake.

Within seconds, literally, after realizing I was in trouble, the boat submerged.  I quickly jumped into the lake and then grabbed the front of the boat as it was rising higher and higher into the air.  With the trolling motor battery on one side of the boat, and because of the weight of the battery, the boat started tipping in that direction.  I didn’t know if an aluminum boat would actually sink all the way to the bottom, or not, but I didn’t want to experiment at that point.  I held onto the front of the boat as best I could, trying to keep it from rolling over.  The weight of the Mercury was to my advantage, but the strength of water with an attitude is hard to argue with.  Finally, the boat rolled slowly back upright, and that was when I realized that the trolling motor battery was now on its way to the bottom of the lake.  At least I still had the boat, even though the stern was stuck up in the front and the aft was buried in water.

I looked toward the shore wondering at the same time, what the hell was I supposed to do now?  The assessment didn’t take long as I knew there was nothing I could do in the middle of the lake in water so deep there was no bottom.  Afraid that the boat would actually sink if I let go, I started to swim with my legs and one arm and held the boat with the other arm.  I looked at the shore and guessed that it was about a hundred yards away.  It was now 10:00 AM.

I swam and swam, alternating hands as I became tired.  After what seemed an eternity, the sight of the shore looked as far away as it did when I had started.  But, I kept plugging away.  I was thinking about all sorts of weird stuff as I splashed through the water.  “I hope those stupid fish are happy now.”  “If the battery was attached to the trolling motor, and the battery sank?  Why didn’t the trolling motor sink?”  “Are there fish large enough in this lake that could and would actually bite my feet?”  “Once I get to the shore, what am I going to do then?”  “I can’t wait for Sarah to hear about this one…ugh!” 

Little by little, it appeared that the shore was getting closer and closer.  When I got close enough, I started to scope out where a good place was to moor this half sunken tin can.  (Technically, an aluminum can.)  That task alone, was impossible.  Anyone that knows anything about Chilhowee Lake knows that there is no “shore.”  There are some rocks at the edge and then it drops off like a cliff into Morey Heaven.

My feet finally hit “solid” ground.  I pulled myself to the rocky edge and hardly had room to sit, as the overgrowth of trees and shrubs were unrelenting.

It was now around 11:30 or so.  I didn’t know for sure because I didn’t have a watch.  I figured I could just keep track of the time with my telephone.  Obviously, that was going to be impossible now. 

I looked up momentarily and saw another disturbing sight…

To Be Continued…

The Boat