Getting Back on the Horse

Like the old saying goes, “If you fall off a horse, you have to get right back up on him, or you’ll never ride a horse again.”

I was a little gun shy about going back out in my little fishing boat, by the way, Aidan has named it.  In fact, he asked me for a paint brush yesterday because he wanted to paint “The Scavenger” on the side of the boat.  I tried to explain to him that a stencil is needed for something like that, but he was convinced that he could do it free hand just as well.  Need-less-to-say, we’re going to wait for the stencil.

Anyway, a couple of days ago, while Christian was at Scout Camp, Aidan wanted to have his friend, Tristen, over for the day and to spend the night.  Sarah suggested that taking them fishing in the evening would really top off their day.  Uh-huh!  But, that would mean I would have to go out in the boat. 

“Perhaps, we could go down to the point and fish from the side.”  I suggested.

“Yes, but you could also take them out in the boat, which, would be a lot more fun.” Sarah answered back.

“It won’t be that much fun if we sink.”  I mumbled to myself.

I asked the boys if they wanted to go and wouldn’t you believe it, they jumped for joy.  I started to get my fishing gear together and hooked up the boat to the truck and got everything ready to go.  I told the boys that as soon as Sarah got home from work, we would head out.

As we were bouncing down the road, I got a taste of what my dad must have gone through with me.  I just knew he was up there in heaven watching this whole scene unfold and having a real chuckle.

“So…” I started, “Why did you wear your bathing suits?”

“Well,” Aidan spoke first, “Tristen, here, decided that he wants to go swimming, too, and I agree.  So we’ll cast our line out on one side of the boat and we can swim on the other side.”

“I hate to spoil your fun, but you can’t fish and swim at the same time.”

“Why not?”  They asked.

“Well, because it will scare the fish.”  I answered, realizing that this was almost a recording of the conversation between my dad and I many years ago.  “Besides,”  I added, “who’ll reel in the fish when you hook into one?”

“You can reel it in.” was Aidan’s simple answer.

After a lot of serious conversation, we compromised and decided that we would fish for about an hour and then we could swim for about an hour then it would be time to leave.

With everyone safe and sound in the boat, life jackets securely strapped to the boys’ chests, we putted out to the spot where we have caught a few fish in the past.  We found our spot and I dropped anchor.  I put a worm on Aidan’s pole first and got him already to go.  He cast out to a perfect spot and started watching the bobber bounce against the trickling waves.  Now it was Tristen’s turn.  It took a little longer to set him up, as I had to start from scratch with him seeing as how the pole he was using was one of the poles that took a real beating when the boat went down.  He was patient, however, while I restrung the line on the pole, attached a swivel, hook and a bobber.  We finally got him out in the water. 

While I was getting my rig set up, I watched the boys.  I understood why fishing was a difficult sport to master for nine year olds.  Both of them just sat there staring at a little red bobber in the water.  How many boys at that age can just sit and do nothing for any period of time.  I can even recall my own frustration as a kid their ages fishing with Dad.  If I wasn’t reeling in buckets of fish within the first 30 seconds, I was done.

I tossed my line out in the water, fully expecting to just let it sit there, while spending most of the time baiting and re-baiting the boys’ hooks, in between working on getting them untangled or uncaught.

No sooner did my worm hit the water, when I got a huge hit.  I played with the fish for a moment, then gently gave it a little tug and he was hooked.

“Looky, here guys, I got me one.”  I said, as I pulled the little crappie into the boat.

“Can I fish over there?” Aidan asked.

“Certainly,” I said.  Just reel in and we’ll toss it over on this side of the boat.  I went back to putting my fish on the stringer, as he started reeling in.

“Whoa!” Aidan yelled, “I got one.”  He lifted the little crappie out of the water and flung him in my direction for the de-hooking.  “I think I’ll keep fishing right here.” He added.

I was getting a little concerned for Tristen seeing as how we had continued to fish for another 30 minutes or so without him even getting a nibble.  Of course, I could easily understand why as I watched him repeatedly cast his line about 40 yards from the boat and then immediately start reeling it in as if he had a fighting barracuda on the hook.

“I think you’ll have better luck, Tristen, if you let the bobber sit there for awhile.” I told him.

“Nah, I like doing it this way.”

In the meantime, Aidan, having caught no more fish, was done and kept begging to go swimming.  Tristen said we couldn’t go swimming until he caught his fish, and so the battle went.

An hour or so had gone by, so I told the boys we’d head back to shore so they could swim for a little while before we had to go.

“OK.” They said.  “But, Tristen wanted to cast out one more time.  Vroooom…there it went.  Of course, he instantly, as soon as the worm hit the water, started reeling in for all he was worth.  I had to smile to myself.  Then all of a sudden, with no warning, his pole bent forward.

“Tristen!”  I yelled.  “I think you got one.”

“Really?”  He answered back.

He slowed his reeling and sure enough, he pulled up another crappie.  I just shook my head.

With each of us catching a fish we were satisfied with our haul and started for home.  (They decided swimming in the pool would probably be more fun.)  And the boat didn’t sink.   

The Boat...Chapter 7

The Boat…Chapter 7

Why was I busting my back side, not to mention the rest of my body, to get the boat ENTIRLY out of the water.  It was already out far enough, and snug as a bug, as they say, upon the rocks, that I could bail the water out of the boat…at least enough to make it floatable again.  I know, I know, some of you have been wondering why I had thought of that already.

Anyway, I started splashing the water out of the boat and it was working beautifully.  Within minutes I had most of the water out and was ready to head for the dock.  Of course, I wasn’t sure how I was going to get from my present location to the loading dock, which was within eye sight about a quarter of a mile away.  I couldn’t use the Mercury motor, because it was not working.  I couldn’t use the trolling motor because I no longer had a battery.  I did have one paddle with me (it’s wood, so it floated), but with a fairly stiff breeze blowing towards me, I could only imagine how long that would have taken, especially being as tired as I was.  The only option I could see was to hold the boat and WALK it to the dock staying as close to the shore as possible so I could touch the bottom.

I gathered up all that I had left and loaded it in the boat.  It was still afloat, yippee!  I started the trek around the edge of the lake.  I had no sooner got started when I heard an approaching boat.  I stopped, looked around behind me and putting down the lake was a small fishing boat with a couple of anglers inside.  I waited for them to see me and felt some relief in knowing that they could at least tow me the rest of the way to the dock.  They spotted me and I waved in their direction.  They waved back and kept on chugging along.  I waved again, with a little more SOS in my waving attitude, and they waved back, again…but kept on motoring past me as if nothing was out of sorts.  I just shook my head and kept on walking…or stumbling over the jagged, slippery rocks to be more precise. 

A couple of times along the way, the bottom disappeared and I had to swim as I dragged the boat, but at least it was only for 30-40 yards this time.  Finally, I was only a few yards from the boat ramp.  I tied the boat to the dock and dragged myself out of the water.  I practically crawled up the ramp and headed for my truck.  As I approached the top of the ramp, the road worker who was working on the dock spotted me.

“How come you’re all wet?”  He asked.

I just stared at him as a million smart aleck answers formed on my lips.

“Could you just tell me what time it is?”  I asked.

“Sure, it’s a little after three.”

Holy cow, I thought.  I have been at this for 5 hours. 

I got the truck, loaded the boat on the trailer and headed for home. 

Sarah is not going to believe this one.

The Boat...Chapter 6

The Boat…Chapter 6

Knowing that I had lost just about everything because of this little fiasco, the thought of my knife still in my pants pocket seemed ludicrous.  But I figured, “what the heck?”  I was dumbfounded.  There in my left pocket was a quarter, two pennies AND a pocket knife.  Unbelievable!

I used the knife to undo the knot and I was in business, again…sort of.  I wrapped the rope around my waist and using the tree and rock it was sliding across, I tried inching the boat upwards.  It actually moved.  I felt elated that perhaps, if I was patient and moved along at a steady slow pace, I could finally get it to where I needed it.  Sure enough, the nose of the boat was getting higher and higher until eventually the boat was resting in the position I needed it to be, in order to remove the water so it could once again float.  There was just one small problem.  While the nose of the boat was in the right spot, the rear of the boat was still two feet out into the lake AND still under water.

I tied off the front so it wouldn’t move and worked myself back down into the water at the aft of the boat.  First, I tried pulling the boat sideways up out of the water.  There was no way that was going to work.  The boat was just to heavy.  I noticed that the way the boat was positioned on this make shift runway, it appeared that I might be able to slide it forward along the runway until the rear of the boat was actually out of the water.

I moved around to the rear of the boat and tried pushing…not a quarter of an inch.  I tried again…nothing.  I stepped back, not literally, of course, and surveyed the situation again.  There is no earthly reason this boat should not move, I thought.  That’s when I noticed something I had done that prevented the boat from going anywhere, including forward.  I had tied the front of the boat off so securely, that there was no way it was going to move.  I knew I had to make my way back up the embankment to the stern.

Now, I had to pray that when I loosened the rope, the boat would stay put and not slide back down the edge, into the water.  I untied the knot and let the rope out very slowly to see if it was going to stay in place.  It wasn’t.  With each section of rope I loosened, the boat would slip that amount down the side.  OK, I thought, you’re just going to have to find a way to keep the boat from sliding downward, while still allowing for it to move forward.

I found a large rock that I hoped would do the trick.  I placed the rock on the lake side of the boat, about half way down its side.  I positioned it such that it was scrunched up between the side of the hill and a big root bulging out of the embankment.  The rock was secure.  At least enough to keep the boat from sliding…I hoped.

I made my way back to the stern of the “ship” and continued untying it.  Ah ha!  It worked.  The boat was significantly loose, yet still wedged in between the rock and the dirt wall.  Now, back down to the rear of the boat.  All the time I was moving, I was looking at the position of the boat.  There was absolutely no reason I shouldn’t be able to slide this thing up along the runway far enough to clear the water.

When I found my way to the lake again, I grabbed both back ends of the boat and pushed.  It moved!  Not much, at first, but enough.  I pushed again, sustaining my surge to see how far I could get it to move.  Low and behold, I actually felt the boat move four or five inches.  Only one and a half more feet, I thought.  I was encouraged.

After another shove and another half foot up the runway, the boat came to a stop.  I was not to be denied!  I turned around with my back up against the back of the boat.  I scrunched down in a knee bent position to get as much leverage as I could.  I grabbed the bottom of the boat with my hands and braced myself for one mighty shove.  I’ve never really understood why Olympic Game power lifters yell when they go for that lift, but I also know that they are the “professionals” and obviously they know what they are doing.  So decided I would give a mighty roar as I heaved the aircraft carrier forward.  The very least that could happen is perhaps I could attract some attention from someone on this lake.  Maybe even the road worker that was doing something to the dock where I had launched this boat only a few hours earlier.  I have to say, I was a little puzzled by this guy, anyway.  He had been working on this dock since before I had even arrived.  In fact, after I had put the boat in the water, he offered to hold it while I parked the truck.  He could obviously see what I was going through, for he was only about a quarter of a mile up down the lake and in easy view.  Oh well, back to the problem at hand.

I jostled the boat around in my hands and braced my feet on the heavy rocks below.  After a couple of long deep breaths, I shoved, putting every back muscle I had to work and roaring like a lion, to boot.  In a flash the boat jumped up the runway again until it came to its final resting place.  Somehow, I knew that this was as far as she was going to go.

When I turned around to face the boat, I could see that it hadn’t moved quite far enough. The corner of the boat was still in the water.  That’s when it hit me.  How stupid!  What an ignoramus goof ball!  Didn’t you go to college?  I saw the answer to my problem.

The Boat...Chapter 5

The Boat…Chapter 5

I’m not sure how long I was in the boat.  I’m not sure if I passed out or if I was knock out.  When I opened my eyes I looked around and nothing had changed.  I paid attention to my body for a moment to see if there was any other kind of hurt or pain expressing itself, but…nothing more than the regular pain and aches I already had.  I decided I hadn’t died and gone to heaven because I didn’t see any doves flying around or harps being played or any other heavenly kind of sounds.  I knew it wasn’t hell either, because I was a little cold from being in the cold Lake Chilhowee water.  I pulled myself up and out of the boat searching for a rock that would support me.  I reached back behind my head because of the headache I had developed and felt a little bump on the back of my noggin.  I soon realized why everything went black for awhile.  I just hoped that maybe it knocked a little sense into me.

OK!  OK!  The boat is still not floatable.  I finally got to the back of the boat and took the rope and hunted for something I could secure the tail to and that was up high enough so it would be supportive of my lifting scheme.  I could find nothing.  Not a tree stump, a rock, or even a shrub strong enough to do the trick.  Why didn’t I think to check this out BEFORE I went to all the trouble of turning this vessel around?  There had to be something, I said to myself.  All I needed to do was find someway to wrap that rope around something secure and inch the boat up out of the water enough so I could pull the drain plug and let the water out.

When I verbalized that last statement in my ranting and raving, it dawned on me that that plan was not going to work.  It was not going to work because of a minor little flaw with the boat.  Obviously, I knew about the problem, but I thought it was so insignificant; it would never make a difference.  Well, boy was I wrong.  I could take the drain plug out, but I would not be able to screw it back in.  The way this drain plug work is dependant on the rubber bushing on the outside of the plug.  The plug itself is about an inch in diameter and about two inches long.  On the inside is a bolt with a little turn handle at one end and a metal washer on the other end.  On the outside is a rubber washer that swells up when the little handle on the plug is turned…thus sealing the hole.  There was a malfunction, of sorts, with my drain plug.  For some reason the screw part froze up when unscrewed.  It worked fine when I took a pair of pliers and held the metal washer in place and started to turn it.  It would only take about a quarter of a turn to free up, but it would not free up by hand, I had to hold the washer with some pliers to get it to start.  AND, my pliers were at the bottom of the lake.  What this meant was this…I could unscrew the plug (if I ever got the tail of the boat out of the water) and let the water out, but I could not put the plug back in.  Therefore the boat would fill with water again as soon as I launched it for the boat ramp.  This changes everything!

Now I was back to my original plan of lifting the boat high enough out of the water to actually tip it to one side far enough so I could pour the water over the side of the boat.  I think I’m going to be sore in the morning, I thought.

Even so, I had to find something to wrap that rope around.  I started inching myself up the side of the embankment searching for something that would work.  There!  I spotted some kind of root, or buried limb protruding out the side of the hill.  I pulled on it as hard as I could and it didn’t budge.  This is just going to have to work, I said out loud.

After securing the rope to the root, I started pulling the aft of the boat onto the shore.  The point of where the back of the boat rested was on a fairly large smooth rock and getting the boat up on that rock and all the way to the edge was pretty easy.  But then it stopped moving.  I inched down the slope a little in order to see what was blocking the boats movement. 

I spotted a couple of two inch thick water logged branches from some invisible tree jutting out of the rocks.  They were impeding any movement of the boat.  I tried breaking the branches and was successful with one of them, but not the second.  But, at the same time, I discovered that it was pretty pliable.  I found the broken rope and a section that was still intact.  I tied one end around a rock and wrapped the rope around the limb and started pulling.  I was able to pin this stubborn chunk of wood up against the edge of the slope and tied it off.  Now back to the pulling.

It still was not budging.  After careful inspection I decided that the rocks just past the smooth flat sloping rock that the boat easily moved over, was now sticking up out of their perch making it almost impossible for me to actually lift the boat the three or four inches I needed to clear them. 

I needed to re-arrange the rocks.

I pushed and shoved, all the time careful my toes did not get in the way, until I had fashioned almost a “runway” for the boat.  The slick shards of shale actually was working for me instead of against me.  If I can just get it up enough to hit the runway, I should be able to push the boat forward and up enough to tip the boat to the side, I thought.  But how to get the front of the boat up and onto this runway was a task I was not sure how to accomplish.

I made the hike to the other end of the boat, slipping and sliding on the broken shale and dodging boulders as I went.  When I finally reached the other end, I tried untying the rope, but I couldn’t budge the knot.  With the weight of the boat pulling against the rope the knot had tightened significantly.  With no fingernails (Someone or something sneaks into my bedroom when I am asleep and bites them off…that’s my story and I’m sticken’ to it.) I could not loosen the knot!  Now what?