There Was Plenty Of Action On the Water

Barb and I spent the morning at the lake catching up on chores. It was too windy to fish. By early afternoon, however, the wind began to lay.

“Let’s go fishing,” Barb said.

I was in the boat at the dock rigging a couple of rods watching her walk down the hill with an insulated bag of food and drinks when I noticed an ominous bank of clouds approaching.

“Let’s wait this out,” I suggested, and we headed up the hill back to the house. By the time we got there big drops of rain had begun to fall.

We stood inside at the windows and watched the storm build. A light rain at first, it quickly turned into a deluge, pounding on the metal roof.

About the time I made a comment about us needing the moisture, the wind picked up and changed direction. Within seconds our view of the boats at the dock vanished behind a curtain of wind-blown rain and hail.

When the maelstrom passed, and visibility returned, the boats and dock were no longer attached to the bank, but instead drifting down the middle of the bay.

While the worst of the storm had passed, thunder and lightning still filled the sky. I wasn’t anxious to get in the water, but there was no choice.

It was a situation that required immediate action.

By me.

Nobody else was around and there was no putting off this chore until later as I typically would do.

And fortunately — or unfortunately —I’d been there before. Barb reminded me of that as we jumped into the side-by-side and raced around the bay where the raft of dock and boats was headed.

Swimming out to the pontoon still tied securely to the cleats, I pulled down the ladder and climbed aboard. Lowering the outboard into the water, I fired it up and began slowly motoring the whole mess back up the bay.

By the time I reached shore, neighbors had gathered to help.

The following morning was spent cutting new poles to secure the dock, replacing a mooring line that had snapped, and pounding in T-posts to tie it all to shore.

Barb said the whole experience was embarrassing.

I have to disagree.

I kind of dig the excitement.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]