In a rare but welcome change, Sleeping Beauty and I spent the past week in seclusion, hidden away on a beautiful lake deep in the heart of the Kingdom of Rhode Island. We shut off our phones, unplugged the computer and TV, and, for once, didn’t get on a motorcycle at all.

We had a great time sitting around, recharging our batteries from all the running around we’ve done in the past, oh, I dunno, three years or so. Almost felt like we were on vacation. Maybe we’ll even do it again sometime in the next three years, who knows?

My friend John has a small party barge docked at my house. In exchange for this berth, I have a key and permission to sail anytime. I’ve a somewhat checkered history with John’s boat, nicknamed the S.S. Crapshoot. A safe voyage in this scow is at best, a 50-50 proposition. But, the lake is fairly small, and after sitting around for two days, I felt the need for a little adventure.

S.S. Crapshoot

“Hey, Fiona! I have an idea! Wanna take the boat out for a nice sunset cruise?”

“That piece of shit?” she replied, somewhat incredulously. “Are you kidding? That’s the same boat that stranded us last year, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was last year.” Along with a thick stubborn streak, selective memory is one of my better qualities. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing by now it’s much easier and quicker to agree with me and get it over with.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

While I did a quick check to make sure we had the essentials; life jackets, some fuel and cold beer, Sleeping Beauty disappeared. On the fourth or fifth try, the S.S. Crapshoot sputtered and coughed to life, not bad by this barge’s admittedly low standards. Minutes later, Fiona was ready to set sail, armed with her cell phone and two oars, as she put it, “Just in case.”

Our yacht motored out into the lake, where, it seemed, everyone else had the same ‘sunset cruise’ idea. Idly, we waved at other boaters as we traced a lazy circle around the two mile perimeter of the lake. What few clouds there were barely dotted the horizon. In the game of sailing, it seemed we’d rolled a seven, as the S.S. Crapshoot ran strong on our peaceful voyage. Ah yes, this is the life, and, at that moment, feet up and smiling, my girlfriend by my side, life was indeed very good.

An hour later, with the dock nearly in sight, the boat shuddered once, and the motor abruptly died. Our peaceful cruise just got a bit more peaceful, but not in a good way.

Fiona shot me that look, the one that says, “I told you so,” without actually saying it. The clouds that barely dotted the horizon now blotted it out entirely. Out of nowhere, the wind suddenly picked up, and started blowing our tiny, dead ship away from our dock.

Waving her phone at me, Sleeping Beauty said, “Let’s call the Coast Guard.”

“Don’t over react. It’s nothing, dear.” I said with more conviction than I felt. I turned the key, trying in vain to get the Crapshoot restarted. Snake eyes. I checked the fuel level; plenty of gas in there. Twist the key again. Nothing. Frustrated, I let loose a nice string of curses, swearing like the sailor I was pretending to be. What the fuck do I know about boating? Not enough, that’s for sure.

Looking around for help, we realized we were alone. All the other people we’d waved to earlier had wisely brought their perfectly running boats back to their dock ahead of the impending storm. The dark clouds thickened. I fiddled around, trying in vain to restart the engine. Without seeing any other options, I said, “Well… I think we’re going to have to row.”

Fiona’s string of curses would’ve made a real sailor blush.

Half an hour later, all we’d managed to do is paddle the heavy boat around in circles, and drift even further from the dock. Soaked with sweat, Fiona snapped, “You did check the battery, right?”

“Yes, dear, of course I did!” I snapped back. But, of course I hadn’t. Dropping my paddle on the deck, I said, “Let me go check it again!”

Right there in the battery compartment was the source of our trouble. Somehow, a thick red wire had worked itself loose from the battery terminal. After Macgyvering a temporary repair using a bottle cap and a small stick, I said, “Try starting it now.”

Miracle of miracles, the S.S. Crapshoot roared back to life, just as the first fat drops of rain started to fall. I jammed the throttle forward, and minutes later we were safe and sound on dry land.

Shaking her head at my folly, Fiona said, “You know, maybe we should stick to something safer, like motorcycles!”

I have to agree.

Author: frenchy

One Response to “Rock the Boat”

1. Anonymous says:

   June 21, 2009 at 10:07 AM

   I will never stop enjoying reading about your adventures!! Love ya… Dad. PS – I have a pizza cutter should you ever need some extra "tools". 😉

   Reply