'Worley Hillbillies' do boating

There's nothing like a little human interest story made long. I thought you needed a bit of background information and have employed a current "it" word to maintain interest. Names have not been used to protect the guilty, and please don't think you need to collect to get us a new boat. We have plenty of resources, but have come from the day when good enough was a definite improvement. This has stuck with us up to our thinning hair follicles. Just for your information, my husband is a very intelligent man, a capable mechanic, and is generally overly, overly prepared.

What a joy to be well into our middle ages and to have gotten an old boat that is good enough. It's your basic faded robin's egg blue and white. Being so close to a great boat launch we wonder why we didn't do this years ago, rather than just a few, but now we can take it out on a calm weekday morning. We thoroughly enjoy the most beautiful lake on earth. Back from its Spokane repair shop and summer readiness, the boat, which has an inboard/outboard motor that is complex to service oneself, just cost $600 plus. This was higher than usual partially because it needed a new propeller on the big motor. The 'Himmer' had backed it up too far into his car-port last fall, and hit the stacked cinder blocks situated as a stop so the entire boat doesn't go down a big hill. This broke a propeller blade right off which we discovered on our last outing of the fall.

Many of you know what a pleasure it is to clean the boat up for the season. How did a mouse get into the bench storage and totally shred a life jacket? All clean and loaded up we set off, hoping to be on the water by 10 a.m. on a Thursday morning. What a gorgeous one ... supposed to hit 80 degrees!

We get out to the paved road and The Himmer does an, "Oh no." "What?" "I forgot to put the tags on." "Well, I remembered most of the stuff." Life is great when you have those senior moments and seem proud that you have remembered "most of the stuff," and have remembered the really critical stuff before you are too far down the road. Heading back up our long steep drive we come to a halt and Him tells me to get out and dial the hubs into lock for 4-wheel drive. He informs me the tires on the truck are getting kind of bare and he is surprised the beast wouldn't pull the boat up. He thinks it is time to get some new tires. The beast is a hideous rusty gold '75 Chevy with a big spare tire on the front. He just loves this truck ... wouldn't trade it for a super wide shiny maroon one. Whatever floats your boat. He thinks of it as an heirloom. It's his wood hauling baby, and he throws Godzilla sized logs onto it. I do get it that we don't need a shiny new one ... but really? It's good enough. One good thing about being home so soon is that we both get to pee again. Back near the pavement the hubs get freed and off we go!

The boat is in, and I'm holding it to the dock. I did this last year as another got backed into the water at the adjacent dock. I think the truck was a super wide shiny maroon one with a boat to match. A handsome teenage boy was watching me holding ours as the beast pulled out to park. I smiled and said to him, "You work real hard and someday you can afford a rig like this." He smiled back. Still, I like our boat, and regret I've never named her, but Him has been less than enthused about my silly names. I thought of a tribute to his dad who used to say he was "finer than a frog's hair." It could have been shortened to just A Frog's Hair, and I could have painted a cute little green frog with one big hair on the side. Do you get the picture? Oh, so you also get why he wasn't too enthused. You just don't know what a good artist I am. My son named his boat Sinky, and I have thought that is a tough one to match. Back from a pit stop at the outhouse, The Himmer is situated and the boat starts up like a charm. When I am asked to flip on the switch for the motor blower fan, it doesn't work at all nor does the bilge pump. After lying on his back for an inspection as to whether these are quick fixes, it is determined that they are not. No biggie. The Godzilla sized box covering the motor is just left up awhile and we push off.

There is some activity along the shoreline. A new house is going up and another being remodeled. It couldn't be a more perfect day. The water is near glass-like, and we are cruising toward our favorite timbered secluded bays. We commented on how good the boat seemed to be running. I am already hungry (usually eat lunch at 11:00), and bend to peek at The Himmer's watch. It's 10:40 and I can allow myself to eat in just 20 minutes. I love eating on the boat while he casts out a line. The first to sense tragedy, I suddenly break the breeze with a question, "What's that strange smell? I think it's coming from the boat." "No, I think it's coming from the work on the shore." "No, it IS coming from the boat." He looks in the box and determines there is an oil leak. "Could it just be burning off the engine?" I ask. "Nope." Back to the dock we glide after about a 5 minute outing. Once again The Himmer is lying on his back and comes up to determine it is a significant problem. He shows me a glob of oil on his finger. This is a Godzilla sized disappointment, but what can you do? We haul the boat out and are preparing it for the road. He cannot find the long metal v-hook thingy (pardon the technical term) that secures the small motor to the boat. It is not where it should be. I am thinking this is most likely another senior moment, but don't comment. After a thorough search, I suggest he walk back to the boat ramp and look a bit for it. Perhaps it is just a ways in the water and can be retrieved without hypothermia. "Nope." No biggie. On our way homeward it is decided that we might as well use the time we had planned to be "floating our boat" to haul it right back in to the repair shop.

Just rounding from the side street onto the two northbound lanes of Hwy 95 there is a huge BOOM. We are still trying to make the corner when this is followed by another huge BOOM! The golden beast's nose is pointing toward the center line and nothing is moving. The Himmer yells, "Get out! Get out! Quick. Quick!" Not always able to read his mind, I wonder, "What ... are we going to explode!?" "Dial the hubs in!" Out I go with no, "Be careful," but getting the be quick part. An approaching car that seemed far when I began just buzzed past my butt. With me back in, he is just able to scrape/lug the boat and trailer far enough from the corner and far enough off the road to not be an obstruction. I am the first to get out for an inspection and stand there shaking my head as I yell, "Oh you are not going to like this."

There is no tire at all on the driver's side of the trailer. It is sitting right on the metal wheel rim (correct?). The entire trailer is sitting right on the back of one of two big curved metal things which I learn are leaf springs. The passenger side tire is flat, turned in at an angle which goes against the way we were turning. It is embedded in about a 3 inch long piece of metal which is part of the trailer. It takes my brain awhile to figure out that this tire shouldn't turn at all. The axle is bent at a 45 degree angle. He walks back to the side street and does find what is left of the tire but no nuts. There is no cursing ... a surprise. I am thinking this is because The Himmer has been wanting a newer rig and has even mentioned this in the past year. I keep my mouth shut and don't begin to ask how this could have happened. Being helpless, I go and sit in the beast with the door opened and the sun a shinin'. Unfortunately I am looking down into the deep side ditch and seeing revealed trash ... parts of a styrofoam cooler and a wine bottle. I am hoping that if the police come along they don't think this is ours. Seeing that cooler makes me realize I am starving, so I go retrieve the small cooler from the boat. Back in safety, I break out my lunch and think this seems kind of like a picnic except for the traffic buzzing by. They're getting a sorry sight. Do two logging trucks really have to go by side by side? Here comes a third. It is a logging truck rally.

The Himmer is out walking back and forth by the wreckage, and is on the phone to the wreckers and the insurance agent. He is on the phone and on the phone ... probably for 45 minutes. It is hard to explain the situation. At one time I hear him ask why they need to know what size the tires are. He explains he has spare tires for the trailer but they aren't going to work on a bent frame. He really needs it ALL towed away. The fact that he is talking to a female receptionist may account for some of the explaining. She may not know all the technical terminology. At times he is chortling and laughing. This is good. They are having trouble hearing over the traffic noise, and he has his hand up to one ear and I can hear her voice on the other end. As he is negotiating we begin to unload everything, and I do mean a Godzilla amount, off of the boat. He can only use one hand so the big things have to wait. Into the truck bed and on the bench seat or passenger floor (joining the cooler) go a radio, the Magellan, the fish finder, the tool box, an emergency kit, life jackets, two tackle boxes, toilet paper, a fish net, my tote bag, towels, the anchor, the little motor, the gas can ... well I don't want to bore you but it does go on. You never know when some other hillbilly boater will come along and rip you off.

Unhooked, we begin the short drive home, and my feet assume their favorite but now only position on the dashboard. I turn and ask him, "Did you take the key out of the boat?" He gives me that 'really' look, and asks how someone would take it. We both wonder why they would ever want to take it, and how it would be the best case scenario if someone did take it. He is just going to drop me off and return in his SUV. He can visit the restroom, take his lunch and go meet the wrecker who is on his way for a 1 p.m. arrival. Three o'clock rolls around and the SUV has come up the long drive and then left again. He later tells me he stopped at home to get one of our jacks for the only thing left hanging on the roadway ... that flat tire. Another near hour later and he is home, and tells of the Godzilla trouble they (only one man came) had securing and hoisting this heavy awkward load. This had to do with the upward slant of boat trailer boards and the crooked nature of how it was all sitting, etc., and technical terms I didn't grasp. The man spent another 3 hours unloading it at the repair place. The bill was $700! Fortunately, being overly prepared as I have told you, The Himmer also had roadside insurance on the boat. Often people only insure a boat to tow it on the water. It is doubtful the trailer will survive. Apparently the motor may not have to be pulled which would have exceeded its worth. Upon the initial inspection, the man determined there was a coolant leak, but the oil leak may not be much. Our boat will wait until after Memorial Day. I get it that there are lots of big maroon ones being made ready. A good thing (?) is our boat may float another day, and I have come up with the perfect name for it. I thought of it while looking at it along the roadside. This is a Catastrophe! You thought it was going to be Godzilla, didn't you?