Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Put y’self in a boat!
Yo, Ho, put y’self in a boat, and you’ll have a story by-n-by.
I wrote a line in a song awhile back (Jan. 07) - “Yo, Ho, put y’self in a boat, and you’ll have a story by-n-by.” We did some motor swapping back in the fall, got a working 15-HP Yamaha on the fishing boat, then finally got the boat to the lake in April. We got launched at our marina, and I got the motor started and motioned to Deb to step in. She looked down from the dock and replied, “Uh-uh. I’m not getting in with all that water coming in the back!” WHAT? YES, I had put the plug in! But then it seems that while starting the motor, I had stepped on the live-well pump, and the nipple for the hose connection was old, brittle plastic, and had snapped right off. So we got the boat back on the trailer with some effort, and I was able to replace the pump that evening, but the wind was howling and the lake white-capping the next day, so no boating that weekend.
Due to some travel, the registration expiring, and some delay getting the boat and motor re-registered in Deb’s name from her brother’s, it was Father’s day before we could attempt to take the fishing boat out again. Jeff and I decided to try the north end of Lake Conroe instead of Lake Livingston this time, so we launched at the National Forest Service ramp off Farm Road 1097. It’s a difficult ramp to launch on - there are no-wake buoys about fifty yards out from the ramp; at 52 yards from the ramp, boats are going by full speed, still causing waves at the ramp, with no dock to tie up to, just high wooden bulkheads. At any rate, we got launched, tied to the bulkhead, to find - YES, I HAD forgotten to put the plug in! But we finally did get started around 4:30 that afternoon, with a fair amount of water sloshing around beneath the floorboards. I’ve got to install a bilge pump in that boat. Or a brain in my head.
After boating in a small boat one afternoon on Lake Conroe, I’ve got to tell you - I LOVE LAKE LIVINGSTON! Conroe seems to be full of those very wide, very deep, 20-25’ ski boats created mainly to make huge wakes, full of bronzed beauties (those are the guys - and some girls in bikinis, too), blasting very loud music I don’t listen to (Jeff thought it was Lady Gaga). But there’s a pretty narrow channel they have to stick to in that area due to stumps - after crossing a couple of wakes, we picked our way across the stump-filled middle part and got to the other shore. We tried fishing a couple of coves and were going along shore to the next one with Jeff watching the fish finder when he noticed what seemed to be a ridge with fish around it, so I decided it would be good to drift back over the ridge. I was planning on the wind to carry us parallel to shore over the ridge, but instead it pushed us into the shore a lot quicker than I had hoped for. As I was getting the motor re-started, Jeff was watching the depths again, saying it was getting shallow pretty fast, in fact, he could see a big rock right - a small wave lifted the boat, there was a soft thump, and we stuck. Backing up didn’t help; backing down with Jeff moved to the back of the boat didn’t help. Finally, I turned the motor all the way to starboard and gunned it in reverse, then the same to port, hoping that the prop wouldn’t hit another rock if we did pop free. After pivoting around a bit, we did finally slide off the rock and I steered away to deeper water, luckily with no bashing of the prop against the bottom. Whew! The fish didn’t seem to be biting anyway, so we headed back to the ramp, and got the boat back on the trailer before sundown. Looking at the bottom of the aluminum boat, there’s one slightly flattened shiny spot, wouldn’t really call it a dent, no real damage. But it’s inevitable - put y’self in a boat, and you’ll have a story by-n-by.