The Boating Incident
/The Boating Incident
Like all up and coming Texan men my Daddy dreamed of one day owning a boat. We would go to the lake and he would gaze longingly on the boats speeding across the water, swift and shining in the sun. A boat opens up so many doors; fishing, drinking beer and fishing, racing up and down the lake, floating on the lake, towing it to the lake… lots of things to do with a boat.
A boat, to my daddy, was a symbol he was doing all he could for us, enough to buy the luxury items.
So one fine day Daddy got a bonus at work and went boat shopping. Not being a rich man he sadly had to skip all the new boats with shiny glitter finishes and settle for a used boat, an older model blue with light blue trim, but not a bad boat.
We were all so proud the day he pulled up in the driveway towing that boat behind his old truck. Although there was a fair bit of surprise to go around too. For while he had always talked about a boat he didn’t tell anyone he was actually planning on buying one. Even though he hadn’t said a thing to my mother before hand we all knew what had happened. We had arrived.
Each weekend you could see him in the yard, washing and polishing that old boat trying to make that faded glitter shine in the sun. He actually cut a hole in the back wall of the garage for the trailer hitch so the entire boat could fit inside, protected from the weather. The faded blue tarp just wasn’t enough to keep his baby safe. My brother and I were forbidden to play in the boat, but we’d sneak in anyway. We would turn the wheel and pretend to be Captains of the Lake. The strange blue Astroturf deck of the boat felt crunchy and grand between our toes as we swiveled back and forth in the blue vinyl captains chairs.
Finally Daddy just couldn’t take it any longer; he had to get his beloved boat out into that water. We hitched up the boat trailer and away we went down the road in high spirits and feeling fine. My uncle Larry had come down with us to help Daddy get the boat into the water and back out again, besides he knew all about boats he had been a cook in the Navy during Nam.
The day was overcast and when we got to Lake Livingston the water looked gray and forbidding, a brisk wind was blowing and the water seemed a bit too choppy for sailing, but that wasn’t going to stop Daddy taking his prize out onto the water for her maiden voyage.
It took over an hour to get the boat winched down the concrete slip. Daddy just backed up down the slip until his back bumper was nearly touching the water and the boat trailer was submerged. There was much swearing and yelling between my parents and my uncle as they tried to get that boat into the lake, but finally it was done.
Uncle Larry drove the truck and the now empty trailer over to the parking area as Daddy tried desperately to get the boat to behave and not crash into the shore.
Since the water was so rough it was decided by the adults we children should wait on shore for this first trip out. Mom and Daddy would take the boat out alone and we could go another time. Uncle Larry was voted to stay with us kids, so we didn’t wander off.
I was terribly insulted. Me, a big girl of nine years old being left on shore so they could go have all the fun! How dare them! But it wasn’t my choice so I pouted alongside the shore and secretly thrilled at thoughts of driving the boat through those choppy waters, bouncing and hollering all the way across the lake going as fast as I could.
At the last minute just as the boat was pulling away my little brother Ray ran out and jumped like a frog right into the boat. I couldn’t believe it, and as my parents weren’t bringing him back to shore they just went on without me. It so wasn’t fair.
I wasn’t in the boat so I’ve only heard tell of what happened next, but all three stories pretty much matched up so I think this is the way it went…
The water was rougher than it had looked from shore so Daddy had little choice but to take the boat out into the lake or risk bumping into the shoreline. Daddy wasn’t about to turn around and admit the water was too choppy to try to take the boat out for the first time, so he just gamely gritted his teeth and started slowly giving it some gas. Of course, this was an older boat and he hadn’t yet driven it so he laid on a bit too heavy with the throttle and the boat lurched and speed away from shore going way too fast for the condition of the waves.
Mom was yelling “Slow down, you’re going to get us killed,” but it seemed like Daddy just wasn’t able to.
The throttle was stuck all the way open.
On increasingly choppy water is not the time to find out the throttle sticks on a boat. The tiny craft bounced on the water, lifting and slamming back down into the lake and soon they discovered another problem.
The motor of the boat wasn’t anchored properly to the back of the boat and with every swoop it lifted almost off the back of the boat, bouncing up and down in and out of the water. Soon the motor started to smoke and sputter, but still the propeller spun full out and spurred the tiny boat faster each tine it dipped back into the water.
Convinced the motor was going to get knocked clean off mom went and tried to hold it down, nearly falling overboard herself several times and more often than not hanging on to the smoking motor more to keep her steady than to keep the motor in the water where it belonged.
So, now they are cruising along at top speed on rough choppy waters, being tossed around like puppets while the motor threatens to fall off the boat or burst into flames as it is overworked.
My mother is screaming “For the love of god Rayburn, slow this damn thing down!”
Ray-B, my little brother, meanwhile is flat on his stomach in the bottom of the boat shrieking like a scalded cat, crying and screaming, “Oh God, I’m too young to die!”
Daddy is still struggling with the throttle trying to get it to unstuck and move down to a slower speed, with little luck. Mom finally figures out something is wrong and goes to help him, so now they’re both struggling with the throttle as my little brother shrieks and gibbers.
Daddy has never been very patient or good under pressure, so he finally gets so fed up he grabs the captains chair and casually rips it out of the deck, bolts and all yelling “Dammit Ray, be quiet! Patty, we’re taking this boat in!”
And with that he aims the boat back towards the concrete ramp they brought it down.
Mom grabs his arm shouting to be heard over the scream of the motor and the whine of the wind, “No! You can’t take it back up that way!”
“The HELL I can’t!” Daddy shouts back and squints one eye and with a determined look on his face stops fighting the throttle. He grimly steers the now battered looking boat dead ahead toward the now empty boat slip.
Now, up to this point I was furious! Here they leave me on shore and all I can see is them gamely flying over the waves and shouting and hollering in what I assume is glee. I’m stomping up and down and yelling at the top of my lungs, “It’s not FAIR!”
About that time Uncle Larry frowns and says, “He ought to know not to take those waves that fast. Something must be wrong.” His face turns pale as he sees the boat angle sharply back to shore and back towards the concrete ramp.
“No! Rayburn don’t!” He yells and starts running towards the slip. I of course sprint after him so as not to be left out again.
When we are about half way there the boat runs aground with a screeching and terrible grinding sound.
Ray-B leaps out of the boat like it’s on fire still wailing like a siren, “We’re all going to die!”
Mom and Daddy are arguing like wet cats in a sack as Uncle Larry climbs in the boat to try and help turn the motor off. After hitting the throttle with a wrench a few times it finally releases and they are able to turn it off. After much yelling on everybody’s part, Mom and Daddy arguing, Uncle Larry trying to find out what happened, Ray-B screaming about our parents trying to kill him, and me shrieking over being left on shore and missing all the excitement: everyone was near their limit.
People were stopping to look, which I think is what ultimately cause my father to say, through gritted teeth, “We’ll talk about it in the car.” Now, when Daddy got that tone in his voice we all knew we’d best be quiet real quick.
In jaw grinding silence Daddy and Uncle Larry loaded the boat back into the trailer and we headed for home. Mom tried to talk to Daddy about the incident, but he made it very clear he didn’t want to hear it, so we rode the rest of the way in silence with me looking out the back window watching that boat I would probably never get to ride in rock along behind us.
The next weekend Daddy hitched the boat back up and drove off, only to return a few hours later without it. All he would say was he put the boat in storage, which we all knew was a lie. It was like being told your puppy had run away when you knew damn good and well it most likely died, but no one wanted to admit it. That boat was my Daddy’s puppy, and he just couldn’t bear to admit he’d had to put it down.
I’m not actually sure what happened to the boat after that; Daddy never spoke of it again. And there was no more talk of getting another boat by anyone.
Apparently as a family we weren’t too seaworthy. Oh Well. The are other things to do in Texas.
