asking how cold it was the whole time
Ah, Tom, ol' buddy, you're such a kidder. That's another thing friends do - we kid. As I recall... Tom had graciously allowed me some time at the helm. It was a bit confusing to this sailor boy, especially looking out and seeing mountains on all sides of us (how the hell do you do line of sight navigating when everything looks the same and there's no sun to be able to tell what direction you're going???). The depth sounder went from 800 feet to 200 feet to 40 feet in a matter of seconds. I pulled the throttle back to idle and said, "I'm not comfortable with this. I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be going." (Since Tom told me to head THROUGH an area on the chartplotter that was
brown... as in
dirt) Tom laughed at me and said, "I've been running these waters for years. I know every nuance... every wave... every inch of shoreline. Step aside, rag-bagger, and I'll show you how a real mariner does it. Hahahahahaha!"
And then promptly stuck it in. In Puget Sound. With more water 10 feet off the shore than we have 20 miles off shore in the Gulf.
Then, while crying like a little girl, he said, "We're all gonna die!" He looked at me and said, "This is all your fault! You and your damn 'I wanna go for a boat ride' crap! (for full disclosure, Tom invited us... tapped me on the shoulder at the boat show and said, "You wanna go out on one of these boats?"... for which Joan and I have been eternally grateful, and previously had not related all the details of this incident... but, as usual, I digress) Now what are we gonna do?" He looked at me and said, "I'm the captain of this ship. You jump your candy-ass overboard and push us off this mess we're in!" Susan came to my rescue by saying, "Tom, these nice people are our guests. You could have taken the right way around, but noooooooo! You got us into this, now get over and start pushing!" He wimpered for a moment, she gave him a stern look, and he was in the water in a shot. I said, "The shock of the cold water will probably kill me, and these are the only shoes I brought on this trip, but I can sure help him push." Susan said, "If he ever wants to see the inside of the bedroom again, he'll push harder." Hearing that, Tom gave a mighty shove and the boat began to move. With Susan at the helm, and the boat pointed toward water where short-legged birds weren't standing in it, we were soon free. When we got Tom back on the boat, I offered him my coat (he was wearing only a sweater in 47º weather), but he said, "No, I'm f-f-f-f-f-fine. The w-w-w-w-water wasn't ba-ba-ba-ba-bad," with teeth chattering behind his blue lips.
Back at the ramp, Tom said, "I suppose all my friends are gonna hear about this?" I reassured him, "Not from me." He said, "I wouldn't want them to think I'm a real dumbass." Susan said, "They already know."
Joan and I thanked them profusely for taking the time to show us all the capabilities of the boat. Tom said, "Well, that's the way we Northwest he-man mariners do it." As they drove away, I think I heard him say, "Honey, I can't feel my feet. Do you think my toes will fall off?"
The next day, we went back to the boat show and bought our boat. So, truly, we have Tom and Susan to thank for that. And that's why, until he brought it up
again, I have not related the mostly true story... as I remember it. Oh, and the reason Tom likes Joan - she remained quiet through all of that. Joan tends to be very quiet when in stressful situations.
Oh, and here's a shot of Tom's boat before he got the C-Dory...
Warm wishes,
Jim
