My boat-owning days? Water under the bridge

Have I ever mentioned how much I dislike recreational boating? Oh yes, that’s where I left off last week. It’s just that having one of those darn things, a boat of our own, went from being a nuisance, to being downright terrifying.

Unlike my father, we never ran out of gas, but then again there aren’t riverlike currents in a lake, or so I’m told. But the engine continued to be temperamental. It was difficult to start, but did pretty well once you got out a ways, or so I was always assured.

Because of the warm-up problems, the darn thing hated to go slow in no wake zones and would either demand speed, or die – there was no middle ground, or water. That wasn’t so bad on the lake. We could just drift out far enough to be able to gun the engine when it finally turned over – if it turned over. That was always my concern.

There is a current, however, in the Spokane River, and from the Post Falls Q’emiln boat launch one must immediately move upstream, away from the dam, through an endless no-wake zone. That turned out to be my wife’s favorite launch site.

After a discussion with the water patrol boys about her speed in the interminable no-wake zone, it became imperative to get the darn thing well warmed prior to leaving the dock, if we left at all. We had picnics at this dock, as well as the one at Hayden Lake.

One afternoon, after repeated attempts at keeping the darn thing going, impatience won out. Some poor soul, a former friend, if I recall correctly, was standing on the dock holding the mooring rope. With the engine idling in “neutral,” but trying to die, the wife revved it.

Neutral turned out to be forward, the darn thing shot ahead at a high rate of speed, the rope holder screamed, but did have the presence of mind to let go, the wife turned to look over her right shoulder at the scream, which, of course, caused her to crank the wheel to the right, which caused the darn thing to slam into the end of the dock, which prompted the darn thing to jump out of the water, tipping precariously to the left.

At this point, the contents of the darn thing screamed in unison and everyone in the park looked over at the spectacle. The no-wake zone be-damned, we headed up river at full speed.

I can’t recall now if it was before or after the dam experience, but we put on quite a display, too, when we managed once to clog the engine’s water intake with Hayden Lake weeds. We couldn’t figure out how to turn off the warning buzzer for the overheated engine, so we ducked down and motored back to the dock, wishing we knew where to find the owner’s manual.

That about did it for me, but the family still hadn’t had enough. They decided it would be fun to watch Fourth of July fireworks from the lake off Coeur d’Alene City Park. I was not there. I had been through plenty, so I sat at home and endured the neighborhood noise of illegal fireworks. The wife, however, took a son and two daughters out. I kept our youngest with me, to preserve the gene pool.

Getting out there was fine. They found a good spot just off the beach, surrounded by innumerable other nut-cases. The need for an anchor had not previously been realized, so jockeying to stay in place was an ongoing struggle. At one point it seemed that the fireworks were right there where they could reach up and touch them. That’s because they were.

The darn thing had drifted over to the fireworks barge and the expendable part of the family was rained upon by sparks. One of the more excitable daughters screamed at this point, dropped like a rock, and, I heard, spent the rest of the night flat in the bottom of the darn thing.

However, it was after the fireworks when things got interesting. The old-timers knew that it was to be a long night at the launch if they didn’t get there first. The innumerable engines of the other nut-cases all roared on at once.

The larger yachtlike things had no fear of the crisscrossing wakes that turned the lake into a seething sea. But the boat of our own was seriously considering just swamping to get out of the way. There was the storm of gunning engines, the pounding of waves, and complete panic on board the darn thing.

In the end, all came out physically unscathed, but it wasn’t until 2 a.m. that the darn thing came out of the water. I haven’t brought it up, but I’ve noticed that the past several Fourths have been spent at home, enduring the neighbors’ illegal fireworks.

All these experiences were a few years back, and there has been a lot of water under the bridge, so to speak. The wife and I have since divorced amicably, and there was no argument as to custody of the darn thing. I was perfectly happy to let her have it – a boat of her own.