story time

i hate to see a empty thread, guess i will post one of my more interesting stories here

First you need know a little about my boat, it is a twenty foot pontoon with a 70 hp. But I am sure you have never seen a boat like it because of the twenty foot aluminum crane that we us to set pilings for the piers and boat houses that we build. Now the crane was constructed by the previous owner of the company and the way it was set up it pulled the deck slightly of the pontoons creating a leak in both of them but only when the bow is under water. We usually leave the boat in the water until the job is finished, but on this occasion a storm was a coming. So we quit a little bit early to pull it out of the water at a boat launch of a condo that we didn't exactly have permission to use but, it was only a quarter mile from the job site.

That is when the adventure began. The boat trailer went about ten feet past the sign that said no trailer tires past this point, but we launched the boat there so there was little concern. What a mistake, when we attempted to pull out the boat we couldn't get far enough on the trailer, we tried to back it up but for some reason the boat went at a 45 degree angle into the pier next to the ramp. Since we had a small crowed at this point I couldn't hit it, so the only option was to pull forward and check out what was causing the problem. As it turns out one axle of the two on the trailer had broken loose and was under the other at a 45 degree angle. We couldn't back up or go forward and had no means to lift the boat two feet to remove the axle so we cut it in half. Removal still proved much more difficult than we could have guessed. After deflating both tires cutting both the u-bolts, and hammering on them for quite a while we got it out only to find the other axle had some bearings that were blown out and could not be used. So we had no choice but to launch the boat and pull the poor trailer back to the job site. I tied the boat up back at the site and got on the phone to reach anyone who could help.

Luckily the man I bought the trailer from nine months ago is also married to a Hungarian, and has a three pontoon boats that he rents out during the season. He bought a new kind of trailer to manage these boats (it has two wenches instead of one, the normal of course pulls the boat forward and is used to secure it for travel, now the second is what makes it so special, you can jack up the deck of the trailer with a eight pulley block and tackle style apparatus, to understand it better it lifts and carries the boat by the deck instead of by the pontoons, this gives it the capability of pulling a boat out of water and carrying it to your destination then lowering the deck down to the level where the boat sits on the sand then you can drive out from under it) this is such an important point because the job site was a long drive from anything and he had to have the trailer back on monday.

So we sent out with his truck and trailer to get the boat, he dropped me off at it and proceeded to fort Morgan a nice state operated launch five miles west. All was fine until the engine died. Now I could make up any kind of story about why but I simply ran out of gas. I was going west to the fort and the current was going with me, going out strong. Their is a lot of bays and estuaries salt, brakish, and fresh that flow into mobile bay and when tide goes out it really goes fast around the point. So as soon as I realized what would happen (that I would be half way to cuba and on a boat with no lights or anchor and no help could get to me until well after dark at which point they would have a very hard time finding me) I started swimming, I tied a rope around my waist and swam with all my might towards the shore. I got out of the freezing (not literally freezing just fifty five degrees or so) water occasionally to look around for boats but none were close enough to hear my calls. Oh did I mention I forgot my cell phone at the house, for the first time in my life I was on a boat with no means to calling for help.

So an hour passed as I swam for my life and my boat (with out I could not complete this job or any other in the future for that matter) the whole while I was wondering if a man could possibly pull this boat or make any change whatsoever in its course. After the hour (which seemed like two or more) I climbed on deck and realized a few things, one I once again had an audience, they were on the state pier which was the second thing I realized, I missed the launch. With the two to three foot waves I had a hard enough time breathing to watch the horizon. I might note at this point that this area was about a half mile from the intercostal waterway that runs from the atlantic ocean to texas through a series of canals and bays that never quite reach the gulf of mexico. The only reason I mention it is because of the amazing "ghost waves" or "ship sea" that come from seemingly nowhere. The physics are hard to believe but those huge tankers go threw and twenty minutes later a three or four foot wave comes with no warning. So I watched as I missed my last chance flow by. But as I looked ahead I remembered the ship wreak. I don't know what era the ship sank in but I do know that there were five pilings with signs and solar powered red lights marking it. The boat was going fast and I had to pull the boat a little north to get to the first piling. I got a hold of it and stopped the boat finally. Now at this point I thought I could point the boat in the right direction and push with all my might and get the the next piling to the south (the direction of the shore). What a mistake. I did get a good look at the sunken ship which was pretty neat. I had a one and one half inch thick ten foot long steel pole we use for holding the boat still when we use the crane and I got the pole and put it in the wreak to stop moving, I tried to push south but the current was to strong and carried me further west. Now I was desperate and for the first time really worried. There were two more pilings on the far side of the wreak about sixty feet apart and I was going straight between them. It was my last chance to save the boat and time was short, all the rope I had was the four ten foot mooring ropes one on each corner. I guessed I needed three of them and since the front was easeyer to untie I got those off and dove to the back tieing the ropes as I swam for the last thing between mobile bay and a unscedualed trip to the carribian on a leaking boat which no one would look for unless I stayed on it. I was franticly pulling the rope looking for the end and trying to get to the piling as fast as possible, the rope was almost gone and I was still five feet from the barnicle encrusted piling, with on last pull I got the end and pulled it around the piling. The rope pulled tight, the piling bent under the strain of the incredble momentum the boat had accumulated right where all the water rushed around the point, since I had no time for a knot I held the rope with every thing I had left. I stoped the boat. It cost me dearly though, the barnicles on these things are not to be touched, they can be razor sharp and often the cuts from them are infected with unusuall bacteria. So the inside of both my forarms were cut with at least forty small cuts per arm, my left knee was missing two one square inch pieces of flesh (these injurys weren't all that painful but more deabilitating, I didn't realize how much I kneeled on the boat untill I couldn't), but the worst injury of all and the one that still hurts five days later as I write this is my right pinky toe. I am sure you remember my two peice custom made foot with that funny toe they couldn't put on right that sticks up, well when I was swimming with all my might I kicked the hell out of the rope that tetherd myself to the boat. I know stupid right, well of all the mistakes I made that day that one I regrete the most as I sit here with ice on my swollen, elevated, throbing foot.

Now what to do, the boat was secure but not in the fashion I would like. As long as the tide was going out the boat would stay pulling the rope tight to the southwest, but when the tide changed or if a strong ship sea came through the slightly leaking vessel might become a really leaking vessel. I am sure you know a boat at sea must be tethered between two points so it can't hit one or the other, of course I didn't have enough rope for that. So a new deadline and worry was added to my list. Despite the normal popularity of this launch I saw no boats which truly surprised me but its not yet really the time of year for serous fishing. But after I gathered all my personal things in a trash bag and tied it to an empty five gallon gas tank which I took to shore (the swim took about five minuets) I did see a boat, the last boat I wanted to see the coast guard. Now if I saw them when I was on the boat I might be slightly relived because they could tow me to shore. But my boat tags are expired, I have no anchor, and the fact that I was illegally moored to state property made me think they came to give me a ticket or three. Well I walked up the shore towards the pier and boat launch, the coast guard circled my boat a few times and came to the launch as well. I was more worried about a huge towing or rescue fee than the minor citations but the fact that it was unmistakably a commercial boat brought to mind something at the boating exam about losing your license due to gross negligence.

As I neared the boat launch my friend came to me with news of what was happening on shore. A concerned tourist (oh yeah their is a museum, and hundred year old fort, and the ferry that shares the same parking lot as the launch which undoubtedly added to the sizable crowd of those already fishing off the pier) stated that she was a nurse and informed the crowd that hypothermia is very serious and I was surly not going to survive if I tried to swim to shore. My friend Jason told her that I work in that water all week and that I was not wearing a wet suit by choice. He pleaded with her not to but she called the coast guard. Before Jason could even finish she approached me and apologized for doubting me then she handed me her cell phone and said the coast guard wanted to talk to me. After a little confusion the men on the boat realized there was only one man on the beach soaking wet in just his shorts carrying a trash bag and a gas can and the boat must be mine. I approached the boat reluctantly, maybe because of the impending fee or maybe because of my aversion to authority or maybe because of the giant forty millimeter automatic turreted machine gun mounted on the bow. The crew was two men and two women and the leader was only slightly perturbed, after a few minutes I assured him no one was in the water and no one was injured. He apologized that he couldn't take me on their boat due to new regulations but wanting him to leave I told him I could easily get my jon boat and tow myself in. Now the funniest part, one ambulance was there during the conversation with the coast guard but before they cast off another came followed by two fire trucks. The coast guard, two ambulance, and two fire trucks all for one idiot that didn't check his gas tank.

Getting the boat was barely interesting comparatively. But it was cloudy and dark as could be. As soon as Jason's boat was in the water (we used his instead of mine, I think he had had enough of my incompetence for one day) a huge ship sea like I never saw came over the state pier six feet out of the water much to the dismay of the night time fishermen. A sick feeling welled up in my stomach like the ghost wave eddying about the bay where waves should never reach. I was sure my boat was sunk after seeing that but it would be a fitting end to my first business to lie next to a semi historic shipwreck. We put out cautiously and guided by the red beacons that tell every other boat to stay away we found the boat still pulled by the ebbing tide away from the pole unscathed. I feel I should note that I couldn't see the boat until we were almost on top of it and I enjoyed one last moment of horror when I was sure the boat was gone before Jason spotted It as I was looking at the wrong piling. Hey I had a long day.

That's the story, it is completely factual despite how very embellished and amazing it sounds. We dropped the boat next to the poor trailer and left. I got home around nine pm and went to name day party (a wonderful Hungarian tradition) at one of my favorite mexican restaurants where we know the owner Ted who always forces numerous tequila shots on us whenever he sees us so he has an excuse to drink himself. Needless to say I felt alright after that. I think it was a good experience over all, I slept a little extra the next two nights and all my wounds are healing well except my toe which still has some blue on it. Oh and the two new axels with springs, hubs, bearings, shackle bolts, and equalizer yolks came to a mere 630.00 with tax. Not bad considering the home owner witnessed the trailer breakdown and insisted on compensating me on the spot with a 300 dollar check. To me that was the most amazing thing of all, I mean I have worked for some shady rich people and that act of random kindness refueled my faith in the human race and put a positive spin on the whole thing.