Abandon all hope ye who enters these paragraphs...I have a tale from the sea, so terrible that upon first reading, you would beg to have your most personal uncharted parts dry shaven daily, with the splintered skull cap of Blackbeard himself for all eternity…rather than read this tale again!
This story is based on fact but rendered inaccurate. The simple fact is it has been hobbled by my memory. I think it happened a long time ago. I best remember it as a tale of my courage and grace under fire…that is how my memory best serves me. Memory, I have found, is not a servant called upon to dutifully reply to my every need, but a jester that makes me look silly and the fool without effort, without fail, and without thanks...unless of course asked to recount a tale of uncommon valor.
Around 1975, I (a man of uncommon courage), Roscoe, Roscoe’s twin brother Joe, my brother known as Chuckles, and Roscoe’s big brother known as big John, ventured forth onto the devil’s waters of Eagle Creek Reservoir on a small 14 foot pontoon boat…an experience that would change us all (even my memory). We borrowed the boat from my dad and it was not in the best of shape - powered by a 10-horse unreliable aka "Johnson" motor. In today’s dollars, I would guess he paid around $2.00 large for the entire vessel.
We somehow launched the boat and went to Crappie Cove (as I will call it because we were going to catch some crappie). I was sitting at the head of the boat, the front part not fenced in, sitting in an aluminum chair cushioned with nylon straps next to Joe. He sat proud and ready to pitch in to help with the lines if need be…an able seaman if ever one lived. We were jointly in charge of watching for stumps and such and I also had the highly esteemed job of anchor boy…not a small responsibility when you consider that an anchor can keep a boat from falling off the edge of the earth and such. Never mind that it was a small mushroom shaped anchor which even in my young mind I considered to be of little prestige, but I was still in charge of something! My shipmates trusted me!
As I sat at the head of the boat, huge tackle box at my side, saddled with duties and responsibilities, I was proud and maybe a little cocky. My brother Chuckles was at the helm, holding onto the outboard’s tired and trembling arm. Roscoe was in his chair and Big John was sitting beside him in his chair. I have to think that Big John’s chair was not made of aluminum and nylon because even at 16 years old, the boy was not suited for a mere mortal’s chair…hence the name Big John.
We anchored off at a likely spot for crappies, bass, krakens, and God knows what else. And, there was a structure underwater and anyone worth their salt knows that where lies a structure, there lies fish. I tried every lure in my arsenal and nothing…not a soul on the boat got a bite. So, I was given the order: “Pull anchor and let’s move on up a ways."
I did so with much theatrics…a determined look in my eye, a certainty of purpose, feigned muscle strain, and finally laid the defeated anchor beside my chair. I was calm on the exterior, but barely able to contain my excitement about the coming order to “Drop anchor.”
Brother Chuckles had the old Johnson wound out and we had to be doing nearly 7 knots when all the world became confusing (more?). The boat began to dive nose first into the water. My legs were wet all the way to me bum. I looked behind me and at first saw the Johnson’s propeller spinning in dead air. I could count the spin of the blades. My brother looked very confused trying to shut down the power. Roscoe was holding tight to his pith helmet with both hands and his brother Big John was holding on to Roscoe with one hand and the side rail with the other.
Funny thing about big brothers…they can treat you like hell your whole life and all at once in time of need, they are protecting you from plunging into the depths of the devil’s waters…Gads, this is a long story!
GAW!
Here is what happened. Ole Anchor Boy set the anchor too close to the edge of the boat and it fell off while we were speeding down the cove. That wimpy mushroom anchor gained a tight purchase onto something underwater and almost made us end over end on our 14’ pontoon boat. My tackle box was swamped with water. I lost a hula popper out of my tackle box and the boys would not help me fetch it as it drifted into the stumplands. To this day I curse their names.
I lost some other priceless items but will refuse to hold a grudge. I think the boys were just frightened…an emotion I am unfamiliar with. However, I did recognize that look in my friends’ eyes. After we figured out what had happened, I was chastised for no good reason! Then, we went back to the ramp and unloaded the boat. Most of the crew was a little shaken. As I remember, I was calming them with cheerful words and distractions.
Did Tom catch this in Crappie Cove ??
Since Chuckles and Big John were yet young teenagers, we went to Shakey’s Pizza afterwards. The elders ordered a couple of their famous pizza pies with black olives and a couple of pitchers of beer. The youngin’s snuck sips of the beer when the help was not looking. We may have even sang along to the tune of "If You Knew Suzy" following the bouncing ball prompter on the big projection screen.
All of us changed one way or another that day. All of us were trying to forget or make light of our brush with death…all the while I was distracting my friends and sibling so as not leave their psyches damaged for life. I needed them to grow up normal and responsible…heck, one of them might need to bail me out of jail sometime! Keep ‘em sane was my thinking. But, no need to molly coddle the poor kids…just keep them sane.
Consider this tale of the sea and tell me it does not rival, if I may be so bold, the "Flying Dutchman"?
Dare ye counter? I think not!
It is said even to this day that if you venture into Crappies Cove late in the afternoon, you can hear a ghostly popping sound…said to be my lost hula popper searching for a safe purchase in my beloved tackle box.
Currently Crappie Cove is the home of our Eagle Creek Sailing Club!
All based on fact, I swear