Just for grins S’man and I play a game of chicken. It’s a free dive challenge off the transom thru the murky waters below. The object is to reach ground zero (and return) grabbing a fistful of the clay like mud from the bottom as proof. The thrill is in the unknown depths where, even with eyes wide, it becomes very dark. More fear and less resolve as you leave the light; in another 8 feet it is blackness. Leaving the relative warmth of the surface therm it is ice cold. The pressure forces some water deeper into your nose and you can smell/taste the tannic acid. You know that you are close. You thrust downward thru the pitch in one last desperate grasp for the objective just as your exhausted lungs and nerves convince you to escape this deathly place.

She phones to say that the S’man doesn’t have to water the potted plants after all. Their plans to sail on a friend’s new Catalina 34 have been cancelled because Bruce can’t make it (illness). She says he’s parked on the couch bummed-out. “Tell Bruce”, if it will make him feel any better, “that I will be happy to substitute for him over on the bay!” (This probably won’t happen) Oh — he’s going to be in a mood all day. She’s in trouble…

(ripped in pieces) The old cover is retired. It lasted just over two seasons before the seams blew out, killed by UV.

The new one has very little cotton content. It will go twice as long. There is a concern about ventilation. The old cover allowed the moisture to escape. Osmosis.

Away that is! My fault. I’d positioned the mushroom anchor on the swim platform with the idea to set it as a stern anchor. S’man asked if he should tie it on now and I said naw. He had the right idea because when I accelerated the boat to our landing spot it slid aft and off — kur-plunk. Unfortunately, that’s not a do-over. It’ a gonner.

When the prop sniffs bottom, it lets you know with the most horrible of grinding sounds and pounding vibrations. A real attention getter because you imagine the blades mangled and the prop shaft tweaked. (On aircraft a prop strike includes a mandatory engine tear down!) With the local drought conditions and the low water, what was once navigable may now not be is not. Lucky no damage. This time.

M & D were visiting. We took them out on the boat last evening — which was an advanced (extreme?) activity for them seeing as how they are age-ed. All went well until S’man fell off the wakeboard. Whilst swinging the boat around to pick him up I met my own wake. With the engine at idle thrust the bow rides very low in the water and as it dips on the first wave it can submarine into the second sending solid water up and over the foredeck and even over the windshield where it unceremoniously ker-plops onto the heads, shoulders and laps of the unsuspecting seated occupants. M & D let out a yell and a “what the hell?” B.O.U.Ringirl gave me one of those pitiful ‘u blew it’ looks and H.D. girl further aft and safe laughed at us. We all looked like swamped rats and our towels — no help — direct hit.

I was redeemed however. After our ski rides and meanwhile back at the boat ramp pier, B.O.U.Ringirl was leaning over the port rail with a line trying to make us fast to a cleat when her sunglasses slid off and into the drink. Sunk into the murky depths. She was highly traumatized about this, they were $250 i-talian designer something or other. S’man and I took turns deep diving for them. I expected to find a muddy silt bottom we were 9 feet under but the ramp was steep and luckily concrete. It was strune with rocks and debris. You could not see your hand in front of your face. All you do was cling to one of these rocks to keep from floating up and grope about with your other free hand. Out of breath I came up with a metal rod (a corroded support bracket for somebody’s outboard motor). On another visit, a brown beer bottle. A cool one but unfortunately filled with lake. I set my findings on the dock making repetitive dives when *bingo* my fingers brushed against the lost pair and I hauled them to the surface, glorious.

S’man at speed with his wits and bare feet

Could be the beginings of a barefoot water ski. Tow speed equals your body weight divided by 10 and add 20. Now roll on to your side and pivot your hips around to bring yourself feet first and plant ’em. Don’t inhale the spray. Try not to wipe out.

Foot Slick, Loogy Lube, Moose Juice —- are lubricant brands aimed to help you glide your foot into snug bindings. I brew my own. A little dish soap and water does the trick.

I sent S’man into the kitchen to refill our supply. “Look for the green stuff under the sink”, I asked, and he disappears on his mission. When he returns, the flask is full but uncharacteristically cloudy and ::hold on a second:: its HOT! The contents have gone off (some kind of chemical reaction). I ask “What the hey did you put in here? — Welllll, I’m not putting this stuff on my feet!”

The girls figured it out. He looked for the ‘green stuff’ as instructed allright. Happens that instead of the LIQUID JOY he poured in the CASCADE (green box) dishwashing detergent powder. Mixes a nasty cocktail.

Meanwhile, the adults are splishing and splashing a short distance away the kids go aboard our boat. Next thing we hear is giggles and laughter, the engine comes to life. They cut anchor and away they fly! “Well honey…” I say wistfully, “there they go — all grown up. I thought that we were supposed to wean them and not the other way around. Damn! My cash, car keys, and credit cards are on there. (heading for the marina to score some beer before they hit the road? ;-)” They disappear around the lake’s bend and we listen to the diminishing roar of the vessel. Luckily the jokesters didn’t ditch us to tread water for too long.

(on holiday 😮 this is a repeat blog from a year ago)

S’man and I spied a slithering snake swimming, as we idled under the shadow of a roadway bridge. I went to neutral so as to get a better look at it but it dove from sight. We were wondering where it might choose to return to the surface. Decided not to tell the girls about the encounter.

(on holiday 😮 this is a repeat blog from a year ago)

We got nailed bya squall this afternoon (my first experience). Question for ya —- What does one do when there is thunder and lightning all around? Stay in the boat? Head for shore??

It got black in a big hurry and by the time we made it to the dock it was blowing spray off the tops of white caps. (very thrilling btw). We decided to leave the boat tied up on the leeward side where it rode easily while we ran for the cars. The rain hit just as we made cover. I hoped to hell that the lines didn’t come loose cause it would have blown down onto the rocks before I could have got to it. I found out that my fenders, which stick on with suction cups, are worthless when they get wet. The wind finally died and I could get it onto the trailer but I couldn’t help wonder what I would have done had it been busy and the dock full.