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.