Too Close For Comfort

In our American way it is a custom that a child is taken out boating before the age of five, and many times afterwards. My father, a lover of the unique atmosphere the sea provides, and having spent much time upon the entire range of boats, (including crab fishing in Alaska), stayed very true to this doctrine. In the summer last my father decided he and I needed adventure. I gave the typical response of a teenage boy and asked if we were going “to clean out the gutters,” or some other horrific task he would deem adventurous. He ignored my sarcastic remark, and before nightfall we were prepared to leave on a three day trip to Neah Bay; by boat.


Although you may have been boating any number of times, you never really adjust to the rude awakening at 2:00 AM, which makes you seriously consider using powerful sedatives on those who did the waking. As I tried to convince myself that three days was only 72 hours away, and at that point sanity would return to my life, I forced myself out of the twin sized bed, and unconsciously followed the smell of hot cocoa.



Instead of gold or some other rare or valuable substance at the of the scent trail,
I found my father, strangely awake for the hour, and very excited. As I was about to pass this alert state off as an old sailor habit, I noticed the half empty pot of Folgers coffee. I thought to myself “cheater,” and prepared myself to leave.



Now, as in any good boating trip, as soon as we left we realized we had forgotten something, although I can’t remember what it was. Since getting the boat out of the driveway was so tedious the first time, I was forced to run back for the elusive item. From that point until the boats inception into the water went smoothly.

To be truthful I will have to admit to my audience that for the sake of saving paper I have condensed this recollection to a fraction of its former horror, leaving out incidents included, but not limited to:
30 foot waves.
The mysterious wall in the middle of the ocean.
The encounter with the Coast Guard, (with M-16’s included)
… and a great deal of cursing.

The only ordeal I am going to include started out innocently enough with a flock of birds. Less than one day’s journey from home my father and I realized that my mother had over-packed, as usual, and so we had plenty of our Safeway Brand wheat bread to share with the seagulls. Apparently the birds either did not notice, or purposely ignored, the bread we tossed into the sea.

Of course my father, always wishing to play the investigator, traveled closer. A horrible mistake. Now, whether or not the birds knew of the obstruction hidden in the oceans depths, or what exactly the obstruction was, remains a secret to me. The only fact that I can give you is that whatever it was, it had the structural stability to beat our new propeller to a pulp. And so here we were, stranded, and better yet, very near a ferry lane.
I knew as soon as my father attempted to lean over the boat side and somehow manage to remove the busted prop from the engine that I would have to do this myself. As I fiddled desperately with the useless piece I began to regret my “courageous” decision to take on the hard parts. Hanging upside-down so that the blood rushed to my head, I was informed that a ferry had just passed by. Obviously my dad had not yet realized that for the past ten seconds my head had been completely submerged by the wake of the large ship. When I came up and heard what he was saying I replied “No kidding.” I had decided the ferry was much too close for comfort.