Dangerous Logic

Stranded On The Sandbar

In much the same fashion as the Big Four parties here in the 'hood are flower_goddess's birthday, my birthday, Halloween, and Christmas, the Big Four parties at the Secure Undisclosed Location are Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Full Moon Friday, and Labor Day.

We arrived Sunday morning, leading Stiffy in her car via the Guaranteed Unreproducible Route, because she was cleared to be at the SUL but not cleared to know how to get there. We quickly got caught up with the other residents of SUL-ville, where we learned:

1. Kenny's boat is still a sore subject, because even though it's all fixed and running well now, he never got the drydock to own up to any responsibility for the problem. He ended up paying the whole tab himself - and he won't say how much it cost him.

2. Down the lane, Carmine's boat is running splendidly now that he's replaced the ignition system. However, you may recall the pattern where he fixes something, declares victory, uses the boat once, and breaks something else. So far, so good, but we shall see.

3. Some schmuck new to the addition had his boat out way too late and way too drunk the night before, and grounded it on the way back when he missed the channel approach. Since he was only about 40 feet out from the last pier, DA and Skunk-boy (who wisely passed up The Detective's margaritas this time, having learned his lesson last year) offered to toss a rope to him and help pull him off the sandbar. The offer was quite rudely and arrogantly rebuffed, so instead DA and Skunk-boy set up lawn chairs at the end of the channel and made fun of the schmuck as he spent the next half-hour extricating himself.

This is a variant of one of DA's pastimes: since his place is one down from the addition's boat launch, he gets a front-row seat as people try to put their boats in the water. Since most of them only do it once a year (every place in their addition gets their own slip, so they put in in mid May and take out in late September), they don't get a lot of practice. He will cheerfully help you get your boat in the water without breaking anything if you ask, but if you front that you know what you're doing when you in fact do not, it's open season for ridicule, and you're the one in feathers.

He wouldn't own up to that in so many words; he will admit only to wanting to make sure that nobody runs into his deck while putting their boat in the water.

Within the next hour, more day-trippers from the Fort arrived, including The Saint and BB and Mountaineer. Gunner and Cover Girl were already there, Gunner having participated in a shooting match at the nearby state park earlier that day (it occurs to me now that I never did ask him how he did). When we had enough people to load DA and Dimples' pontoon to 150% of rated capacity, we departed for a sandbar about 1/2 mile away around a point.

Just kidding. Actually, DA made two trips. Saint, Gunner, Mountaineer and I made the first run, to set up the floating bar. Unfortunately, the drunken schmuck from the previous night tied up his boat about as well as he drove it in the first place, and it had drifted far enough away from the dock to block the whole channel out. My simple suggestion for a semi-permanent solution - stick it right back on the sandbar he'd grounded it on last night - was overruled (and by 'overruled' I mean 'we couldn't find the keys') and we settled for having Mountaineer jump on board and pull it closer to the dock.

The sandbar where we hang out is only about thirty yards offshore from a pretty nice house whose owner is not too happy that the group from DA's addition tends to set up shop there. Once somebody explained that particular law to him - that he does not, in point of fact, own any part of the lake more than ten feet out from his share of shoreline - he pretty much stopped coming to his lake house altogether. Works for us. Anyway, once we got situated and the floating bar was set up, DA left to get the rest of the group.

When he had been gone long enough to make three round trips, Saint said "You know, DA pulls one trick per year. Maybe today is this year's trick, and he just left us here with one beer apiece while the rest of them drove to the Straits Tavern for the afternoon."

It's a damn shame he said that right after I drained my beer. Part II is here.

Posted by Chris at July 5, 2005 06:43 PM

Category: Tales Of My Neighborhood