A Spill in the Drink

Bluffton Today column
March 3, 2011

I stand by my statement that rodents, a.k.a. ground hogs, should not be predicting our weather.

However, I will also acknowledge that in an utter coincidence, spring appears to have sprung. How do I know? Well, I’ve already had to repair something on my boat. Her maiden voyage of 2011 (in February!) wasn’t exactly smooth sailing. Let me tell you how it all went down. And, by “it” I mean my co-captain, and by “down” I mean, “into the river.”

As you know, the weather has been spectacular the last two weekends. My spring itch came early and I was ready to get Just Mine in the water, and the sun on my face. So, we gathered the necessary accoutrements – food, water, beer (which is really 90% water anyway), music – and we were underway.

We headed out and anchored for a bit, where I promptly took a quick nap – spring sun and the smell of pluff mud are like tryptophan to me. Once my snooze was complete we headed up (or is it down?) the river toward the Spanish Wells point. And that is when we got stuck. Literally. On a sand bar, that I swear to you was never there before.

Co-captain quipped, “I can see the bottom.” Silently I responded, “Thanks Einstein,” and willed him overboard. Much to my delight, he did sink into the sand and 12 inches of 55 degree water to nudge our vessel to freedom. (Apparently 55 degree waters, even if only up to your calves is still devastatingly chilly. More on that in just a minute.) Once clear, I started her up again and began the slow sputter to deeper waters. But alas, we were still stuck.

“We’re still stuck,” I said. And like the true trooper he is, co-captain swung his legs over again and made the quick plummet.

Unfortunately, my calculations were again off and we were actually quite seaworthy and resting upon about nine feet of water. Are you doing the math? Even LeBron James would be completely submerged at this point.

Luckily, co-captain’s cat-like reflexes kicked in - perhaps jolted by the 55 degree shock – and he grabbed onto the side of the boat mere seconds before being swallowed by the frosty beast. What he said next is sadly not fit for print.

What did I do next?

Well, I laughed. Because I was frozen (oh, the irony) and didn’t know what else to do. Frozen. I didn’t even extend a hand, or mind you, a life preserver. Nope, instead I watched him inch himself slowly around to the ladder, still repeating the not fit for print mantra he had adopted one minute prior. It wasn’t until he was back on the boat that I finally reacted. By then, it was a little too late.

Thank Poseidon, that I (obsessive-compulsive-needs-to-plan-every-moment-of-her-life-Courtney) have a man who is so easy going that he just shook off his brush with hypothermia and gave me a smile…

Until he began to thaw and noticed the deep bruising and scratches that began to appear on his forearm. Luckily for me, this was just about the same time that I noticed that he broke the bimini cover clip while tumbling. Whew, we’re even-steven again.

Mr. Bimini Clip should be feeling better any day now. He’s a simple $6.95 fix.

Captain Co-captain however, is still suffering from bruising to his limbs and ego (even more so now that the entire escape is documented in print).

So, as spring continues to flourish and that magical time of year - when our moments on the water begin to outweigh our moments on land - appears, remember:

1. Your GPS may be a liar too.
2. If I catch you in an awkward situation, I will definitely laugh at you. I can’t help it.
3. Stick with a guy who keeps a smile on his face, even after you forced him overboard, and laughed at him, and blamed the whole incident on your GPS.

Smooth sailing, my friends.