Boats - Part 1

My earliest memory of being in a boat probably occurred when I was 4 years old. The memory is pretty faded, but I remember it being a dark green john boat. I think it belonged to our cousin Larry. I also remember Dad trying to put me in the boat down at Diehl's from the lower portion of the dock. What stands out in the memory is that it was sinking.

Dad has always owned a Boston Whaler. Florida Sportsman used to have a Boston Whaler ad in their magazine with a boat sawn into 3 sections, each with a person safely floating on board. A Boston Whaler is styrofoam boat with a hard fiberglass shell. It probably isn't actual styrofoam, but something equivalent. While it isn't the smoothest ride across the water, you don't have to worry about sinking.

When we know that a storm is coming or there might be a chance for rain, we will just pull the plug out and let the natural bouyancy of the boat settle the water line. This way a deluge of rain or a breaking wave won't capsize the boat after filling it with water. The only drawbacks are that you need someone to run the water out before going on that next boat trip and sometimes the battery makes contact with the water. That phenonmenon is what H.D. and I refer to as "stingy water".

Since Saint Teresa is protected by Alligator Point to the Southeast, Dog Island to the Southwest and the reef directly south; there never really is too much surf. We are able to toss anchor in front of the house and leave the boat parked. It always seems like the time we have to worry most about the boat is when a storm comes at night. Dad always has a powerful flashlight that he can use from the front porch of the house to make sure that the boat isn't dragging anchor when the waves and wind pick up during a storm. When boats started to drag anchor during a storm you could always expect the men along the beach to come down out of the cottages and help each other out.

The boat has been a great teaching tool for responsibility. There were times in the past when I was a teenager when Dad wanted me to make sure that the boat didn't get beached. If I slept through a storm at night, I would spend the next day digging a beached boat out. Once you've had blisters from digging in wet sand you never want that experience again.

I learned how to drive a boat before I could drive a car. To this day you can see the lessons I learned. First lesson - a boat doesn't have breaks. Frederick Conrad and I took the boat over to the Alligator Point marina to get gas. When you are 14 or 15 years old, getting gas at the marina by yourself is pretty big time. When we were pulling up to the dock, I came in too fast and Frederick got distracted by someone saying "hey". We didn't hit the pier of the dock too fast, but hard enough to ding the bow of the boat. That "scar" is still on the boat today.

Second lesson - don't forget to pull up the anchor. I've heard of friends forget to tie the anchor on and tossing it into the open water, but I think I've got that beat. Late one afternoon Terry Nelson and I were both in our father's boats. I don't know where we were going, but he took off before me and I got in such a hurry to catch up that I forgot to pull the anchor all the way. I must have shorted it or something because when I took off the anchor came off the sand and right into the bottom of the boat - prongs up! Terry either heard the noise or saw me stop suddenly. He circle back over to where I was and asked me what was wrong. I could barely speak. I think I went into shock. When we figured out what happened we both dove under the boat and pryed the anchor out from the bottom. To this day there are 2 "tooth marks" on the underside of the boat. I am not sure if my Dad knows these stories. I hope the statue of limitations has been reached since those both occurred over twenty years ago.

Of course Terry Nelson also owns the worst boating accident story that I know. In Tallahassee on South Monroe street, just below the state capitol, used to be the "B&W Fruit Market". As you come down the hill from the capitol, the road transitions rather abruptly from hill to straight flat road. As I can recall I believe there was even a metal grate across the road where the hill part of the street meets the flat part. It is probably to help with runoff during heavy rains as it was quite common for the Market to get flooded.

Terry and I had a lot in common growing up, but when we got to high school he "lived it up", while I always was in fear of stepping out of line. It must have been when were in the 10th grade. I remember that the Key Club was having the annual bahamas dance at Lafayette Park gym. As was quite common growing up, my parents took us to either the beach or river when there was a social event in town. I guess it is better that we weren't sitting at home. Terry was going to go to the dance that friday night and then come down with his father the next morning. We had already made plans to go fishing for specs that Saturday afternoon.

Saturday morning rolled around and no Terry. I kept checking over at their house, but no sign. When they finally arrived you could tell something bad had happened. It seems that earlier that morning, Terry's Dad asked him to hitch the boat to the back of the truck. Terry was probably a little foggy that morning and forgot to roll up the front wheel of the trailer that you use to bring the trailer to the hitch without having to lift the front. As they were driving across town and came down South Monroe, that front trailer wheel, still cranked down, caught the part of the road where the hill ends and the flat part of the road begins. Right in front of the B&W Fruit Market, the trailer detaches from the truck and sails into the back of a car parked along the street. The momentum of the moving trailer stopping suddenly in the back of the car sends the boat airborne into the wench of the trailer - completely gouging a hole in the bow of the boat all the way through. Fortunately, no one was hurt. But Terry Nelson, a Boston Whaler, and the B&W Fruit Market are forever tied together.