Shawn Underwood | Severe Storm Watch | The Weather Started Getting Rough, The Tiny Craft Was Tossed

The Weather Started Getting Rough, The Tiny Craft Was Tossed...

My friend, Daisy and I have taken the plunge and purchased an inflatable boat. This was not just any craft, but a “gently used” 8 foot rubberized vessel. Our beachside neighbor, the crab catcher, inspired us to become crabbers when she brought her bounty of crab to the neighborhood potluck. Daisy and I were green with envy and immediately began planning our boat purchase while our husbands were out of earshot.

The boat dealer showed us a very fine looking craft and after much haggling on Daisy’s part we reached an agreement upon the price of our used vessel. I would have paid the asking price but Daisy was much more sensible with her cookie jar monies. Ernie, the grizzled boat dealer agreed to shuttle our boat home as we had no room in Daisy’s toaster which is commonly known as a mini van. Because of Daisy’s price haggling and my insistence upon the purchase of fashionable life jackets, Daisy was now quite tardy for a prior engagement. I noticed that Dan (Daisy’s husband) was gnashing his teeth when he picked Daisy up from boat dealer. I hoped they had a peaceful ride to Mercer Island in rush hour traffic in their time allotted fifteen minutes.

Ernie, the boat dealer followed me home with our new purchase loaded in his truck. Ernie and I dragged and pushed the boat down the moss covered stairs, causing me to silently review my steps for C.P.R. I followed Ernie, the boat dealer back up the stairs and thanked him for his help, I noticed he looked a bit haggard and pale and if possible, even more grizzled. Thankfully it appeared use of C.P.R. would not be necessary.

I received a phone call fifteen minutes later from Ernie, the boat dealer; he said we had stiffed him for one hundred dollars. Apparently my mathematical skills were rather rusty when I figured out the separate prices of the boat and the motor. The bargaining back and forth was very stressful for me, although Daisy seemed to enjoy it. I assured Ernie that I would drop off the money the following day and advised him to double check his accounts in the future. I was somehow compelled to offer him my advice though I was not sure he appreciated it.

After several days of dicey weather and rough seas we agreed to launch the yet to be christened Loligagger. The kids were beside themselves with joy and were anxious to try out the 3.5 horsepower engine. I told them that under no circumstances were they to launch the craft without instructions from the captains, Daisy and myself.

Daisy brought champagne and her brood to the launching spot. To my dismay, I saw that my foolish older son had taken the boat out for his own personal maiden voyage without permission; he gaily waved to us as he thrashed among the seas. He had blatantly disregarded my instructions, his excuse being that he had left the motor on shore and was merely rowing as opposed to motoring. He again waved madly from the rolling seas and shouted some inane remark about being the captain of his ship. I could not contain myself and shouted at him like a fishwife. He then crashed into the beach and we proceeded with the much anticipated christening ceremony. Captain Daisy and I read our 9 step instructions on, “how to start the engine”. The older boys scoffed and jeered until Daisy’s husband, Dan, shut them up with a withering look. After christening the boat, we regretfully postponed the launching of S.S. Loligagger due to inclement weather. The teenagers vigorously protested and derided our cowardly choice. I gave my oldest son a gentle love tap on the head and forced him to CARRY the Loligagger back to the storage area.

On the following day the weather was calm and we baited the crab pots with tempting fish guts. Surely the crab would enjoy this smelly feast. After much grunting and moaning we carried the Loli to the beach. The tide was out...way out, not good timing on our part. Daisy and I carried our rubberized boat for what seemed like miles to water. I had to rest at least three times at which point I reviewed loudly and clearly the C.P.R. steps that I hoped Daisy would use to revive me, as I soon expected to keel over. We then huffed up the bulkhead stairs from the beach and retrieved the motor.

On our maiden voyage we experienced quite a few communication problems while we bumped heads and tried to secure the motor to the boat. Captain Daisy read the step by step instructions on, "how to start the engine" and I followed her directions precisely. I turned on the choke and pulled the starter to the sound of silence, however after a few more vigorous pulls we were off and running. Not being used to this type of steering, I drove us in circles 5 or 6 times, to the enjoyment of the people on shore. Captain Daisy grabbed control of the steering and we headed in a semi-straight direction. We congratulated ourselves on our nautical prowess and spied in all of the windows of beachside homes.

After some debate and motoring in a few more circles we decided on a likely habitat for crab. Our decision was based solely on the location of nearby crab pots. We were not sure about the ethics of this type of crab spot poaching but decided in this case, ignorance was definitely the best policy.

We pulled the crab pots the next day to find them empty of crab and bait. Not to be dissuaded we called the previously mentioned neighbor, the lady crab master. She gave us further instructions but warned us about poaching on someone else’s crab spot. I wisely remained silent on this subject and we reset our pots discretely away from her pots.

Our boys took the boat out the next evening and discovered 2 keepers in our pots! Sadly our feast was postponed due to an interminable swim meet that went on until 10:30 p.m. Captain Daisy attempted to keep the crabs alive by sloshing fresh seawater in their bucket but they bit the dust before we had a bite. Animal activists would not be happy with fact that the crabs sacrificed their lives due to our ineptness.

Signing off until the next crabbing adventure.

Captain Shawn

Shawn Underwood, a native Washingtonian, writes humorous anecdotes for newspapers and magazines. If you are a member of the media or would like to use a story, please email Shawn.

View a list of all Shawn's stories online.