Having just returned from the East Coast from a bit of combination leave/TDY I was looking forward to having this weekend (a 3 day due to Corps policy) off to catch up. True to form my buddy SGT Negrodamus called Saturday morning and asked if I would be interested in going fishing? After nailing down all the details like "Where do I get a fishing liscense here?" and "Do you have a fishing rod?" we were off. I got my liscense from the lovely folks over at Wal-mart and we went to the Stillhouse Hollow Resivoir.
On arrival Negrodamus ascertained that the local marina had a small john-boat for rental and we decided to try it out. The boat was about 12 feet long, flat bottomed, and came with a rather anemic 4 horse outboard motor. Now I did'nt realize that Negrodamus didn't have a clue about boating until he just kind of hovered near the thing on the dock beofre asking "Why don't you sit where all 'the works' are here?". Now I have not been fishing for over a decade but I have extensive experience with driving outboard engine boats from the time spent with my father out on Lake Shamineau. On request my brain frantially dredged up this little used info ad I was pleasantly suprised to find that I indeed did remember a few thing. Prime the gas line, engine switch in neutral, throttle to 20%, yank the cord and presto!
Feeling rather smug at this sucess we pulled out onto the lake and started looking for likely fishing spots. The lady in the bait store had suggested a few but I didn't give her much creedence as I too have been a bait shop employee and everything I ever told the fisherfolks was an outright fabrication. How the hell would I know where the fish were biting? I've been busting my ass in this damn shop all day! Nonetheless you have to give them an answer so I always had a few stock answers to give them. "Right off the smaller island and right on the bottom with a Rapala and a leech!" I would say full of confidence and secure in the knowledge that they would never blame me if they didn't catch anything and would credit me if they did:)
We found our spot and passed a pleasant hour and a half casting, drinking a few beers (in cans which always makes you feel more "down home"), and not catching a damn thing. We decided to check out another place for a bit before calling it a day. Since the new spot was a bit away I asked Negrodamus if he wanted to learn how to use the engine and drive the boat. We switched spots and I walked him through what he needed to do to start up.
Now a longstanding joke with SGT Negrodamus is that when you are around him you can always count on a large police presence. For the most part this holds true as he is continuously being pulled over or checked out by the cops whereas I am left alone. Is this because he is black and I am white? Probably, hard to say as he does speed like there is no tomorrow. Today proved no different, 2 minutes after he took over driving duties two game wadens "pulled over" our boat, made us stop our engine, and inspected eveything we were supposed to have with us. Finding nothing amiss they roared off and we restarted the engine to continue our fruitless hunt for fish.
About 1 minute after restarting, the engine sputtered and died. We both took turns attempting to get it going again to no avail. We were about 1/2 a mile off the nearest shoreline and a good 2 miles away from the marina proper with a single canoe paddle to get us back in. Taking turns we managed to paddle up close to shore and then attempted to walk the boat along the shoreline by pulling it on a rope. Due to the steep embankment and rocky nature of the shorline this proved futile. Since Negrodamus is not a strong swimmer and I am, I took the lead rope in one hand and got into the water pulling the boat behind me. (Yes this was faster than rowing I assure you)
After another 1/2 mile of this or so a fisherman and his son in a functional boat came by and towed us in. (Thank you kind sir, I was tired at that point). Once we arrived back at the marina dock the high school girl working there insisted that we move the boat over to the gas pump dock because we had to refill the gas tank! After arguing with her retarded ass for a bit we just moved it over there and asked for at least a partial refund of the rental fee. After paying for the gas used I received a refund of $1.50 out of a 35 dollar rental fee. Yep. Nice place.
Soaking wet, hot, and tired we climbed back into the Volkwagen of Doom and headed for home. Mission not quite accomplished.
(3 edits for this! man I can't type for shit!)