Dunkin Dumbutts
There was a story in the news today concerning two missing NFL players and another man who were missing after their boat capsized in the Gulf of Mexico this weekend. Hopefully that situation won't end in total tragedy. It's not uncommon for things to go terribly wrong when you're out boating and happily I can say I have been incredibly fortunate in this department.
Several years ago, probably about the third week of March, Jim and I went pond fishing one beautiful, but cold, Saturday morning. We went out to a farm pond and slipped a 10 foot aluminum boat into the still frigid waters with full intention of pulling some nice largemouths out of their winter retreat. Jim had fixed up a couple of swivel chairs on steel bases that would straddle the built in seats of the boat. I put my seat farther up toward the bow so I could give Jim plenty of casting room. The chair bases had a couple of steel angles that, when placed over the built in seat, would provide good stability side to side in the boat. Of course there wasn't a seat where I placed my chair, so it was up to me to make sure the base was oriented properly. As you would guess, I didn't observe this rule.
We had been on the water about a half hour before it had warmed up enough for me to take off the field jacket I had worn that chilly morning. I would be lying if I said we had on life jackets, since we didn't even bring one with us. We had fished along the levee and not had a bite so I decided to change my bait. I opened up my tackle box and got out something I thought would trick one of those lunkers onto my hook. I held my fishing rod between my knees and reached upward to tie on the new lure. Jim was fishing a worm off the levee next to some brush tops when he thought he got a bite. As I sat oblivious to his sudden change of luck, he proceeded with his signature hook set, which, to the casual observer, looks like a sudden onset of multiple Charlie horses and muscle spasms. This instantaneous rigidity results in his upper torso being flung backwards while his fishing rod bends double from the friction of the water on his line let alone the weight of any fish that might have latched on to the end of it. I would guess the whole thing could also look like somebody being shot in the chest with a cannonball.
Anyway, I went from looking at the bluebird sky to searching for light in the cold brown depths of the muddy pond. It was unbelievable just how quickly it happened. I kept looking for light in order to determine up from down. After a couple of seconds, I thrust my head above water, but just barely. The water temperature was probably in the 40's and it seemed to have sucked the heat out of my body in the initial seconds of immersion. I instinctively attempted to drown Jim who was dog paddling just enough to keep his head above water. (He later told my sister that he saw my life flash before my eyes.) I'll be the first to admit that I'm a lousy swimmer. Jim, however, is a strong swimmer but the icey water had our arms and legs moving in slow motion. Jim pushed me away (which was the right thing to do) and I made it over to the boat. As we tried to hang onto the boat, it kept rolling under and was impossible to hang onto. I told him that I was going for the bank and set off swimming as hard as I could.
It seemed like I weighed five hundred pounds as I slugged at the water trying my dead level best not to drown. Of course I was headed toward the levee which, while being the closest, was the deepest part of the pond with the steepest bank. I made it to a point where my feet could touch bottom and breathlessly waded up the levee. As I got further up on dry land, I realized that I was wrapped in fishing line. As Jim followed my path to the levee, I pulled on the fishing line and dragged a couple of Jim's fishing rods out of the water. I could imagine Jim sadly dragging my dead body out of the water and then suddenly be pleasantly surprised by the unexpected retrieval of his fishing rods. After we managed to somewhat regain our composure and get the boat turned right side up, we set about dragging the pond bottom for our lost belongings. My tackle box was floating on the surface but it had been open and the contents were dumped out. We managed to recover just about everything except the tackle that sank, one of my rods and the trolling motor battery.
Truthfully we almost died that day. I don't think I've ever been closer. Now, did I learn a lesson from all this? Absolutely. Make sure your chair is pointing the right direction when Jim's setting his hook and close your tackle box before tying on a new lure...and maybe wear a life jacket.
Several years ago, probably about the third week of March, Jim and I went pond fishing one beautiful, but cold, Saturday morning. We went out to a farm pond and slipped a 10 foot aluminum boat into the still frigid waters with full intention of pulling some nice largemouths out of their winter retreat. Jim had fixed up a couple of swivel chairs on steel bases that would straddle the built in seats of the boat. I put my seat farther up toward the bow so I could give Jim plenty of casting room. The chair bases had a couple of steel angles that, when placed over the built in seat, would provide good stability side to side in the boat. Of course there wasn't a seat where I placed my chair, so it was up to me to make sure the base was oriented properly. As you would guess, I didn't observe this rule.
We had been on the water about a half hour before it had warmed up enough for me to take off the field jacket I had worn that chilly morning. I would be lying if I said we had on life jackets, since we didn't even bring one with us. We had fished along the levee and not had a bite so I decided to change my bait. I opened up my tackle box and got out something I thought would trick one of those lunkers onto my hook. I held my fishing rod between my knees and reached upward to tie on the new lure. Jim was fishing a worm off the levee next to some brush tops when he thought he got a bite. As I sat oblivious to his sudden change of luck, he proceeded with his signature hook set, which, to the casual observer, looks like a sudden onset of multiple Charlie horses and muscle spasms. This instantaneous rigidity results in his upper torso being flung backwards while his fishing rod bends double from the friction of the water on his line let alone the weight of any fish that might have latched on to the end of it. I would guess the whole thing could also look like somebody being shot in the chest with a cannonball.
Anyway, I went from looking at the bluebird sky to searching for light in the cold brown depths of the muddy pond. It was unbelievable just how quickly it happened. I kept looking for light in order to determine up from down. After a couple of seconds, I thrust my head above water, but just barely. The water temperature was probably in the 40's and it seemed to have sucked the heat out of my body in the initial seconds of immersion. I instinctively attempted to drown Jim who was dog paddling just enough to keep his head above water. (He later told my sister that he saw my life flash before my eyes.) I'll be the first to admit that I'm a lousy swimmer. Jim, however, is a strong swimmer but the icey water had our arms and legs moving in slow motion. Jim pushed me away (which was the right thing to do) and I made it over to the boat. As we tried to hang onto the boat, it kept rolling under and was impossible to hang onto. I told him that I was going for the bank and set off swimming as hard as I could.
It seemed like I weighed five hundred pounds as I slugged at the water trying my dead level best not to drown. Of course I was headed toward the levee which, while being the closest, was the deepest part of the pond with the steepest bank. I made it to a point where my feet could touch bottom and breathlessly waded up the levee. As I got further up on dry land, I realized that I was wrapped in fishing line. As Jim followed my path to the levee, I pulled on the fishing line and dragged a couple of Jim's fishing rods out of the water. I could imagine Jim sadly dragging my dead body out of the water and then suddenly be pleasantly surprised by the unexpected retrieval of his fishing rods. After we managed to somewhat regain our composure and get the boat turned right side up, we set about dragging the pond bottom for our lost belongings. My tackle box was floating on the surface but it had been open and the contents were dumped out. We managed to recover just about everything except the tackle that sank, one of my rods and the trolling motor battery.
Truthfully we almost died that day. I don't think I've ever been closer. Now, did I learn a lesson from all this? Absolutely. Make sure your chair is pointing the right direction when Jim's setting his hook and close your tackle box before tying on a new lure...and maybe wear a life jacket.
Posted by TBF at 3/2/2009 9:37 PM 
Categories: History for 500 dollars
Tags: fishing capsized cold water
Categories: History for 500 dollars
Tags: fishing capsized cold water
Excuse me..........I think "The Skittles Incident" ranks right up there in the near-death ratings.
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You seem to misunderstand the purpose of this website. It is wholly intended for the embarrassment of others. Self-deprecation is at my discretion.
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We are embarrassed on your behalf, therefore the ultimate goal of the website has been achieved.
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Obviously then, my job is done. And done well, I might add.
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Naaaahhh...you ain't through til you tell the Skittles story.
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