So I might have made mention in a few other posts about a boat we once had. It’s a two parter because it really takes two posts to explain the sheer amount of hell and pain this boat brought into our lives… Grab yourself a beverage, perhaps a snack? Enjoy.
It was a blue and white 1970-something Glastron ski boat. It had sat uncovered, in a sad state, in my husband’s step-dad’s back yard for nearly 10 years, slowly becoming more and more of a disastrous pile of crap. A few years ago, it was given to us as a gift. We were consoled that it would be hard work, but not expensive work.
We started out in February or March driving the hour down to step-dad’s house every weekend and performing the laborious task of rebuilding this thing. The hull was fiberglass and was still in great shape, we just had to redo everything else.
For the first few months, every time we went to work on the boat, it began torrential down-pouring. We’re talking monsoons. For HOURS. Needless to say, it was a weekly nightmare that I was finding harder and harder to endure, even though with the men folk on the job, I was only given the simpleton tasks of holding flashlights, handing screwdrivers and being the go-fer.
We eventually got it hauled to our house where it was left in just my husband’s and my hands and I got to finally start helping do the fun stuff. Laying new carpet and upholstering the cushions (my sister helped me with the cushions ❤ thanks Jo!) and cleaning it up and making it look like a boat again.
Come April, we decided we were in great shape and started planning a trip to Lake Cumberland, Kentucky over Memorial Day weekend. We would park the boat and camp on the shore somewhere. It would be fun! We had a few months to get it in shape. No problem, right?
Well this is about the time where everything started going wrong. We had motor problems, electrical problems, title problems (NOTE to strangers: I would advise against calling my husband “sweet heart” in a condescending tone whilst telling him you won’t accept his title because you aren’t privy to current Ohio law.) It was like a National Lampoon’s movie… I even ripped a hole in 3 different pairs of pants on the same damn nail sticking out of the side of that boat.
Two nights before we’re due to leave for Kentucky, we get the boat running for the first time.
We hooked that bitch up to step dad’s Durango (we didn’t own a vehicle that would tow the boat at the time) and drove it to Grigg’s Reservoir where we would put her in the water for her maiden voyage. In other words, to make sure she didn’t sink before we got to Kentucky.
We were driving up 3C, which is a relatively busy road. I was riding shotgun with step dad so Travis could watch out the back window. All of a sudden, I heard this loud “whirring” sound. The truck began to shake and then BOOM!!! CRACK!!! SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPE!!!
I started screaming. This was the most reasonable thing I could think of at the time. “WHAT THE %$&# WAS THAT?!”
Oh, you know… it was just one of the tires on the two wheeled trailer falling off and rolling up the road past us.
Step dad literally drags the trailer, thankfully still hitched to the truck, into a butcher shop’s parking lot. (There’s still a huge scrape on the concrete there!) Travis leapt out of the truck and ran into oncoming traffic while people were honking and screaming. Travis is trying to find the lug nuts on the road as cars are whizzing by, three inches from his face. He finds the first one, reaches down and picks it up and burns the ever loving shit out of himself. (Friction tends to heat things up.) Screams. Obscenities. I think I might have begun crying at this point…
Eventually after our brains began to function again after the shock of dragging a one wheeled boat trailer up a major thoroughfare in the largest city in Ohio, we jacked the trailer up using cinder blocks we found in the ditch (how fitting at this point); put the tire back on after only finding 3 of the 4 lugs. (There was an O’Reily’s Auto Parts right next door, they didn’t sell lug nuts.) Then we towed the bastard onward to our intended destination.
By the time we get to the reservoir it was dark. We back the trailer into the water and she slides off the trailer and into the water. I held my breath for what seemed like 10 days…
She didn’t sink.
I was a bit hesitant to get in it. But I did, and then step dad proceeded to open the throttle all the way. In the dark. (It’s illegal to operate past idle speed past sunset.) I was white knuckling it, holding on for dear life. I turned around to give Travis an “OMG” face and see he is pulling a Titanic. He was standing up with his arms out in the air, like he’s on his way to freedom. Unfortunately this won’t be my last reference to Titanic before this story is over…
After we were 60% certain it wasn’t going to send us to our watery grave, we slung her back onto the trailer and drove off like maniacs since the park rangers were heading our way. Crisis averted!
Two days later, we packed up our friend Tim’s van, hitched up the boat and drove off into the sunset, Kentucky bound! Unfortunately we got stuck in Cincinnati rush hour for over three hours (without air conditioning in 90 degree weather) and ended up way behind schedule and had to get a hotel the first night. After suffocating for hours in the van, we swam in the pool that we had to ourselves for probably another three hours! That was the best part of the trip…