Breakdown, Breakdown…

Well, we’ve had some happy hours here at the cottage. And a few unhappy hours too. Just the usual dozen garden variety of personalities in a 4 bedroom cottage that is 107 years old and without any soundproofing or much in the way of privacy.

My cousins are here as is my brother and for old times sake I decided to see if we could get the outboard going seeing as everyone has become afraid of the launch (Cloud Nine). The launch has a reputation of being high upon a pedestal and for obvious reasons, it has enormous sentimental value as well as being a gorgeous wooden boat. Not exactly an antique, but priceless nevertheless, unless you have a cheque book and then, well, I don’t know how much it would cost. A bit I suppose.

Anyway, my father has fixed the gearshift and checked out the rot in the transom (Back part of the boat where the motor is—a rather important part, especially in a wooden boat that has sunk once before). Naturally, the ‘it’s fine, take it for a spin’ suggestion is coupled with ‘bring your lifejacket and keep an eye on shore’. Reassuring. But the boat is fine.

So, back to my story about the outboard. My father graciously offered assistance in getting the boat in the water (which involved pulling Cloud Nine out of the slip and anchoring it for a bit) and getting the outboard engine ready. (Of which my cousin said, well, I think it might have had some problems when I put it away a few years ago, but I’m not sure.) And of course, in my life EVERYTHING mechanical ALWAYS comes with that little disclaimer which sucks hours out of my life in terms of repairs and tinkering and me generally feeling like I really don’t know what I am doing, but know just enough to realize just how confused I really am.

Like when we got the outboard in the water and I couldn’t recall how to get it in gear. Not on the bar thingy, but a lever. Right. Well, I’ve looked dumb before, it isn’t new to me. And I really wanted the outboard to go bombing around in. I figured if it was in the water, people would go out and do fun stuff. I don’t think anyone is afraid of a tinboat with a 9 1/2 horsepower motor. I mean, the thing isn’t even painted all the same colour.

Anyway, dad took it for a short spin, I took it for a short spin and we decided that there was air coming in through the gas line. So, we found a spot to pull it ashore since the dock and boathouse is rather full. I came down later and borrowed dad’s gas line from his outboard on his sailboat and tried it on the outboard. Well, after finally figuring out where the engine lowering lever was and how to work it, I got her going and even remembered all the little nuances. But it kept stalling, even with the new gas line. So then I thought, well it hasn’t been used in awhile, so maybe it just needs to be opened up a bit out in the bay. On the river you can’t go more than 9km/hr, which really isn’t opening up even a little 9 ½ horsepowered outboard. Hell, I can probably swim that fast. (Okay, okay for like a few feet and then I’d be exhausted from swimming that fast.)

Anyway, as soon as it got going, it would putter out. So, I kept starting it and going and it kept stalling. Well by the time I got close to the bay—finally—I was realizing that it didn’t really need a run, it needed professional, experienced help and I wasn’t it. And that that kind of help was upstream, standing on the dock.

So, I began the tentative start and stall journey or trying to turn it around and get going back. Well, that was okay, until my arms now tired from pulling the cord, pulled the freaking cord right out! Nuts! Thank goodness I put paddles in the boat like dad suggested!

Only problem was that the wind had picked up so I was fighting a large wind in a heavy tin boat and going against the current. Paddle as I might, I was not going anywhere! I looking frantically towards the boathouse still in sight. Please, notice that I am paddling. Please come and get me in something with a motor! I’m even on the wrong side of the river!

Oh yes, I forgot about the people on their nice balcony on their nice little boathouse—I was only admiring it this morning during our canoe ride—and their lovely audience. Like I need an audience while being a moron. Well, not a moron, but a very frustrated feeling nincompoop.

I had a game plan in mind since paddling back was pretty much out of the question. So, I was going to somehow get from where I was to a friend’s boathouse—upstream from my audience—and borrow their canoe to go back and get help.

So after wading in the shallows, pulling the boat and almost immediately remembering to pull the engine up, they started asking if I had a problem. being really windy now, I could hardly heard anything and was feeling frustration mount and could not really trust my voice. So, I stated that I had more than one problem. But they already knew all my problems and began to list them off for me. (Thanks, by the way. You had the right idea, but were off on a few of them.)

And as helpful as they were (they even offered to tow me) along comes my dad in the launch (YAY!) to rescue me. Spying the wooden boat, they abruptly vanish. Okay. Intimidated much? Yes, we look like old Muskoka. And I guess grandma is. But the rest of us, not really. We ain’t rich, honey. We don’t have big, fancy jobs in Toronto and we never eat lobster unless we go to Red Lobster. Which, by the way, we don’t.

So, dad gets me tied up and guess what, the clouds open up and downpour. Wearing a white shirt of course. Drenched by the time we get back.

And then I get a little commentary on basically what I had already discovered on my own. Doh. So, put the boats away and was ready to give up for the year, but dad who is a big proponent of getting back up on the horse discovered several problems within a short period of time. No problem is out of reach. It is fixable. So, basically: need parts. Lots of ‘em.

So, drenched and feeling disheartened, went up to the cottage where lots of teasing ensued. I think I did okay. I told them I swam all the way back with the painter (front line on the boat) between my teeth, against the wind and current in the pouring rain. Unfortunately, the seat of my shorts were not wet, so they didn’t believe me. Probably also because my dad had come up for the key for Cloud Nine previous to that.

So, long story short…broke another mechanical item. Anything left that I haven’t done in?

A Family of Actors

Nobody in our family is an actor, yet I am sure that we could all earn ourselves an Oscar (or at least an encore) today. Put eleven strong personalities in a four bedroom cottage with two more people to arrive tomorrow. Ay Karumba!

But I don’t want to act, I am real. And since when do I feel responsible for telling people to act nice? What the hell?

There is Nothing Like Friendship

Sometimes there is just nothing better than sitting around with good friends. Nothing like breaking bread with them.

A nice lesson along the same lines as friendship is the value of keeping the door open to people. And what I mean is that when someone is going through a tough patch and acting like a mean moron, don’t necessarily write them off. There are a few people in my life that I could easily have written off during their hard times, but by sticking by them and being nice in the face of rudeness and jerkdom, but still sticking up for oneself (and sometimes telling them that they are being a jerk), I still have them in my life. Their rough patch is past history and I still have a friendship that I cherish and enjoy laughs with them. It is almost like our relationship is better now. It is as though seeing someone at their worst makes it easier to be their friend. And there is a trust. And a deeper connection to those people.

Of course, there are some people that I have cut loose. That happens. Some people aren’t worth sticking by because they morph into a person you don’t want to be around or be associated with because they are being big jerk-offs with absolutely no morals. But that’s another story. I still don’t know what to do with them.

Later:

Okay, I just have to say this: I LOVE Meg Cabot’s blog. She is so funny and light hearted. I wonder what she is like in real life? And here, you gotta check this out. (Note in Feb `08, sorry that site seems to be gone, but they were microwaving different things in the microwave and you could watch them to see what would happen.) My hubby says I’m a total teenager for loving it, but he DID ask me for the URL. (Just so you know that I am not alone.)