Again With the Rain

It rained during today’s rescue mission. It is my own personal outboard curse.

Unrelated, yet sort of related: my brother left in his $500 car, two active young children, and estranged-but-working-on-getting-back-together wife for their eleven hour drive home. Halfway there, they broke down. (Late at night.)

So this time, he got to have the vehicular adventure.

I can share. In fact, sometimes, I like to share.

Anyway, the kids LOVED it, because they got to ride in the tow truck, sleep in a hotel, eat breakfast in bed, watch Sponge Bob and go to Chuck E Cheese which was conveniently located next door to the shop, ride in a rental car and undoubtedly learn a few new, choice, four-letter words.

So after a five hour wait, the shop ‘guessed’ what was wrong with the car as they didn’t have the correct diagnostic equipment. So, they charged my brother $80 for their ‘timely’ guess, which was incorrect. He decided to have it towed to another shop who had the problem diagnosed and fixed within an hour. By then, they were on the road in the rental car as both adults were supposed to be at work (which they so obviously weren’t).

Anyway, he made it home and later took the trek back to get the car and return the rental. All is well. For now.

And we made it safely around in our vehicles–although I just about got lost in the woods (not really) trying to shortcut my way to the cottage along a road that was supposed to be there according to a map from 1902. Yeah, no road. Not even sure if it ever even went in. I was okay, but the bear scat and remnants of hobo camps and the fact that it took me forever to make my way through the tall junipers that hid the uneven ground, had me a bit freaked at times. Basically, I crashed and did controlled falling through the woods. And just about came out in someone’s back yard. But I didn’t and I didn’t get eaten by bears or have to explain my crashing presence in a hobo camp.

Where was I? Oh yes, so vehicle adventures for me–okay. Boat adventures–cursed. Well, ‘cursed’ might be a bit strong. Let’s try…a bit bumpy? Yes, my adventures in boating were a bit bumpy… No, that’s not right either. Whatever…you get what I mean.

So, still tinkering with the outboard–the engine would sputter a bit whenever we put the cover back on. Basically, we just about had it running smoothly in time to winterize it. Okay, we did get it running well in time to winterize it. DOH! But back to the story. Hubby went puddling about in the canoe with our daughter. And the wind and current picked up and he found it hard to make his way across the river in the gusts that would push the canoe back as fast as he could paddle forward.

Once I realized that he was struggling, I went into super-duper-rescue mission mode. Read that as: took motor cover off and crossed the river. Got closeish–didn’t want to run him over with the crazy current and blowing wind. And whoosh threw him the buoyant heaving line. As it arched across the space between us, I realized, this is not going to work. So, I let go of my end. I had thought of tying it to the boat, but with an engine spinning with no cover and rocks and current and shore and traffic, my mind was busy and realized the wussy heaving line wasn’t going to make it through the wind. So, I drove closer and got to be rescue hero.

Then was the fun task of crossing the river as gusts blew the outboard off course, the sky opened up and dumped rain. And I mean, opened up. And then all the morons in their speed boats who are all trying to crowd between the channel markers all at once because of the rain. Oh yeah, and the canoe is not following me nicely. It is cutting across back and forth behind me. That had to have freaked out at least one or two other boaters. Go slow and canoe follows well, but wind blows me off course. Hmmm…such choices.

But we made it and made it look…easy? Not sure…but we did it. It was cool getting to be the rescuer. But again, what it is and the outboard, rescue missions and pouring rain? How often did it actually pour rain during the day when we were there? Pretty much whenever the outboard was involved in rescuing. At least this time the people weren’t out on their boathouse watching and analyzing like a few days earlier. I hope that they got to see the boat working. I’m sure they heard it. It is stinking loud!

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?