Part 7

Fortunately, the day started out relatively calm and, with the lack of much wave action on the water, the absence of reserve buoyancy was not brought to our attention as an issue of concern. Despite our youthful vigor, it was slow going. We were getting a practical lesson on why boats tend to have a pointy front end! As a result of the arduous trek to the reservoir combined with the boat’s enthusiastic reluctance to move forward through the water, we tired of paddling and took a break about midway across.

Amazingly enough, the canvas appeared to be doing its job as the boat’s floorboards were still, for the most part, dry. We did notice that the action of the water against the hull had begun to loosen the folds and the canvas was now starting to bulge inward through the spaces between the boards. We amused ourselves for a considerable time by playing “squishy toes” with the numerous canvas protuberances that were forming. This distraction caused us to lose our attention to the environment around us until we noticed that waves were beginning to wash over the sides. The wind had begun to pick up and the calm, serene lake had taken on a new, menacing look.

It wasn’t difficult even for 14 year old boys to conclude that we might be in trouble if a storm was brewing in which case standing on shore had a much greater appeal to our vulnerabilities. A quick survey revealed that we were as far away as we could get from each and every shore-side haven of safety so instinct told us that the prudent thing to do was to return to where we had departed… and to get there as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, our departure spot was precisely the direction from where the wind was originating, putting it right on our nose. After 5 minutes of hard paddling we could tell that we were not making much progress and compounding our problem was the fact that paddling into the wind caused the waves to splash against the square bow, which offered just the boost they needed to facilitate invading the boat.

I looked Joe in the eye as he looked in mine and I could discern genuine fear as I’m sure he saw in mine. In those few seconds, self-chastisement passed through my mind as I realized that again I had failed to secure my mother’s approval and again I was in trouble. Even worse, she didn’t know where I was and if I never came home they wouldn’t know where to start looking. Determination to survive displaced my natural yearning to panic and knowing that somebody needed to take charge and since I was the experienced sailor I ordered, “Let’s go the other direction!” Rather than turn the whole boat we simply swung ourselves around on the thwart and started paddling downwind. I guess that was the genius of that design… interchangeable bows.

We paddled for a few minutes and could detect good progress albeit in the wrong direction and then it occurred to me out-loud, “Why are we working so hard when the wind is blowing? Take off your shirt, Joe!”

In a flash, I had mine off and demonstrated what I had in mind. We threaded the body of our T-shirts over the paddles with one handle running out through each sleeve, one shirt above the other. We each held our spar vertically presenting the shirts unfurled against the wind like a square rigger and we soon found ourselves clipping along at a good pace.

At some point still a ways from shore a particularly big gust of wind threatened to topple our masts so to counteract the increased forward pressure and to take advantage of the extra speed it might contribute, we instinctively put our feet up against the forward bow to gain leverage. This, we quickly discovered, was the wrong thing to do as it created a suicide fulcrum that forced the bow to nose down which scooped even more liquid ballast into our keel. I’m sure by now that at least one of the two of us was wishing he had thought to bring a bucket. I guess that sometimes it’s possible to incite a jinx by not installing a bilge pump.

Having precious little room for any additional weight onboard and the presence of a quickly rising internal water level threw a scare into Joe that caused him to jump to his knees and begin frantically scooping water over the side with his hands. The problem was that the location of the thwart forced Joe to kneel ahead of the fulcrum and the added weight forward again dipped the bow and all the internal water came rushing to the lowest point. The combined consequences of those two actions and their obedience to the principles of gravity began an irreversible and unrecoverable chain reaction.

We were going down!

(Continued... be patient Charisa, the next one is the harrowing conclusion!)