As punishment for helping him repair his roof a neighbor gave my Dad and me an old 25hp engine. We built a steering console for our 14 ft boat, mounted the tuned up engine, and went fishing. It was a beautiful morning, the engine ran great, and fishing was good. What more could we want?
For one thing we could want an engine that started when it was time to come home. Unfortunately we had the other kind. While my Dad worked on the engine I went overboard and swam the boat to shore, walked it down the beach to a pullout point, and called Mom. Mom brought the trailer and we towed the boat home.
We established a routine. On Friday evenings we worked on the engine and got it running perfectly. Saturday mornings we went fishing after which I went overboard and swam the boat to shore. Saturday afternoons we worked on the engine. Sunday mornings we went fishing after which I went overboard and swam the boat to shore. We did this every weekend. I even fashioned a shoulder harness to make my job easier.
After six or eight weeks of this kind of fun we decided one morning to fool that engine. Instead of going fishing we would launch the boat and, staying near the launch area, run it until it would stop and start on command.
At one point we pulled up to a pier and my Dad got off suggesting that I see how it ran with just one person in the boat. Running wide open I made a big circle followed by another. On the second time around I felt the stern starting to slide. I pulled up to the pier and changed places with my Dad.
I cautioned him about the stern slide problem and my Dad said, ?SON, DON?T TELL ME HOW TO RUN BOATS. I?VE BEEN RUNNING BOATS ALL OF MY LIFE.? Remember that line!
My Dad made a circle. On his second circle the stern slid wildly and my Dad, without even touching the sides, sailed out of the boat. It looked as if the stern, and the engine, would run right over him. I dove off of the pier and started swimming in his direction. I saw him come to the surface and he yelled that he was OK. I stopped swimming and turned just in time to see the boat run through the waves it had created. One wave caught the bow just right and shoved it off course. The engine turned and locked into a left turn position. The stern began rotating around the bow with the boat cocked up on its side. Round and round it went.
We stood there in chest deep water watching the boat rotate and discussed the situation. At first we assumed that very shortly it would quit running but then recalled that our problem had never been that it had quit running but that it wouldn?t start after we shut it down. We considered the possibilities. If it straightened out and went to Mexico then Mexico could have it. If it did anything else it was possible and perhaps likely that it would run into something that would cost us a lot of money. We needed a plan. We manufactured a few but none was of value.
During the next hour the boat, as it rotated, moved slowly down the bay and closer to the beach ? and piers. Our concern about damage expenses was growing.
At one point the boat began edging closer and closer to an empty stretch of beach. This was good we thought. Once the propeller got into the sand it would shear a pin and come to a stop. It didn?t do that though. We kept walking backwards toward the beach until finally we were standing on dry land. The boat followed along until it was rotating within five feet of the water?s edge. The propeller would bury itself in the sand and the boat would slow down and then, suddenly, the stern would come flying out of the water and the boat would rotate a couple of more times and repeat the process.
I decided that the next time it buried itself in the sand I would run down the beach, dive over the engine into the boat, and shut it down. It didn?t work out quite as smoothly as I had planned. As I left the ground the stern came flying out of the water and the engine hit my legs throwing me off course. I was intent on getting my hand on the throttle and pulling it back and did so. A microsecond later my head smashed into the seat and the blow shifted my brain around in my head.
After a moment I was fine and pleased to note that I now had two Dads. My two Dads and I breathed a sigh of relief. I grabbed the shoulder harness, put it around my shoulders, and we began walking the boat back to the launching point. We had only walked a short distance before it hit us both that the boat had not stopped of its own accord. We had shut it down. We gave each other a foolish look, shoved the boat into deeper water, climbed in and, to our surprise, the engine cranked right up. We laughed and headed home. Within a hundred yards we ran out of gas after which I went overboard and swam the boat to shore.
I have always enjoyed telling this story, especially in my Dad?s presence, because I get to use my favorite line, ?SON, DON?T TELL ME HOW TO RUN BOATS. I?VE BEEN RUNNING BOATS ALL OF MY LIFE.?
For one thing we could want an engine that started when it was time to come home. Unfortunately we had the other kind. While my Dad worked on the engine I went overboard and swam the boat to shore, walked it down the beach to a pullout point, and called Mom. Mom brought the trailer and we towed the boat home.
We established a routine. On Friday evenings we worked on the engine and got it running perfectly. Saturday mornings we went fishing after which I went overboard and swam the boat to shore. Saturday afternoons we worked on the engine. Sunday mornings we went fishing after which I went overboard and swam the boat to shore. We did this every weekend. I even fashioned a shoulder harness to make my job easier.
After six or eight weeks of this kind of fun we decided one morning to fool that engine. Instead of going fishing we would launch the boat and, staying near the launch area, run it until it would stop and start on command.
At one point we pulled up to a pier and my Dad got off suggesting that I see how it ran with just one person in the boat. Running wide open I made a big circle followed by another. On the second time around I felt the stern starting to slide. I pulled up to the pier and changed places with my Dad.
I cautioned him about the stern slide problem and my Dad said, ?SON, DON?T TELL ME HOW TO RUN BOATS. I?VE BEEN RUNNING BOATS ALL OF MY LIFE.? Remember that line!
My Dad made a circle. On his second circle the stern slid wildly and my Dad, without even touching the sides, sailed out of the boat. It looked as if the stern, and the engine, would run right over him. I dove off of the pier and started swimming in his direction. I saw him come to the surface and he yelled that he was OK. I stopped swimming and turned just in time to see the boat run through the waves it had created. One wave caught the bow just right and shoved it off course. The engine turned and locked into a left turn position. The stern began rotating around the bow with the boat cocked up on its side. Round and round it went.
We stood there in chest deep water watching the boat rotate and discussed the situation. At first we assumed that very shortly it would quit running but then recalled that our problem had never been that it had quit running but that it wouldn?t start after we shut it down. We considered the possibilities. If it straightened out and went to Mexico then Mexico could have it. If it did anything else it was possible and perhaps likely that it would run into something that would cost us a lot of money. We needed a plan. We manufactured a few but none was of value.
During the next hour the boat, as it rotated, moved slowly down the bay and closer to the beach ? and piers. Our concern about damage expenses was growing.
At one point the boat began edging closer and closer to an empty stretch of beach. This was good we thought. Once the propeller got into the sand it would shear a pin and come to a stop. It didn?t do that though. We kept walking backwards toward the beach until finally we were standing on dry land. The boat followed along until it was rotating within five feet of the water?s edge. The propeller would bury itself in the sand and the boat would slow down and then, suddenly, the stern would come flying out of the water and the boat would rotate a couple of more times and repeat the process.
I decided that the next time it buried itself in the sand I would run down the beach, dive over the engine into the boat, and shut it down. It didn?t work out quite as smoothly as I had planned. As I left the ground the stern came flying out of the water and the engine hit my legs throwing me off course. I was intent on getting my hand on the throttle and pulling it back and did so. A microsecond later my head smashed into the seat and the blow shifted my brain around in my head.
After a moment I was fine and pleased to note that I now had two Dads. My two Dads and I breathed a sigh of relief. I grabbed the shoulder harness, put it around my shoulders, and we began walking the boat back to the launching point. We had only walked a short distance before it hit us both that the boat had not stopped of its own accord. We had shut it down. We gave each other a foolish look, shoved the boat into deeper water, climbed in and, to our surprise, the engine cranked right up. We laughed and headed home. Within a hundred yards we ran out of gas after which I went overboard and swam the boat to shore.
I have always enjoyed telling this story, especially in my Dad?s presence, because I get to use my favorite line, ?SON, DON?T TELL ME HOW TO RUN BOATS. I?VE BEEN RUNNING BOATS ALL OF MY LIFE.?
