Sometimes I wonder if we're naturally drawn to people like us or if our ridiculous tendencies just rub off on the people around us. This question arose again last summer when we traveled to Tennessee with two other couples.
Our friend’s dad generously allowed us the use of their cabin, as well as his pontoon boat, for a long weekend of fun on Dale Hollow. He had but one request. "Don't let anything happen to my brand new anchor."
Seems simple enough, unless you've met us before, in which case you know your anchor is pretty much screwed now.
The first day out on the lake, we found a private little cove and we dropped anchor. We spent the next several hours swimming and floating on rafts. At one point someone looked back and asked, "Is the boat getting closer to the shore?" My husband answered, "No, we just swam around a corner," which might have made sense if the cove had a corner, but nevertheless, we swam on.
But the concern proved valid when we swam back toward a boat that had clearly run ashore and whose front was currently resting on dry ground. The men got to the boat first and delivered the news. The anchor was gone. Ok, that's bad. But the rope was gone too, so if the rope floats, that's good. Turns out, the rope didn’t float. That's bad.
We aimlessly swam around the vicinity where we thought the anchor was thrown, occasionally diving down in futile attempts to reach the 16 ft bottom. No anchor.
Then we sat on the boat discussing the stupidity of a rope that doesn't float, which briefly led to the idea of running a series of tests to see what other parts of the boat don't float, then we tossed around suggestions that were not only few, but highly improbable of being effective, one of which was to "call the dam,” leading into a conversation about whether or not there was an actual "dam office," which naturally escalated into a series of inappropriate knock knock jokes, serving only to delay the matter at hand and solved nothing while we sat on the beached boat. We weren’t even drinking, believe it or not.
But far-fetched as it seemed, a plan was eventually hatched, and with the help of a fishing pole, a spare anchor, and some clever boat maneuvering, we were gonna hook that sunken rope on the bottom of the lake, and find the anchor.
The following morning we headed back to the cove. Operation Get That Anchor Back, was underway.
Unfortunately for us, a family had already anchored their boat into our cove for a day of swimming with their small children. Unfortunately for them, we were undeterred by common courtesy, and proceeded forward with our mission.
So just for fun, let's switch perspectives as I describe what they saw from their boat.
They saw a boat full of people rudely squeeze nearby into their cove, completely disregarding proper boat etiquette. They saw three women get comfortable sunbathing on the back, while three men got busy on the front. One man repeatedly threw an anchor into the water and then pulled it back in. Another man repeatedly cast out a fishing line with a giant hook on the end and reeled it back in. The 3rd man was behind the wheel of the boat and slowly drove back and forth and round and round, while 80's music blasted from their boat radio.
It needs to be said, if I were the family on that boat watching, I'd have been pissed. To their credit, they stuck around, either to stand their ground or to see what this freak show might do next. And were they in for a treat, because about an hour into this brouhaha, they witnessed the man with the fishing pole scream "I'VE GOT SOMETHING!" and then the man with the anchor jumped immediately overboard, followed by his screams of "DON'T HOOK ME!" and then every person in our boat erupted into cheers and celebration when they pulled an anchor attached to a long rope out of the water as 'Eye Of The Tiger' blared from the radio. You can't make this stuff up, people.
they saw the guy who reeled it in, turn around and throw the anchor and rope right back overboard again, as the women screamed, "Noooooooo
He responded, "We tied it off this time. We're not idiots."
By the looks on their faces, the family on the other boat strongly disagreed with that statement.