Do you have a crazy boating story?

Lifes Good

After sharing the story of hitting the heart stopping log last week going 30 knots.  It got me thinking, what other ROC members may have experienced during their boating trips over the years?  I am sure theirs got to be some real good ones!  Prop/shaft/drive oops, hull oops, trailer pulls truck down ramp oops, walked off dock oops, hit dock/rock/boat oops, bad storms oh crap, sand bar oops, taller than bridge oops, pet mess oops, officer it was not my fault - yeah right, the party got to big and the list goes on and on...

So are you ready to share a good story?  I have a few really good ones but I'll add them later if this string takes off.

LG

Babyboomer

Well last Saturday night after being out in the boat all day and a little to much Ice Tea :-) plugged up the George Foreman to cook some brauts. Raised the lid had it to close to the table edge on the dock, The whole grill started to tip over headed straight for the side of the boat all I could see was a hunk of jell coat going off the boat. So being I had plenty of Tea in me I grab the grill 350 degrees of it with the palm of my hand. (ouch) then I jumped from the pain and ran a splinter from the dock in my big toe, Needed more Tea. Well the boat didn't get hurt I have blisters on 3 fingers took until Sunday morning to get the splinter out..........And this was our 1st time out this season, There will be more to come.
:P

Lifes Good

Great Start!

Capt_Steve

So THAT's where that splinter came from!

mvn

First time out on our first Rinker a number of years ago, I saw a float plane try to take off WITH the wind. He used up the whole lake then pulled up at the last second. Needless to say, he didn't have enough air speed and his right wing stalled. He ended up nose-diving into the lake. We rushed over after we couldn't believe what we had just witnessed. When we got there, his prop was smashed, pontoons punctured, he was all smashed up and the plane was starting to sink. We supported his right wing, another boat his left, a third towing and a Seadoo at the tail. We got him to shore where police and EMT's were waiting.

I'll post pictures.

Mark

Dream_Inn

Great topic!  I've got a good one that will take me longer than I have right now to post...can't wait to see some good stories!

Babyboomer

I was back a creek one weekend and a houseboat came back there and tied up must have been 20 people on it they were all naked. I thought to my self there's a little shade here think I'll wax the boat.

Black_Diamond

I sucked up a plastic bag on a drive and over temped last summer. I was smack in the middle of Lake Michigan at the time. Luck it freed off once I stopped. The idea of 50 miles to go with no power steering in 3' waves was not appealing!

Dream_Inn

OK, let me type up my crazy anchor story with our 310.  It was one of the first weekends we had our 310 & definitely the first time we anchored her in a tight area with a bunch of other boats.  Now, to give you a mental picture of this place:  A long strip of sand points into a narrow passage with the bay on one side and large river on the back side.  To come in, boats have to be paralllel to the long strip and then make a 90 degree turn into this narrow opening.  Narrow enough that two boats wouldn't pass thru at the same time. (not really a big deal after a few times going thru)  But also during change of tide, a lot of water rushes thru & the anchorage is on the back side of this sand strip.  Of course you need bow and stern anchor cause of the water flow and the boats are so tight it can be tough to even get your dinghy out.

Now, do I need to describe the crowd?  Let's say, I've seen rankings on the shore for captains & their crew (better when tops are off).  I've also heard the best phrase "Mom!  Please put your T!TS away!  anyway, a little rowdy but I've actually found a bit rude (not typical in the boating world).  For those that know the bay, know I'm talking about Fairlee Creek.

So to the story, we arrived early on Friday to get a great spot.  We back in and I got a good bow and then got out quickly and a nice stern line out.  (I like to have a nice long rhode)  I notice it was low tide and the boat next to me was swinging quite a bit, but noone was there.  They had probably gone to the local marina to party up.  so I pulled my lines taunt thinking i will loosen them when high tide (which would be sometime after midnight).  The boat owners next to me never really came back & I forgot to loosen my lines.  It was close to 2am & we finally went to bed, but decided to pull back the camper top and lay there and look at the stars.  We really had nothing to drink for some reason, within 5 minutes of laying down and listening to all the people still on the beach, I saw tree branch hangin over me.

Crap!  My bow line slipped & we were at the beach.  I had my wife grab the stern line and walk it to the bow so I could use my bow to pull out and and start. Well, after starting, my port engine wrapped the stern anchor!!  I immediately shut both off (my bow was up)......no what?!?  I had just enough space to get in the water and turn the boat and push it bow first onto the beach!  At this point, think of the crowd (all around a camp fire). They were taking pictures and laughing, no help.  I sat on the platform for a few minutes, then got the line untangled (no problems there) & the admiral asked "where are we going to anchor?"...well, right where I was!  I dropped back in nice and tight and went to sleep.  I don't think a neighbor even knew! 

TikiHut2

The regional excursion for the Central Fl Cruisers Club came to our area over the Memorial weekend and there was a rowdy discussion of true personal tales of mistakes at the ramp. The boats are mostly larger trailerable express cruisers and the group will typically converge for long weekends at different marinas around Fl. Aside from the normal "I forgot the drain plug and nearly sank the boat" also came the classic "even at full throttle I couldn't get my boat off the trailer because the stern strap was still hooked up". 

The winner was the boisterous BBQ shack owner and avid boater who launched his 30' Chaparral and was told by his wife that she was going to use the head while he parked the truck. Being a bit behind schedule he said no problem and quickly returned to the boat. Seeing the door to the head closed he proceeded to navigate toward the marina about 20mi away. Of course the wife didn't actually say she was using the head "on the boat" and when she returned from the shoreside facilities their boat and its captain were LONG gone. Many attempts to hail the captain by all of the now highly amused boat club members were fruitless due to the roar of his engines which were on full plane and making great time. 

Just when it seemed clear to the gathering crowd that there'd be no way to stop his overzealous headway the captain heard his cell phone ringing. The request was made to check for all his passengers to which he replied that she was in the head with the door closed so he wasn't going to bother her.......and then they put her on the phone.......  )

He returned with his tail between his legs to the ridicule of the whole club for the entire weekend. His wife was gracious, at least around us and it's everyone's guess that she'll have some new jewelry at the next meeting. Gotta love getting older....  ) )

Mike

TonyWalker

Well, here is my favorite Salt Shaker story.  It was within our first six weeks of ownership and we thought this particular weekend would be a good time to motor over to Galatti Marina for gas, late in the day so maybe we could leave her overnight at their gas dock and then walk over to Rotten Ralph's for dinner.

This would be our first tie up at a dock other than our own. I was still way behind the curve as far as close quarters manouvering was concerned.  And the idea that we could leave the boat over night was incorrect, we heard it third hand so we were not completely surprised at this.

Taking no chances, I had six lines out, three on each side.  The gas guy was most uncopporative and negative about everything.  He would not take any of our lines but insisted on using his.  Easy to get me completely bollixed and this was the straw that did it. 

The boat wound up with a stern line attached, and I succeeded in rotating the bow away from the gas dock and toward Rotten Ralph's, eventually winding up with her bow over one of the tables in the outdoor portion of the establishment.  I could hardly look over there but a guy from one of the other tables got up, walked over to "our table" and pushed the bow back toward the gas dock.  I gave him a half hearted wave of thanks which was all I could muster.  But the bow came back to the gas dock and the rest was history.

Tony

Salt Shaker 342

mvn

Here are some photos to go with my story above.

 

Mark

Capt_Steve

Wow!

Babyboomer

Double WOW

Lifes Good

Great stories guys! Looking forward to more!

Glassguy54

When we were first getting familiar with our previous boat, we were out with the grandkids. Spent most the day pulling them around in a 2 person towable. Had stopped in a cove late afternoon for snacks and swimming off the stern, etc. Sun was setting, we were preparing to depart and the grandkids wanted to be towed from the cove out into the channel before reboarding. Gave her throttle, the bow came up, then she died! My wife and I were at a loss as to what could have happened. She asked if we had gas? I said when we entered the cove the fuel guage read 1/4 tank. Well, that was in-accurate and we determined yes, we had indeed run out of gas. The grandkids overheard and the younger boy,Tate, was worried we wouldn't be able to get back. The older girl,Taylor, was reassuring him that all would be well. Tate, wide-eyed, looked at Taylor and proclaimed, "No Taylor, you don't understand - we're STRANDED!!!" Well, I threw out the anchor to prevent us from drifting aground and tried to call the local marina via cell phone. No service. Eventually a fellow boater offered to tow us back to the boat ramp. It was a few miles away. Got back to the ramp, cast off the tow line, offered to pay the fellow for the inconvenience, which he declined, and he motored away. It was at that point I realized the anchor had been out the whole way! And yes, I still hear about it!

mvn

Here's another one.  Got a panic phone call from a neighbour who was trying to sell his 192.  A prospective buyer showed up and the boat wouldn't start.  He said that it started and ran just fine the other day.  Frustrated, the buyer (who was supposedly an auto mechanic) left.  Another buyer was coming the next day.  My neighbour asked if I knew of any reputable marine mechanics in the area.  His wife was freaking out assuming a huge repair bill.  I told him to hang on and let me have a look first.

A bunch of things came to mind on the way over but when I got there, I jumped in and looked at the kill switch on the shifter.  Sure enough, it wasn't in the RUN position.  I showed him the switch and he said he never knew it was there!  Unbelievable!  Blamed his 4-year-old for fiddling with it.

Mark

Dream_Inn

Glass and MVN, great stories!  Glass, the end really made the story! )

brianluck

most people in the mid Chesapeake area are familiar with dobins island. well ive been to this island hundreds of times on other peoples boats. ive navigated the magathy on other peoples boats. last summer the wife and i purchased our first boat a 94 rinker fv300. we had used it a few times on short trips to hart miller as we keep it in middle river. well we got the idea to do a over night trip to the magathy river. by no means is this a long trip. its about 15 miles by boat. so we fill the tanks(first mistake) load the coolers and pack on two friends and our two dogs(second mistake) we head out. in the sheltered waters of middle river she jumps up on plane were crusiing. as soon as we hit open water we start fighting to keep on plan. to much weight and as it turns out our tabs dont work. so i drop the rpms down and we take a slow pace of about 10mph and enjoy the cruise. we arrive anchor and enjoy a nice day of fun and sun. along comes bed time! well this is the point where it all goes wrong. one of our dogs was a 7 month old puppy at the time and decided the best place for her to urinate was on our bed while we were sleeping. now this would not have been an issue if we were flying solo but we had two others with us to no more sleeping space. so now that the wife is furious the only thing i can think of is pull anchor and motor home in the moon light, navigation is being performed with the navtronics app on my cell phone. at about 80% through the voyage home my cell starts to die. i thought i was home free now that im back in familar waters i couldnt have been more wrong. ran a little to close to shore found a shallow spot and chewed up my props. i was able to limp home but i lost my pride. 

TikiHut2

Great memories eh...? Moonlight navigation without a chartplotter. yikes

You know what the Indian said when his dog peed on his bed.........Dog gone.

We take our little dog boating for days at a time but it sure adds to the hassle of de-watering that pooch although she's a really good boat dog. Not every dog is a made for boating. We leave our Corgi at the house because he just doesn't get it on the water since he's the head of ranch security and sort of a country hick, so he's happier there.....and I'm happier without the hassle.

Glassguy54

When I was younger, My folks kept a cruiser on the Mississippi where we would go almost every weekend. The family dog usually joined us on these outings. He was a Shepherd/Collie mix, rather long hair...you get the picture. Along the Mississippi, there are numerous islands where we would beach for the weekend. One afternoon, the skies began to darken, and the dog, being sensitive to such events, headed into the interior to ride it out. No amount of calling out the dog's name was enough to coax him from his redoubt, so we hunkered down on board and the storm came with a ferocity, dumping prodigious amounts of rain and lightning strikes and earth shaking thunder. The storm passsed and night wore on. The dog was not inclined to return to the comfort of the boat until, oh I'd say, about three a.m. when he came scratching on the hull and whimpering. Needles to say, the dog was thoroughly drenched, completed matted down with sand burrs and caked with foul smelling mud! Being the dog's primary caretaker, it fell upon me to endeavor to get the pathetic animal cleaned up to the extent that he would be allowed back on board. It was a long night made longer by the fact I was not of legal age to enjoy a little of Pa's medicinal corn based beverage!

TikiHut2

Ahh a boat camping tale,

As a kid in the 60's we were rarely invited to camp with my dad and his buddies when they would do a men only boating/fishing retreat on the shoal islands along remote SW Fl. Once when my mother insisted that I needed to be inducted (but probably because she wanted a spy) my 8y/o buddy and I went along to our great delight at having an exciting weekend doing manly stuff on boats and camping on a deserted tropical island.

With the boats anchored along shore and as the first night wore on we were exiled to a tent about 100' away while the loud beer drinking, fishing lie sharing laughter went on around the camp fire until very late. Just as it finally quieted down to total silence we suddenly heard a horrible shrieking and saw what looked like a giant Sasquatch thing tearing through the camp and crashing into all the mens tents. As our total terror died down after what seemed like an eternity there was then loud cussing and carrying on like men who've survived a samurai attack......and finally laughter like I'd never heard.

The small island we were on was apparently shared by more than a few sea rats that had kept their distance on this cool night until everyone went to sleep....that is all except for one that had climbed into the bottom of one of the mens sleeping bags and remained completely still until the contently relaxed and slightly inebriated man had zipped it up tightly to his neck to stay warm. When he suddenly realized he wasn't alone in his sleeping bag he jerked hard at it, but jammed the zipper in his haste to part ways with the new tenant. Now neither the freaked out rat(maybe just a mouse but things with claws scratching at you seem bigger in the dark) or the very animated guy could escape their newly shared straight jacket. Jerking straight up he tore right through his tent and floundered around screeching in terror while nearly destroying the entire camp until the zipper finally gave out.  )  )

My dad loved that story and I was always glad that I had been there to see it for myself. We've spent many years boating and fishing together on those islands and although my salty old Marine sgt of a dad is gone, I've always felt it was important to bring my kids to those same spots to build their memories too. Luckily those islands have changed very little although I still can't say I don't think twice every time I use a sleeping bag, whether it's on the boat or in a tent.  

Fair winds, Michael

Here's a pic from a beach very near that spot, still remote and deserted. If you look carefully you might see that same freaked out rat/mouse in the mangroves. It'd be interesting to hear his version of that fateful night when the little rodent wrestled with a giant intruder on his island

ruwallydog

Mike...that was an awesome story. You have a true talent for storytelling. Thanks for sharing. It made my day.

Best

Kurt

Glassguy54

Very Funny story! Maybe your Marine dad & my Marine dad are hoisting a glass somewhere beyond the horizon, sharing tall tales of adventures past! Their's (The Corps) is a brotherhood of the strongest stuff, isn't it? 

TikiHut2

That generation was made of many men that had true grit, loved the outdoors and believed in honor. I was lucky enough to have been born to one and known quite a few more. I constantly hope the sacrifices they made and lessons they taught me carry forward to my kids (now young adults). It certainly made me the man I am today.

As Paul Harvey would say:  And now the rest of the story.....

The guy in the story who did the sleeping bag rat dance was one tough cat but the shock of that darn rat climbing around in his shorts really rattled his cage but was still wildly entertaining otherwise. After that, with the camp virtually destroyed but the beer still cold, those guys got their 2nd wind and stayed up until dawn fishing from the beach under the stars, eating, laughing, drinking and tellin' even taller tales. It was one of the best of times and also one of the last times they all shared in such a rich way. 

It makes me think of the guy on this sight who goes by "now or never"(great name). So make the most of each day and build great memories every chance you get. It honors those who gave it all just so we can. Life is rich with possibilities because of them.

Hey, have a great season, Mike

Dream_Inn

well put Mike!  I just read a little autobiography my daughter (age 12) had written for school. I was shocked when I read how she looked up to me and thought she was so much like me with using her "imagination" & how I "come up with creative ways to fix things".  The part that hit the most was how much she enjoys our 10 day trips on the boat as a family and how her Dad creates something fun each time.  Well, we are leaving for 10 days this Thursday, so gonna have more fun!

raybo3

Hey Dream awesome story. That is just beautiful......

212rowboat

Marines are funny creatures with twisted sea tales.. I are one, though not active for many years now.. I still work aboard camp Lejeune, though..

Here is a tale told by marines, who generally don't shy away from the perverse.. stand by, but brace yourselves..

Camp devil dawg is a small encampment in the Verona loop area of the greater Lejeune aor.. it consists of maybe 50 medium sized general purpose tents, all covered and aligned in the middle of a swamp. It is unplumbed, and has water buffalos' and porta potties provided for the roughly 500 marines between bootcamp and mos school, and who are just feeling their oats under the fabled eagle globe and anchor..

Those porta potties bake all day, and aren't rotated very often.. you'll never hear a marine tell a tale about camp devil dawg that doesn't involve one of those things, and this one is no different.

If you're caught pulling a grizz and pooping in the woods, you're going to be up the proverbial creek of same material.. so, you practice 'consumption of air' discipline, and make business as quick as possible..

Unless you're my buddy, apparently..

My buddy decides since he has firewatch at zero 'are you freakin kidding me' o'clock, he will finish his watch by making a proper head call, and doing like we jug heads are trained to do by overcoming and adapting..

the bugs are ferocious: solution, poncho...
The stench unbearable: solution, gas mask...
The lack of feminine company lonely: solution, playboy
The lack of visible spectrum at night: solution, 'moon beam' L shaped flashlight with red lense..

So, every marine also has a tale of hard core sgts of the corps.. this one does too.. we had a 6'6 dark green marine Sgt who didn't talk.. he either growled or barked.. we knew what he meant and we responded quickly to his every demand.. he was a tough dude, by reputation and by our own measure based on the things we witnessed him doing.. he had no fear.. or, maybe, he sought fear out just so he could slap it around for amusement.. I'll go with that.. it seems more accurate.. apparently, this dude was on duty as the sncoic of the camp the night my buddy decides to make his head call expedition..

So there he is.. my buddy.. in the last porta potty in the snco row, under ranked and over equipped.. he's doing his business.. I don't want to speculate what business he is doing knowing how he was equipped.. but anyway, whatever his operation was, it was underway in the little hours, and in that porta potty..

The door swings violently open.. that Sgt in question didn't do anything that wasn't violent, except what he did next..

He screams like a little girl.. he takes in the scene for a second longer after expelling his first embark of air, draws another and screams again.. the whole camp is now awake.. we recognized the growling between the girlish screams, and fight off the hope that something is eating that mean rascal, replace it with suspicion he is eating some poor marine, and realize that still isn't exactly accurate.. the guys who all shared my tent are all looking at each other.. we aren't saying a word, but we're communicating with our wide eyed stares just as plainly.. we all realize: its the Sgt screaming.. something is frightening him.. we're all collectively worried about what type of creature that is, and if a meal of that sgt will be enough to satisfy it, or if we're next..

And then we met what it was that scared the Sgt.. he came running into the tent.. if I hadn't seen him leave I would have been considerably alarmed, just like the remainder of the dudes in that tent were..

To conclude this tale, put yourself in that tough ol rascal sgts skin for a second... What would you do if you were heading out for a nice relaxing movement in the dead of night, opened the hatch and saw THAT perched on the lid?? It's too much to process.. I'd have likely screamed too..

The next day, the Sgt showed up at revile, looking and acting the same as always.. but I swear, his eyes were always scanning the tree line adjacent those porta pottiesthe remainder of out time at camp devil dawg.. true story..

wm61356

Upon launching my boat for the season this year, I motored over to the marina gas and service dock to purchase some badly needed fuel for my boat. While my tanks were filling I noticed a young (younger than me at least) couple tie off to the fuel dock in their brand new 26 foot cruiser. I overheard the dock attendant comment on the shiny new cruiser and ask if it was the couple’s first boat. They replied that it was and at that point I returned my attention to adding fuel to my tanks. I few moments after that, I heard the pump-out machine start running and after a few more minutes, also heard the young captain loudly summoning the dock hand stating that the pump-out machine was not working. Curious as to what the problem might be because I could clearly hear the pump running, I looked over in that direction to see the young captain standing in the cockpit of his new boat while receiving instructions from the dock hand as to the purpose and function of the pump-out machine. It seems that the inexperienced young man had mistaken the pump-out hose to be a vacuum cleaner (like the ones you find at the car wash) and had been attempting to vacuum his cockpit carpet with it, hence his complaint that it wasn’t working. Live and learn! I tried so hard to contain my laughter that my eyes began to water. Others at the marina witnessed the event as well so I’m sure that the poor fellow will endure jokes about the incident for some time to come.

Lifes Good

these are fantastic stories! when I get more time at my computer I will share some doosies... I do most of the forum stuff via my cell....so typing its a little slow.

l-skynyrd

OK I got one......

One day wife and I and son and daughter in law were on the hook fishing. The girls were sunbathing on the bow and Chuck and I were fishing off the stern. The girls noticed a large freighter coming up the river heading for Stockton, CA. This is not unusual we see freighters all the time.. When the freighter got closer we were approached by a Coast Guard 20 foot RIB. The coasties  (3) were dressed in full battle gear with one in the bow with his hands on a 50 Cal gun pointing at us. We were told by them we could stay where we at but if we moved do not come within 500 yards of that freighter. When the freighter had passed us their was another Coast Guard RIB behind the freighter. We all kinda wondered what was that all about.

 A couple days later at work I mentioned this to co-worker who lived near Stockton, he had a  Stockton newspaper which reported shipping in Stockton. Since I knew the name of the freighter we checked what it was caring and found out it was caring fertilizer. That ship was escorted by the coasties all the way from the ocean to Stockton, about 120 miles.

You never know what you will encounter out on the water........

 

Len