On Monday, my dad and I thought we’d go for a little ride in his speedboat on the lake. He asked if I wanted to drive, and I said yes. It was a beautiful sunny day, with no other boats on the lake, and I thought this would be a good chance to pootle around on the other side of the lake, the one without any camps on it, to look at the trees and the rocks and the mountains. I figured it would be about a fifteen-minute ride.
(Cue Gilligan’s Island music: A fifteen-minute ride. A FIFTEEN-MINUTE RIDE.)
So off we went, to the other side of the lake. The FAR side, the side beyond the island which sits about 1/3 of the way across the lake, where nobody lives at all, except for deer and moose and raccoons and sixty million black flies. We were happily motoring along, when I decided to hit the throttle a little bit and go faster.
Roar of engine. Boat didn’t move.
“I think there’s some weed stuck in the propellor,” said my dad. We raised the engine to have a look.
No propellor. It had fallen off. And sunk to the bottom of the lake.
We had one oar, no cell phone. We were on the other side of the island, invisible to my mother on the beach. My dad started paddling. It was about 2 pm. My cousins were arriving about 3. We figured we’d get back maybe around 5. Or possibly end up living on the island in makeshift huts along with a movie star and a professor.
Fortunately, we saw a lone boat motoring past the island, and I stood up on the bow and started waving the day-glo orange life vest, which attracted his attention. Turned out it was our neighbour, who’d just happened to decide to take a boat ride that afternoon. He towed us back to shore, just in time for our cousins to witness our ignominious return.
Next time, I’m bringing a phone. And another oar. And a trunkful of sequinned gowns.
Aw, I was all set for some kind of ‘Lost’ scenario or Ray Mears type lean-to in the woods!
Glad you got home safely!
EEK!
Just imagine how it bad it could have been–stranded on island with no internet and just raw fish to chew on! Did you even have a pen and paper to scribble poignant last words on?
Ug, the great outdoors can be pretty scary I reckon.
Are there bears out there?
Shuddering and very glad you’re safe!
Rach.
XX
Just imagine if it hadn’t been your Dad, but some gorgeous, alpha-male…
Sheesh, what a let down. I was expecting you to dive in, take the painter (it’s a rope!) between your teeth and swim for the shore.
Wow Jan has some serious ambitions for you, great visual
. Definitely take the gowns next time 
Not to worry. Once you got close to the island, you could have caught a ride on one of the black flies!
I’m sorry to say that, with a very clear picture in my head of you and your Dad’s predicament, I nevertheless laughed immoderately when I read that.
I’m almost sure I would have laughed immoderately if I’d been there, too.
And probably gone overboard to push.
I think you were supposed to make a cell phone out of the oar. Duh.