Skiing: Always an Adventure
Last weekend I went water skiing with my Dad. It had been 2 years since we had been skiing together, mainly due to him getting married and buying a house. This was our second time on the water this year. The first time the boat had issues with some spark plugs not firing, so we never were able to ski. Now Dad had all that fixed and I was ready for a full weekend of wet water fun.
We were about 5 minutes on the water, checking out the lake looking for calm water when Dad saw a small inlet. He was convinced that another lake joined up and this was where it came in. We decided to check it out. Dad started accelerating into the inlet and after I mentioned the bouyies up ahead and how we should probably slow down he gunned it.
The sounds I heard over the next 1.5 seconds were some of the most gut wrenching screams of pain I've ever heard come from a marine vessel. The nashing of propeller on rock and fiberglas scraping on lake bottom ripped through the air, and took my hopes of a weekend of skiing with it. We were in less than a foot of water and what was connected to the engine could hardly be called a prop any more.
Dad felt pretty stupid and was very sorry about the whole situation. We ended up spending the next 2 hours tracking down a boat shop that was still open and were luck enough to find a replace the prop. The last prop of its kind in southern MN. The weekend was saved!
It was certainly a close call, but we were able to still enjoy the weekend. Below is a picture of me tearing it up.
We were about 5 minutes on the water, checking out the lake looking for calm water when Dad saw a small inlet. He was convinced that another lake joined up and this was where it came in. We decided to check it out. Dad started accelerating into the inlet and after I mentioned the bouyies up ahead and how we should probably slow down he gunned it.
The sounds I heard over the next 1.5 seconds were some of the most gut wrenching screams of pain I've ever heard come from a marine vessel. The nashing of propeller on rock and fiberglas scraping on lake bottom ripped through the air, and took my hopes of a weekend of skiing with it. We were in less than a foot of water and what was connected to the engine could hardly be called a prop any more.
Dad felt pretty stupid and was very sorry about the whole situation. We ended up spending the next 2 hours tracking down a boat shop that was still open and were luck enough to find a replace the prop. The last prop of its kind in southern MN. The weekend was saved!
It was certainly a close call, but we were able to still enjoy the weekend. Below is a picture of me tearing it up.
posted by david at Sunday, August 07, 2005
4 Comments:
You make me laugh! I'm glad your weekend was saved. And thanks for the congrats. :)
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Ah ha! The anonymous commenters found you too! :)
They have been promptly deleted! Take that spam commenters!
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