Up shit creek

Another adventure during Dale & Kat's visit was a boat outing we took on the Sunday.  It was something Micko and I had wanted to do since we moved here, but hadn't gotten around to yet.

Judging by our previous experiences with the canoe, while living in Bruns, I really should have thought harder about taking out a boat.  When I say that I really should give you a brief run down...

Some good friends of ours gave us a canoe to use while we lived in our rad pad on the Brunswick River.  They had just had a baby and had no use for it.  Most weekends, I'd take the canoe out for a couple of hours... I loved it so much!  I'm not a big 'relaxer', I like to be on the go, at least doing something.  Canoeing became an outlet for me.  There is some kind of comfort I get from being on the water... floating along, taking in the passing landscapes.  One such day, I decided to take Micko out in the canoe with me.  Not the most pleasant experience... Lets just say Micko is a strong character and has his way of doing things... As do I!  Sometimes our ways differ and we butt heads.  This was one of those times!

So, I had some prior warning to what was to follow in the boating outing. But, hey... you gotta try these things.

Micko heads into the boat hire place and sorts out payment and the details of where you can and can't go with the lady.  We all pile into the boat and the old bastard says, 'Right, so who'll be driving?', Micko and my bro, in unison, say 'Karly'.  The old guy looks me up and down, mumbles to himself, then says 'Don't you think perhaps it would be best to have a bloke in the back?  I reakon it's a bit tough to start if you're a sheila'.  What the?  Is this guy fucking serious?  Did he magically transport himself from the early 20th century to stand before me?  I find myself just looking at him with bewilderment spread all over my face.  I really wanted to say, 'I'm pretty sure I can pull a fucken cord!  You might be surprised but, I've started a lawn mower before and even mown the lawns!'    But, I didn't... I just stared at the guy with contempt while my brother fought my battle.... 'She's a gym junkie and has driven heaps of boats'.  Thank you Dale!

Of course, now I'm mad and unfocused... I've also not driven a tinny in quite sometime, so I was a little all over the shop to start.  Took me a couple of minutes to get used to moving the motor the opposite way to where I wanted to go.  Didn't help that I was frazzled... Plus had Micko in the front yelling which way I should go.

At gym, I did my rotator cuff sometime ago.  Besides boxing, I've been quite kind to it since and I really haven't done my weights work in the past 8 months or so - my guns look more like plumbers piping at the moment.  Driving the boat was niggling away at the prior injury... the vibration on the motor on my arm, which was basically placed behind me, was doing me no good at all.  Micko yelling at me like I was partly deaf and a six pack short of slab, was also doing me not good... at all!  A combination of my short fuse, inability to be told what to do, the sexist prick and rotator cuff niggling pain bought it all to an abrupt head.  I snapped, "Fuck this!  Someone else drive the fucking boat', and handed the reigns over to my bro.

We stopped at a beach along the riverbank and drove the boat in.  It was a beautiful spot and seeing dolphins swimmingly past eased my frayed nerves.  Billy was loving it!  Swimming out to grab a stick, almost as big as he, and dragging it back in for us to throw back out.  Watching the houseboats bob along the river... The other boats passing by... Soaking in the sun, then taking cover in the shade... Wading in the water... And all round having a relaxing time.  Then it came time to brave the boat again.

This time Dale was skipper... Only problem was that he'd keep starting the boat in gear.  This was making me nervous.  I was yelling at Dale that he needed to have the engine in neutral before starting it... At the same time Micko was trying to tell Dale which direction to go... Then Dale snapped.  The rest of the trip back was pretty quiet. Everybody looking out of the boat, not willing to look at each other.  We were all on edge and really just wanted to back on dry land, have a beer and forget about our boating ordeal.

As we pulled up back at the boat house, Dale tried to stop the engine (by hitting the red button) it wouldn't work - but I didn't realise this yet.  So we all start screaming and yelling (actually it was mainly me)... Then I tell Dale to move out of the way.  I jump in and put the engine into neutral, to try to turn the boat around.  Then I hit the red button, it does nothing... I push on it again... nothing.  Then I start looking at the button, more than where we are headed.  I'm pushing the button again and again, but the engine won't stop.  Everyone in the boat is yelling at me now, 'Look where you're going', and I'm yelling back 'I can't stop the fucking boat'.  The sexist old prick comes out just as 'cruuuunch', I drive into the rocks.  Just then, with another hard punch at the fucking red button, the boat stops.  The old prick says 'use the oars... if it wasn't for you boys, you'd be out in the ocean right now'... Ooooooooh!  You've gotta be fucking joking me!  I grab my shit and stumble out of the boat with a big scowl on my face.

Micko goes to deal with the woman inside and I march over with Billy to the car.  I was ropable!  We all jump in the car, sat in relative silence... all just wanting to get home as quick as possible.

Then someone splurts out, 'Well that was fun!'.  With that, we piss ourselves laughing and head straight home for some emergency beers and plenty of banter about the boat, the bastard... and the bitch (being me).