Cheap Thrills

About nineteen years ago Don and I realized that we needed to make a serious decision. The school system was offering a very generous retirement package for those teachers who were willing to take an early retirement. We were feeling the stress of our jobs, we were looking forward to the arrival of our first grand child, and we had both already taught nearly thirty years. Besides, we did not know how long the retirement packages would be offered. So we retired. Don first, and then I retired three years later.

About four years before we had been spending time with good friends at Lake Freeman, and thought we would really enjoy the lake life. While there, we found a small
mobile home on a rented lot in a lake side mobile home park. It was quite inexpensive, and we thought we might be able to afford it. We have never been lavish spenders. Indeed, "cheap" has always been the operative word when we were talking about entertainment. So, we bought our little lake side hide away, and began some years of great leisure time fun.

The first summer we purchased a two person paddle boat, and had fun paddling around our little cove.
But while we were away during the winter we began to think that a pontoon would be fun, so that we could explore the entire seven-mile-long lake. So Don read ads, and began the search for a used pontoon.

At a local marina, he found an old steel pontoon that had been refurbished. It was heavy, painted royal blue, had no seats except for the captain, had no awning, and had an ancient maroon- colored motor. But the marina mechanic assured us that it ran like a top and would serve us well. We loved it.

You realize and we realized that we were novice sailors. Don wanted to get that huge pontoon to Lake Freeman, and into the water before there were any spectators about to watch our efforts. So early in March, before the park officially opened, we hauled the pontoon up to the lake. It was weather suitable for enjoying the fireplace, not taking a pontoon ride. But, off we went.

We opened our mobile home, even though the park water supply had not been turned on.
We went to see the park manager to arrange for docking space. He helped us with that problem, and even allowed us to tap into his water by connecting a hose between our two places. Campground people are always friendly and helpful. The next day we hauled the pontoon down to the launching ramp. Our park's docking spaces were located at the end of a narrow channel that led out into the lake. Across the channel were some permanent summer homes. But, no one seemed to be about, so we were in business.

We had on winter coats, gloves, and hats. We brought a folding aluminum chair for me, and a bottle of wine to celebrate the launch. We backed the trailer down the ramp and slipped the pontoon into the water. All went well. I set up the lawn chair and poured the wine. Don took his place in the captain's chair, turned the key, and our lovely little maroon motor sputtered right to life! Ah, all was well.
Except that, right at that moment, five or six fishermen emerged from a cabin right across the channel, and proceeded to sit down on the bank to watch us. It seemed their only purpose was to watch two fools try to launch an old pontoon on a cold day in March. And so they did.

Well, Don put the motor into forward gear. The boat moved forward and veered a bit to the left. He steered some more, the boat moved forward some more, and veered some more to the left. So it went: forward, steer, left, forward, steer, left.
And right then we hit a pier on the left, my chair tipped, I landed on the floor,
BUT I did not spill one drop of wine! We did not look across the channel!

Don said, under his breath, "Act like this is where we intended to go."

So we tied up the pontoon, got into our van (quickly), and drove up the hill and back to our place. Don called the marina back at home, and found out that the mechanic had not attached the steering cables. So after correcting that slight oversight, we did have our maiden voyage the next day, and claimed and marked our
new docking space.

I want you to know - that was one ugly pontoon that motored many miles around our lake that summer. It was fondly called "Old Blue" by one and all. We detailed it out with mismatched lawn chairs, a cooler, a boom box, a bucket for peeing after dark, and a matching blue tarp for an awning. Oh, it was a pleasure boat that had it all.

We took morning cruises to greet the ducks, geese, and the blue herons. We ate many on-board picnic lunches in out-of-the-way coves. We had terrific off-board swimming with family and friends. We watched a hundred sunsets while anchored in "Bat Bay."
We named the bay for the bats that swooped over head when it got dark. We listened to our Linda Ronstadt tape a thousand times. There is a big excursion boat on Lake Freeman that takes passengers the whole length of the lake at night. They serve food, have bands for dancing, and a top deck for sight-seeing. We loved to follow the "Madame" down the lake at night and listen to her music. And that old maroon motor kept right up, and never missed a lick all summer.

The best sailor in the family was our dog, Scotty. He couldn't wait to set sail. He loved to ride up front, and outside the front gate, with his nose up smelling the breeze. When we anchored, he loved to jump in for a swim. Of course, he loved to find dead fish on shore and roll on them. He often went home smelling like dead fish. But the best part of all was following our tiny trolling lights home in the dark, under a star-filled sky, and walking uphill and home. We often ended the night with a campfire and a chance to listen to all the summer night sounds.

Our last trip of the summer on a beautiful Sunday at the end of September. It was a glorious, colorful, autumn day, full of sunshine and seventy degrees. Our kids and Scotty were with us. We cruised the entire lake, ate our picnic lunches, then went under the bridge and followed the river through town and as far as we could go until we came to the dam. What an end to a glorious summer.

We kept our lake place for maybe fifteen years. During that time we were to trade up twice for better pontoons. The last one was brand new, shiny, and so beautiful!
We enjoyed them all, but we never had as much fun as we had that first summer on "Old Blue."