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Someone once told me that if you want to have an amusing experience, go sit and observe a busy boat launch. The conditions create a hotbed for humor, tragedy and an education on human nature. I’m just hoping no one else was taking advantage of that pastime the day we launched our first pontoon boat!
My wife and I purchased some property which abutted a medium sized lake in southwest Michigan. We had acquired a pontoon boat to take advantage of the beautiful Michigan summer. We picked up the boat and the staff helped hitch it to the car. We had gone over all the boat operating procedures, but not so much the trailer hitching. That was mistake one! We parked the boat at the house construction site and waited until we were advised the boat dock was installed. We had owned a boat before, when we had lived in south Louisiana, but apparently, I had deleted those memories. Everyone that has owned a boat knows it is a love and hate relationship! Hence the adage that the two happiest days of boat ownership are when you purchase it and when you sell it!
It was late May when we were told the dock was ready and the weather that day was classically pleasant so my lovely wife agreed to help me launch the boat. I pulled my truck up to the boat and lowered the receiver on the hitch ball. I carefully secured the safety chains, trailer brake and electrical connector. As I climbed into the driver’s seat, I smugly congratulated myself on being so thorough. Mistake number two!
While our property abuts the lake, it is a four mile drive around to the launch ramp. We completed the first three miles with little fanfare, and I was feeling positive about getting to the ramp. As I pulled onto a relatively busy two lane for a short distance, I accelerated up a small hill. Suddenly there was a loud THUNK, followed by a scraping noise. I could see the trailer in the rear-view mirror had dropped a bit lower. I swung the truck to the gravel berm and out of traffic. I exited to see what had happened, but I already knew the boat had come off the hitch ball. In my “thoroughness” I had neglected to lock down the hitch mechanism. A little of that smugness slipped away, but I did congratulate myself on doing a good job with the safety chains!
It was obvious we needed to get the boat back up on the hitch. Note that I said “we” because that is an important part of this story. I’ve always prided myself on being big and strong. I was confident I could hoist up the front of the trailer and get it on the hitch. I realized, however, I could not likely lift the boat and move it at the same time on the gravely berm. My solution was to ask my wonderful spouse to lower the jack stand when I lifted the boat, then I could simply back the truck back under it. I again congratulated myself on being creative, but in my ignorant hubris I neglected to explain to my fabulous spouse exactly how the jack-stand functions. Mistake number three.
I positioned myself under the front of the boat and made sure to straighten my back and lift with my legs. The front of the trailer ascended and I was feeling very masculine, but in only a few seconds I realized I could not sustain my accomplishment very long. I grunted to my wife to lower the jack-stand. She pushed on it, but didn’t realize the pin had to be pulled out. I grunted more urgently for her to move away and lowered the boat. I then somewhat impatiently explained that the pin had to be pulled out before lowering the stand. I again did my best strong man impression and watched with growing exasperation as my wife could not pull the pin out. After impatiently explaining again how it worked I tried to show her by pulling out the pin. I could not move it. In my haste to showcase my impressive strength I had failed to consider the gravel that might be packed under the trailer receiver. Mistake number four!
I cleared out the gravel and made sure I could move the pin. I again positioned myself under the boat. I failed to acknowledge, however, that a sixty-year-old body is not a twenty-five-year old body. While I could still squat the trailer, the endurance of the lift was decreasing rapidly. As my marvelous spouse struggled with the pin, I had to grunt at her to move away and I lowered the boat. My patience was now nearing a nadir. It was clear I could not both lift the boat and lower the stand. At this point my life partner meekly suggested I use the truck jack to lift the trailer. What, and avoid showcasing my masculinity! The reality, however, was that it was a good idea and I grudgingly acquiesced to the suggestion. I pulled out the truck jack and positioned it under the trailer tongue noting that the top of the jack was quite small. As I pumped up the jack, I was thinking this could actually work. While basking in that recognition, I failed to mention to my adorable wife that we needed to be careful to not pull the trailer off the small jack as we jostled the pin. Mistake number five!
As my super spouse tried to help, she pulled hard on the jack-stand pin and I watched in agony as the trailer tongue slipped off the jack and came crashing down! Fortunately, no damage was done. In the most patient voice I could muster, which was not very patient, I reminded her to be careful of where she positioned her body and how to pull the pin. We repositioned the jack and successfully raised the trailer and reconnected. As we drove to remaining mile to the ramp, I was starting to feel positive again about getting the boat in the water. Mistake number six!
The launch ramp at the lake is narrow and awkwardly angled, but being the typical male I was confident I could successfully position the boat and get it in the water. Well I was sort of right. I did remember to put a safety rope on the front of the boat and remove the straps that secure the boat to the trailer. I asked my awesome wife to stand on the dock and hold the safety rope while giving me guidance. Anyone that has gone through this process knows that the sexes speak different languages when it comes to navigating. My blood pressure was climbing, but we did somehow get the boat and trailer properly positioned. I allowed the truck to roll back and then hit the brakes to launch the boat into the water. It was satisfying to watch the boat slide back into the water, and I acknowledged the success. Mistake number seven!
I pulled the truck out and onto the side of the road near the ramp. I walked back to the ramp and observed in utter dismay a pontoon boat out in the middle of the small cove where the launch is located. Apparently, in securing one end to my terrific spouse I had neglected to adequately secure the other end to the boat. At this point I pretty much lost it. I was thinking about how I was going to have to swim out in that cool late-spring water to retrieve the boat. At that point much to my astonishment I observed the remarkable woman I married as she stripped down to her underwear and declared she would swim out to get the boat. Did I mention the boat ramp is surrounded by houses and we were new to the neighborhood? What a great first impression this would be! On the other hand it was mid-morning on a weekday and there was no one on the lake. She swam out grabbed the boat and swam it back to the dock. I secured the boat to the dock alongside the ramp and she dressed. Fortunately, the air was warm! She agreed to take the truck and trailer the three quarters of a mile down to our dock and I would meet her there with the boat. I had checked the boat before leaving the house to make sure the battery was fully charged and the outboard would start. I was finally thinking we would get this mission accomplished. Mistake number eight!
I watched the truck and trailer pull away then climbed into the boat. I carefully made sure the outboard was lowered and reached to turn the ignition key. Where was the key? In my haste to launch the boat I had failed to remember the key was on the truck console. Well, no problem, the person who knew me better than anyone would see it and return with the truck. Mistake number nine!
I waited growing more and more impatient, but no truck was coming down the road along the lake. I accepted that she simply did not see the key and was waiting at the dock wondering why I had not arrived. Surely, she would realize something was wrong and drive back. In reality she did see the key, but there was a major obstacle. She could not return without backing up the trailer. This was a deal breaker! My astonishing spouse can do almost anything. She has reared three children to successful adulthood, bungee jumped 400 feet, parasailed off Swiss mountains and pursued Cape Buffalo in dense riverine armed with only a camera, but backing up a trailer was terrifying! I finally decided to commence the ten minute walk down to the dock. As I walked my ire was climbing. What the heck was she doing? As I rounded a bend about halfway there, I spied her walking toward me. As she neared I noted she was laughing. I tersely inquired as to what the heck she thought was so funny? She told me she recognized that I did not have the key, but given the unwillingness to turn around the trailer she opted to walk back with the key. She looked at me with a twinkle in her I eye and said, “If you don’t think this is funny, what is?” I realized she was right, even if I didn’t laugh. As I walked back to the boat, my frustration seeped away and I’m pretty sure I did smile. The remainder of the process was uneventful, and we even did a quick tour around the lake in the boat.
Next time somebody tells me it might be amusing to sit and watch people trying to launch their boats, I’m going to smile and tell them they are probably right!
