My friend Leo has a sweet vacation pad in Jamestown, and he graciously invited some of the softball guys and their families up for the weekend. We went and decided on Saturday to go boating on Lake Tulloch, thinking that we would spend a lazy day swimming and touring around the lake. The weather was perfect, the water inviting and so we set out in our rented pontoon to find a slice of the lake that we could call our own. Then, we saw the wave. 
A power boat pulling two adrenaline loving kids in inner tubes barreled in front of us leaving a wake that looked like it was the size of the empire state building. We were heading full steam right at it, and Leo, who was driving, cut the engine in a seemingly wise effort to slow the speed at which we hit the rapidly growing wall of water. Instead, the nose of the boat dipped into the water, and the now tidal wave sized wake hit us like paddle hits a fraternity pledge’s bare ass. I was sitting in the front of the boat, holding my friend’s seven month old, and held on for dear life as a wall of water smashed through the boat, destroying everything in its path. People in the back of the boat watched in disbelief as the wave crashed off the ceiling of the boat (!) and swept through, drenching everyone and everything on the boat. Some say that a second wave hit us equally hard, but I was so focused on not shitting my pants that I really didn’t notice.
The aftermath resembled the chaos of D-Day, with all of us wandering around looking shell shocked and wondering what to do. Daniel, the father of the infant I was clinging to, jumped up, and, with the vacant look of an infantryman looking for a missing limb on the ground, muttered that the boat was going down and we needed to get to the back of the boat. The parents of the six kids on board scrambled to make sure that their loved ones were indeed still on on board. Of course the seven year old with us jumped up and down and immediately asked if we could do it again.
Daniel and Suzi’s camera got doused, and every towel, diaper, and extra piece of clothing we had on board was sopping wet. A couple of articles of clothing had washed out of the boat, and, after retrieving them, we cautiously made our way over to the side of the lake to swim. In an unsuccessful effort to dry out our stuff, we transformed the boat into a shanty town by hanging all of the wet stuff from the top and sides of the pontoon. The people who drove by didn’t see the disaster strike, and stared at the ridiculous collection of towels and clothing that hung all around us. We had a relaxing time the rest of the day, although talk of the rogue wave was never far from our lips.
At the end of the day, we ran into a flotilla of young people in boats basking in the sun, playing loud music, and generally acting hip. We didn’t really have the heart to join them, as we knew down deep inside that we had almost been done in by a motorboat towing some kids. We cautiously made our back to the dock and kissed the ground upon our return to dry land. Back at the sweet pad, we smoked cigars, drank whiskey, and reenacted the whole event as often as we could. I hope we can do it again next time!
Tags: trainwrecks
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As captain of this ill fated vessel, I share with you some words of wisdom:
When one of your passengers demands more speed, first ask yourself, "should I really be listening to a 7-year-old?"
Other good advice:
- Put the babies up front!
- Just throw the towels on the floor!
Cap'n Leo, I believe you were listening to the advice of the 2.5 year old sitting behind you. Co-captain Hank has a reckless streak…
"Always wear your life vest," the rental lady said…silly rabbit. Rogue waves? Where?