HOW NOT TO DOCK A BOAT (standard:humor, 447 words)
Author: Jennifer Green	Added: May 28 2001	Views/Reads: 3871/1	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Humorous story of beginning boater's experiences.

HOW NOT TO DOCK A BOAT 

Copyright 2001 by Jennifer Green 

My husband and I are beginning boaters.  He is doing quite well,
learning how to steer, taking care of the mechanical things, but I am 
having an inordinate amount of trouble learning the ropes.  On top of 
that, we tend to fight a lot in new situations, kind of turf warfare, 
so our boating experience can be described so far as adventurous at 
best. 

This is how we typically dock the boat.  I say a prayer, especially if
it's windy or rainy.  He yells, "Get the lines ready!"  I panic, trying 
desperately to remember which line.  He says, "Get the bow line!"  I 
take a few minutes to recall which end of the boat is the bow.  By that 
time I'm already late for the next critical thing I have to do, which 
is get the spring line (whatever that is) ready too.  At this point, we 
are usually somewhere within six feet of the dock.  This is the where I 
desperately start to run around and yell "Cut the engine, cut the 
engine!"  This is my reasoning.  I figure our best bet is to throw a 
line, any line, close to where our beleaguered boat neighbor is 
standing in the rain, kindly trying to help us dock yet again.  If the 
line should go into the water (as it inevitably does), and into the 
propeller, if it should wrap around the propeller and damage it, it 
will cost us $1,000 for a new prop.  However, if the engine is stopped, 
even if the line goes near the propeller, it can't possibly damage it, 
because the prop wouldn't be moving. 

Our boating neighbor has another idea.   He patiently tells my husband
to maneuver the boat a little closer.  At that point I say another 
prayer, and hope I'm not hit by lightening even if it's raining just a 
little.  Somehow, maybe because by that point usually someone on the 
dock somehow has managed to get a line, although I'm never clear 
exactly how that miracle happened, we are pulled in closely enough to 
the dock.  Mercifully he does finally cut the engine, and we are tied 
up once again to safety. 

A loud cheer goes up.  I proudly loop the bow line around the dock post
and then tie it again to the cleat on the boat.  (My husband was 
inexplicably agitated when he found out about that one.)  I inspect the 
cabin for property damage or injuries, and remind myself yet again why 
we bought a boat: to relax. 

Some people have no business being on the water, and I'm afraid I'm one
of them. 


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