A
few weeks ago, I decided to take the Betty Jane II out
for a spin. Before hitting the trail, I did my regular
due diligence. I checked the oil, transmission fluid
and coolant levels in my Yanmar and cranked ‘er up.
Then I switched on all my electronics, both topside
and below, and briefly eyeballed the water sliding past Betty’s hulll-
side to gauge the tide. And then, with mounting excitement (still
crazy after all these years, I’m afraid), I exercised all my steering
and engine controls to make sure they were fully operational.
Probably, I did a few other things, too, but you get the idea.
Over the years, I’ve come to understand that there’s a certain un-
dercurrent of unpredictability to boating, despite all the fun and
serenity it affords. And since unpredictability tends to manifest
without warning, it’s always good to be prepared. You know, by
dealing with all the things that can possibly go wrong before they
actually haul off and do so.
What a morning it was—sunny, smooth, gorgeous! After I’d
tossed off Betty’s lines and eased her out of her slip, I kicked back
at the upper helm station and began hatching a plan. Maybe a
trip upriver to Doctor’s Lake would be nice. Or a jaunt downriver
to the port to watch the harbor pilots work. The possibilities were
numerous and alluring.
But then—yikes! Just as I began turning from the fairway into
the main channel, Betty’s steering wheel lost traction. Although
I spun the darn thing around and around, the rudder seemed to
have no effect—we just kept going straight. I throttled back, pulled
the gear shift into neutral and made an enthusiastic descent to the
lower helm station. Would the steering wheel work there? Nope!
“This,” I immediately opined to myself, “ain’t good.” Betty’s a
single-engine inboard vessel, after all, and without an operational
rudder she tends to morph into a rather large, heavy projectile.
To make matters worse, the tide was authoritative. It was now
carrying Betty back toward the row of slips I’d just departed,
where the prows of neighboring vessels lay arrayed like ducks in
a shooting gallery. Visions of crunched fiberglass began flashing.
A lump bubbled up in my throat.
Which brings me to the point I’d like to make about the pre-
paredness theme I began with. Oh, I know. I know. Any number
of authorities on boating safety will tell you that you have to do
all kinds of stuff to prepare for any and all contingencies, whether
they arise on the mechanical front, the electrical front, the navi-
gational front or whatever. But let’s get real here.
Boating, like many another sporty activity, is at bottom a risky
business. On any given day, there’s absolutely no way anybody,
however careful, talented, earnest or prescient, can be totally pre-
pared for everything.
But here’s the upbeat part. The riskiness, I think, is actually a
good thing, primarily because it almost always involves chal-
lenge. And challenge, although it often feels a tad uncomfortable,
is what puts the fizz in life, the salt in the chowder. Indeed, if tak-
ing Betty out for a ride didn’t occasionally engender a challenge
or two, I’m afraid my life-long love affair with boats and boating
would simply fade away without a sniffle.
Did I just mention feeling a tad uncomfortable? Well, just pri-
or to going down for the third time in a sweaty sea of desperation
(glub, glub, glub), I discovered that, by putting a near-infinite
number of turns on Betty’s wheel, I could move her rudder slight-
ly and thereby produce a faint change in direction. So, although
the docking extravaganza that ensued came closer to an athletic
event than a maneuvering exercise, I ultimately machinated Bet-
ty back into her slip without a scratch. And oh, the cause of the
steering casualty? A bad hydraulic cylinder. U
Forget About It!
UNCHARTED WATERS
There’s simply no way you can be prepared for everything.
152
By Capt. Bill Pike
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If a little risk paralyzes you
with fear, boating probably
isn’t the sport for you!