a camp story: stranded at lake

it was a rare occasion when the dynamic duo (that'd be becca and myself) had the chance to team up and take a boat out together. for those who don't know, becca and i worked at a christian camp this past summer. on top of our role as counselors for 6-8 girls, we also worked waterfront...which means lifeguarding and instructing watersports. even though we were always working at the lake at the same time, we were hardly ever paired up. the particular day which i'm about to narrate was one of those days.

the day started off as usual. we had just finished a delicious breakfast of waffles and nutella and were attempting to wrangle fifty some odd boys into cabin lines for a head count. when we had finally succeeded, they all scrambled onto the buses (which were painted with an assortment of mermaids, piggy tails, american flags, and camouflage). we bounced our way down the dusty mountainside switchbacks as we sang songs (such as "there's a hole in the bottom of the sea" and the like). of course, we were coughing from the dust that was pouring through the glassless windows. everyone goggled at the dead coyote hanging by his tail on the fence through the brush...every time someone would whine that they still didn't see it (apparently, the people who owned the property did it to ward off other coyotes? don't ask me...i'm not from texas). then, we had the kids blow really hard (as if they were blowing out all the candles of their one-hundred-and-eleventy-th birthday cake) to the rear of the bus to propel us up insanity hill. for real, we almost didn't make it a few times. finally, we arrived at the clearing and all the boys went running in every direction, grabbing xxl life jackets for their xxs bodies.

so, on this day, becca and i had the green tigé together. awesome. it just so happens that we had the "boys are wimps" boys again. by this time, they had all gotten over their fear of the water and were eager to get as many chances as possible to kneeboard. this one particular boy was always bouncing around the boat and we had to constantly tell him to sit on his butt. that gets pretty old. but we had patience...even though the bouncing was always accompanied by some kind of sing-song chant that went "don't rock the boat, baby! don't rock the boat! don't rock the boat..." and on and on.

"old faithful" would not be a good nickname for the green tigé. indeed, it was old...entire sections of padding were exposed where the seat cover had been picked through, you couldn't turn the key past a certain point when starting it up, and if you let go of the wheel, the boat would take you for a u-ie. but the fact that it pulled kids up out of the water was good enough. we had been going for about an hour when we turned off the boat to switch out boys. we spent the typical five minutes or so getting his feet into the wakeboard bindings. he was in the water, hands gripping the end of the rope, and what do you know? the boat doesn't start.

i turn the key again...an awful sound churns in the boat's belly. it sounds like a combination of donald duck quacking angrily and a coughing horse. i pause a few seconds and try it again. same thing. by this time, "don't rock the boat" boy is jumping from side to side of the boat screaming "we're gonna die! we're gonna die!" and causing all the other boys to freak out. obviously, becca and i weren't too happy about this. throw in the wind element that was sending us toward muddy bank and you can a better picture of what we were dealing with.

we settled them down and called for help on our camp radio. it was a pretty long and drawn out ten minutes before help came. all the while, we were reassuring the boys that we wouldn't be stuck out there all day. the pontoon boat made its way over to pick up our eight little castaways. i'd like to say that one-by-one they all calmly climbed onto the rescue ship...but they didn't. finally, man-help arrived by way of jet ski. he cranked the key a few times...same horrid noise, accompanied by a pungent rubber-burning-like smell. eventually, nothing happened when he turned the key. the thing, at least for now, was out of commission. using tow ropes typically used for pulling tubers, he lassoed the boat and suddenly, the little jet ski was transformed into a tug boat. the little tug boat that could. we safely made it to the dock.

and why should i be surprised to find that i was assigned to the green tigé the very next day? figures.

additional camp stories: 8 legged freaks, dance with me? , the worst day of camp, boys are wimps