If I had a nickel for every river story I could write, I would have $8.45. Well I’m not even halfway there yet so here’s another one. Although our river friends are in the story with us and one of our boats, we weren’t on the river. We were on Lake Michigan.
We were on Lake Michigan because it was the summer weekend of one of Chicago’s great traditions, the Air & Water Show. Growing up near Chicago and later living there, I have seen more than my share of this show. You always know it’s coming because the Blue Angels practice for a few days before the event. And if you have never seen them you would be shocked with awe. They fly in precise patterns at great speeds, so fast that they are long gone before the deafening sound they create catches up to you. It will make your hair stand on end, every time.
Earlier in the spring, the usual suspects (our boating community) gathered around one of our piers with drinks and started planning the weekend. We used to call ourselves “A cute little drinking community with a boating problem.” Greg, who loves boating and was a master of trailering them, offered to get his boat to the lake. This is probably a one hour effort requiring a fair amount of preplanning to pull it off without issue. Our friends, Greg and Kathy owned a Boston Whaler at the time. Greg was obsessed with Boston Whalers and he had a beauty!
By early August and a week away from the show, we were pretty much ready. Greg would be driving of course and his crew would consist of about eight or nine close friends, Carrie and I included. On the day of the show, the weather was absolutely perfect. We all met up at Winthrop Harbor and loaded the boat. We pushed off with plenty of time to make the afternoon affair. “Is it too early for a beer?” I questioned my captain. “Not if you are joining me.” he responded. This is how most of our conversations over the 15 years in my boating life started with Greg and me. I drew in a healthy breath and exhaled. Boating on Lake Michigan on a beautiful day with a cold beer in hand is not a bad way to start a day.
Although the audience that turns out is massive and consist of 98% of the folks watching from land, there is a real privilege to watching the show from the water as you can see above. We had made this trip by boat twice. Today was the first attempt and it was an awesome day. It is a 55 mile stretch from Winthrop Harbor to Lincoln Park and we made good time on mild calm water. Once the anchor was in, our group switched focus to drinks and food. The show had just started.
Carrie was caught up in several conversations with some of the other ladies so I grabbed another beer and started sharing jokes with the guys. I would recite them here but, frankly, they were a bit sophomoric. And like every other time, when the Blue Angels showed up they bussed right over our heads. I lost a little bit of urine. They get me every time.
It was a wonderful afternoon. Carrie and I kissed in the summer sun on the boat in paradise. Boating can be very provocative. Before long, the lazy afternoon was coming to a close. It was time to pull the anchor. With the last of the air show blowing over us, we prepared to depart.
Captain Greg checked all systems and got the two outboard engines up and running. It was time to make the long trip back to Winthrop Harbor where all of our cars were basking in the August afternoon sun. I remember this part so well. Carrie was holding on to the center console on the port side and I was just opposite her holding on the console on the starboard side. Greg was in between us manning the wheel and sharing an old Navy story with me. Carrie was more than preoccupied with the circle of ladies near her. I could see her shiny face in the summer sun. Her laugh has always been very infectious and the ladies were cracking up over something, I don’t know what. It was hard to hear on the open sea on a fast boat with wind blowing through your hair.
Then it happened.
At one point Carrie had been conversing with someone in front of her when someone caught her attention from behind. In the motion of simply turning her head to the stern of the boat, her very expensive prescription glasses/sunglasses flew into the air and into Lake Michigan. $500 lost.
I seen the whole thing and I was quite upset. There is a time and cost to such a tragedy. The day was going so well. Why do bad things happen to good people is usually what I say at a moment such as this. For some reason curiosity got the better of me like a bored house cat. So I took action.
I stepped away from the captain and moved towards the stern of the boat. The two massive outboard engines were roaring with power and slicing lake water through them at tremendous speed. They were attached to a white swim platform that was drowning in less than an inch of water. We were on plane, as they say in the boating world. And there they were… Right before my eyes… Carrie’s glasses, bouncing around on the swim platform.
I had no choice. I had to get them.
Now if I asked Greg to slow down or stop, the swim platform would get swamped with excessive water and the glasses would be lost. Nope. I had to climb out there at 60 miles an hour. That’s just over 52 knots for you boaters that are reading. This would be quite a precarious position to put myself in and yet there they were just waiting for me.
There are certain moments in my life when I decide to do something that I know I ought not. Once after just purchasing a new monthly train pass for the Chicago EL I dropped it and it fell off the train station platform and onto the tracks. The train system has a third rail. Touch it and you die. I set down my briefcase amongst hundreds of awaiting passengers and retrieve my $60 pass without incident. People were mortified. And of course there was the Great Racoon Lake Campfire Blessing too.
So Greg is blasting north up Lake Michigan, Carrie (without glasses) is listening to some story about a lost dog and I am staring at her glasses. I flipped an invisible coin in my head and decided to go for it. Stepping over the stern was the easy part. Maneuvering around two three-hundred horsepower motors was another thing. The sound was deafening. The engines rattled the back of the boat with such intensity that it made even holding on difficult. My feet were soaked in an inch of water and my steps were contrived and slow. The glasses now lay at my feet moving with the water in little circles. I slowly, ever so slowly, reached down and grabbed them. I put them in my swim short’s pocket and placed both hands on the stern wall.
A moment later I was safe back in the boat. I always have a handkerchief on me and since I had not used it once that day I cleaned Carrie’s glasses while taking a very long breath of sea air. I did it and the captain was never the wiser. Nothing left but to be the hero of the day, which I actually like to play when I can. I moseyed up, no I sauntered up, to the port side of the boat where the cluster of ladies were gathered, cleared my throat and interrupted a forty minute conversation as I placed Carrie’s glasses back on her face. A high-pitched roar went up as everyone realized that Carrie’s vision was restored.
The captain did not know what all the excitement was about. I wandered back to the starboard knowing I still had one good dirty joke left to share with him.
It was a good day.
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You are my hero. You have risked your life. Love you!
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