” />
While on a Quebec bear hunt several years ago my son and I got a chance to do a little lake trout/northern pike fishing one morning. The lake we were on was about 12 miles long, and very cold and deep. The owner of the camp said we would have to go almost to the end of the lake to find the “secret spot.” We left early in the morning in an 18 foot boat powered by a new 15 horse Yamaha motor. Don (another bear hunter we had met) tagged along with us, as we motored across the beautiful calm waters.
I was glad it was a nice day, as the rocky tops of submerged (hills) were laying in wait, just below the surface of the water. We arrived at our destination, which was a smaller lake connected to the big one. We fished this area for about 3-4 hours, with only 2 nice northerns to show for it. The surrounding hills sheltered any wind from stirring up the water very much, but I was starting to notice some dark clouds moving in fast.
I told Don we needed to start heading back before we got caught in a storm. By the time we came to the end of the little channel, connecting the two lakes, I could see white caps and bent trees! We hit the big lake with throttle open all the way. I could not see where the submerged rocks were, and was fearful of us not making it back. The wind picked up more, and the rain was blinding my vision. I could not let go of the throttle for one second! If I did the wave directly behind me, would swamp the boat instantly.
I told my son, if we went in the water, to swim for the nearest shore, and wait for help. I explained that I would be ok, and not to worry about salvaging anything. Don was older than I was, and I told him to stay as close to my 9 year old son as possible, and that I would hopefully be right there with them. It really did not look good to see this wave (two foot higher than the motor) trying to come down in my back pocket. We prayed, and I told my son how much I loved him, and that no matter everything would be alright.
I don’t think I truly believed that myself, and my hand was starting to really throb, due to holding the throttle wide open for so long. The little 15 horse needed about 10 more of his buddies helping him!
How we made it back without hitting the rocks, or being swamped, is beyond me. I think our guardian angels worked some overtime, as our prayers were surely answered. I never let on to my son that it was a “big” deal, but I did tell him it would be nice if he didn’t mention it to his mother. As far as I know our little secret is still “our little secret!”
Mike
Little boat, big water… the sailor’s prayer.
I’ve had a handful of similar experiences on the water, Mike. It’s hard to just hold on and keep on with nothing much more than faith to get you through, isn’t it? But it almost always works out.
Glad it worked out for you this time.
Thanks for the great little story.