Nightmares on the Water!

After 40 years of fishing, I’ve had my share of good, bad, and downright spooky things happen on the water.  While I’m generally not a superstitious person, sometimes you just gotta wonder if there are malevolent forces out to get you. After all there can’t be a “Scuba Steve” on every body of water at the same time.  

Case in point, what happened to my anchor? A few years ago, when I was the proud owner of a ridiculous pontoon boat, I was struggling to keep my vessel on structure with consistency. A heavier anchor was the solution, and I researched and soon found the ideal unit to solve the problem- a beastly 25 pound model designed to “stick” in strong currents and wind.

I trolled “Large Marge” up to the brush pile and immediately started marking fish. However, instead of stopping on top of the pile, I pointed the hulk’s bow into the breeze and eased past the honey hole. After around 50 feet, I shuffled up to the bow and eased my new anchor into the water; fastened to the brand new anchor rope and length of chain with a heavy-duty screw type carabiner. I paid out rope as the breeze pushed us back over the trees, and when we got to the target I held the line. Sensing zero resistance, I immediately knew something was wrong. For some reason my new anchor, designed to “stick” and hold a battleship, was not connecting to the bottom. My worst nightmare quickly became reality as I reeled in the rope. With much less effort than anticipated, I recovered the line hand over hand until I could see and feel the weight of the chain. To my horror, the carabiner, anchor, and over a hundred bucks had vanished completely. To this day, I still have zero rational explanation for this unsolved mystery. As a result, I can only assume that the lake is home to a sea monster with nimble and dextrous fingers. Nessie anyone?  

I’d be lying if I said this was the only time I’ve lost an anchor under strange circumstances. Rewind to 2004, and my buddies and I were one day into a camp and cook outing on pool 4 of the Mississippi. It was mid-October, and the river valley and bluffs were profoundly beautiful, drenched in myriad burnt shades of red, orange, and brown. The full moon was also upon us, and I’m certain it cast ill fortune upon our party that trip.  

Motoring upriver towards the campsite, my buddy wanted to try one more spot, just off the main channel of the mighty river, before supper. As the sun set on our left, I remember marveling at its beauty and noticing how strong the current was before my buddy shouted, “Johnson, throw the anchor!” Startled, I immediately grabbed the mud hook and heaved it out over the side, letting the rope sail through my hands. I barely even noticed when the end of the rope passed through my outstretched palms. The limp cord waved mockingly at me as it slipped into the depths without so much as a splash. I stared in disbelief for a moment until the steady stream of curses coming from the back of the boat snapped me back to reality. “What were you thinking you #$%& @&*?” I’d assumed the anchor was already tied off, but one could never tell given the standard mess and disarray in the bottom of my friend’s boat. However, I was certain he told me it was tied off earlier and still blame gremlins, bananas, or whatever convenient superstition comes to mind when we revisit the incident.

Some people should leave installing marine electronics to the pros. Either that or they should have a holy person bless the boat, or line it with rabbits’ feet post-installation to ward off bad luck and evil spirits. In any case, I would’ve accepted both after borrowing a buddy’s boat one ill-fated afternoon.

The depth finder said we were in 8 feet of water as we cruised the jon boat across the flat. We were not! “WHAM!” The vessel was literally rocked by a huge impact on the lower unit, nearly knocking the outboard off the transom and engaging the kill switch. After we caught our breaths and skidded to a stop on the gravel bar, I tilted the motor forward to assess the damage. Fortunately the skeg and the prop took the brunt of the impact, and the lower unit was otherwise okay. However, Pac Man himself couldn’t have devoured the prop better than the rocks. In an instant, underwater boulders had destroyed the sleek aluminum blades, rendering the prop useless. As luck would have it, a relative was fishing nearby and witnessed the entire incident and came over to make sure we were okay. We tossed him a line and he asked, “What were you guys doing driving that fast in a foot of water?” All I could do was shake my head.  

He carefully towed us back to the boat launch, and we loaded the boat for further inspection. The hull had a few more scrapes and scratches, but was no worse for wear. The skeg and prop were both complete losses, and that’s when we noticed the transducer. The unit was mounted upside down and backwards, and it actually took someone some effort to mount it so poorly. This was the reason for the inaccurate depth reading and near disaster. Since I appreciated the use of the guy’s boat, I never said anything to him about it. However, I did replace the prop I’d ruined and discreetly re-mounted the transducer properly. We never did borrow that boat again, but I reckon the owner was surprised by the “new” information it revealed.

Anchors and props can certainly ruin a day on the water, but near-death experiences with friends and family are truly the stuff of nightmares. Luckily, and with the Good Lord’s blessing, my crew has only suffered bumps, bruises, and occasionally had to change their shorts over more than 25 years of outings.  

The weather was blustery and the fishing was a bust on pool 4 of the Mississippi. We’d run a few miles south of Wabasha to pluck some white bass and walleyes off of a wing dam, but all we’d caught was the cold. After enduring the wind and spitting rain for several hours we decided to call it a day. Back in those days the barges still ran props and their wake was massive. As our two boats raced back upriver, we were chilled to the bone with bloodshot eyes from the previous night’s festivities. The stinging spray further blurred our vision, and we misjudged our proximity to the massive barge that was chugging up the hill.  

My buddy had 3 in his boat and he hit the first line of waves at full speed. We immediately saw they were in trouble. Shawn was in the bow when they hit the first wave and was tossed violently in the air. From our boat someone cried out, “He just about tossed Shawn!” A moment later they hit the second line of waves, and a different voice screamed, “He did toss Shawn!” Horrified, we watched our best friend cartwheel through the air, tossed like a rag doll from the speed and impact. His body twisted and contorted in midair before landing with a tremendous splash in the raging river. Stunned and wearing heavy clothes with no life jacket, Shawn struggled to tread water in the angry waves. After cutting our motor when Shawn was jettisoned, now we gunned it to get to him. We eased alongside, careful not to hit him with the hull and hauled him roughly over the gunnel to safety. We were all in shock at what had just occurred. Our friends upriver idled and bobbed violently in the erratic wake. We checked Shawn over for injuries, and other than being wet, cold, and getting the scare of a lifetime, he was fine. We continued upriver in silence, each quietly reflecting on what could’ve happened, the quiet only interrupted by the hum of the outboard and the cry of seagulls. When we arrived at the boat launch the shock had worn off, and the top priority was to get Shawn back to the house for some dry clothes (and a fresh pair of shorts).

If you fish long enough things won’t always go as planned. Sometimes it feels like our faith is being tested, and other times dark and sinister actors seem to be involved. While it can be easy to blame our bad luck on gremlins, redheads, whistling, and bananas, most often we only have ourselves to blame when things go south. To avoid nightmares on the water, take a little extra time to prepare for each outing. Make a checklist of important items to remember, and most importantly don’t get complacent when you’re on the water with friends.