Wednesday, August 04, 2004

Note to self, make sure gas line is plugged into motor...

For the second time in a month, I have marooned myself in the middle of Greenwich Cove. The first time was 4th of July weekend. Todd and I were getting ready to sail for the weekend to Newport with some friends. We were both running last minute errands, getting things to bring on the trip, etc. I arrived at the marina, with a Jeep load of stuff, and saw that the dinghy was filled with stuff that Todd must've put there and still tied to the dock. Though Todd's car was not there.

"I'll be the excellent wife that I am, and bring all this stuff out to the boat for Todd." I said to myself. I hopped in the dinghy, fired it up, pulled out of the slip, cranked the throttle to full blast, let out a Fried Green Tomatoes-esque "TAWANDA!" battle cry and headed to the mooring.

Then it happened...





The engine died when I was about 20 feet away from the boat. So much for Tawanda. I looked down, and discovered where Todd must have been at that very minute. Filling the gas tank, which was not sitting there attached to the motor.

"This is embarrassing" I said to myself, as I grabbed an oar, and decided to ride the tide back to the dock. "Nobody has to know this happened. I'll just tie back up, and look like I'd been sitting at the dock, waiting for him all along."

No dice. I looked up and saw not only Todd, but our friends Mike and Sarah were there as well. Luckily Mike was able to capture my humiliation with his digital camera, so we can all never forget this moment. Greeeeat.

So, today I decided to check the bilge on the boat during my lunch break. I hopped in the dinghy, fired up, throttle up, howled battle cry, sputter, sputter, pbbbbblt. Crap! We loaned our oars to a friend, now what? Then I looked down and discovered that fuel line was not actually plugged into the motor.

"Hmmm... now that's interesting, embarrassing, but interesting." Plugged in, fired up, throttle up, meek battle cry as was embarrassed, and I arrived safely, this time feeling so much better that no one could see this chick marooned in Greenwich Cove... um... again.



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