A Three-Hour Tour

A Three-Hour Tour

“Unexpected things happen in life more often than you expect.”

Plautus

Several years ago, my wife and I went on a business trip down to Newport Beach for a few days with our friends Matt and Jeri, Randy and Suzanne.

We stayed at a beautiful hotel near the water. Randy, Matt, and I attended meetings, while our wives relaxed at the resort. Since our mutual friends, Craig and Margie, lived nearby, we visited them on Sunday afternoon, knowing we had to be back for a dinner reception by five.

Craig offered to take us for a little cruise around Balboa Island, which we much enjoyed. The day and surroundings were lovely and, as I remember it, we had some wine and cheese while taking in the sites.

On our way back to Craig’s place, we saw a solitary couple on the beach, a little boy and his mother. The boy was crying and pointing at a brightly colored beach ball floating midway between us and them. The boy was about three years old, and his mother couldn’t swim out to get the ball without leaving her son on the beach.

So, we all agreed that we should go after the ball. What we didn’t realize, until it was too late, was that there were two underwater ropes between scattered buoys along the shoreline; these keep boats from doing the very thing we were about to do, namely, get too close to the shore when there is no dock.

Within moments, we were stuck right where we were, with the submerged ropes hopelessly tangled in our prop. Craig shut off the motor, and we sat there, watching the brightly colored beach ball happily bob in the water about thirty feet away. The mother and son abandoned the beach.

We had a little more wine and cheese and called harbor patrol, who said they could reach us in an hour or so. We knew it would take them some time to untangle the boat once they got there, not to mention the lecture that was sure to follow.

Knowing that we would miss dinner if we waited through all that, I began considering how to untangle the ropes. Somewhat possessed, I shed some clothes, jumped in, and swam under.

Did I mention that it was March? The water was brisk and dark under the boat, but after an initial inspection, having received sufficient assurances that Craig would not start the motor, I swam back under.

The prop was highly tangled in both ropes. I began the untangling, occasionally coming up for air and clinging to the side of the boat. During one surfacing, Randy encouraged me, asking, “How much longer do you think you’ll be?”

After a while, and it was quite a while, it occurred to me that I could make better progress by keeping my eyes closed and focusing on the feel of the ropes in my fingers. At last, the ropes untangled. Gratefully, I climbed back in the boat and into my clothes, teeth chattering. Craig hurried us back to his house and me into a hot shower that never felt as good.

We made it to dinner on time, and, looking back on it, what seemed like an inconvenience turned out to be quite an adventure.