Page 19 the recovery:
Too soon yet for me to plan to be anywhere with the boat. I'm still a little concerned about how much water was draining from the drain plug when I got it on the trailer. At the time it was sitting, the water was not up into the engine compartment, so I could just be worried over nothing. After all, it has been more than two weeks since the last time I pulled the boat out of the water.
Anyhow, I've been wracking my brain to think of what more I can say, or how I can say it other than the good news I gave the other day. It was truly amazing to see the boat move with a little help from a simple machine- the lever.
I'm not so sure that I could have moved it last time I was out at the boat, which is when I took the photos from page 12. The water was still below the chine, and I know it had a considerable amount of weight still on the keel even though it was upright. A lever may have moved it at that point, but the pole would not. I'm sure of that. Even if we had 75% the water depth needed, I'm sure far more than 25% of the boat's weight was still resting on earth. I sure as heck would have tried it, had I anything useful.
I know we've all mentioned several ideas, scores of ideas for ways to get the boat out. So did friends off-forum. It's interesting to me having lived through this how many people just expect that a little rain can bring a drought-ridden area into a flood (we didn't get that rain, but it did happen nearby) or how many people have an opinion on how to get the boat out before they have a full realization of exactly what the circumstances are. Obviously it was not practical to dig a channel for it with shovels, as we would have had to dig in muddy water (couldn't really see how deep or wide we were really making a channel) and the trash pump idea may not have worked with such heavy sticky clay bottom. The ideas for noodles and float sacks were great ideas, but would not have been helpful with the boat in 6-8" of water, I imagine. They would have had to spread the weight over a much greater area, an area that would have been wide enough to clip those bags on exposed twigs along the water. We talked about getting 4-wheelers or 4x4's down there, but they would have likely got stuck, or the CoE would have socked a fine on us. Others have suggested pulling the boat to shore and "put it on the trailer" but I still don't see how that would happen without a crane, and this was a location that a crane could not be brought in to.
I tried very much to be polite when hearing the same suggestions over and over again, all from very friendly and well-intentioned people. I have to admit, towards the end of the predicament it was getting tiresome to hear any suggestion, even the good ones.
As one would have to imagine, though, as more water came in, more solutions became viable. And I was ready to try them all.
On Saturday, a friend and I decided we were going to go out and free the boat with a speculated 13-15" of water under it. We decided to come better prepared than in my prior visits, and as I had mentioned before, I bought some supplies.
These included:
7-foot wooden oar (figured it'd make a good lever, push pole and possibly a paddle in a pinch. I even joked about putting oar locks on the boat)
12-foot collapsible aluminum push-pole
"Duck Foot" attachment for the pole, permitting ability to push against a greater area of the lake bed. Less sink, more push.
Booster pack jump starter "just in case"
Alas, we were meeting friends for a concert that evening, Living Colour (as a bass player, I had to go see Doug Wimbish), and we were to meet near the venue rather early so as to have dinner and drinks together. Due to the fact that we spent so much time running around and getting "supplies" we really didn't have time to go to the boat, as the location where it was stuck was a 45 minute drive by itself, then a 30-or-so minute hike down and out the water to the boat.
Probably a good thing, though, because the water level came up even more overnight and was steady all day Sunday.
Anyhow- I had another engagement Sunday from 9AM-5PM, answering questions about and giving rides in electric vehicles (PM me if you're interested to know more, that topic is for a whole other forum). After being out in the sun and standing and walking all day, I *really* did not feel like going to try and save the boat, especially since it wasn't a certainty that the ~2" rise since the last time I was out (pics, page 12) would actually float the boat.
After wasting nearly 30 minutes trying to talk myself out of it, I packed my gear and drove back out to Caddo Park (near Farmersville) from my house in Plano 30 miles away. I left a message with a friend and asked him to be on standby to take me back to my truck (which was parked some miles (by road) away from the actual boat ramp) so I could put the boat on the trailer. And off I went.
The trip out had become familiar, and I'm certain my truck and even the empty trailer attached to it have become a familiar sight at the little circle at the end of the road in the middle of nowhere. I hopped out, kitted up, threw the oar and pole over my shoulder and set out on the "trail". The whole way down, I was being positive, telling myself "This is the last time I'm hiking down this hill, I will NOT be hiking back up it."
The hike down was unimpressive, except for the game feeder site off to one side, which had been stamped into a mud pit by the boar population. Each trip down has been more difficult due to the rains inspiration on the "crops" to grow taller, and the "beach" disappearing under the lake, leaving me to slog through very wet mud and vegetation. This last hike out, I was spent by the time I got to the water, but told myself at this point that at the very least I was going to put the "supplies" on-boat for "next time" and grumbling about not wanting to hike back up that hill again.
Unlike the usual routine, where I would change into shorts and water shoes for the "splash" out to the boat, I decided not to waste the time, and just went out to the boat in my long pants and boots. Screw it, I thought. It's been a warm day, and some nice cool clothes would be welcome. The distance to the boat from shore was nearly doubled by the 8.06" rise over the level on the day we were stuck. And it was deeper. Deeper, longer distance to travel, and I was fed up by the time I got to the boat. I stopped half way and rested before continuing.
I could see even before I got there that the water was over the chine, the boat had drifted next to a "bush" and both jets were covered with water, all except the gate shift rods.
Before taking off my pack, I gave the boat a shove... nothing. My heart sank. Surely she should move with all this water. The oar, which along with the pole helped me keep my balance while walking over the uneven and slick clay beneath the water, was then unceremoniously shoved under the back of the boat and several inches deep into the mud. Without hesitation, I shoved the shaft up with great effort, and she lurched forward several inches.
That was enough hope for me to pull the cover and prepare for recovery. I didn't bother to take the cover all the way off, instead somewhat throwing it to the port side of the boat. I then threw my pack aboard and tried to board, which was difficult, as the boat was creeping away from me as I tried to climb up. Once aboard, the bilge immediately cycled for about 4 seconds, and then cut off again. I went to the bow, and tried to pull the boat to the anchor. No luck, the rope would stretch, but the boat would not move. Again, my heart sunk. I unpacked the pole, extended it fully and put the "foot" on it. Then, standing on the swim deck, I was able to heave the boat forward some more. It was a lot of effort, and slow going, but it was moving. I would estimate I did this nearly 20-30 feet, judging by how much anchor rode I pulled in before it went tight again. The next attempt to haul the boat by the anchor line resulted in the anchor coming unset, and it was dragged the rest of the way to the boat.
I then pushed and pushed and pushed. I reckon in total, I moved the boat 150 ft by manual power, but saved myself all the effort of slogging through that water. At this point, if I had to guess, the boat was in about, or just about 20-24" of water. This is when I decided it was time to get the fork out!
I stuck the keys in, crossed my fingers, and hoped the battery would work without me putting the booster pack on. The starboard engine came to life after just about 2 seconds of cranking, but the port came to after nearly 6 seconds. For a moment my heart skipped a beat, because I just knew I couldn't get out on one engine if I couldn't get on plane. Luckily it caught, and as soon as the tach was alive, I threw both throttles forward to max RPM.
I agree with those of you who read my short update about the recovery, it would have been great to see the jets pumping 20+ foot streams of mud. I should know, I saw it. Sorry I didn't get it on video, or even a photo, but I'll be damned if I'm going to go get stuck again just to catch it on film.
It only took a couple seconds longer than normal to get a hole shot, and I got that thing on plane as fast as possible. Once I did, I very carefully retraced my steps, took a wiiiiide berth around the edges of the old submerged road bed, and took her out into 4+ foot water to run the engines a while. No overheat notices came on, so I'm reasonably confident I won't have much to clean out of the cooling water intake screens. I went south of the bridge "to be safe" in deeper waters, and freaked out when my depth finder, still reading "- - -" squeeled out the depth alarm (set at 6.0 ft) and turned around and parked it on the beach.
Before too long, my friend showed up and we got the boat on the trailer, but not before I had my first honest scare over the bow stop not being welded. That's next on the list, I just have to figure out how I'm going to get the trailer near enough to my welder. My breaker panel is next to the garage door, I'll likely just wire a temporary outlet for it there.
Pulled the drain, and it seemed to drain forever. I'm sure it was just my imagination, as the bilge pump never cycled but the one time after I got aboard, to my knowledge.
It was at this point that I realized I had forgot my boat buckles at the house, having removed them from the bed of the truck due to the part of town of the concert the previous evening. My two thickest dock lines and some creative application of years-faded knot tying got me about 5 runs of the line between the trailer hooks and transom eyes. She trailered home just fine, where I swapped the boat buckles back in for safety and convenience.
Then ... I took her back to storage for the night, her first night on the trailer in 15 days.
Here's the fun part. Earlier in the month, since the owner of the storage was one of the people I called while stuck on the lake, I told them that I was giving tentative notice to vacate my storage spot at the end of this month and told them if I didn't have the boat out by the end of the month, I'd pull the trailer and store it at my house until the boat could come out. You see, it's so much easier to maneuver an empty tandem-axle trailer with a trailer dolly than one with ~3500 lbs of boat on top of it. My alley is too narrow, and driveways too far offset for me to use the truck to back the trailer into the drive, hence why I have the storage. The trailer had been at my house for 3-4 days at this point. I digress- anyhow, I pull in, around the lot, and up to my slot. And wouldn't you know it I found a travel trailer parked in my slot. I was paid to the end of the month. I called the on-call cell phone, the owner lives on site at a house on the edge of the property. He came over and got me set up in a shorter slot (all the 25' slots were taken when I bought the boat this summer, but now there was one available). We did the necessary paperwork to change the lease, and he gave me a new slot-ID sticker to affix to the trailer. I went back into the lot to find the slot, only to learn that even numbers are on one side and odd on the other, and had to drive around the whole lot again to get to mine.
The fun part, this section of the lot isn't well lit, there were two black trailers on either side of my boat's new "home", I only have the stock scene light and backup lights on the truck, and the guy directly across from me hadn't backed in all the way to his spot. It was damn near impossible for me to park the trailer, but I got it done.
Prior to this, I forgot to mention, I had really good light and saw the underside of the boat. It looked good, and free of scratches, but I was only looking for big damage. All I could see that told that the boat had been stuck in the mud was some mud still stuck to the boat.
Anyhow, I didn't even cover it. I need to go back and pick it up later this week and give it some good attention with a pressure washer. A tip I've heard is to go ahead and get down and wax the hull, as this will immediately show me if and where there are scratches, and how big they are. If there's no damage through the gel coat, I'm not going to bother doing anything except install a keel guard. The guard is going on no matter what.
It's still too soon to tell, but I think I've managed to press my luck and tempt fate twice, once when I got in there and again when I got out. Nobody was injured, all three people aboard are still good friends and still talk to me, and it's made for some interesting fun talking about it with people. In the end, most of what got me out was waiting until there was enough water to even hope to float, followed by simple leverage and finally brute horsepower. I would not have attempted running the engines in any more shallow water than I did, and most especially not when the jets weren't fully underwater where they could actually bite without cavitation.
And now, for some photos... I didn't take any of freeing the boat, because obviously I was slogging through mud and using both hands to lever and push pole. I didn't get any of the mud jets because I was too keen on watching where the boat was headed and instruments, and making millisecond-by-millisecond go/no-go decisions on whether I'd continue with the engines. I certainly wanted both hands free in case the boat crashed to a stop against a submerged stump. But I did get some photos.
This photo isn't related to the recovery, other than the fact that my friend and I saw it while we were running errands for "supplies"... I've wanted a deuce and a half my whole life (i have a thing about trucks, not that there's anything wrong with that!) and have been drooling for years over the "shorty 4x4" conversions people have done to this magnificent 6x6 truck. This is the first of this type I've ever seen... rather than doing a shorty (which removes the rear drive axle) this removed the front drive axle, used the same bed the shorties are using, and had a stretched crew cab on top. Where was this guy a week ago when I was almost ready to pay the CoE the fine for having a 4x4 on the lake and drag the boat out.
Obligatory pictures of the dogs playing in the creek on one of several hikes to check the water levels and current speed in some nearby creeks.
Now, if you may recall, or maybe you don't... I think I mentioned in the first post that no-one aboard on the day we were stuck had pen or paper, and I thought I'd put a pad and pen on the boat when I bought it. The mud was my ink, the boat was my notepad. And that's where I wrote down all the numbers we called on the day we were stuck. Several washed away (even under the cover) in the rain.
To say the boat was muddy was an understatement. We were on and off the boat dozens of times in the 3.5 hours we waited to get a ride out of there. Most of that time was tracking down someone who could help, the rest was how long it took for the VFD to make their way out to us.
Self portrait of me in a sort of stoic victory pose with my magical oar. I apparently was not in a good mood, despite getting the boat free.
And another self-portrait, and in this one you can tell the boat is underway. Can you see me looking for signs of shallow water?
And in closing... there is peace on these waters, now that I have my baby back...
Thanks to everyone for their support, you all say you wouldn't have had as much patience as I, but I really had little other choice besides having a greater risk of damaging the boat. In the end, I was dealt a good hand and I played those cards right. I went to get the boat last night because I didn't believe my luck would improve after a full day of steady water levels and a bleak outlook for rain. Nonetheless, the forecasters proved again they don't know anything, and we got socked with another big gully washer tonight, and thus far the water has risen about 3/4" more than yesterday. I just know, though, if I'd talked myself into waiting another day, it would have been dry as a bone until next April.
