Fishing in the rain
We spent most summers on Nolin Lake doing two things: fishing and swimming. Usually we fished more than we swam. One summer my dad, my sister and I spent a week at the lot on Nolin Lake by ourselves, with my aunt and cousins to join us the following week.
One day we took the pontoon out to find a place to fish. We stopped at a few places, but did not find any fish willing to take our bait. We headed back to the campsite, and turned the boat into the little cul-de-sac area off of Dog Creek.
My dad decided to go around the left side of the island, and about two-thirds of the way around the island he spotted a place that looked promising for fish, so we pulled the boat into shore and began to fish.
I sat toward the front of the pontoon, which afforded me a view of the island. A little “V” shape in the trees and brush allowed me to look across the island towards the northeast. About 30 minutes after we started fishing, I looked up and noticed a very dark rain cloud bearing down on our position. I told my dad I saw a cloud coming up, and he said, “I see it.” I thought no more about it, but kept an eye on the cloud.
I guess I should tell you that my dad was at the back of the pontoon looking generally westward as he fished. This fact becomes important in just a few minutes.
I kept watching the cloud get closer, and as it got closer it also started to get darker.
Finally I told my dad, “this cloud sure does look bad, do you think we should head to camp?” My dad said no, and that the cloud did not look too bad. At that point I quipped, “What cloud are you looking at?” He then told me he was looking at a cloud coming in from the west. He then jokingly asked, “What cloud are you looking at?” I replied, “the one coming over the island!”
In the process of answering my dad, I turned to look at him. When he heard me say it was coming over the island he spun around, took a look at the cloud, utter a few words not suitable for print and said, “We need to get out of here now!”
I quickly untied the boat, my sister pulled up the anchor and the fishing basket and my dad started the pontoon. I think I mentioned in an earlier column that the pontoon did not go very fast. Though we opened the throttle wide-open on the pontoon, we were not going fast, and we needed speed to beat the storm to the campsite. To make matters worse, just as we rounded the island toward the campsite a strong wind kicked up.
When we fixed up the pontoon, my uncle put half-inch thick outdoor plywood as a top for the pontoon, which also served as a place for the girls to lay-out and tan. In addition to adding weight to the pontoon, when the pontoon was moving forward at full throttle the boat was tilted slightly toward the back, which caused it to catch air. This usually did not present a problem, as the pontoon did not go fast enough to catch much wind; that day the angle presented a massive problem.
When we rounded the island, we turned directly into the wind, and the roof acted as a large air brake, and slowed the pontoon even more.
Mere seconds after the wind kicked up, it started pouring rain. In a matter of seconds all three of us were drenched. It seemed like it took an hour for us to make the campsite, and just as we docked the boat the rain started to ease.
We still needed to walk up the steep, rain-slicked hillside to the trailer, which proved an adventure in itself. By the time we managed to slog our way to the trailer, the rain quit. I think the only thing we caught that day was colds!
By Ralph Dickerson
