This past father’s day, I was out-of-town visiting my father. While I was away, my husband decided that he would go fishing (I know. What a shock! NOT.) on father’s day. So – he loaded up the canoe and his fishing gear and headed over to the War Eagle Creek / River. Alone.
I arrived home Sunday evening around 8:30 pm to an empty house. My son was working, but there wasn’t a note from Tim explaining where he had gone or when he would be back. 9:00 pm – still no Tim. 9:30 pm – phone call from unknown number. I answer – fearing some stranger is calling to tell me bad news. It was Tim.
Me: “Where is your cell phone?” (hoping the answer is related to a dead battery).
Tim: “Dead at the bottom of the War Eagle.”
Tim: “I just wanted to call and tell you I was fine and I’ll be home in about an hour. Gotta go.”
About an hour (or so) later, Tim arrived home. He obviously had been wet at some point so I inquire as to why his phone was not secure inside a dry bag. I also inquire as to why he didn’t leave a note about where he had gone fishing ‘just in case something happened’. (I know! I’m such a nag.)
Tim: (after telling me the reason he didn’t leave a note was because he thought he would make it home before I would.) “The front end of the canoe went up on a log and the current was pushing against the back of the canoe so hard that the water started rushing up and into the boat.
Me: “YOU SUNK THE CANOE?!”
Tim: “Yes. In about chest deep water.” (He’s a little over 6 foot tall.)
Now, our canoe is a big canoe capable of holding three adults and up to 1200 pounds. And, he sunk it. To the bottom of the river. Which means he had to swim every piece of equipment to shore and then drag the boat (under water) to shallow water (alone) where he could bail the water out. I’m thinking – ‘he’s 52 years old and doesn’t work out regularly and, and, and, and……’ . Every possible scenario runs through my head. I’m angry and upset, but all he saw was ‘angry’.
Tim: “I’m fine. I don’t know why you worry so much.”
Me: “You could still be out there. No phone. No help. Dead. Whatever. And, I worry too much. And the kicker is – I wouldn’t have a clue where to look for you because you didn’t leave a note for me to tell the authorities where to look for you if it came down to that. Nice.”
Tim: “Okay. I’m sorry and I’m sorry I lost my phone.” (Not the first time. Much like his Keys.)
He did manage to recover the canoe and his fishing equipment. Thank goodness I had the digital camera with me.
Wednesday afternoon – my cell phone rings. It is Tim.
Tim: “Hey. What are you doing?” (He had the afternoon off.)
Me: “Working. Where are you?” (I ask because I can tell he is outside and I hear boats.)
Tim: “I’m on the lake. The water is really warm.”
Me: “You’re IN THE WATER? Holding the brand new cell phone I just purchased for you?”
Tim: “No. I’m in the kayak.”
Me: “Kayak? Where did you rent a kayak?”
Tim: “I didn’t. I bought it.”
Ba-dum-dum (comedic drum roll)! No note I bet. And, the new phone wasn’t in the dry bag either.
Good Gravy! Welcome to my life.