Chapter 4: High Water

We’ve been working to make the inverted cement boat into a usable pier. The stern is hard aground near shore of the river bank and has been secured to prevent the boat from sliding out into the current. Secured by cables attached to dead men, logs in trenches parallel with the river, buried after the cable is wrapped securely around them. We sealed the bow third of the boa and pumped it out so it floats. Beside the bow, we jetted in a piling, stacked sections of concrete culvert pipe, and filled it with concrete. The piling’s top is fourteen inches above the river’s current level. All we need is high water. When the piling is submerged, we’ll twist the bow over just enough so it settles on top the piling, and cable it there. That should stabilize the structure above the normal water level.

Once the cement hull is stable, dry, and secure, we can cut aa few doors and portholes in the sides and transom of the hull. Then it can be used as a pier. Eventually, a storm will cause the river to rise enough to meet our needs. We can wait.

Meanwhile, we are looking for free boats to haul away. A great many are available. We haven’t yet found another one that meets our criteria. Towable, nearby, repairable, livable, affordable. A free boat isn’t always affordable. They can end up costing a fortune before a usable result is achieved. Most aren’t affordable. We’re searching.

Casual relationships, one night stands suited me just fine until Dallas and Elaine got together. We refer to them as the love birds.

Dallas and Elaine’s relationship is causing us problems. All of us, not just Hog, envy them. Whether we are conscious of it or not, we three single dudes are seeking love. At least, a longer term relationship. Hog found a nice girl ahead of the rest of us. Maybe he was trying harder. Maybe, fate gave him a replacement for Elaine as a bit of justice. Probably, Hog got lucky. Donjohn gets lucky every winter. Finds a shackup for the cold months just when he need it. We figured he would get a girl first, before any of us. Maybe he’s being to picky. Maybe when it’s cold, he’s less picky. That’s my problem, I’m too fastidious and there’s no urgency. What’s the song, thev girls get prettier at closing time? Right this minute, off the top of my head, I could name three or four girls who would be delighted to join me in setting up house. Closing time isn’t imminent yet. Waiting for the right girl, or desperation to set in. Hope I don’t get desperate.

A hurricane passed by close enough, we had days of torrential rain. Not often are people grateful for hurricanes. This hurricane dumped a Gail right in my lap. That’s the name of the hurricane, hurricane Gail. Fate is pretty obvious at times. A young woman who lives and cruises on her sailboat was staying at the marina north of town. The same marina we got the cement hull from. When the hurricane center issued warnings predicting we might be in the path, she wisely left the marina and moved upriver, looking for a hurricane hole.

Ocean going boats are designed to survive storms at sea. The problem, when a bad storm hits port, boats break lose, lines part, anchors drag, and collisions occur. It’s colliding with docks, or crashing into other boats, or being rammed is the real hazard. Move away from everybody. Find a creek or sheltered cull-de-sac with plenty of sturdy trees to tie to. Stay by yourself, in a space with room for only one boat. A hurricane hole to ride it out in. Dallas loaned me his shack to use as shelter from the storm. He’s staying with Elaine and Cassie. Gail chose a spot directly across the river from me.

A hurricane and a girl both named Gail, and circumstances bring us together in an unlikely place, unusual for either of us to be? Seems pretty obvious it’s more than mere luck. Destiny is involved I say.

Gail’s boat broke loose in the strong storm winds, despite all the lines she tied to trees. She was blown across the river and rammed the bank just up current from the cement boat. I was outside in the storm and watched it happen. Why was I out there? We were prepared for high water with cables and come-alongs already rigged in place. I was cranking on a come-along to shift the bow over the top of that piling we installed. High water submerged the piling just as we expected. That was my purpose for staying in Dallas’ shack, not just a storm shelter, but to be available to position the bow of the cement boat over the piling, when conditions were right.

Lucky for Gail I was there and ready to catch her boat before it went down river with the current. She was trailing numerous lines I fished out of the water with a hook pole, and secured to various points on shore. I was able to get a come-along cable hooked on her bow fitting. And winched her in snug firmly in the mud. Re-floating a small boat the size of hers, about twenty seven feet length, isn’t a major concern. Fortunately, we had a lull as the eye passed. The storm did not pass over us, passed by off shore, off the coast, but as the center passed, the wind reversed direction. Before reversing, there was about ten minutes of fitful light breeze. Then the storm resumed it’s fury. In that lull, Gail abandoned ship, jumped ashore, and helped me secure her boat better, to her satisfaction. We ducked indoors inside the shack, just as the wind began to roar again.