Chapter 17

We caught the City of Saginaw car ferry in time to be sitting at the Ludington Ferry dock to meet Lucy Lou and Daddy as they waited for the ferry drivers to unload the Continental off the Spartan.

The Spartan and the Badger were two years old in 1955 and very 'spiff.'

One way walk on, Ludington to Milwaukee cost four dollars. A walk on round trip to Milwaukee and back was 6 bucks, bikes were free and a car was $25 one way including the passengers. A stateroom was $14 round trip. If you hated the drive around Chicago the Ferry was the way to go.

Meals were offered and it was cooked per order. The cooks in the kitchen and the waiters in the dining room were all long time employees of the C&O railroad ... positions on the ferries were posh posts and much sought after.

The trip back across the Lake was spent discussing bicycles with a Biking Club from Boston. They were on the return leg of a Boston to San Francisco cross country adventure. The legs on those guys ... and girls.

We, on this trip anyway, were the youngest 'children' on board and curiosity struck after we had admired the bicyclists tickets for speeding in Montana.

"On the way to, or from, Butte there is this hill..." the stories all started with that. Eight miles long and steep enough for truck runoffs every mile, Montana posts troopers strictly for speeders. The hill has a sixty-five mph limit ... very enforced. Each and every ticket issued to the bicyclists was for at least 75.

"Didn't you pay the fine?"

"Heck no ... can't beat a speeding ticket for proof."

And someone else said, "Except for Annie's broken leg."

Everybody laughed and someone asked what we were doing.

Grace said, "Buying a boat."

That brought up more questions and eventually, the Saga of the Rhodes 77 was told in living color.

"But you're buying another boat?" (Pick any one of a dozen variations of that question and attribute it to any one of a dozen listeners and you have it.)

"The Rhodes is too big ... we'll probably sell it to our dad," Grace said.

"Your boat? Not your dads boat?" (Choose your own speaker for that question. Add any level of scoff you care to add.)

"Yeah ... trust fund babies. We can't touch the principal but the interest comes as our weekly allowance," I said that. Then I said, "Three thousand, four hundred fifty-eight dollars and 17 cents ... each ... a week. Combined it is Three hundred fifty-eight thousand, six hundred forty-eight dollars and fifty-eight cents a year. We are well into our second year ... we don't spend a lot of money ... hell, I was happy with the fifty cents a week I got for taking out the garbage. I'm still taking out the garbage ... but daddy stopped paying me for it." I pouted. Everybody laughed

One of our listeners, a rather well dressed older man, asked, "You must be the Austin Twins?"

We owned up to it.

"I'm Niels Sorensen." He offered.

I shook, "David Austin, pleased to meet you, Mr. Sorensen. May I present my sister?"

He nodded but looked rather surprised.