Home > Trip Reports

An Evening on the Island

By Pat Harbine

Long, long ago when I was in high school, my brother and I arrived home to find my mother upset at us. The boat which had been high on the river bank was gone! It had not been tied to the fence and the river had risen and floated it away. She knew how upset my father would be when he came home. He used words that he had learned as a sailor when he was angry and some would melt your ears! The boat was nearly new, one of the first aluminum rowboats made for and sold by Sears-Roebuck. It was the only way our neighbors across the river could get to town when their primitive dirt road was closed by mud or snow. They would signal across and we would go get them in the boat.

We needed to find it before it reached the dam downstream as a trip down the spillway would ruin it. We took my old car and set off to find it. We sighted it several miles downstream where the river was separated by islands. It was midway across the river blocked by a patch of ice but unreachable from the shore. The solution was obvious, we would borrow a boat and float down to it. The upstream neighbor was kind enough to lend us his boat but there was a problem! The boat had sat upright on a hillside all winter and the snowmelt had frozen into a large un-moveable chunk on one side. When the boat was launched it listed heavily to one side, but we were boatmen and we moved our weight to the high side and floated downstream. We drifted down the narrow cannel where our own boat was stranded just as it grew dark.

The month was March and we wore light coats because it had been a warm day. There was 50 or more feet of ice between the boats and open water downstream so we began to row upstream towing one boat behind. Alas, it is difficult rowing an unbalanced boat against the current and as the channel narrowed the long heavy oars contacted the surface of the ice on each side. The blades slipped helplessly over the surface of the ice as contact with the water was lost and we retreated to the downstream end of the channel against the ice. It was now very dark and we beat frantically on the ice with the oars on it's tough surface. We had to break a lead to the open water 50 feet away and we weren't making any progress. The wind had come up and the stars were out. We sweated in the darkness as we hammered small holes in the ice. The aluminum hull of the boat transferred the cold through the soles of our shoes and my brother (5 years younger) who had been sitting and inactive suddenly arose and walked across the ice to the island. I was astonished as I didn't think it would support us! A very desperate move but I soon joined him as my efforts became more futile. We huddled close behind a pile of drift wood that only broke the wind marginally and I found a book of matches in my pocket and attempted to ignite the wet wood but as soon as a flame showed promise it was doused by the cruel wind. My meager supply was soon exhausted.

We shivered as the 11pm freight passed and then the 3am freight, cars with their headlights ablaze zipped by across the river, very near but they couldn't see us!

My parents had recently lost my older brother to a hunter who mistook him for game, and now two more of us were in danger. It didn't seem fair to cause them this worry!

Finally, I saw a pair of headlights moving slowly along the highway and then in the moonlight we could see our Dad as he shouted across to us to stay where we were. Knowing someone knew where we were made the numbing cold more tolerable. Then, just as dawn was breaking we saw my dad, standing in the bow of a boat propelled by two husky Dutchmen. He had warm coats and blankets in his arms. His pose was similar to Washington's as he crossed the Delaware. He looked even better than Washington to us! We were soon home in our comfortable beds oblivious to the extent of worry we had caused with our poorly planned adventure.

At 10 am, later than I had ever been let sleep before, I was gently awakened to help my dad retrieve the two boats, with yet another borrowed one. The ice holding the boats was now just a thin barrier. As we worked to free the boats and tow them to safety I was amazed that not a single Sailor Word was spoken. Of course, I never use them myself!