Boat Launching 101

It’s been too long since I’ve blogged about boats.

If you’ve been to a boat launch, you’ve experienced this. You’re probably on a nice relaxing and/or romantic walk at the beach. You notice people launching boats, so you rest on the pier and shamelessly watch people as the yell, curse and get drenched with oil-stained water. It’s people-watching at its finest.

To fully appreciate what I’m about to tell you, you must understand the flip side of the coin. That is, how to launch a boat. So here is “Boat Launching 101”:

 This is not my boat and I have no idea what the torpedo thing on the front is, 

but you get the idea.

1. Driver: back up boat trailer partially into water.

2. Assistant: get on tailgate and release safety latch. Crank winch handle counter clockwise until there is slack in the tether (which hooks the boat to the trailer).

3. Assistant: unhook boat from winch and hold onto it with the rope.

4. Driver: reverse truck deeper into the water. Stop suddenly so the boat will release off the trailer easier and launch into the water.

5. Driver: park for free somewhere. Cuz who wants to pay $15 per day to park?

Sounds easy enough, yes? You may think so, but I will not graduate you until you try it for yourself. Because launching boats is enough to cause a divorce (especially if you have a piece of crap trailer like ours was, which, is another story in itself). From choppy tides to rush hour dock conditions to heckling onlookers… it is a stressful situation in the best of times. Even though Colin and I are no strangers to launching boats, for some reason, the two of us together kinda suck at it. Especially at Rocky Point Park.

On this particular day, Colin and I were heading up with some friends to spend the weekend at an oceanfront cabin in the quiet wilderness.

Using your new found knowledge, pay close attention to see if you can notice the error in our launch.

Step 1: Colin backed the boat trailer into the water.

Step 2: Nancy got on the tailgate and released the safety latch. She cranked the winch handle counter clockwise until there is slack in the tether.

Step 4: Colin reversed truck deeper into the water and stopped suddenly so the boat will release off the trailer easier and launch into the water.

I’m going to pause there for a minute. Ok class, pop quiz. Did you notice the error?

DING DING DING! You got it!  We missed Step 3. That all-important Step 3.

UNHOOK BOAT FROM WINCH.

Here’s what happened after step 2.

As mentioned above, I was sitting on the tailgate. I don’t know how our communication failed so badly... but I hadn’t yet unhooked the boat when Colin reversed, slammed on the brakes and intended to send the boat barreling into the sea. The boat released quickly, taking with it the tether, which caused the winch to furiously spin! It didn’t spin for long though, because my leg was right under it. The winch handle made a half turn, and then pinned my leg to the tailgate!

All the weight of the boat (plus whatever G-force was involved) was focused an inch above my knee. I had to rely on Colin for this part of the story because I don't remember much due to the pain-induced stupor. Apparently I was screaming, and they had to pull the boat back on to the trailer to release it from my leg.

My leg started to swell and turn a resplendent shade of red instantly. I was helped to the front seat of the truck where I ripped off my pants. Right there on the boat launch. We took off in the truck right away towards… the hospital? A doctor? A corner store for ice? We didn’t quite know yet, but we left our poor friends at the dock holding onto our boat on a rope, wondering if or when we’d be back (and if I’d be missing a limb).

We opted for ice. When the swelling went down enough to put pants back on, we went back to the dock (after finding a free parking spot of course). Our friends were still patiently holding on to the boat-on-a-rope. We all got in and went on our weekend getaway. 

True, I couldn’t walk and was in pain for the whole weekend. And yes, my leg changed from various hues of red to purple, green and black, just like the sunsets we watched. But I figured the cold Ocean I’d be spending a lot of the weekend in would be therapeutic. And it was.

After the swelling went down (we’re talking at least a week later), I noticed that I had a dent in my leg.

To this day (a decade later) I still have that dent to remind me to UNHOOK THE BOAT FROM THE WINCH.

Don’t you just love it when someone else learns the hard lessons for you? 

You're welcome.