He was my (at that time) husband’s boss but he was way more than a boss, they had a friendship.

Shortly after beginning to work together, their boss/employee relationship crossed over a line and they became great friends. 

I think Chuck was kind of a father figure for husband number one (H-1).

He was an extremely nice man and I think he’d have done most anything for H-1 and H-1 for him.  

For sure it was mutual.

Chuck had a boat and from what H-1 said, he rarely used it.

We, on the other hand had a small boat and had great times in that thing but, gee Chuck had a much nicer and bigger boat and he never took it out.

The Detroit River was only minutes from our home and every week-end it wasn’t raining, we were out in our little boat.

We picnicked on it, pulled the kids on skis and lots of partying.

Perfect sized for a few adults and a cooler full of drinks.

Some of our most fun times were hooking up at a gathering-place called Crystal Bay where the boats met, tied up and it was boatville; eating, drinking, laughing, talking, dancing and whatever else til you decided to go home. 

70’s music blared, wonderful smells drifted in the air and it was all about happy people havin’ fun. 

I’ll bet lots of my back-home, downriver friends did the same thing, we all lived so close to the water.

I got the great idea one day that husband should ask Chuck if we could use his boat for the upcoming hot, humid week-end.

I mean, he never used it, right?

This husband never EVER said yes to anything the first time so, I expected he’d give me his usual look and a kinda disgusted NO. 

But, something made him think about it and before the week was over we were gonna be using Chuck’s boat that week-end.  

Our neighbors who were our favorite two people to party with, were gonna spend the day with us. 

It would be the four of us along with their daughter and my twins. 

The three little gals were about nine or ten years old and BFF’s.

Early that morning, the two cars headed down to the docks where Chuck’s boat was harbored in a slip. 

Excitedly we loaded the picnic baskets, coolers, ice buckets and then the seven of us happily hopped aboard and we were off for a day of boating around the River in Chuck’s big boat. 

All day we cruised up and down the water with the hot sun shining down on us and kisses from the waves keeping us cool.  

We stopped for a while and picnicked. 

Two of the little ones hopped in the water to swim and cool off. 

My youngest twin had a cast on her broken arm. 

She carefully walked in more shallow water keeping her arm held high and dry.

The entire day went off without a hitch.  

We did a little speeding and a lot of just cruisin’, takin’ it all in.  

Life was good!

The day passed and eventually we were all ready for land.

But oh what the heck, one more fast spin before we called the day done and THAT’S when it happened, right then and there….a horrid, loud thud, the boat kinda reared up just a bit in the front and in that moment, the motor stopped and we were kinda slowly rockin’ back and forth. 

It was dead silent in that boat other than the swish of the waves.

I can still hear that quiet.

Seven frozen-in-their-spot people with huge frightened eyes were barely breathing.

There was a big, long telephone pole sticking out from underneath the front of the boat.  

We’d hit a telephone pole…..A TELEPHONE POLE!

It had been submerged just enough not to see, a friggin’ telephone pole!

After we all took our first breath and looked around, we realized we were kinda sinking.  

This was the seventies, greatest music ever but no cell phones yet and we had a leak.

We had three little ones with us and one of them was in a full arm cast.

My brain was thinkin’ how am I gonna swim with my two little ones and one of them  in a cast?

Really, we were in no immediate danger.  

I knew we weren’t gonna drown but still how was I gonna swim with the cast kid?

Lucky for us it was the River where there’s always lots of people around.

In just moments, our boat was surrounded with fellow boaters wanting to help.  

A speedboat hit-in high and sped away and before we sunk, a tow-boat arrived, hooked us up and pulled us to the dock.  

Here’s where history is made.  

The moment we were all off of the boat and standing safe on the dock, I opened the cooler, pulled out a beer, twisted off the top and in it went bottom up!  

Now, that may sound like no big deal and maybe exactly what you’d do except, I’d never had a beer in my life, NEVER!

Beer was my enemy.

I blamed beer for the “childhood” I’d had. 

I hated beer, wanted to never drink it, (but that’s another story.)

However, that day on the dock, it was all history, down it went. 

One big chug-a-lug and I had my first AND LAST beer.

OK, so now we’re on the dock and in shock looking at Chuck’s boat.

Catholic guilt was about to kill me…..it had been my big idea.

My poor husband was going to have to face his boss and tell him that we sunk his boat.

His boat!

We sunk it!!

Think about that one.  It was horrible.

Quietly we drove home. 

I couldn’t even imagine what was going through my husbands mind.

It really was like a nightmare.

After we were dropped off home, he went on to Chuck’s house.  

Even thinking about it now, all these years later brings back those horrid feelings.

We took full financial responsibility; how much it was gonna cost and how we were gonna pay for it we had no idea but we knew it was on us and we’d do it.

But, it never came down to money or replacing.  

Something very strange happened next.

The boat was being looked at for repair when it was found that the serial and other pertinent numbers had been removed.  

The boat had no identification.

This prompted some sort of investigation and the next thing that happened was that Chuck’s boat was confiscated by legal authorities.

A few weeks later, it was found that Chuck’s boat came from Florida where there was a black-market-boat-ring going on.  

People’s boats were being stolen, identification removed and then the boats were sold at a reduced price.

Chuck was questioned and found to be innocent of knowing the history of his boat.

I don’t know why but Chuck just wiped the slate clean of any money owed. 

He didn’t want us to pay for the boat or any involved costs.

Did he like H-1 THAT much?  

I don’t know. 

What DO I know?

That incident is burned on my brain, branded, tatooed.

Since then, I have never nor will I ever borrow anything that I can’t pay for right then in there with my check-book which really means pretty much if it’s over a couple hundred dollars…..I’m not borrowing it.  

And everytime I see a boat that kinda resembles Chuck’s boat, I get a woosy feeling inside of me and the instant replay in my brain takes me back to the sinking boat, the broken arm and the beer!