OK… with all of the weather challenges, newbie mistakes, budget constraints, etc…. One might read this and wonder if that is true. But seriously….. no joke…. Literally…. Someone put a HEX on my boat! Last night CW and I went out to the garage to start drilling holes in the transom and this is what I found hanging out in the flotation foam of the bow.
Being that I live not a quarter mile from the banks of the Ohio River I suppose this is no grand shock but it still made me smile…. Even though it might technically be a Hex (assuming my absolutely crappy entomology skills identifying this bug correctly as a Hexagenia Limbata) I will instead consider it a good omen and a harbinger of things to come.
Now if only I can finish this boat before the first snow. Ughhhh!
So building a boat is not as hard as it looks….. However, building a boat is more time consuming that it looks! I thought for sure I could get her done 3 weeks ago. Ummmmm… NO. I still have a good two weeks of solid work to go and that is being optimistic. I have also spent about twice what I originally thought I would. Some of this can be chalked up to total rookie status mistakes. Some of it is allowing myself to stray from my budget for things that I really wanted (maybe not needed) to have in the boat. The rest of it is truly a story of how a bunch of little things can add up to a lot.
So, do you have any regrets you ask? Heck No! I could not be any more pumped about how she is turning out. My only real regret is waiting this long to do this. The really fantastic part of the experience that CW and I have shared so far is truly crafting her to be exactly what we wanted her to be and nothing that we didn’t. That is hard to get from a stock boat off the lot. The pride of craftsmanship is much the same as catching a fish on a fly you tied or designed but in a much larger scale. If you have ever thought about building a canoe, jon boat, drift boat, skiff, etc…. The only thing I can tell you is GO DO IT!
I will keep you all posted as things move along. We will be flipping her this week so things should start to look pretty different.
Tight Lines and Loose Pants,
So the last couple weeks were a bit crazy. My father was taken in for an unexpected triple bypass surgery. There was no massive heart attack, no stroke, no drama. Just the worry of watching your father face the fact that at 70 plus, certain parts need some repair work. I am not a tremendous sky is falling worry kind of person by nature but I’d be a liar if the thoughts of my father laying there with his chest cut open as they used veins harvested from his leg to fix his heart didn’t scare me.
My brother and I both made arrangements to go down and stay with him for a few days to help out. My dad called me a few days before my departure and tells me that he has arranged for his friend Barry to take me out Bass fishing for a few hours on Sunday morning. At first I argued a bit but he was firm about having already arranged the plans. Perhaps I could have argued harder but I could tell it made him as happy as it made me to be on the water.
I am sure it bothered him not to be able to be there…. truthfully it bothered me. Fishing was the glue that held my father and I together through many years where we didn’t see eye to eye on much else. As Barry and I walked the shoreline of multiple Boca Raton water hazards my mind wandered through many of the fishing adventures that my father and I had been on through the years. Hail storms in the middle of Raystown Lake…. Busting bronze and pike in the Georgian Bay….. Watching my bobber disappear as my dad helped me get the tiny hook out of the 100th bluegill we caught on Lake Arthur.
My trip down amnesia lane was rudely interrupted as my black wooly bugger came tight and the dance was on. It was far from the largest bass we have ever pulled out of these waters but it put a smile on my face. I am not much of a religious guy but I found myself giving a nod to the fish gods for the gift and a nod to the man upstairs for the gift of time with my dad.
Dad, get well… get strong…. and keep fishing. You wouldn’t want your kid to show you up with a fly rod next time I am in Florida.
Tight Lines and Loose Pants,