My former boat, Cecelia, is now a Texan. Scott is her owner and I shouldn't have anything to do with her...except I do. Scott invited me to go fishing with him today and it was his first shake down of his boat. Cecelia, true to her nature, found ways to "break his heart and shake his confidence".
We left this morning before sunrise and the temperature was 58 degrees. Scott picked me up and we headed north to the Guadalupe River. The river passes under I35 at New Braunfels and this is where we have put in before. Some 15 years or more ago the dam in New Braunfels failed and Lake McQeeny became the shallow riverbed of the Guadalupe. This is where we began to kayak several years ago. Motor boats couldn't float on the shallow river.
The dam was repaired last year and now there is so much boat traffic (as in water skiers and big bass boats) that its dangerous to kayak. As we drove up the interstate I started asking Scott questions about his preparation for the trip. There are so many thigs to prepare a boat before going out it is easy to miss some. He actually had done pretty well except he hadn't check the 2 cycle oil or charged the batteries.
We launched off the ramp where we have launched kayaks, but there are no docks to tie to. Cecelia sensed these items as places to start mischief. I was in the boat to back away from the ramp...except Cecelia wouldn't start. The ignition key just clicked. Nothing more. So Cecelia floated back since she wasn't tied to anything. We drifted back into the river current and slowly started going down stream.
Fortunately I knew what to do. (Cecelia has taught me lessons the hard way). I dug through the rod locker for the paddle I keep on the bottom of the rod locker.. unfortunately I had placed many extra fishing rods in there when we left Bloomington because I had many more than I would ever use. Scott was helpless on the ramp, but he did follow me downstream. I was fortunate to paddle close to two large trees and Scott told me to throw him a rope. He wrapped the rope around the tree while I tried to figure out why she wouldn't even turn over. Scott suggested the battery might be dead, even though the power lift and depth finder were working, although the depth finder kept shutting off. I checked the battery gauge and it was indeed dead.
So although Cecelia tried to ruin our day, I remembered something I tried the first time Robert and I went out on Lake Bloomington back in 2003. The trolling motor battery was charged. I took the key to open the storage locker and dug out two battery cables. After fighting with the nuts holding the starting motor to its's battery using a channel lock, I was able to connect the trolling motor battery to the starting motor battery in series. Cecelia started after pumping the fuel bulb. Scott got in as I pulled up to the ramp and we were on the way.
Ha, take that Cecelia!...except she wasn't done.
Scott put Cecelia in gear and we slowly traveled through the no wake zone. We encountered some kayaks and he was careful to avoid swamping them as we drove along. Finally we reached a deeper part of the river and Scott opened her up. Cecelia had not run that fast for more than 15 years.
The battery meters for both batteries read completely full as the gas motor put charge through the connection. Still I was concerned we would not be able to restart if we stopped the gas motor so decided to not use the trolling motor when we stopped to fish. Cecelia saw this as an opportunity.
A couple of miles down river we stopped to fish, but kept the gas motor on idle. During this time Scott hooked a nice bass.
I did note that the cowling was very hot. Scott thought she might have over heated. After several tries at restarting we decided to wait her out. Since we had plenty of battery charge, I maneuvered around with the trolling motor. I caught a bass but couldn't get it in the boat.
As the Texas sun got higher in the sky, we peeled off layers. By the time we decided to restart Cecelia the temperature was in the upper 70's on its way to 90.
Fortunately we finished fishing and restarted the old girl and we flew up the river (slowing down for kayaks). We reloaded Cecelia on the trailer and thought we had a successful trip....except she decided to call the highway patrol to turn I 35 into a parking lot as they blocked two lanes to clear a 4 car accident. Maybe it wasn't Cecelia's mischief, but it certainly is in character. A one hour trip home turned into two hours.
Scott and I got home in time to turn around and attend the last high school football game for Emily's high school. The team is so bad that another bad team scored 20 points on them by half time. It's November 8, but it's Texas, so the day that started at 58 almost reached 90 by the half.
