Last year, I shared the post Hood Canal WA Deadliest Catch, another installment of my never-ending series ‘Stupid Human Boat Tricks‘ by sharing the near-death escapades I experienced with my Mom out on the Hood Canal. I was recently reminded by one of my readers that I neglected to finish the story, hence Part Deux.Waterfront-homes-on-Hood-Canal-WA

And so, the saga continues….

When last we left our hero, he was perilously close to the brink of an icy grave….

Even in the late Summer, the waters of the Hood Canal are surprisingly cold. And in this instance, bone-chilling cold! Perhaps it’s because there’s still run-off from snow that’s melting on the Olympic Mountains? Or that the Hood Canal is over 500 feet deep in some areas, and is part of the Puget Sound waterways, leading to the Pacific Ocean?

Regardless, there I was, treading water for what seemed like an eternity, faithfully holding onto my lost crab pot buoy, patiently awaiting my Mom’s rescue.

I forced my head above the waves and scanned the surface for my trusted C-Dory. Off on the horizon, I could see my Mother hitting the 9hp kicker with a wooden oar.

Gee, that was a comforting sight! Obviously, she hadn’t yet figured out how to operate the motor or vary the rate of speed (as you may recall from my previous installment, my Mom’s first attempt at saving me ended rather abruptly as she passed me at full throttle!).

It was late afternoon by this time, with the water becoming increasingly choppy. The tide was coming in too, and rather rapidly at that. I held on relentlessly to my crab pot buoy and the $150 investment it represented, stubbornly refusing to let go. About every third wave or so, the tension on the submerged buoy & crab line would pull my head underwater.

As my head resurfaced, I looked up just in time to see the bow of my C-Dory heading straight for me! I was on a collison course with my own boat!


I could hear my Mom yelling and cursing as she continued in her valiant attempts to whack the kicker motor into obedience.

Just before the final moment of impact, I heard the Johnson Kicker die, and the trusty C-Dory finally slowed. I reached up, grabbed the bowline eyelet, and straddled the bow with my legs.

I felt like a lamprey, contently attached to a large fish. The boat was still moving, but the drag on my clutched crab line was bringing us to a halt.

However, I guess my Mom was still pretty wigged out though. For I soon heard a blood-curdling scream up above me.

“I’ve killed my son, I’ve killed my son!” she cried out!

I was satisfied just to remain still and quiet from my perch there on the bow, but I couldn’t allow my Mom to think that she had caused my early demise. So I yelled up to her that I was okay, and worked my way around the side of the boat, back to the transom, where I handed her the crab buoy and line intact.

After I climbed back in, we pulled up the pot. I can’t recall if there were any keepers. I don’t think it really mattered much.

As we made our way back to Miami Beach, I think we were both just happy to be alive!

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Rich Jacobson is a licensed real estate professional with Keller Williams West Sound providing knowledgeable empowerment and relentless representation for his clients of residential properties and vacant land throughout all of Kitsap County WA and portions of Pierce, Mason, and Jefferson Counties. You can also find him at KitsapLife.comSOUNDBITEBLOG,ActiveRainEveryday CKFacebookTwitter, or e-mail: