Beautiful isn’t it?
In all honesty though, this is one sunrise that should have been a warning. Have you ever heard the old seaman’s saying:
Red sky at night, Sailor’s delight. Red sky in the morning, Sailors take warning.
See all that orange back there? Right, it was red for a few minutes prior.
And just where was my idiot self when that warning blazed across the eastern sky?
Well now, I sat in one of those places I always desire to be. Bobbing about in a one foot chop roughly six miles off shore on my most favorite lake- Lake St. Clair. And it is shallow, like average depth of fourteen feet shallow.
And when are talking about wind, that shallow water makes for some serious wave action.
Now it’s coming together isn’t it?
Folks, I have to admit that this particular sunrise had me spell bound. Those clouds rolled and swirled through vast shades of color in a way that left me helpless to do anything but stare.
“It’s gonna be a good day.”
That’s what I promised myself shortly after I snapped the above picture. And for the most part, it was awesome. Windy, but awesome.
The afternoon sun found me lounging casually at anchor, still miles from shore. The fishing had been fair all day, but not stellar so I had leaned back to watch the world go by.
Smack in the middle of a daydream, my internal warning system beeped. (It’s kinda like Spider-man’s sense of danger, but I don’t have his reflexes.)
I tossed a look to the west to see black, ominous clouds twisting and contorting the blue sky just before it swallowed it whole.
“That don’t look good,” I muttered. But I still didn’t feel threatened.
Too lazy to unprop my feet, I leaned as far as I could to hit a button for the weather station on my ship to shore radio. Three things happened in the instant my finger pushed the button. None of them good, and raw panic flooded me in a millisecond.
Now I’m not known to panic, so when I do, don’t stand around shrugging your shoulders and asking “What?”. Just run.
- The radio speaker blared out these words- ” seventy mile an hour winds, hail…”
- The tornado sirens screamed to life in the distance.
- A wall of torrential rain could be seen below them angry clouds.
My feet were already in motion by the time the speaker finished saying “hail”. I scrambled up to the bow, and yanked on the anchor rope as though my life depended on it. (Which it did!)
This was not the time to be careful, or clean off the anchor. With a thud I tossed my mud encased, weed covered anchor to the floor as I dove for the back of the boat.
I stood on the small deck next to the inboard motor and hurriedly drug my second anchor over the side. By this time the boat is bouncing wildly in three to four foot waves, and the monsoon could be seen chewing up the surface like one of my kids scarfing up a forbidden cookie.
The boat did what it knows, its bow turned into the waves. As I made my leap into the driver’s seat, the wind hit.
Ya all have seen those weather clips where the anchor man is leaned about forty five degrees as he shouts into the microphone thinking we can hear him, right?
That kind of wind. Vicious, snarling and deafening. Not to mention about twenty degrees colder and I wore only my swimsuit.
My fingers reached the key on the console even before my ass hit the chair. The motor roared to life like always, but that time I couldn’t hear it!
Didn’t much care at that moment though, cause I just knew it was running. Before I could slap the throttle wide open, a wall of water slammed over the nose.
The wave hand been two feet higher than the bow, making it about six foot tall. Never have seen waves that big before or since then on that lake, and I don’t want to!
Water and mud from the anchor flooded across the floor time and time again. All I could do was flip the switch for my bilge pumps and pray they could keep the water lower than the tops of my batteries.
Alright, so I’m long winded at times, how about you drop by tomorrow, and I’ll finish my tale?
Click that little follow button up there in the corner, just so you don’t miss it!
Good night all.