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WORST DAY ON THE LAKE. Long read

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mike52

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Mt Juliet Tn
So as the title says...MY WORST DAY ON THE LAKE..Was fishing the PBF (local bass trail in mid Tn) around 1998/99 on Barkley Lake out of the Ky state park at Cadis Ky. Friend told me about a spot that we both fished about 30 miles up river that was holding bass around 900am when they started pulling water. Practice day was Friday so Thursday I had some new tires put on trailer. I got to the State Park about 10/10:30 .Reserved a slip for the night and went out fishing. Went to spot upriver about 20 miles caught a few fish then left( was back-up for the other spot ) On way back to marina, there was a large thunderstorm coming my way. Thought I could outrun it to the slip, BUT NO it caught me about 2 miles short. Remembered a slough that a had a covered pier and headed for it .There was a Boat in slip but it had an overhang that I could put my boat 90 degrees to dock. Got covered up from most if the storm while sitting on boat with feet on dock and facing away from river. Been there about 45 min to an hour when suddenly I was in the water. While I was facing away from the river, a barge can up river, pushing good 3 ft wake, After the shock of being in the water I climbed up the outboard to inside of boat. No injuries, but watch shot, billfold waterlogged. made it back to marina ,ate a small supper and went to sleep.I had a van at the time that had a fold-down couch to sleep on. Got up Tournament day and was assigned a start number. Started out of creek that was the starting area ,turned south and was going good , untill I got the the bridge across the river, Fog was so thick that I could not see the front of the boat ,shut down to fast idle and decided to see if I could find bank so I could fish till fog lifted. Throwed a buzz bait and acught 3 keepers right off . then went around the bend (THIS WAS DEVILS ELBOW FOR THOSE THAT KNOW THE LAKE) fished a rock pile and caught good keeper.So with 4 keepers and the fog lifted I decided to go to the HoneyHole. Started the motor and it sounded like there was a small man with a ball peen hammer inside trying to get out.The boat would come up and run ok but I wasn't going to go 20/thirty mile away, so I make it back to the creek that marina was in and tied to fish, but my mind was not in it. So decided to put boat on trailer ,weight fish and go home. Got to my van and noticed that there was a flat on trailer tire(new tire) so assume that someone was sitting on trailer finder and broke off valve stem. So my trailer and all the rest of the boaters trailers were backed upon the sidewalk, so I thought I would pull trailer off the sidewalk and change tire. Well some SOB had parked so close to my van that I could not get in the drivers door, so after saying a few bad words about the drivers mother I went in by the silding door on side I pulled the trailer off to where I could put spare on. Broke lug nuts loose and jacked trailer up, removed tire. You know the type of spare tire locks that are two piece and spin around to tighten? Well they had become cross treaded and would not spin off. After many swings of the tire tool the lock came off with the spare falling to the ground which caused the jack to fall from under the trailer. Now this occurred in August and the temps were high. With sweat soaked shirt/hair I got the van and boat coming toward home. Thankfully I had no more problems on the way home, if I would have had problems the boat would have been sitting on side of the Interstate. BTW I was 4 ozs out of the money!!! Turned out that the flywheel had worked loose and causing all the noise
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That's a doozy!

Mine is strangely similar.

Would have been 2010. Tuesday night tournament. Fishing partner got held up in traffic and was 20 mins late, so couldn't blast off with everyone else and had to solo fish around the launch dock. He got there and we took off. First two spots were occupied so made a longer run up the lake. Only a 3 hour tournament so can't go too far at this point. Up on plane cruising and the lower unit lets go (for the 3rd time that season). Start trolling back with certainty we aren't going to make it on just the trolling motor. After about an hour on high a cloud of smoke came bubbling out of the water and the trolling motor had fried. Had to get towed to the closest ramp and have a friend come pick up my partner to go get my truck. On the way home had a blowout on the trailer and couldn't get the trailer jacked up, had to get the trailer put on a rollback. Got home after midnight and had to pour concrete at 5am. Fixed everything and sold the boat, never put it back in the water myself and haven't fished a single tournament since and haven't missed it one bit. Absolutely burnt me out in one night.
 
I'll tell 2 quick ones.

1. Was my uncle and cousin when he was about 7 or 8. They'd bought a 12' flat bottom with just a trolling motor. Was out on the lake fishing and a storm came up and with the big waves they couldn't do anything. The boat started taking on water and they managed to get to the nearest bank of an island. While on the bank, a tree fell and dead centered their boat. This is the early 90s. Nobody has a cell phone. They were stuck on that island until the next day and had to rough it in wet clothes. Luckily it was summer and people were on the lake the next day. They flagged somebody down that rescued them. To this day, neither one will go on a boat or camping.

2. I was deer hunting Iron Hill island. Shot a doe. Went to get my boat from the slough I had beached and tied it off at. And boat was gone. I thought I had got turned around and had came to the wrong slough. Nope. Right slough. No boat. I think somebody untied it to be honest. I had heard another boat motor in to the slough I had my boat...at any rate...I last saw my boat floating off about 300 yards out from the bank. I didn't have a cell phone. Went to get my hunting pack for emergency supplies as it looked like I was staying on the island til somebody figured out I was running way behind. Open the pack and my wife had stuffed her phone in there...she had one and I did not. Was reluctant to get one. Then had to call someone to come get me. I was on the island until about 3 in the morning. I've had a phone ever since.
 
DoubleRidge said:
I mean what are the odds? She had discernment. What a blessing. The older I get the less I believe in coincidence. Running through life so fast its easy to miss blessings....cool story, thanks for sharing.
Click to expand...
She had been after me for a while trying to get me to get a phone. I was kinda like Sheriff Longmire from the show when it came to cell phones. She is a worry wart and didn't like me going hunting at the island by myself. So she'd been trying to get me to take her phone "just in case". I didn't want it and she snuck it in my pack. I didn't have any ground to stand on after that for not getting a phone. That's been nearly 20 years ago now and she still won't let me forget it 😆
 
Crow Terminator said:
She had been after me for a while trying to get me to get a phone. I was kinda like Sheriff Longmire from the show when it came to cell phones. She is a worry wart and didn't like me going hunting at the island by myself. So she'd been trying to get me to take her phone "just in case". I didn't want it and she snuck it in my pack. I didn't have any ground to stand on after that for not getting a phone. That's been nearly 20 years ago now and she still won't let me forget it 😆
Click to expand...
A good wife is hard to beat..
Congratulations
 
Not my worst day fishing but probably my worst day boating. Long read... I wrote this story originally in 2009.

WE SHOULD HAVE DIED

It was December 1971. I was a Senior at Brainerd High School (in Chattanooga)... although I didn't make a habit out of attending class very much during duck season.

Me and a duck hunting friend (who's identity I shall protect here), thought we were hot stuff. We had graduated from a canoe into a 10-foot jon boat outfitted with a rip-roaring 6 horsepower outboard. We felt as if our duck hunting horizons had broadened tenfold.

My friend's brother came to town for a visit. We wanted to give him a taste of Chickamauga Lake waterfowling. It was 20 degrees and the shoreline was frozen solid, allowing us to drive to the water's edge and slide our mega-vessel out of the pickup truck bed and directly into the water.

Two dozen decoys, shotgun shells, miscellaneous gear, three shotguns and three guys, of course wearing waders, piled into the 10-footer. Me and my friend's brother hunkered on the middle seat side-by-side, facing backward toward my friend running the motor. I don't think we had ever heard of running lights so we set off out of the slough and toward the middle of the lake in total darkness.

"Hey, somebody shine a flashlight up front," said my friend. "Something feels funny."

I flipped on my flashlight and pointed it at the front of the boat, all of about 3 feet away. Instantly the light illuminated water pouring across the bow.

My friend could see it and responded by twisting the throttle hard in hopes of raising the bow. A 6-horsepower motor doesn't generate too much lift however, and it was already too late. The 10-foot jon boat literally submarined into the lake.

I was a nimble little sucker back then and only wearing hip waders, I just sort of scrambled over the boat as it went under and flipped upside down. I ended up perched atop the now upside down jon boat.

My friend and his brother both wore chest waders. I'm not sure about his brother, but it was widely known that my friend swam like a rock. I immediately set about scanning the water to see who I might have to try and save first.

They both started out treading water reasonably well, but I could see that neither of them had a tremendous amount of freeboard. Knowing my friend could barely swim a lick, I watched him while searching for a paddle, a cushion or anything I could throw his way.

It was about that time when his brother yelled, "Hey, just stand up."

Sure enough, although we had motored a few hundred yards out the slough, the winter water levels meant we were still in just over five feet of water. Both my friend and his brother could touch bottom and by tilting their heads back, barely keep their noses out of the water.

About that time I remembered the air temperature was 20 degrees. I slid off the boat into the water, got to shore and headed for the truck to crank up the heater.

After a few minutes my friends failed to arrive at the truck. I drove down the shoreline so the headlights could shine across the water and spotted my friends still wading chin deep. Thinking they had gone hypothermic, I hopped and ran back to them. Seeing two shotguns laying on dry ground, I realized, they were trying to find all our guns. One single decoy unwrapped and anchored itself exactly where the boat rolled over.

"Here it is," I heard my friend say. They had succeeded in recovering all three of our guns.

This was 53 years ago, but our friends still tease us all about "The Great Green Submarine."

But the point of this story is that, by all rights, we should have died.

Had our wimpy, grossly overloaded little vessel managed to motor another 100 yards out into Chickamauga Lake before capsizing, chances are you would have read about us in the newspaper the next day.

We were stupid... just plain, unadulterated dumb bunnies who probably should have been candidates for that year's Darwin Award.

But it wasn't our time.
 

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