Grandpa, uncles, cousins, about a dozen family members busied themselves loading a string of 12' aluminum V-bottoms slapping against the floating wooden pier. Strong cold winds with spitting snow made others question the sanity of leaving our cabin but there were no doubts in my mind. This was my first time in Canada, I was 15 and nothing would stop me from being a part of the stories I had only been told of. I sat waiting in the boat tied furthest from shore, Dad was late.
An eternity passed before we were on our way, Dad was excited too. He directed our way out, map in one hand and half spilt coffee cup the other. It was the beginning to an entire day. His hand never left the map, mine never the throttle. Our fishing that day was slow and tedious, Canada shouldn't have been that difficult. Dusk was upon us and we were somewhere between lost and turned around before crossing under the first of three low bridges telling our way back to dock. Dad jumped at the sudden noise, he never saw the bridge coming, always facing me and keeping himself warm while I took the elements head on. He jumped again at the second bridge, it was then a plan dawned on me. I fought back grins as it detailed in my head, this was too good to tip Dad off.
Bridge number three was our worst. A closed draw on the channel side made clearance the tightest yet. I kept our craft pointed straight at full tilt and inches before passing under I faked a quick lunge downward while yelling my best near death "LOOK OUT!!!!!" My amazingly reactive Father hit the bait like a starving school of stripers. In the moment it took me to regain the throttle he left his hat in mid-air, sent the coffee cup sailing and emptied an always open tackle box on his way to cover. He finished at the boat's bottom curled up tight with hands laced overhead. The motor's whine covered my hysterical laughter as he stayed protected amongst fish slime and treble hooks. I was having a tough time breathing and almost crying by the time he peaked up to see me. Oh, did the cursing begin!! First me, the bridge, the boat, then me some more until finally he sat forward and shot a finger towards camp. To this day he has never again turned his back with me at the helm :)
