The End of an Era

It sat in the empty lot adjacent to the bait shop.  Nothing fancy, but in excellent shape and with plenty of good years left in its life.  The humble pontoon boat spoke to us.  Well, most of us anyway.

We’ve never had a new boat.  In the 29 years we’ve owned our modest cabin, our boats have matched the aura of this unassuming haven in the forest perched on a pristine lake.

The first was a 12′ row boat, which we proudly outfitted with a 1.5 hp motor.  We still own that boat.  We next became proud owners of a 16′ open boat with a steering wheel.  With 25 hp we could even pull lightweight water-skiers.  We called it the Silver Bomb, and it was Rich’s beloved fishing rig.  That was succeeded by the Green Boat. It was heavy and leaked below the floor, but it had cool seating up front and went fast when we upgraded to 50 hp.

In each of these boats we could bank and turn, roar across the lake.  As the boats grew in size we could twirl kids and grandkids on wild tube rides, entice water-skiers out of the wake.  We’d pile in wearing our bulky life jackets, holding wiggly little ones on our laps, keeping an eye out for those who insisted on leaning out over the edge of the boat.  We baited many hooks and caught fewer fish.  Three generations of memories were compiled in those motorboats.

But all that’s about to change.

In an age when pontoon boats dominate the boat lifts around the lake, the idea of having a safe platform for little ones and oodles of space for family boat rides was appealing.  And that simple tan and green used pontoon sitting on the pavement wearing a For Sale sign was the perfect solution.  Or so I thought. And so did the kids.  And grandkids.  “I don’t want a pontoon boat,” Rich stated firmly.  The patriarch had spoken.

I had to admit, I wondered if our age was showing.  If I was falling for something too tame.  But returning to our collective visions of family outings, I hardened my resolve. And we won him over.  Or at least got him to relent.

Rich and I took it out for its inaugural voyage.  When three loons surfaced and began fishing nearby, Rich’s camera came out and his shutter flew in rapid bursts as we drifted.  He even admitted the pontoon was a much more stable platform for photography.  Whew!

That simple pontoon now occupies our lift next to the dock.  It sits in readiness for our annual family and friends gathering over Labor Day.  In place of zooming and swishing, we’ll cruise and relax, drinks and snacks at the ready.  We’ll anchor and jump into the lake, exploring new swimming spots around the lake.  We think we can even give tame tube rides.

Not such bad tradeoffs, as we enter this new era.

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