The Stutz family, east side chapter, ventured out on our annual boating trip through the San Juan islands. This year we chartered a 43' Bayliner sedan which worked out much better then last years chartered aft cabin style which required two toddlers who had a hard time staying vertical to go either climb up stairs or down stairs any direction they wanted to go.
The only loss was three year old Ella's pink princess fishing pole when she accidentally dropped it on the Deer Harbor dock by the ramp leading up to the main pier. The pole took a quick bounce over the side into the dark green water with me quickly dropping down onto the dock surface chasing after it, thrusting my arm in to the water only to get a finger tip on the pole as it quickly descended into the murky depths. Ella's brother Aidan was very upset about it. Ella consoled Aidan letting him know that 'It's alright'. Aidan was so upset because he remembered my telling each of the kids that they needed to be very careful with their fishing poles and that if they dropped one into the water we were not going to replace it with a new one. (Aidan, during the previous summers boating trip, had dropped his first, brand new, blue and orange Scooby Doo fishing pole approximately 30 minutes after it was presented to him.)
After Aidan calmed down we discussed the fact that, while I did say we would not replace a fishing pole dropped into the water, he did get a second chance last year and that maybe we should afford Ella the same second chance. Aidan thought this was a good idea as he didn't want his little sister having to go the rest of the boating trip without a fishing pole.
The next day:
Being the dedicated father I am (or a foolish adult who still thinks he is in his early 20s) the next day noted that low tide was at 3:30pm – time to go look for the pole before spending $20+ on a new pole at the floating, dockside store shack with the 'We've got you and we know you have no other options' pricing model. After some time searching (the tide wasn’t all that low, still a +2.7), along with my kids and my own father('Papa' to his grand kids) I finally see what I think is the submerged pink princess fishing pole and decide the best course of action, other than leaving it there and spending the $20+ for a replacement, is to dive after it. After my swim shorts I went. I was on a mission to make my daughter happy - and save myself $20+.
My father, being the wiser of the two of us, had headed off to create a grappling hook with which he intended to lower and drag the bottom with in hopes of hooking the pole and bringing it to the surface while staying dry and warm all at the same time.
I return to a quickly gathering group of blue plate special, early cocktail hour enthusiasts who are waiting for me to freeze my backside off for their entertainment. Outfitted in my dark green, Hawaii print swim shorts, Tevas and my son Aidan's 4 year old sized light blue goggles which only fit one of my eyes at a time (I figured wearing Ella's pink goggles would have just been too much) I started to reconsider my course of action. As I was preparing to dip my toe in to test how frigid the water actually was, ignoring the comments from the growing peanut gallery gathering on the ramp above, a lady called from up the dock wondering if I would prefer to use a dive mask that she happened to have in a bag she was carrying. This seemed like a far better idea then the one eye'd goggle approach and the swap of aquatic optics was made. The downside to this exchange was that I was now a bit more committed to putting the graciously provided mask to use.
I slipped myself off the dock and into the 52 degree, thinly oil slicked water sporting the borrowed dive mask and, after taking a few seconds to regain control of my breathing and reminding myself how much Ella had enjoyed fishing with her pink princess fishing pole, ducked my head under and kicked towards the bottom. The bottom, it turns out, was a bit deeper then I had anticipated. I reached the spot on the all green/gray marina bottom where I thought I had seen the reel of the pink princess fishing pole.
Turns out, I was wrong. It wasn’t there. Not wanting to come up empty handed I quickly started looking left and right, looking for anything that wasn't green/gray and was more pinkish in nature. Out of the corner of my eye, about 5 feet away, something pink caught my oxygen starved attention. I quickly made my way over where I was able to grab the pink princess fishing pole and surface to a smattering of 'He must have a few screws loose' courtesy clapping provided by those who had received the proper entertainment value for their price of admission. Seeing I had surfaced with the pole rather then drowning the easily distracted crowd then moved on about their sleepy marina, summer vacation business and I returned the dive mask with thanks.
I then returned the pink princess fishing pole to Ella.
Ella didn't seem all that impressed.
Her Grandfather then returned with his wire coat hanger grappling hook setup ready to go.
