Tell us something about you that sounds FAKE

The friendliest place on the web for anyone who enjoys boating.
If you have answers, please help by responding to the unanswered posts.
I was 20, had just bought a 4x5 field camera, and me & a hundred other guys were let go from the local sawmill. I went on UIC (unemployment insurance) and spent the next couple months diving into the deep end of the Zone System of exposure and development for B&W film. I spent hours pouring over the books and days out photographing in the woods.

One day, hiking through the mature temperate rain forest we have here, I suddenly became aware of...everything...all light, all movement, all colours, all of the minuscule details making up the entirety of the forest. It was a gift, lasted about half an hour, and has never happened again.

A somewhat similar thing happened to me the first time I went to art school in Vancouver. It was my first time living in a city, and I didn't adjust very well at first. There was an Emily Carr exhibit at the Vancouver Art Gallery, so I went and really connected with her work done along BC's coast.

When I came to her painting, The Red Cedar, I stopped and fell into the painting. The crowds faded away until it was just the painting and me. I think it lasted about 10 minutes, but there's no way I can be sure.

Wifey B: Beautiful stories. They say no one sees the world like photographers can. I love when a work of art and I have a connection. I'm not an expert, I can't tell you what makes it great, but I can feel it. :)
 
For Sydney University Commemoration Week, the venerable "South Steyne" ferry, a 300ft steamer converted from coal to oil which motored from the UK to Australia under it`s own steam via the Suez canal,was hired for an evening cruise. As a consequence of the heady combination of alcohol, testosterone and youth, a riot onboard ensued including setting off the fire extinguisher sprinklers. After several stern warnings, the Captain elected to return to the Circular Quay wharf, where we were met by a large contingent of Police and rapidly disembarked, slipping away into the night, and another pub. To my eternal embarrassment,the event figures with photos in the book, A History of Sydney Manly Ferries, a treasured volume signed by the author, in my collection.
800px-Sydney_Ferry_SOUTH_STEYNE_30_Dec_1970.jpg
 
Last edited:
Wifey B: Nope....:nonono::nonono::nonono: :censored::censored: Can't say it here. Then you'd want to see and that's not going to happen. :)
 
Back in 1981 I played drums in a rhythm section that backed a Manhattan Transfer inspired jazz quartet. We were invited to compete in a national talent search. No trophy but got to hang with Christopher Cross, Eddie Rabbit and Dinah Shore. I recall Dinah being such a gracious and genuine lady.
Growing up my mom told my sister and I that we were related to the forest service ranger that managed the crew that found Smokey the bear....glad she never told me we had high cheek bones!:hide:
 
While serving aboard a submarine I once spent over a month submerged, reactor shut down, while on shore power. Doing sound testing.

Had three different enlisted ratings before I retired from the Navy; MM(Nuke), CM (SeaBee), and LN (JAG corp).

Currently a Hot Air Balloon Pilot. I have two balloons. One commercially manufactured. One I sewed together in my living room.
 
I used to be a naturalist guide in the Galápagos Islands. I worked on a 50 foot island-built trawler, the Bartolomé, that would take up to 16 passengers on trips of up to 14 days through the archipelago. The crew consisted of the captain, mate, deckhand, cook, and me. It had a single Cat diesel, and we could only refuel at low tide because we needed enough elevation change between the drums of fuel on the pier and the boat to keep the siphon going. The fueling hose was a 2 inch clear hose, sort of like bilge hose but larger, and it was about 30 feet long because the water was too shallow at low tide to get next to the pier.

The fuel in those rusty drums was horrible stuff. Unfortunately, the owner had plumbed a single filter in line rather than the dual filter setup that most of us are familiar with. That meant that when the seas really got up, the fuel tanks would be sloshing like hell and all that sediment would drag the rpm down, down, down, until we would have to stop and change out the filter. Which meant that you always were lying beam-to in the worst seas possible when it was necessary to do the filter change. She was a round-bottomed full displacement craft that could take on any weather, but lying ahull she would roll her guts out. As the guide I stood watches, did my stints at the helm, and helped weigh anchor, but was mercifully exempt from boat maintenance.

When it was time to change the filter the crew would draw straws and the short straw had to go down into "el infierno," or "the hell," which was a great description of the tight engine space. The big Cat was at full operating temp, the boat was rolling rail to rail, and the crew member would end up drenched in sweat, bilge water, and diesel fuel. It was an absolute horror.

I loved that job...great boat, great boss, great crew, interesting passengers. Tremendous contrast with another job I took while Bartolomé was laid up for maintenance. I got talked into accepting the position of chief guide on a broken-down ship called El Neptuno. In contrast to the American and French tourists on my regular boat, the Neptuno largely took groups consisting of 80 drunken Ecuadorian businessmen. A few times I literally had to hide in my cabin (a small, airless steel box) because the passengers were trying to throw me overboard. They would get absolutely piss drunk and start becoming overtly hostile because I, an American, was telling them where to go and where not to go in the park, not to pick up baby seals, collect artifacts, etc.

One week-long trip on the Neptuno was great, however. The passengers were 60 high school girls with a gaggle of moms for chaperones. They attended some elite school in Quito. After a week of guiding them on twice-daily nature hikes, with lectures I would give at breakfast and after dinner, they threw a big party on their last night aboard with me as the guest of honor. It was only then that I learned they spoke English, and they learned the same about me! The whole week had been in Spanish, and only at the very end did I learn that they were all from diplomatic families in the American consulate! I had thought they were upper class Ecuadorians and they believed that I was Argentinian.

The rusty old Neptuno sank not long afterward. Good riddance.
 
Being a very young adult, in Camden ME, early 1970's: I made really, really good profit from a tavern/restaurant I built in an old, abandoned childs' clothing garment factory. It was a fabulous success with 210 max occupant. "The Hunter" especially catered to lobstermen, fishermen, loggers and construction workers. Tourists loved it too. I brought in fledgeling bands from Boston. During my 7th month of ownership a rich guy made me a high $$$ purchase offer I simply could not refuse.

Those were wild, crazy and fun days in my business and party life!

That success story lead to this.

Soon after sale of The Hunter I decided to cruise North America. Went to Leland Martz' auto sales in Rockport ME and bought a good condition, baby blue, SS, 1967 Chevy Malibu Convertible. Two friends and I decided to travel and see what we could see. They were a few years older than me and had their own money. We three traveled all over for a long time; partying hard.

Many memories!

Sooo here's the sorta-funny part [that could have become a real bummer]:

Day we arrived in Tombstone AZ; partied hard that night. We three got into a bar fight at the pool table, late at night, with a few locals. We won, but not without getting cuts and heavy bruises.

Slept that night at a couple of chicks' house. Woke up with one hell of a hangover headache as well as scabs and black and blues. That morning we had more than one "hair of the dog" beer; all three of us got half lit again.

Decided we'd cross the border into Mexico.

Now here's the crazy part: When crossing the border, with convertible top down, there was a considerably overweight person sitting on a bench. As we passed by he waved his hand and said "Alto"; we felt he was saying hello. We yelled howdy and waved as we powered by. Thinking back on it, I guess the shabby, dirty looking cloths he had on was an old uniform. Being rambunctious young parting fellows from New England, Down East area, not understanding Spanish, nor what was supposed to be done at the border, we kept right on going.

Soooo... not too far along a fairly wide dirt road, when entering a little town, I saw a red hexagon sign [looking just like a Stop sign] with "Alto" printed on it. I then realized... Crap... he must have meant stop!

Within a minute of seeing the Alto [Stop] sign I heard a weak siren and in rear view mirror saw a flashing bubble light on top of an older Volkswagen bug. Hell... Mexican police were chasing us!

I immediately began hightailing it back toward the border. In so doing I needed to quickly drive through a few dirt streets in the little Mexican town. That Volks Bug police car was on my ass. Some of the streets [basically the size of dirt alleys] we went through were really narrow with houses close to the street. Chickens were squealing and jumping everywhere... people screaming at us and throwing things. Dust so thick as we sped through that I could only hear the police siren but not see the car and seldom its flashing light.

Eventually my car literally slid into the U.S. side of the border. Two American border guards quickly had rifles pointing at us. We were ordered out of the car, hands on head. At gunpoint, they sat us on a bench. Then one of them began to tear into the car. When he opened the tightly packed trunk they brought all three of us to stand there answering questions as items came out.

In addition to cloths, tools, radio... etc... there were three big knives in strap to leg belt hung holsters, two hunting rifles and ammo; both the guns and their ammo were well separated; neither was loaded, After a thorough search they found nothing illegal. We were told to reload the car. They also told us that if we had been caught by Mexican police that we would have been immediately thrown into their jail.

Were we three wild and crazy, fun loving youngsters ever lucky!

Side note: The Mexican police car waited on their side of the border for much of the time that we were searched, before they left. One more item: Scott's face turned dead pale for a moment as the border cop went inside his red wind braker's pockets. It was something he'd not worn for a while.. Once back in the road into the USA I asked him what made him go pale?? Turns out he felt a good chance there was an ounce of grass in that coat; but there wasn't. Back then, we would have been arrested for international transport of an illegal drug.

I've been blessed as well as lucky more than once in my life. :thumb:
 
Last edited:
I got kicked out of Ashland Oregon in 1968 and warned never to return.....
The waitress called the police and I was escorted to the city limits and told by the officer that I was lucky that I was not thrown in jail. He warned me not to return to Ashland.


You should call Sylvester Stallone - he might make a movie out of it!
 
I always stop to rescue a turtle from the middle of the road. Did it yesterday.


I stopped in the middle of NASA Causeway a few weeks ago to let a 3’ timber rattler pass. Almost got out to see if I could help “motivate” to move it’s butt, but a big tour bus was coming.

I started driving just to watch the bus driver T-bone the snake - smooshed it like a pancake.

Never thought to give it the Heimlich though, maybe next time [emoji3]
 
I took my boat twice to the Revillagigedo Islands off the west coast of Mexico. It is a 350 mile trip each way and is now a marine reserve and no fishermen are allowed. We had a 15 sq ft freezer on board. While about 5 miles from the main island in the group we started dragging lures. By the time we got to the island we had more fish than our freezer would hold so we gave the excess tuna to the naval regiment on the island. In gratitude they gave us 20 giant lobster. They said that they were sick of eating it all the time. After cleaning the fish later that day my friend jumped in the water to clean off and at least a dozen white tipped sharks were under the boat but didn’t attack him. He’d lost a few pounds of intestinal contents before launching himself back onto the swim grid. For the week we were there the Mexican sailors came everyday to exchange lobster for beer on a 1 to 1 basis. We had to make them take tuna back in order to have room to fit them in the freezer.
 
One day, hiking through the mature temperate rain forest we have here, I suddenly became aware of...everything...all light, all movement, all colours, all of the minuscule details making up the entirety of the forest. It was a gift, lasted about half an hour, and has never happened again.


Gotta be careful with those wild mushrooms!:D
 
I was serving aboard a Navy sub hunter one of four sweeping the Mediterranean Sea from Gibraltar to the Ionian Sea. We picked up and tracked a USSR Echo2 nuclear submarine for several days when it suddenly surfaced it’s conning tower and paralleled our course at about 10 knots. Suddenly it turn into our port side and rammed us at speed navigating with it’s periscope. It rammed into our port side about 150’ forward of our stern. Since it’s bow was submerged it continued under us smashing in it’s bow and conning tower while our single propeller chopped chunks out of the subs deck designed missle launchers. It continued out our starboard side and powered away unable to submerge because of the damage. We had no propulsion with only two of the five blades left on our propeller and all the 36” diameter propeller shafting cork screwed from the collision. Minor flooding in two compartments. I always thought the incident might make a good book. ( Google USS Voge FF1047 K22 collision)
 

Attachments

  • 03C454BC-6D6E-47FC-B2E2-77B6E5AACF3C.jpg
    03C454BC-6D6E-47FC-B2E2-77B6E5AACF3C.jpg
    97.1 KB · Views: 42
  • AA8FA1BC-A7A4-4F0F-9E90-484CBEF715C6.jpg
    AA8FA1BC-A7A4-4F0F-9E90-484CBEF715C6.jpg
    104.5 KB · Views: 42
Last edited:
I bought a 450’ Lagoon Catamaran with no knowledge of sailing prior and never boated alone. I single handled the boat as a motor yacht for 8 months until one clear window I decided to cross to Bimini after I earning the ASA 101-114 certificates that truly didn’t feel learned or rather remembered in a 4 day period.
I survived Irma and had I stayed in Abacos like so many others, vs motoring out on a whim one day towards Ft Lauderdale, I wouldn’t survived that one.
I said I started big so if I hit her, and shaved some off, here and there, I’d still have enough left to boat on... not a ding in her under captaining myself.??
 
When I was applying for my very fist home loan my 25$ credit check “check” bounced. It was hard to get out of that one. I still got the loan .
 
In the summer of 1973, I sank my boat at the Point of Americas inlet in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. Since it was navigable waters, a Coast Guard boat (huge boat - probably 75-100 feet long) shows up. Waves beached the boat about 10 yards from shore near some condos (great views!). Coast Guard calls out on bull horn for someone to swim out and get two line. I get "offered up" to swim out to the boat (no one told me the Fort Lauderdale inlet is shark infested. I was not a swimmer, so I swam with my face down in the water and kept going. As I got near the stern, the engine noise was incredible. Opened my eyes and saw two props, one turning clockwise, one turning counterclockwise very slowly, when I lifted my head out of the water, about 4 guys were screaming at the top of their lungs from the deck looking down at me - I was about 2 feet from the stern - yikes. They handed me a line that felt like 100 pounds. I swam back with the line to the boat. Once I tied the line to it, they pulled the boat from shore- and floated a huge bilge pump to pump it out to tow it to the marina. By the way, this was the boat's maiden voyage - went from brand new to junk in two hours!! Dad was not happy, as can imagine!!
 
In 1966 while in the Air Force in Arizona my wife and I got married. We lived in a $75.00 a month small apartment off base. It was a real struggle to pay the rent, but my wife found a job as a waitress that paid .25 cents per hour plus tips and we managed OK. After 4 years we moved back to the Pacific NW.

Worked a couple of years and it was time to buy a house. It was the perfect time. The billboards in the Seattle area read "Will the last person leaving Seattle please turn out the lights?" The banks had foreclosed on thousands of homes and they were desperate to dispose of them. So we found one we wanted, bid on it, and won the bid. Bought it for $19,000.00. Paid a grand total of $75.00 and moved in. Then we sat down and tried to figure out how we were going to make the $125.00 per month house payment. Sold that house about 15 years later for $119,000.00. Had a big down payment for the next one.
 
In the summer of 1973, I sank my boat at the Point of Americas inlet in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. Since it was navigable waters, a Coast Guard boat (huge boat - probably 75-100 feet long) shows up. Waves beached the boat about 10 yards from shore near some condos (great views!). Coast Guard calls out on bull horn for someone to swim out and get two line. I get "offered up" to swim out to the boat (no one told me the Fort Lauderdale inlet is shark infested. I was not a swimmer, so I swam with my face down in the water and kept going. As I got near the stern, the engine noise was incredible. Opened my eyes and saw two props, one turning clockwise, one turning counterclockwise very slowly, when I lifted my head out of the water, about 4 guys were screaming at the top of their lungs from the deck looking down at me - I was about 2 feet from the stern - yikes. They handed me a line that felt like 100 pounds. I swam back with the line to the boat. Once I tied the line to it, they pulled the boat from shore- and floated a huge bilge pump to pump it out to tow it to the marina. By the way, this was the boat's maiden voyage - went from brand new to junk in two hours!! Dad was not happy, as can imagine!!

If you don't mind stating: What make, style, type, size boat? Engine quit or was something struck that put hole in the boat's bottom?
 
I started a riot on my last day of high school.
 
I was serving aboard a Navy sub hunter one of four sweeping the Mediterranean Sea from Gibraltar to the Ionian Sea. We picked up and tracked a USSR Echo2 nuclear submarine for several days when it suddenly surfaced it’s conning tower and paralleled our course at about 10 knots. Suddenly it turn into our port side and rammed us at speed navigating with it’s periscope. It rammed into our port side about 150’ forward of our stern. Since it’s bow was submerged it continued under us smashing in it’s bow and conning tower while our single propeller chopped chunks out of the subs deck designed missle launchers. It continued out our starboard side and powered away unable to submerge because of the damage. We had no propulsion with only two of the five blades left on our propeller and all the 36” diameter propeller shafting cork screwed from the collision. Minor flooding in two compartments. I always thought the incident might make a good book. ( Google USS Voge FF1047 K22 collision)

This definitely sounds fake. FAKE NEWS.
But for seriously though, what the hell was this clown hole trying to accomplish? World War 3??
 
When I was applying for my very fist home loan my 25$ credit check “check” bounced. It was hard to get out of that one. I still got the loan .

That is funny! Maybe should be in the "Humor" thread too??
 
That is funny! Maybe should be in the "Humor" thread too??

It reminds me of the lady taking a driving test in my home town. Now, the route they use crosses a railroad track. She somehow managed a collision with the train and while the car was wiped out, she and the examiner escaped injury. She then turned to the examiner as they stood beside the wreckage and asked if she was getting her license. He said if he had anything to do with it, not in his lifetime.
 
It reminds me of the lady taking a driving test in my home town. Now, the route they use crosses a railroad track. She somehow managed a collision with the train and while the car was wiped out, she and the examiner escaped injury. She then turned to the examiner as they stood beside the wreckage and asked if she was getting her license. He said if he had anything to do with it, not in his lifetime.

Well... but... IMHO - Most mistake items are not quite as funny as the credit check "bounced check" mistake!
 
I started a riot on my last day of high school.
On my last day of high school, we had a party on the beach on Lake Erie. It was a beautiful day, sunny & warm and we all were enjoying the sun. I had my shirt off and was canoeing most of the day with several young ladies, not noticing how bad my sun burn really was. (I had large blisters the size of grapes all over my back and I was in pain!) Long story short....I had to go to the hospital where they advised me to go home and take a bath in milk of magnesia & vinegar, which takes the sting out of a severe burn. Later that evening while preparing for commencement proceedings, I fashioned a protective covering for my shoulders out of cloth diapers & I bought a new white shirt 2 sizes larger that I normally wear to go over the dressing. To this day, I think I'm the only one to ever graduate from that school in diapers.:blush:
 
Many of us have had personal encounters with stars of movies, TV, etc. I've had two memorable ones.

First was years ago when I was in the USAF in Alaska.. I worked in a ski shop that had a gun counter (Gary King's Sporting Goods for those of you who have been to Anchorage). I basically ran the gun counter in the afternoons and weekends because the owner and manager both were skiers and ran those departments. We did a lot of business with guides because of the inventory we carried.

Well one day in walks one of the guides and his client--Steve McQueen. They came to the gun counter and the guide bought a couple of rifles, scopes, ammo, etc. They really were for Steve but because he wasn't an AK resident couldn't legally buy them. Over the course of the next hour and a half I spent that time talking (and selling) guns, ammo, scopes, down clothing, down sleeping bags, etc., but just doing a lot of chit chat. He was a great, down to earth kind of guy and if you didn't know who he was and what he did you'd have thought he was just a regular Joe..

The second was years later when my family was skiing in Sun Valley. I got a case of altitude sickness and had to sit in the lodge for a couple of hours until it passed. I went into the cafeteria and got some lunch and sat at a table next to Clint Eastwood. He's a regular in Sun Valley. We talked about skiing, the snow conditions, everything but his movie career. Another down to earth guy.
 
Back
Top Bottom