The Mariner's Misstep

Raquette Lake nights have seen strange sights,

But the strangest they might ever have seen,

Was that night in July when my friends and I

Took a spin on the lake serene.

It all started out with an innocent shout,

"Who's up for an evening run?"

Well, we all agreed it was just what we need

To cap off a day of fun.

So we piled in the car; didn't have to go far

For the launch was just 'round the bend. I backed the boat in with a rakish grin,

The captain on whom you depend.

We pulled from the dock about eight-o'clock

And glided across the lake.

The sun had just set and the clouds looked wet;

It was almost too much to take.

Well, we motored around until someone found It was getting too dark to see.

So I brought her about with a jaunty shout,

"It's camp and a beer for me!"

I pulled in to the dock, tied the lines to a chock,

And retrieved the car from the park,

Backed the trailer in, gave the dock boy a fin,

And untied the lines in near dark.

As I inched toward the guides, my friends on the side

Offered help with the bow and stern lines

I said with a pompous voice, "This is my choice,

And I've done it a hundred times."

Well, I got to the chock but needed to walk

On the trailer-frame up to the link.

So I stepped o'er the side, felt my footing slide,

And promptly fell in the drink!

In my zeal to prove I was steadfast and smooth,

I'd broken a cardinal rule:

Never assume there is just enough room

Or you might end up looking the fool.

Needless to say, I made quite a spray,

Falling carelessly over the side.

But the only thing hurt was my shorts and my shirt,

And a goodly piece of my pride.

The moral, of course, is hold on to your horse,

Or your boat, or dock, or whatever.

And make sure that your feet are planted neat

On a piece of non-skid tether.

For as sure as there's rain, your feat will remain

The fodder for friends' jokes forever.

And the story told to young and old

Will be amplified over and over.

So take it from me when you put out to sea

In your beautiful old wooden boats,

Be certain you take a sanity break,

�And also a cell phone that floats!

An original lyric by our resident bard, FLC VP Jack Gifford. (It almost rhymes! -Ed.)