On Saturday morning, February 10th, it was a quiet winter’s morning on Grays Hollow. As I headed down to the dock, not one person was stirring. Little did I know that fact alone would play a significant role in what was about to happen in a lightning quick moment that would launch my 79 years on the planet before my very eyes.
Many years ago we had discarded a water slide, but not
the associated water spigot plumbed through the decking to provide a water
supply to the slide. In one giant step, as I headed for other side of the dock,
I tripped and was launched head-long towards the vacant, but largest of our
three slips. As I surfaced, I immediately realized the gravity of the
situation…especially with a zip-up hoodie sweatshirt on that now felt like it
weighed around 50-plus pounds. My thoughts were confined to identifying a route
outta’ this predicament and my utter lack of respect for life jackets over the
years.
On any given Saturday during the boating season,
thousands of people would have been found enjoying those healing waters of
Dripping Springs, but today, when I needed them most, there wasn’t a soul in
site. I can’t deny some thoughts about life threatening events in my life like
cancer, a tour of duty in Vietnam as a Marine, Pneumonia and a few near misses
during night-time boating. But the thought my beloved pond might lead to my
demise was unthinkable.. The water temp was in the low forties, my route of
escape was lengthy when a voice from our house shouted, “Do you need help?”
I started to respond with one of my smart-ass one
liners, instead I decided “Yes Dear” would be an appropriate response. My
heaven-sent angel made her way to the dock and the first order of business was
shedding that heavy hoodie, getting a rope to help me navigate across the open
slip, get the pontoon off the lift and access its ladder to rescue my arse.
But….that’s when Murphy reared his ugly head!
We’ve had that pontoon for over two years but had
never had the ladder in the down position since these days our swimming takes
place mostly off our dock. Now check this out Mr. McClure, neither of your
clients were smart enough to get the ladder in the down position. By this time
my amphibious training, complements of the good ‘ol USMC, was becoming stressed…On
to the next objective!
The wet-steps ladder was in sight and this near-miss
was about to come to an end. Cold, num and a little battered and bruised, but
as I like to say, “Still Upright.” After making my way to the house, taking a
hot shower and starting to ponder the entire morning’s events, I realized just
how fortunate I had been. I remembered how many times I had stumbled over that
spicket and how now job one would be its removal. An intervention movement was
underway within my family to ban me from frequenting the dock alone. Mentally I
hired Harvey Spector and Mike Ross from the hit Netflix series Suits, to
negotiate my case. Since they never lose, we settled on the use of a water-activated
life jacket at all times.
On Grand Lake, the official water safety police is headed
up by Lake Patrol Chief Brian Edwards and he has the uniform to prove it. When
I told him my story, he said, “Ever heard of the 50/50 rule?” I had not so he went on to explain: “A fifty-year-old
person has a 50 -50 chance of surviving 50 minutes in fifty degree water.” The
prognosis of a 79-year-old man in 40-something degree water wasn’t a scenario I
wanted to think about. I started to clearly appreciate the gravity of the
situation. I’m now a lifejacket advocate and hope all Grand Lakers will join in
that effort. Tragedy can strike ever so fast from the least likely of places. As
I said, “”Nine foot tall and bulletproof no more.”
See Ya’ Around the Pond!!
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