That Sinking Feeling

“A boat is just a hole in the water into which you throw money.”

-anonymous / unanimous

A week ago, Captain Carl, a good friend and electrician, helped your humble Captain with some needed work on The Tiki Hut, our 1985 25’ Sea Ray Sundancer.

As planned, I had already spent about $300 to recover the interior cushions, work I did in my garage during the winter months.

Last Friday we replaced the remote shifter for the throttle – the stick-shift thingy that makes the boat go.

Your Captain is so technical!

The one that came with the boat – probably not original to the boat – was cracked and held together with a mile of black electrician’s tape. It was ugly and it just didn’t shift properly.

Through Amazon I found the new part for about $300 and it looks beautiful now that it is installed.

Then we fired up the engine for the first time since winterizing it last Fall.

A church member had helped me winterize it. A former truck driver and farmer, as well as a boat owner, he knows his way around an engine.

Or so I thought.

So last Friday Captain Carl and I fired up the engine. But water wasn’t circulating.

Captain's Note: A boat engine is cooled by drawing water from the lake, circulating it through the engine, then spitting it back into the lake.

We could hear water gurgling, but it was not coming out. Not a good sign for a boat.

We shut her down and began looking for the problem.

First up, the Captain identified a fuel leak on top of the engine.

Ironically, it was right next to a sticker that warned that a fuel leak could lead to a fire.

We fixed that and fired her up again.

Still no water circulating.

That’s when Captain Carl noticed a freeze plug that had popped out during the long, cold winter. 

Captain's Note: A freeze plug is designed to pop out when water in the engine begins to freeze. This relieves pressure and prevents the engine block from cracking.  

Turns out, water had been circulating after all, dumping through the port side of the engine into the bilge.

Crap! That’s not good.

At this point, Captain Carl had to leave and I went in search for a new freeze plug.

Returning with my $1.58 part, I realized the plug belonged in a hole in the bottom of the engine, directly above the mounting bracket.

After a couple hopeless attempts, your Captain surrendered. I called the general manager of the marina and asked him to send out a mechanic. He told me the mechanic probably wouldn’t be right out – could be next week – so I went home.

As the Captain pondered the situation, I thought up a strategy to get the plug back into place, but my opportunity to try was delayed by work responsibilities.

My “real job”.

So yesterday, armed with tools and a fresh mindset, the Captain crawled head-first into the cramped engine compartment. I disconnected a hose and unplugged a spark plug wire to gain access to my target point.

That’s when I saw this:

That would be a crack in the engine block.

I sent Captain Carl a photo. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is…”

But it was.

Suddenly the freeze plug was not a concern anymore.

This is when it got really frustrating.

I tracked down the GM of the marina. “Yeah, I remember your call.”

He hadn’t called a mechanic for me after all. Apparently marine mechanics are hard to come by. But he hadn’t told me that last week.

And when I explained my new discovery, he wasn’t really sympathetic.

“You’ve got that little boat over on Pier 4?”

The Tiki Hut frozen in 2" of ice this past January.

It’s 25 feet long!

He dismissed your Captain’s outrage by waving toward the line of massive yachts on Pier 1.

Captain’s Note: Even if I had a massive ship, I wouldn’t park it on “Pier 1”.

The GM’s recommendation, considering the age of the boat and the cost of repair, was that I trade it in on a new boat.

But I can’t trade it with a cracked engine block, can I?

“Oh, they’ll take it in trade.”

That didn’t seem right to the Captain, who is nothing if not honest.

Next I went to a nearby business that sells and repairs boats.

Just to get some idea what I was facing.

I spoke with the mechanic for a good long time while the service desk clerk looked up files on similar work they did on a boat recently.

He was not very encouraging.

The bad news was pretty much what the Captain had expected: it would cost somewhere around $6,000 to get The Tiki Hut back on the water!

And I would have to trailer the boat to him.

Then he suggested contacting my insurance company.

I hadn’t thought of that. Would insurance cover a cracked block?

As the mechanic saw it, if you are backing your boat and trailer into your garage but end up in your living room instead, insurance will cover that.

If you put your boat in the water without replacing the plug, park it in your slip then go off to lunch for a couple hours, you return and find it at the bottom of the lake – your insurance will cover that.

Not that he was suggesting the Captain should do that…

Or was he?

So I called my insurance agent. A claims agent will contact me sometime next week.

Captain's Note: I don't blame the church member who helped me winterize The Tiki Hut. She is my boat; I am responsible for her. 

And so the Captain waits.

And reads...

Warm weather is finally starting to show up and stick around, and the First Mate is itching to get back out on the water.

But mark my word, The Tiki Hut will sail again.

Soon!

And better than ever!

I Had a Dream

I had a dream.

No, not that kind of dream.

Last night I had a dream.

It is remarkable since the Captain doesn’t dream very often.

I flip. I flop. I sometimes snore.

The First Mate says I snore frequently.

But I don’t often dream.

At least anything memorable.

But this particular dream was vivid. Memorable.

And disturbing.

In the dream, the Captain apparently decided to go back to college.

Captain’s Note: As a point of information, the Captain has a Bachelor of Arts and a Master of Divinity degree. Going back to college is NOT on the agenda.

Even when actually enrolled in school I was not an “academic”. While my fellow students argued about isogesis vs. exegesis and ecclesiology and other words the Captain struggles to spell, I did what was necessary to graduate and get on with my life.

And spent as much time as possible on the beaches of southern California.

So I don’t know exactly what possessed me to sign up for a class again in my dream world.

Or maybe I do.

I am writing this while sitting through a session of a clergy retreat.

It’s Continuing Education.

Maybe that’s what triggered last night’s dream.

Or maybe it was something else…

Anyway, as the dream unfolded, the Captain was speaking with someone representing the school administration. Perhaps a faculty advisor? I don’t know.

Being so far removed from formal schooling, I had signed up for just one class – sticking a toe in the waters, as it were – to see if I could hack the rigors of the academic life again.

The class was something along the line of Creative Arts.

Did I say “rigors of the academic life”?

It should have been an easy “A” – especially in my dream world, right? – but to be honest, I had not attended class all semester.

Captain’s Note: That, by the way, is a recurring dream. In other versions of the dream, I can't find my locker, I can't find my classroom, I can’t even remember what classes I was supposed to be attending. I was enjoying life and enrolled in name only.

In last night’s dream, it was the end of the semester and I had not yet received my grade / report card. But when I asked the administrator about my grade, she was hesitant to tell me.

Curious.

Instead of telling me flat out that I had failed – having pity on the poor ol’ Captain – she fired up a projector and showed me some of the projects other students had turned in.

They looked like runners-up in the Oscar Film Shorts.

My own project – although I didn’t actually see it in the dream – was a diorama made with Play-doh.

Unlike previous school-related dreams that left me with a feeling of being unprepared about something, last night’s dream left me with a feeling of being out-of-touch.

Even… irrelevant.

Moment of honesty here, mates.

The Captain wonders if this dream was triggered by the announcement yesterday that a friend and colleague was soon to be appointed Senior Pastor to a large church near Memphis.

A friend who is considerably younger than I am.

Now, throughout the Captain’s life I have been told of the coming day when – due to a shortage of clergy – young pastors would be caught up and moved to larger churches “ahead of their time”.

Captain’s Note: This was from a time when pastors were largely moved based on years of service, climbing "the ladder" to the large-steeple church. As it was always told to me, this would occur “in the next ten years”.

It was first told to me 40+ years ago when I was exploring ministry as a possible career. I heard it again in seminary, and it has been repeated frequently over the years. But that day never arrived for me.

Perhaps because the Captain scuttled those opportunities when they presented themselves.

I can still recall the day my first Superintendent laid out his plan for my career, leading me from a beginning salary to a tall-steeple church... I could maybe even become a Superintendent just like him!

And I can still recall my response to that plan: "I'm not sure I want that for my ministry."

I never envisioned myself as a "Senior Pastor" or - worse - an "Executive Pastor". I never wanted to be barricaded behind a locked door and a phalanx of secretaries to prevent members from interrupting my sermon writing time. 

I wanted to minister to people. Hands on. Face to face.

Apparently, however, that foretold day has finally arrived. Bold moves are being made.

I celebrate for my friend. I wish him well. I pray he has a fruitful ministry.

It’s just that the announcement came as a surprise.

He said it came as a surprise to him as well!

Don’t get me wrong. I love where I am appointed. It is a good fit.

The schedule is sometimes grueling – having to repeat everything three different times.

But this ol’ Captain doesn’t plan to move anytime soon.

Just ten years to retirement…

I realized several years ago I’m no longer one of the dynamic young clergy in the conference. And I am all for letting the younger clergy spread their wings and fly!

But this morning I awoke concerned: has the Captain reached the point of being “out of touch”?

Or worse… Irrelevant?

Are my dreams trying to tell me something?

I'm not ready for that yet...