What I did for summer vacation

We arrived at Smith Mountain Lake in Virginia to embark on our first ever Family Houseboat Vacation.

Even though we had never been on a houseboat before, we didn't let that deter us, so we rented her. The boat had a cute name too. The "B Marie." Which of course, prompted many (to the point of overkill) exchanges of "I be Marie," "No, you be Marie," until the kids told us to cut it out.

An hour or so later, completely drenched in sweat from unpacking everything we owned, we summoned the young man who was going to teach us how to be boat people.

He gave us a thorough 15 minutes of instruction on how to drive a 45' x 12' monolith on a lake filled with potential victims in smaller crafts. He then gave us a shove and wished us well.

We quickly learned that navigating a houseboat is not a trivial task and the bridge we had to go under was looming fast. Fortunately, the instructor had mentioned that the one arch the boat would fit beneath was marked with an orange dot. Unfortunately, we hadn't mastered driving at that point. My daughter, who was on the top deck, is doing fine now.

After a while, I felt nature's call, so I made my first visit to the "head" (that's "bathroom" for you landlubbers), and have a pretty good idea of why it's called that now. My head hit the walls several times while I was in there. I also managed to empty the contents from the one roll of toilet paper that they so generously supplied, onto the floor.

Considering toilet paper to be an essential item for a four-day cruise, we consulted the lake map for the nearest marina. You've seen marinas before, right?  If not, I'd like to point out the one major flaw every one of them has -- gas pumps right there at dockside. Fortunately, no one was hurt in the explosion when we tried to dock and as an added bonus, they had a fire sale on all merchandise.

We finally made our way to a quiet cove and dropped anchor so we could cast our lines. We fished. And fished. And fished. We had licenses to fish. The fish didn't care. We tried live bait. We tried fake lures. Spinners, shad, the Bass Catcher Worm -- "Guarandamteed to catch a big'un."  (I'm not joking, it was printed just like that on the bag).

The only thing we caught was a 17-foot oak tree dredged from the bottom of the lake by one of our anchors.

Since we'd had such a difficult time with the anchors, we tried just free floating more toward the center of the lake. Here's the fallacy in that plan -- small, fast boats make big waves. The kind of waves that cause food products and small appliances to fly across the room. Repeatedly. The kind of waves that cause the people on the top deck to take an unexpected swim.

We headed back to the safety of the cove figuring we'd take our chances with losing an anchor. We ate dinner, lounged in our chairs, and watched the sunset. After a few minutes of complete and total darkness and with no electricity available, we decided going to bed was the right thing to do. The only thing, really.

We flipped on the flashlights so we could batten down the hatches. Huge mistake.

In every nook, cranny, and corner, high and low, there were spider webs. Spider webs that weren't there just five minutes previously. I think we upset the ecological balance of nature that night when we emptied three cans of insect repellent to kill the army of spiders that were trying to weave us into a floating cocoon.

On our last night, I woke and couldn't get back to sleep, so I quietly crept to the front porch. I mean, bow. It was very, very dark. Every now and then, a fish would make a splash. I tried reading by flashlight, but was distracted by those noises. Then I thought about that first really scary movie I ever watched. You know the one, Friday the 13^th, Jason, and the lake?  The loss of sleep did not bode well for the six-hour drive home the next day.

When we plan our Family Houseboat Vacation for next year, there are going to be some changes. While it will still include the family, the house is going to be near the lake, not on it, and the boat is going to be just a boat. One we rent for a day.

Copyright © 2003 Bex Hall