Yellow Rope

It was cloudy and gray the first time we put our boat into the water in Grand Marais. The fog was coming soon, the air was thick with risk. There were no other boats on the water. It didn’t matter.

Our plan was to launch our boat and take our sullen teenage kids for a ride. We’d driven six hours towing the new boat behind us. Every few miles I’d steal a look in the rear view mirror looking for the disaster in motion. The motor dropping off, a tire going flat, the boat falling on its side after a turn.

I’d settle myself with my dream. In my dream, we would launch our boat on a clear sunny day with puffy white clouds. The water would be silky and smooth and our boat would cut a clean slice. Everyone in the boat would be laughing and my husband would be standing up, steering the boat with the effort of a single finger, while he smiled over his shoulder at all of us, his passengers.

When we came back to the dock in my dream, we’d sidle up quietly and I’d grab the dock and then tie us up fast and neat like they taught us in boating class. We both passed with high scores and carried cards in our wallets like Boy Scouts carrying proof of our badges. We would be boaters with the best of them.

But it wasn’t like that. It was cold and foggy. The sullen teens turned cynical. Being in the boat became a chore they resented and I hated them for that. They could appreciate all the worry that went into bringing the boat this far, be gracious, and helpful, but no. They sat huddled up like hostages. When we bumped the dock on the way in, they snickered in a silent ethereal way, given cover by the growing blanket of fog. They scattered when we tied up. I could hear their voices as they headed up the road back to their video games. I felt glad to be rid of them. Go. Just go.

I remember that day so well. It was when I started to peel the fiction off my life. I’d had it in my mind for months that we should have a boat. I thought having a boat would make life exhilarating, liberate us from the ordinary. People who have boats, well, we could be those people. But now we had a boat and we had our hostages and it was nothing like my dream.

Except for the rope. There was yellow rope.