How Grey Goose Vodka saved the day

We all know that liquid spirits are used to improve human spirits out in the wilderness. A hot toddy on a cool fall morning, a beer to beat the sun, a vodka...

Although it’s difficult to determine where it all started, for me it started when I came over the rise and saw our fishing boat sitting much too deep in the water. A closer investigation revealed water was filling the ski-well and seeping up toward our feet from the stern.

Not a big problem—someone just forgot to put the cork in, right?  Confident the bilge pump would take care of matters, we set out to fish for those elusive walleyes.

The water about our feet was slow to ebb so fearing the bilge was having trouble with its task, a bucket was used to toss the flood waters back into the lake. About then, with our feet drying out in the hot August sun and with no bites or nibbles, it was time to change hooks—except, as we soon discovered, the tackle box hadn’t made it from the picnic table to the boat. We returned to shore and I hastily loped back to our campsite to retrieve the forgotten hooks and minnows.

Now we’re ready, right? Well, except as we push off, it becomes apparent that despite bailing, the water level in the boat was again rising.  Fifteen minutes later it wasn’t just water that bailed as the able captain set us ashore and took off to pull the boat and more closely investigate the matter of the rising waters.

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 Turns out that not only was the cork misplaced, but the pump used to fill the live-well was burned out. Without the pump working, water was going where it shouldn’t. We needed to plug that live well inlet. Although an extra plug was in the glove compartment, it wasn’t the right size.

It just so happened that the first born son remembers there’s an empty bottle of Grey Goose vodka in the recycle bin (not necessarily empty because it had been drunk...but that’s another story) and it has not a screw cap—but a cork.

The fishing gods must have been smiling that day as the cork was exactly the right size to fill that live-well inlet. With the mechanical problems solved, we once more grabbed our gear (all of it this time), crawled into the boat and with the sun shining on our faces, once more hit the waters of Wolf Lake. 

Eileen Schuh, Author
FATAL ERROR
Schrödinger's Cat
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