OK--As a name for an inflatable fishing boat, "Meadowhawk" may be a bit pretentious, perhaps a bit Lord Fauntleroy-ish, and, should I go so far as to stencil the name on its side, likely to give pause to a certain breed of mustachioed, cigar-puffing angler as I drift past. But a partner in a close and successful working relationship requires a name. "Meadowhawk" is an apt and organic one for this craft.
When I fish the Huron river in summer, I am often surrounded by swarms of small red dragonflies known as Ruby Meadowhawks.
I found them quite interesting. Apparently they are common, but I can't remember seeing them before I started fishing the Huron. They came to mind when I thought of my little red boat skimming the waters this summer. I hope it can glide with all the grace and assuredness of its namesakes. Since those qualities will have to be supplied by me, they may not appear immediately.
But enough of ento/ety-mology. I'd been waiting for a nice day to try out the boat, and last Saturday was as nice as I could hope for, with sunny skies and temperatures above 70. I had Kristine drive me to Island Park in Ann Arbor and asked her to pick me up two hours later at Dixboro Dam. That would give me plenty of time to assemble the boat, make the trip, and break it down again before she picked me up. It did, though not without an assortment of mishaps along the way.
Problems started before we left for the river, although I didn't know it until I got there. I kept the boat frame assembled over the winter, but had to take it apart to fit it in the back of my car. I took out a couple of pins that held the frame together and dropped them in the driveway while loading the boat frame. When I began reassembling the boat at the river, I noticed I had not picked them back up. I redistributed the remaining pins and hoped that the frame would hold for the duration of my float; at that point I couldn't ask Kristine to run back for them because was already gone.
Once I got underway, things were OK, initially. I did find I had not arranged the pontoons evenly, and that I had positioned the seat too far back, but these weren't serious problems. The purpose of the float was to learn about such matters before I took the boat out fishing. The Huron was higher and swifter than I usually see it, and in the early parts of the float, I had to row carefully to avoid some protruding logs and find smooth routes through several rapids. But once I had reached the area around Furstenburg Park, the river had become placid, and I was able to bob along casually, enjoying the sun above and the cold water on my waders.
Here's a little slice of urban solitude, shot just upriver from Furstenburg Park
There actually was little solitude on this float. Trails line the banks along much of this stretch, and there were many walkers and joggers out. In small clearings along the river, people lay reading or sunbathing. By the time I reached the head of Gallup Pond, the reservoir above Dixboro Dam, the water itself was getting crowded, and I had to weave my way through canoes, kayaks, and even a few motorboats.
It was also here that serious complications began. I was only a few yards onto the pond when it became obvious that fishing pontoons are not designed for stillwaters. It felt like I barely moved with each stroke of the oars. Old men on the bankside trails were passing me. I saw too that I hadn't remembered just how long Gallup Pond is--probably close to two miles. It looked like I had a tough slog ahead, but it got tougher than expected when my oars began disassembling. A screw keeps the oarlocks tight around the shaft of the oars, and the screws in both oarlocks began to loosen. I didn't have a screwdriver with me, and I couldn't hand-tighten them. by the end, the oars were floating loose in the locks, making it harder to get a good pull with them. I made it to the landing just when Kristine pulled up. Both oars were heavily scratched, and on one I lost the rubber wrap that the locks tighten around. I suffered a bit of damage myself in the form of a backache for the next day and a half.
But the Meadowhawk and I survived mostly intact. It's going to take me a while to get the hang of pontooning, but if I can conclude my next few outing with the words in the previous sentence, I'll deem my progress satisfactory.
Tags: Outdoors ; Fishing
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