This is long, but sumitted for two reasons:

1) I do like telling the story, and hope you find it entertaining

2) To dispute Harry's "facts" that all Bayliners are crappy an cannot
possibly take weather.

My first powerboat was a 16 foot bayliner Capri Cuddy with an 85HP Force
Outboard. In the one season I owned her, I put close to 250 miles on it,
in Lake Erie, in everything from dead calm to 6-8 foot waves.

The best example of the later, occurred on Labor Day of 1999, the day
before (sunday) on our way back from a trip to Windsor, and Wyandote, we
stopped off at South Bass Island for a little extra party time. The
Dimond brothers proceeded to terrorize the small village of Put-in-Bay
(PIB) in our usual was by drinking lots, laughing loud, and making
friends.

That night I was asleep outside the cabin on the jump seat because of the
unbearable humidity without any breeze. At around 4am I awoke to use the
head and found the most comfortable gentle breeze, with a humidity that
dropped instantly. It was then I suspected a nor'easter was going to
hit. I crawled in the cabin for a few more hours sleep and awoke to a
very stiff blow by 9:00am.

At 9:00am I awoke to stumble to the bathroom (again). At that time I
found our PIB Dockmaster, Keith, posting the NWS 8:00am forecast. Not
Good. I then tuned to VHF to get the latest forecast, which posted a
strong, persistent NNE wind with the current wave heights from the SBI
bouy at 5 to 7 feet, with wave heights ranging from 8 to 10 feet in the
afternoon.

Knowing it would only get worse, not wanting to miss to my Girlfriends
BBQ, and needing to get to work on Tuesday, I frantically woke by
Brother, Rich. I told him to get his ass in gear, we have to leave before
the heavy stuff hits. Richard, having certain southern qualities and
probably hung over, meandered to the bathroom at a pace much slower than I
had hoped.

By 10am we were donned with Live vests and leaving the dock in a light
rain. Because of my lack of experience, I opted to have the top down
while leaving the dock, due to the added windage. The people who saw us
off looked at my bother with sympathy when I refused their courteous offer
to stay. We shoved off from Miller's and headed east towards the PIB
municipal docks.

To paraphrase George Costanza: The Bay was angry my friend, like an old
man trying to send back soup in a deli. As we were heading out of the
bay, we were hitting 3-4 foot waves IN THE BAY. In order to stay dry my
brother tried to put the top up, but then I couldnt see. I unzipped the
center and peered out through the hole. Unfortunately the wind was so
strong that the hole allowed the wind to pull the top off of the remaining
snaps when we started to power up. So here I am trying to drive the boat
in ever increasing wind, waves, and rain, screaming at my brother to move
his ass and get the F*cking top stowed away.

A few moments after he gets the top stowed he comes back next to me. I
turned to him and in that moment BAM! My face hit the windshield frame.
(Note to Harry, the Windshield did not break) I could taste the blood
comming out of my mouth. I then turned to my brother, smiled, and in my
best Carl from Caddyshak impersonation said "I think we should press on...
I don't think the heavy stuff comming for quite some time". With that
we laughed like hyena and pressed on.

We hit the second worst port of our journey about 3/4 of a mile past the
green SBI marker. It was there the boat stalled. Out of gas. I asked
my brother to switch the tanks. Not smart. Once again I watched my
brother in his laid back fashion fumbling to switch the tank, a job that I
learned to do in about three seconds. I turned my attention toward the
lake, where I watched helplessly as an eight foot wall of water was
approaching our stern. If this wave breaks the boat will probably sink
is all I could think about. I then yelled at my brother to hurry the
F*CK up! The wave passed beneath us (it didn't break) and our engine
strarted up on its fresh tank. We then headed toward the South south
west where the ride would be in the lee side of South Bass while taking
the weather further abeam. All the while reciting the mantra of Carl from
Caddyshak.

As we cruised we saw only three boats. One appeared to be a 25 foot Lyman
or Skiff-Craft as it was clearly a lapstrake inboard. The other two were
sedans in the 30 to 35 foot range. We started behind them headed a
little more SSW to diminish the weather, then back tracked SE to a point
SW of the SW kelly shore, where we were still taking the waves further
abeam and and passed them all. More than ever my brother and I were all
smiles and laughter, though I can't honesty say why. I probably had a
concussion, I don't know what his excuse was. As we headed further SE,
towards the inlet I thought clearly the worst was over as kellys should
help harbor us into Sandusky Bay. Clearly my inexperience would prove me
wrong.

As we made the Sandusky Bay inlet the water was being funneled between
Kelly's Island, Marblehead point and the Ceder Point breakwall. What a
mess. The wave action was all over, with the majority of action heading
form out of due north to give us following seas. There was a channel
which cut from the western shore of the Sandusky inlet to the Nothern
shore of Sandusky Bay's protected waters. I had only a vague notion of
where it was, but on this day, I was determined to find it.

As we headed south west to hug the shore we managed to find the red marker
marking the channel. We darted for it and found ourself in the flat
protected water of the channel. The channel lead us to the flat protected
water of Sandusky bays North shore, about two miles due north of my home
port the Dock of the Bay Marina. We arrived at the dock at about
11:15am, soaked to the bone, desperately needing the restroom, but in
great spirits.

As we exited the restroom to head back to the boat, a woman in her mid
fifties approached me. "Oh my god! You didn't take your boat back last
night did you?" She said with surprise. Looking like Dan Quayle after
being asked to spell Potato I said "huh? Uh.. No.?" She noted the lack
or recognition and said: "Don't you remember? You guys saw my Dock of the
Bay shirt and were hanging around with my husband and I last night at
Tippers? We were taking the (Island) Rocket back and you guys said you
were staying on your boat. You guys were so drunk, I just assumed you
weren't taking your boat back last night!" "We didn't." I repeated.
"Oh.. did you leave your boat up there, and ferry back?" I replied: "No,
we came back today." "Well you guys are brave, considering the weather
out there. Our friends had to leave their 35 footer at the bay, and took
the rocket back. So where's your boat?" I pointed to the southeast slip
of the outside pier, nearest the parking lot. "Right there." She
gasped: "Don't tell me you came back in that boat!", pointing the new 28
foot Formula that was in line of sight. "No." I lead her a little
further towards the pier where the Tiny 16 foot cuddy started to peer out
from behind the Formula "That one." She gasped and "Oh my God! Are you
crazy?" Rich and I reassured here that while it wasn't a leisurely
cruise, it was not that bad. I really don't think we had her convinced
though.

I called Michelle and told here we were going to make her BBQ. When we
arrived whe told her and her family the story of our weekend in Windsor
and the, coup de gras, our trip back from Put-in-Bay. A week later
Michelle informed me that friends of her family, beached their 54 foot
Carver in the bay by Perry's Monument due to the wind conditions that
day. Said Carver was complete with twin engines (of course) and a bow
thruster.

We told my dad about our story. He looked at me laughed and said: "You're
an idiot." Looked at my brother, smiled, and said: "You're an idiot for
going with him!" I said: "We had a GPS two VHF radios, a cell phone,
life jackets on, and were in familiar waters in bad weather Besides,
before Richard was born, we had been out in the similar conditions on a
smaller boat!". No further comment was made, except "Well... okay. Just
be careful."


Bob Dimond