You can always depend on the kindness of strangers

This weekend we learned about the kindness of strangers. This ought to take care of 1, 2, 4, 10, and 12 from my last post.

Incident #1
The keys for the boat did not come with us to the cottage. Faced with a 2.5-hour round-trip excursion to get the keys, the Captain remembered the former owners of the boat (also on the island) had a spare they were supposed to return to us. Luckily, they were at their cottage when we called! Fraser drove over in his pontoon boat and gave us a key to start the boat. If we didn't feel guilty enough for dragging him across the lake to rescue us, we learned that he was fast asleep when we called because he's recovering from pneumonia. Ugh. We're grateful all the same. Total wait time: 15 minutes.

Incident #2
As we puttered out of Wood Duck Marina towards the island, we got out into the open part of the lake when the engine cut out. Odd. The Captain started the boat up again, and we travelled for another minute or so when it cut out again. "I think we're out of gas." He speculates. And he was correct. *face palm*
Fortunately we had filled up the jerry can en route to the cottage and were taking it over to the island this trip. Otherwise, we'd have remained adrift in the middle of the lake. While the gas tank was being refilled and the oil added to the mix, someone from shore puttered over in their aluminum boat to see if we needed a hand. We were fine, but still, Nice!

Incident #3
We realized the breaker for the hot water tank was left on when there was no water in the tank because the pump still hadn't been hooked up. End result: fried element in the tank. Dang-it. Luckily, one of our newly acquired neighbours heard of our plight and said "Oh! I have a spare one. Hang on and I'll get it for you." A short time later the tank was hooked up with the new element  installed and we had hot water. So Doug, if you ever read this, Thank You! Of course we'll need to replace the one he loaned to us and buy a spare ourselves, but in the short term I am not going to complain. Now, as part of "leaving the cottage activities" we need to remember to throw the breaker for the hot-water tank and unplug the pump. Unplugging the pump is wise if there's ever a plumbing problem when we're not there (in the Hodge Podge Lodge with D-I-Y plumbing throughout? A problem!? Never......); if a leak does occur, it will only leak the water that remains in the pipes, rather than leaking continuously.

Incident #4
The Damned Boat.
First the key. Then the gas. Lastly, when we were about to leave for home, we loaded up all of our belongings and bag after bag of trash and then the boat wouldn't start. We were marooned!
(Everybody wave to the captain, partially adrift and frustrated in a boat that wouldn't start). We heard our other neighbour Ron puttering around his cottage and asked for some help troubleshooting the motor. Nothing they tried seemed to help. It was getting fuel, the spark plug was sparking, it was turning over but it just wasn't firing for some reason! They gave up and we headed inside for an impromptu dinner of "whatever is left in the cooler". Mmmmm. Nourishment. Vegetable soup. Raw carrots. A bit of cooked rice, and half a cup of milk. The captain tried calling Marvin at the marina and the local boat mechanic, but we couldn't reach either. Looks like we're spending the night.

Incident #5
(no photo for this, my energy was sapped. Enjoy a view from the porch in the meantime)

Just as I was washing up after dinner, Ron popped by the kitchen window asking if we'd had any luck. Since we hadn't, he offered to shuttle us back to the marina. So. Nice. Ron, if you or May are ever reading this: Thank You! We left the boat full of junk behind, tied up to our rickety dock and we got back to the marina around 8:30 p.m. So. Late.

We quickly drove to Port Hope to drop off the spare boat key with dad. He offered to head back up to the lake on Monday to go over and try to get the boat started himself. (hooray for rescue dad!) He's convinced the engine is just flooded. I hope he's right! We've heard stories about muskrats gnawing through exposed gas lines, and we have a little rat living under our dock. If he chewed our line, I'm going to brain him with an oar. But I have to go buy an oar first. It'll be very cathartic.

UPDATE: No muskrats will be harmed in the making of this blog! Dad has been to the boat and of course (of course) it started first try for him. I think motors can smell fear. Muskrats, too.