Last weekend, Jaime and I went out to what her family affectionately calls ‘the glen’. It’s a common hangout for boaters in the area, a small springs somewhere off the side of a large lake that’s connected to a number of water ways that connect back to the St. Johns at some point.

Saturday was absolutely perfect weather for hanging out on the water. We were (as is usual there) surrounded by other boats full of people having a good time. We chilled in the cool water, sunned ourselves on the boat, and took quick naps in the small cabin near the prow for shade. All in all a very relaxing and enjoyable day on the boat.

Of course the most common activity in the glen is people watching. We would sit and watch people in other boats, the people in the water, the children diving and splashing, frisbee throwers nearly causing fights from inaccuracy, and a nice chatter of noise settled throughout. Available for rent from an enterprising businessman–who also sold boiled peanuts and ice cones–were small personal prepulsion devices. Modified versions of models developed for scuba diving, the motors would scoot kids and adults about at a leisurely rate in the water, often towing friends in innertubes, or chains of people around the water ways.

The owner of one of the largest boats there owned his own couple of scooters and I noticed he appeared to be one of the older people using the device in the water. Except he wasn’t using it to drive around like everyone else. He would simple drop in the water behind his boat, start up the motor and hold it under water in front of himself for a while. At first I assumed he was merely checking the device, or clearing it out, but as we watched, he settled into a routine. He would start the motor, hunch over it for a while, moving around slightly, but generally staying in place, and then eventually he might leisurely scoot about a bit, returning to the boat and shutting the device off. A few minutes later, he’d repeat the proccess. Sometimes he would move up and down the length of the boat, so we assume he was cleaning his boat. However, when we first noticed him in this process, it sure looked like he was cleaning his boat. I’m still undecided as to which vessel was being scrubbed, the situation was so ambiguous. Even more amusing was that apparently everyone in the boat next to us noticed him doing the same thing and had the same thought, except their conversation was a little better lubricated with alcohol, so we could see their reaction was exactly what ours was, though much less restrained; they started cracking up.

All in all, it seems like a lot of trouble to go through just to clean your boat, but I guess when you’re old and retired and have such a large schooner, you do what it takes to maintain it.

Posted by Jordan on Friday, June 20th, 2003 at 10:43 pm.