There is an old saying like looking for a needle in a haystack. Fortunately, I have never had to try to find a needle in a haystack, but I have had to find an anchor on the bottom of the lake. The purpose of my essay is to describe the frustration of searching a mucky shoreline for an escaped boat anchor.
It was a bright sunny day in the middle of July. Luckily, there were few clouds in the sky and perfect weather for fishing. Therefore, Jon and I were headed to the lake in my 2004 silver Chevy Silverado truck, where we would meet Jimmy to go fishing. Even though we arrived at the boat landing well before Jimmy, we got my 14-foot camouflage Alumacraft boat off the trailer. Additionally, the boat was hooked up to my silver Chevy Silverado
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Also, the brand new black rubber coated anchor was attached to a brand new thin white braided rope that scorched the skin off your hand when it was pulled up. Instead of dropping the brand new anchor, he grabbed with one hand and chucked it overboard, like he was in a throwing competition. Granted, Jon was eating an apple while he tossed the anchor out. After he did that, I told Jon, “That’s how you lose an anchor.” He laughed and looked at where he tossed the anchor. On my first few casts, I did not catch anything, so I told Jon to pull the anchor up. While he was in the process of pulling the anchor up, I caught another midget sunfish and told him, “Nevermind keep it down there.” At this moment, he let the anchor back down to the bottom. After a couple more casts without a fish, I told Jon to re-pull the anchor. Formally, he grabbed the rope and pulled it up so fast that the clip the anchor was attached to sailed out of the water, like a dolphin jumping out of the water. Instantly, Jon grabbed the rope and turned to look at me. Of course, he had a blank look on his face, his jaw was dropped, and he was lost for words. All of the sudden, we rattled off a series of questions to each other, and finally, I told Jon, “Find the anchor or 40 bucks.” Quickly, Jon took his phone and wallet out of his pockets and jumped overboard. The Hummingbird fish finder I had attached …show more content…
Eventually, I held the paddle in one hand and submerged my head underneath the water, like a submarine. With my feet, I felt a w-shaped object and a rubber coating around the object. Instantly, I knew I found it; now the only problem would be getting the 40-pound object out of 6 and a half feet of water. Once Jon got over to the spot, I gave him my paddle and life jacket to attempt to grab the w-shaped anchor. On my first attempted dive, I could not find the anchor with my hands, all I felt was the soft silky sand. On my second dive, I yanked the w-shaped anchor from the sand, as if it was a trap door. After that, I propelled my way up to about four inches underneath the surface of the water. Suddenly I started to run out of breath, so I lobbed the 40-pound w-shaped anchor through the water towards the shore. When I reached the surface, I was gasping for air, trying to catch my breath, like a dog after a run on a hot
In this story, Will remembers that his mother chose to rent a row-boat instead of a canoe because “a row-boat was safer” (233). The irony strikes the reader when their row-boat collides with a rock and springs a leak, causing the children to fear for their lives. In the more current story, Harlen and Luise convince Will to purchase a canoe so that they can all go boating together. In the inaugural trip, though, the canoe began to take on water. After Harlen urges him to start bailing water, Will realizes that “[they] didn’t have anything to bail with” (235), and soon, the canoe flips, sending Harlen and Will into a stream of rapids....
After Louie catches an Albatross and successfully uses the meat as bait, the narrator describes an idea that Louie hopes will solve their hunger problem in the absence of bait. After creating a device out of the fishing line and hooks, Louie is able to catch the first pilot fish he sees. This instance reveals Louie’s extreme resourcefulness. Using pure creativity, Louie is able to temporarily solve a seemingly unsolvable problem. In a situation wherein having bait is dependent on nature, Louie flips the dependence onto himself.
...as hurriedly approaching my toes. I clinched my toes deeper in the sand to prepare myself to get annihilated by the wave’s white water. But, of course, it was just the familiar feeling of the cool rush between my feet as they sunk deeper into the sand. Scanning the water vigorously, I tippy toed my way out into bottomless ocean. Remembering the feeling of the tingle and than burn, I peered back to see my beach chair waiting for me in the scorching sun. While I contemplated turning around and heading back to my safe place. I continued on. I continued to walk forward. I did not stop once the water passed my waist. I would not let the phobia of jellyfish hold me back from the once place I loved the most. As the water washed over the tips of my hair, warm memories of my past fled into my mind. I let my once again peach colored toes disappear deeper into the blue water.
Once upon a time, in a cabin far away, it was Halloween night October 31st 1973. A group of friends decided to go to a cabin in the woods to celebrate their favorite holiday together. Busses packed full of people were going to the party that me and Skyler had planned. We invited almost the whole school. Finally after hours of searching for our final destination we arrived. Skyler and I were the first to be at that raggedy torn down cabin. We brought the lights and the beers and the snacks , we spent hours and hours of decorating and setting up finally Andy showed up to help with all the heavy work.
We arrived in Lake Oswego and as a group decided to head to a popular place known as barrels. Barrels is roughly 40 feet above the water. Lots of people were there and it was a fun time. After a few minutes of standing around, I decided to make the plunge. Slowly, I climbed on top of the railing and looked over the sparkling blue water below. Inside my head, I counted down from five and my feet left the earth and were gliding through the air rapidly towards the water. My feet hit the water and shock overcame my body. The icy water chilled me as I clawed to reach the surface. As I hit the surface of the water, I smiled. I had conquered the first jump and I knew I could survive twenty-five more feet.
Page 151: “Her fishing equipment was innovative also; she appeared to have no creel or equipage or container of any kind apart form her pole and line and whatever was on the end of it. There was the possibility of a few spare hooks or leaders in the pockets of the fraction of blue jeans …but the theory grew tenuous…As to the possibility of fishing tackle concealed with in the sky-colored t-shirt, this was even less likely. Nevertheless I considered the problem long and carefully, scanning every least curve of the thin material, reluctant to give up the search.”
“Hey kids come on get in!” My dad yelled across the parking lot. Reilly, Olivia and I were going camping with our dads just for the weekend. We got in the car and began our 2 hour drive to Hocking Hills. It was a boring drive, and we were cramped in the back with all of the camping gear, tents, food, clothes, bedding. Eventually we got to the campground and set up our tents. It was a nice cozy little area. We had woods all around us except in front of us where the car was. Reilly, Olivia and my tent was in the middle of our dads’ tents. After we had everything set up we did some exploring in the woods. We didn’t know what secrets it held.
I pressed the pier section hard into the ice so it would not slide forward when Dad pulled on the rope. The people on land were shouting encouragement, although none had ventured out. Dad began to haul himself out of the water, then seemed to remember something” (par. 44). Here Roger could have tied the rope wrong so when his dad went to pull on it he would have to pull himself up again, but doesn't have enough energy to do so.
As we pulled out of my parents driveway, the circumstances seemed very surreal. My entire way of life had been turned upside down with only a few hours consideration. I was very much “at sea” in the ...
Fishing tests your patience; if you want to catch a fish, you’re going to have to wait. I dip my feet into the icy water of the river and wait, wait, wait. I feel relaxed, surrounded by nature, but the air around me is also buzzing with the excitement. Goats graze on the grass that grows atop the rocky cliff across from me, and a gentle breeze whispers through the ivy that drapes over it. My hands are gripped tightly around my rod, ready to reel up my first catch, ready for the weight of a monster fish, ready for anything. Out of nowhere, I feel the slightest tug on my line and see a flash of rainbow scales beneath the water. I see my fishing rod bending with weight, which could mean only one thing: FISH ON! I begin to reel it in, inch by inch. The trout flies out of the water, glistening as the setting sun reflects off of its scales. The sky is ablaze, full of different shades of magenta, orange, and scarlet. It was as if an artist had painted the sky with the skillful strokes of their paintbrush. I hear my parents gasp with awe behind me. The first
The adventure began with a cold winter morning in florid, Uncle Bob and I decided to head out to his secret spot, the dive site was roughly 100ft and a Spanish Galleon laid rest. My dad dropped me off at the boat dock where I met up with Uncle Bob. We did a gear check to make sure we had everything to complete our dive. After the gear check, we headed out, after a couple
As we started to slowly drift down the river, seemingly inch by inch, I began to have feelings of disappointment. I had been planning on a more hazardous and fast-paced ride. The water was crystal clear and almost as flat as a sheet of glass. There was only a very mild current and being as impatient as I was, it appeared to me that we weren’t even moving.
The lonely empty silence is overpowered by a wall of foam rushing towards me. Wheels of sand are churning beneath my feet. My golden locks are flattened and hunched over my head to form a thick curtain over my eyes. Light ripples are printed against my olive stomach as the sun beams through the oceans unsteadiness. I look below me and can’t see where the sand bank ends; I look above and realize it’s a long way to the top. Don’t panic Kate, you’ll get through this. I try to paddle to the top but am halted by something severely weighing me down- My board. That’s what got me in this mess in the first place. I can see the floral pattern peeping through the sand that is rapidly crawling over it. I quickly rip apart the Velcro of my foot strap and watch my board float to the surface effortlessly as I attempt climbing through the water to reach the surface. The fin of my board becomes more visible to me as I ascend. Finally, an alleviating sensation blasts through my mouth.
I will never forget the first time I went snorkeling, it was something I had been afraid to do up until the moment I touched the water. Beforehand all I could think about was what if I got attacked by a shark? I was too young to die and I felt like I was tempting fate. Then once I made the plunge into the water everything washed away, as if the waves carried the fear with them as they folded over me. I remember that day so clearly, rocking back and forth, up and down, I sat on a small glass bottom boat. The enormous ocean waves making me nauseas as I put my snorkel gear on. I hurried as fast as I could, knowing my nausea would go away as soon as I entered the water. This wasn’t the first time I have gotten sea sick, but it only shows up when the boat is sitting still. As soon as I got my equipment on I jumped into the water, fins first. I felt the sensation of goose bumps shivering up my whole body, tiny bubbles rolling over my body from breaking the surface, they ran from my toes upwards to break free at the ocean’s surface. Once the bubbles cleared, I looked around to see a new blue world I have never experienced before. I heard the sound of the ocean, mumbled by the sound of my deep breathing and the tanks of the more experienced scuba divers below me. It’s a very relaxing and peaceful sound, and if I had not been in such a new and unusual place I could have floated with my eyes closed for hours.
Rolling waves gently brushed upon the sand and nipped softly at my toes. I gazed out into the oblivion of blue hue that lay before me. I stared hopefully at sun-filled sky, but I couldn’t help but wonder how I was going to get through the day. Honestly, I never thought in a million years that my daughter and I would be homeless. Oh, how I yearned for our house in the suburbs. A pain wrenched at my heart when I was once reminded again of my beloved husband, Peter. I missed him so much and couldn’t help but ask God why he was taken from us. Living underneath Pier 14 was no life for Emily and me. I had to get us out of here and back on our feet. My stomach moaned angrily. I needed to somehow find food for us, but how? Suddenly, something slimy brushed up against my leg and pierced my thoughts. I jumped back and brushed the residue of sand of my legs. What was that? As my eyes skimmed the water in front of me, I noticed something spinning in the foam of the waves. Curiosity got the best of me and I went over to take a closer look. The object danced in the waves and eventually was coughed out onto the beach. “Emily!” I called to my eight-year-old daughter who was, at that time, infatuated with a seashell that she found earlier that day. “Come here and see this! Mommy found something.” Although I had no idea what that something was and I definitely didn’t know it would change my life forever.