15. 'In the Water': Ei buddy! Are you ready?!

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It was the first time I had ever climbed aboard a yacht and, on top of that, one towed by an old pickup truck like Darren’s, a 2008 Ford F150. Old, but it did its job wonderfully. In fact, it pulled us out of a real bind, and a nasty one at that, as I will detail in the next chronicle. I settled in at the back, at the stern of the boat and on the port side, and we began the descent toward Lake Cumberland down a road that, from my point of view, looked like a river, a river without water. You could say we went surfing over potholes and asphalt, between forest and houses, bushes and vehicles. The Ford was driven by Seth, with Darren riding beside him. In the back, up on the boat: Alyssa, Hunter, Katelyn, Sheila, and yours truly. The feeling was delightful, more than pleasant. I felt like I was in one of those presidential parades, only swapping the tall buildings for great trees, with no crowd at all, and riding on the back of a boat that, instead of sailing, rolled.

As soon as we reached the boat ramp, Seth carried out the proper approach maneuvers so that the trailer would back down behind the vehicle, in reverse, and slide along the ramp where, once ‘in the water‘, they would release the boat. I felt the exact moment when the wheels of the trailer disappeared beneath the watery mantle and our bodies broke away from land. The feeling of weightlessness took me over completely, and a slight swaying ended up confirming it.

Seth had submerged almost a third of the pickup, and I, who was watching the whole maneuver from behind, feared that water would get in through the exhaust pipe, the engine would flood, and the vehicle would stall. However, they had it all more than studied and measured. As soon as they freed the boat, the pickup’s powerful V6 engine began its ascent and climbed out without a problem (see video 1). Darren took the helm of the yacht, and a few meters farther on we picked up Seth.

With the crew complete, the seven of us friends set sail toward the depths of the immense lake, a course entirely uncertain for me, since I had not the faintest idea of the place we were heading to or what I would find there. Suspense, at times, becomes an incentive.

Suspense, at times, becomes an incentive.

They had talked about a party, and I was already picturing the typical wooden cabin where, at night, one by one, we would go dropping like flies at the hands of some madman with a mask and his chainsaw. I had watched far too many movies. However, what my own eyes would later glimpse would escape any possible description. The thing is, everything was so new, so intense, that even the roar of the very wind sounded different to me. It was a continuous dance of sensations.

everything was so new, so intense, that even the roar of the very wind sounded different to me.

The yacht’s engine began to roar as soon as we pulled away from the no-wake zone. I felt how the hull lifted and the speed increased considerably until it brushed 45 or 50 miles per hour (about 80 km/h). Suddenly, music started blasting from the boat’s speakers and I was left even more dumbfounded (see video 2 and video 3). The speakers were high quality, and the songs as good as they were ideal for the crossing. I felt free, in full communion with the aquatic immensity, the music, the wind, the friends, and a beer I had just cracked open, what more could you ask for?

I felt free, in full communion with the aquatic immensity, the music, the wind, the friends, and a beer I had just cracked open, what more could you ask for?

The water was quite dark, not so much from the depth as from the reflection of the overcast gray sky that threatened imminent rain. The temperature was pleasant, although a strong wind was beginning to pick up. Right at my side they had placed a big portable cooler, loaded with beers and other elixirs. It was an obvious lure that I did not neglect. I took to opening a second can and testing yet another new flavor, all of them made in USA, and honestly, with all due respect, I prefer the ones made in Spain. Perhaps it was my unadapted palate that made them seem strange to me, as if they lacked a certain sobriety, too aromatic, but who was I to be filing complaints, with a nice cold beer, out for a ride on a yacht and in the best of company. No words.

Seth took the controls of the speed machine and pushed the throttle lever even higher. At that, my body finished embedding itself into the seatback and I began looking for any handhold, like a soul fleeing the devil. I did not want to be flung into a lake that commanded respect. The driving started to be anything but easy, since we had to keep facing the waves which, whether from the wind or passed along by other boats, rammed our bow violently and continuously, causing slight wobbles and little ‘hops‘ that did not help at all with handling the yacht, destabilizing our course and the contents of my beer can. Seth began to play with the waves, and the little boat jumped more and more. Katelyn and Alyssa were riding in the bow, so their sensation must have been, if possible, even more spectacular. I stayed all the way at the back, on the left, appeased and submissive before whatever nature might send us. I could clearly see the swells coming. I could even predict the exact moment of impact, but I was in no position to keep watch on the water and miss the gorgeous scenes that ecosystem was gifting us.

appeased and submissive before whatever nature might send us.

Weeks later I found out that the lake was artificial, that is, formed by man. They built it to prevent the continual flooding the region suffered from the immense flow the Cumberland River supplies the area with, especially in the season of torrential rains. So they built a great dam, thereby solving the problem and creating, in turn, an important leisure and tourism area for the people of Kentucky and its neighboring states (Tennessee, North Carolina, Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois). Although Hunter and Alyssa came all the way from Pennsylvania, so it could well be a draw for any place.

Taking advantage of the reservoir the dam created, they built, at the dock we set out from, a large marina with all kinds of water activities and one of the most important fleets of houseboats, most of which are offered for rent. Let’s say it could be something like the Benidorm of Kentucky, only without the beach or the beach bars serving sardine skewers off the grill. These and many other secrets, such as its great submerged town, its solitary wooded coves or its virgin, wild cliffs accompanied by spectacular waterfalls, await the adventurer on this immense lake, one of the largest in the eastern United States, for as Darren told me, it has more than 1,000 miles of shoreline and many more magical places to discover. Honestly, you could never run out of it.

Let’s say it could be something like the Benidorm of Kentucky, only without the beach or the beach bars serving sardine skewers off the grill.

Well, as I was saying, between the pounding of the waves and my eagerness not to miss a thing of the incredible moment I was living, I decided to stow my phone in my pocket, lest it end up, in such a ridiculous fashion, at the bottom of the lake. On the other hand, I did keep the can of beer in my hand, though the pressing swell that was rising, and the danger of it going overboard or spilling all over the deck, made me opt to drink it down promptly, in two short gulps. ‘The perils of doing it live,’ I told myself. And ‘bzzzt‘: colossal blunder. It was the worst thing I could have done, and here the more expert reader will already guess why. In my stomach I began to feel something like a raging party where happy hour and the open bar went hand in hand. Everything bubbled back up in me, and with the constant jostling, that yacht was becoming more of a fairground ride, exactly like a cross between La Rana Loca and El Platillo Volante. I began bouncing more than a toad, and the seasickness became evident. Clearly, there was no hopping off there, not even for five minutes. I had to hold on and steel my guts. And since guts were the theme, I went from seasickness to anguish, and from anguish to nausea. ‘My kingdom for some Dramamine, for a rest stop along the way, for a UFO to abduct me!’ implored my helpless self. Then it occurred to me to get up and move to the middle seat. My mother always tells me that on boats you have to sit in the middle; otherwise, you get seasick. Hunter gave up the spot without a problem, and my face? A pale poem. But once again: ‘bzzzt‘: grave error. As soon as I sat down I began to salivate, and the nausea got promoted to retching, or the warning of it. Of course, with all the rattling it did not even show. I could already glimpse the shameful denouement. I looked back for a moment and calculated that the vomit would not only coat the boat’s deck but, at the speed we were going, would hit the faces of Hunter and Sheila (the wife of Darren, no less), who were sitting right at the back, with their eyes closed and focused on the relaxation the rush of the wind gave them. Should the fateful incident occur, I knew it would cost me my friendship with them and nothing would ever be the same again. On top of that, part of the prize would go precisely to the innocent Hunter, who hours earlier had gifted me that hope I comically named ‘The lucky balloon‘ (read chronicle 13. ‘In the Water’: Just in case). So, I had no wish to see myself as the girl from The Exorcist, baptizing half the crew; and even less, estranged, almost for life, from Hunter, no, please! As a last resort, and in a stoic effort, I began to swallow air, to see if that way I would implode and the difficult moment would be cut short. All I could do now was watch them come.

that yacht was becoming more of a fairground ride, exactly like a cross between La Rana Loca and El Platillo Volante.

and I calculated that the vomit would not only coat the boat’s deck but, at the speed we were going, would hit the faces of Hunter and Sheila (the wife of Darren, no less), who were sitting right at the back, with their eyes closed and focused on the relaxation the rush of the wind gave them.

Then, something unexpected happened. The hard lash of a bad wave hit us head-on, and so virulently that it produced a dry, terrifying sound. The blow left me even more dazed. I felt that if I did not die drowned in my own vomit, like Jimi Hendrix, perhaps I would drown all the same, only in the lake. I got scared the hull might have cracked: taking on water out there would have been the worst. Seth slowed down and stopped to check, together with Darren, for possible structural damage. The boat was still afloat and we were all whole and accounted for, except for my face, which was like that of a pale imploded zombie. I could not even speak. I made an ‘ok‘ gesture, raising my thumb as best I could, and after a few brief minutes at the mercy of the swell, Darren started the engine again and we continued on course toward that unknown place, of which all I wanted now was to set foot on dry land.

a bad wave hit us head-on, and so virulently that it produced a dry, terrifying sound.

And since these things never come in twos without a third, nor in threes without a fourth, shortly after we got going again, a new event befell us. It was as unexpected as it was disturbing. A new conspiracy of Mother Nature to pull me, perhaps, out of the intoxicated state I was in. It turns out that a chilling black cloud appeared on our right flank. Apparently we coincided with its path, and the only thing we could do was push on and get past it as soon as possible. The immense curtain of the downpour was already unloading on the forest we had to our right, and the first drops warned us of what was coming down on us. Its arrival was instantaneous, and in a matter of seconds I felt as if the sky itself were collapsing before us. The noise of the rain crashing violently against the lake and the boat was sublime above any other. The yacht began filling with water and everyone, with their hoods and towels, ran to take shelter under the small awning that by now was more of a shower. I tried to cover myself with my backpack, but it only served to dump more water on me, so I hunkered down against the glass of the copilot’s seat and used it as a ‘windbreak‘ and a ‘rainbreak‘, if you will allow me the expression. Darren adjusted his cap and hit the gas. The speed we picked up again was maximum, supreme, ‘turbo-grade‘, and the feeling of impact even greater. The sooner we got out of that devilish zone, the sooner we could live to tell about it. And personally, if all of that served me for anything, it was to snap me awake and switch from ‘implosive zombie‘ mode to ‘moribund and convalescing’.

so I hunkered down against the glass of the copilot’s seat and used it as a ‘windbreak‘ and a ‘rainbreak‘,

As soon as we got past the terrible threat (see video 4), certain clearings began to open on the horizon, through which the sun, timidly, began to show itself. Dozens of boats were also heading in our same direction. Modest boats went by, yachts bigger and smaller, and even some super-luxury speedboats, valued at millions of dollars and equivalent to what Formula 1 cars would be today. Now that was some roaring. As a joke, Darren pointed at the wake of one as it passed and said, counting with his finger: –One gallon! two gallons! three gallons!…– to mock the enormous amount of fuel that beast must have been burning. However, a new lesson settled upon my intellect, and it is that less and less did that kind of pomposity and exhibitionism appeal to me; on the contrary, it served to reaffirm me even more in my modest convictions of a taste for the simple and the pleasant, the plain and natural. In this way, I began to lean more toward gratitude and other kinds of values, more suitable and fitting for our kind, such as peace, friendship, humility, generosity, and, in short, everything that helps achieve a coexistence that is peaceful, harmonious, and loving, both with the planet and with the race we are part of today.

a new lesson settled upon my intellect, and it is that less and less did that kind of pomposity and exhibitionism appeal to me; on the contrary, it served to reaffirm me even more in my modest convictions of a taste for the simple and the pleasant, the plain and natural.

The tremendous crossing, which was really more like a movie, full of anecdotes and surprises, was coming to its end. The sun now gave us, at last, its warm welcome, as if it had been for beating the difficult level of a video game. Darren slowed down as soon as we began running into a greater number of boats already moving at our same pace, speed, and direction.

as if it had been for beating the difficult level of a video game.

In a straight line and about one nautical mile away (some two kilometers), I began to make out what looked like our longed-for destination: a mega-gathering of yachts and barges that were assembling in one of the coves of the lake. Something was cooking there. A mega-party? On the water? Just then Seth turned around and, with an effusive look on his face, said to me: –Ei buddy! Are you ready?!–.

–Ei buddy! Are you ready?!–.

– Next installment, Saturday, April 27, 2024. Chronicle 16. ‘In the Water’: Party on the Lake