Just a frog on the Lilly Pad

Fall weather, good wine... there is no better way to spend a fall day. I got an opportunity to spend some time with my friends on their boat on the Potomac River. I hope you enjoy this story, and the pictures that go along with it. Dave ************************************************************************************* Friends Paul and Pam Bosch invited me to enjoy an afternoon on their boat. Although the November evenings had been cool, the daytime temperature was in the upper 60’s. They told me to bring a heavy jacket and a hat, because it would be cold on the water. I met them at in Stafford at Hope springs Marina. As we were boarding, someone stopped and asked them about the name of their boat. I hadn’t noticed but it was not painted on the back and apparently this is bad form in the world of boaters. Paul paused for a second as if he hadn’t considered the question before and then blurted out “The Lilly Pad.” It was an obvious description of his power boat with green top and green markings. Theirs is a beautiful 27 foot boat with a cabin down below. The cuddy has a full Galley; a Head; seating and sleeping for at least 4. A month had passed since they had taken the boat out and the spiders had taken nest. As we unzipped the windows of the bimini, spiders of all sizes were startled that we were moving into their comfortable spaces but with a flick and a foul word, they were gone. With the boat cranked up, Pam and Paul worked together to get the boat out of the slip and we slowly began moving out of the protection of Aquia Creek. At the helm Paul brought the boat up to speed, its big engine began to hum and the deep brown water of the Potomac sparkled as a bright, crisp cusp of shimmering wake in the sunshine. A smile on his face, gave hint that he was more than happy to be back on the water. We sped across the river to the cliffs of the opposite shore. With no protection from the wind, the water in the river was choppy but the big boat plowed unhindered through the waves. The sky was deep blue and sun beat down. Most of the leaves had fallen from the trees, but patches still held the bright colored reminders of how beautiful this fall had been. We anchored. Pam prepared a tray of cheese and crackers, while I opened a bottle of wine. Paul made jokes the implied that Wine and cheese were more appropriate for a sail boat instead of his fossil fuel burning water missile. We sat here for an hour or more in the breeze and sunlight watching the wildlife and talking about everything and nothing at all. As the sun began to set we decided to head back to the creek. In the creek the water was smooth and what was left of the sun reflected beautifully. The dark blues of twilight were pushing the sun back into the horizon. Slowly it disappeared making the color of the sky change from bright yellow then to orange and then to gone. This is when Paul allowed me to take the helm. I navigated the boat slowly through the creek. It was 40 feet from shore to shore with a deep channel in the middle of the winding waterway. With the sun gone, Paul’s knowledge of the area and the lights of the homes on shore allowed us to navigate. The stern of the boat yawed from left to right as I steered us deeper into darkness. The temperature had turned cold and it was time to trade the sunglasses and shirtsleeves for warm fleece and stocking cap. We traveled for a long while till we reached a spot that allowed us an opportunity to turn around. Paul maneuvered the boat and began back down the creek heading towards the marina. Without being behind the wheel, I was able to see that people were out. Some were fishing, and some on shore were allowing a bonfire to stave off the chill that was settling in. As we slowly motored home, I couldn’t help but feel smug. There was no better way to spend a fall day than with friends on the water. Like frogs on the Lilly Pad.