Swamping a Boat
If memory serves, I believe it was somewhere around 1990 when in our infinite wisdom we decided that if we fished Buck Bay, we would win the Big Bass. Before daylight three boats consisting of Tom "Catfish the Younger" and Tim "Killer" Hooper in the Cajun, Tracy "WooWoo" and Torey "Wojo" Hooper in the Kingfisher and Johnny "Keeper of the Flame" Baker with his brother "Ken "Gravel Face" Baker in the Nitro, all headed for Buck Bay. The lake was calm and no problems were encountered. The fishing was good but not good enough to win Big Bass. A few hours later it was discovered that the Cajun had developed a crack and was taking water but not so fast as to inhibit the fun being enjoyed by all.. A little later in the day all left Buck Bay to re-deploy on Needmore Point. The lake was a little more rough on the trip but not too bad. The old Cajun had begun to take water at a slightly increased rate but being pioneer spirited anglers, we weren't worried; yet. A little later in the afternoon the three boats were separated and as the lake was beginning to get a little on the rough side, we decided to take the Cajun back to camp. As we headed towards camp it was realized that not only were we taking water through the leak, but that even more water was being shipped over the bow. The small bilge pump was put into continuous use and Tim was pressed into duty to corral the tackle boxes which were starting to float around in the bottom of the boat. We both had a good laugh at that. Very shortly it was noted that the bilge pump's heart was obviously not in the task at hand and the water began to rise. Tim's job got a little more difficult but he managed to secure the tackle boxes with a couple of dip nets, a stringer or two, and a few life jacket belts. We still thought this great sport. Very shortly the bilge pump put up the white flag and I turned it off. No need in wasting battery power. At this time we were pretty much awash with waves coming and going in and out of the boat at will. We laughingly talked of how embarrassing it would be to actually need rescue. But as I said earlier, were weren't worried. At this time we probably were not making more than 1-2 knots and Tim suggested I speed up. I quickly informed him the damned motor was running wide open. I think he may have noted a slight amount of stress in my voice because a few minutes later after surveying the water rushing in and out of the boat (we're talking 3-4 foot waves here folks) he calmly looked over at me and said "we're not going to make it are we"? I calmly replied "nope".
Meanwhile back on shore, Jim, who was laying in the shallow water on a chaise lounge drinking margaritas noticed a speck on the horizon barely moving. He alerted Tracy and some of the others. They couldn't tell what it was but over the next 30 minutes or so kept an eye on it. After said time they could make out that it was a boat and that it was us. They all had a good laugh jumping around like idiots when contrary to both of our opinions, the intrepid Cajun grounded on the beach. Tim and I calmly stepped out, walked up to the campsite and opened a beer. The boat wasn't going anywhere and it took the better part of an hour the following day to get it emptied of water. The crack was repaired with steel wool and J-B Weld and we fished the next afternoon.
A side bar to this story is that Tracy decided to load his boat. He backed out and headed forward. The only problem was that all the water that had ended up inside his boat rushed to the stern and he promptly sank in about 3 ft. of water. In all there were 17 or 18 boats sunk that weekend.