Originally Posted by hamburking
. Did you forget we took all the good islands from you in the war of 1812?
LOL. I just saw this.
Actually, you (and I'm combining Brits and Canadians here) failed to adhere to the stipulations of cessation at the end of the Revolutionary War and kept your troops in Oswego for more than a decade.
AND, despite Jay's Treaty, refused to give up Carleton Island.
Now, I refuse to agree with you concerning Canada's retention of the better islands. There are some nice islands on the NY side. However, my argument in general is weak and disappointing, so I'll not take it further.
Without jest, there really are nice islands on the US side, problem is they are privately owned and inaccessible, whereas the Canadians have done a stellar job in making their islands available to all.
Now, back on topic...
I arrived into Oswego for Harbor Fest and dropped anchor
. My mates had a three boat raft not far from me, so over I motored for the first celebratory cocktail.
No sooner did I grab the toerail I noted one of my mates was rather despondent. This was the opening hours of HarborFest, no time or place to be despondent!
He explained that after anchoring
he leaned over the transom only to have his brand new, and expensive, Oakleys head
for Davey Jones Locker. Gone forever. Now, back then Oakleys were the glasses owned by only one person you knew, rather like a Ferrari.
I asked "about where was the boat then?" "Well" he said "about here." Now, we all now what that means to an anchored boat. Even given an absolutely constant breeze-driven pull (and thus distance from) the anchor
, even a few degree swing means ten, twenty, or more meters.
"I'll go get my dive gear" I glumly resigned. "Don't bother, you'll never find them" he sadly admitted. But I did anyway.
My first dive to the bottom brought me into a tangle of weed on a muddy bottom in four meters of water
. The weeds were thick; I tried to move them, but it was soooo hard even to get a glimpse of the bottom.
Ah! There they are! I reached down to a reflective object and pulled it from the mud and weeds. Nope, a decade old beer
can. Time for air.
I surfaced with a host of bodies leaning over watching me (all, of course, enjoying their cocktails while mine was yet gestating). A wave of laughter. See! You'll never find them!
I dove a second time. Again, weeds everywhere, grabbing my arms and legs and obscuring the bottom. Again, I pulled away weeds, stirring the mud bottom.
And then- a meter away- a meter wide clearing absent of any growth. And, no kidding- a strong ray of sunshine penetrating just that hole in the aquatic forest. And, smack dab in the middle- Oakleys.
My cocktail was soon in hand, accompanied by a great hurrah.