Boating

Excerpt from “Someone Else’s Diary, Vol. II”
By Ree

Matthew 14:29-30 …Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"

I’ve never been afraid of boats…I grew up riding a ferry boat back and forth from Drummond Island to DeTour, often invited into the captain’s chair to steer. I knew where the life preservers were kept, knew how to swim, and I loved to lean over the side of the boat and look into the green, sparkling water of the St. Mary’s River. In the winter, I would watch huge ice chunks float out of the way of the ice breaker, and in fall, the crash of high waves over the railing. I loved riding in speed boats, row boats, canoes…it didn’t matter. Growing up around water meant that boats were a natural part of my life.

My perception changed quite a bit one summer, as I went tubing with my brother on his boat several years ago. Although only in my thirties, I had lost a bit of my edge as far as balance and grace were concerned, not to mention flexibility. I had this unreasonable fear of sitting all the way down in the tube, fearing that my behind would get stuck, I would flip over and not be able to loose myself, and drown. So every time Dan would hit high waves, I would pop out of the tube into the water. He would circle around, I would climb back into the boat, pull in the tube and while he held the rope, I would reach my leg out to set my foot in the tube, then grab hold and slide back in.

Unfortunately, in doing so, I had crouched on one leg, and with the fiberglass wet and slippery, my foot slipped out from under me and I landed on the cleat, which punctured the back of my leg. I had nothing to grab, and so slid off into the water, with the cleat tearing a huge gash in my leg. 16 stitches and several vicodin later, my boating was over for that season.

The following summer I was out with a friend boating. We decided to return to shore to use the facilities. He ran the boat up on the beach, and I stepped up to the bow, and then attempted a very graceful jump onto the sand. My foot landed on the only patch of wet grass for a mile, I slipped and sprained my ankle. Walking cast and several vicodin later, I was again out for the season.

It concerns me that boating figures prominently in the New Testament as several of the disciples were fishermen. Often times Christianity is referred to as being in a boat in a storm. While the analogy is accurate, it makes me nervous. Boating isn’t as easy as one may think it is. There are hidden cleats and grass clumps everywhere. One must be careful in exiting a boat.

And for those who criticize Peter for jumping out of the boat and sinking after he started out walking on the water, speaking from personal experience, getting out of a boat is treacherous. I applaud Peter. At least he didn’t break, cut, or sprain anything when he got out. All he did was react to high waves and crashing thunder. He took his gaze off Jesus for an instant and began to sink...and he knew enough to cry out immediately to his Lord to save him. If it had been me, I’d have tripped over something trying to get out in the first place.