I had decided to join my friends for a boat trip to Hope, one of Georgian Bay’s beautifully raw islands. They arrived in a large steel boat, which seemed made for exactly that kind of venture. On the front deck on the boat, thee was a stack of plastic Muskoka chairs, one of which, after encouragement through the captain, I chose to use as my seat for the trip.
Hm, surprisingly comfy, I’m thinking, but something feels strange. Never mind, we’re off through the denser inner waterways that take us to the open. Georgian Bay presents itself stunning as often, cottages, boats, a sunny day with steady headwind. After a few turns the last islands off the shore are behind us, in front only lake, large as the ocean, in far distance on the hazy horizon, the destination Hope Island.
As higher waves set in I am about to cheer “yeeehaaaw”, as the bow jumps up and down. Only I stopped at “yee” as the comforting seating surface suddenly collapses under my sublime buttocks. The plastic of the Muskoka chair lies scattered over the deck, my honey hurts. “I told you so!”, I am thinking, something had not felt right when I took a seat on the patio furniture. As the expert I should have known: boats and outdoor furniture don’t mix.