It turned out to be a nice, sunny day after all. It had rained lightly all day but now there is no wind, the river is calm and there are few shells rowing up river.
Jimmy had the captain’s permission to take out one of the older singles and he was anxious to put in a lot of miles. He left the dock enthused to row in a real shell, not just the gig he had learned in. I was happy to row along beside him.
It was beautiful on the race course. No other boats are in sight. I just keep on rowing in my single . . . I’m at the top now. Should turn around and head back but it is so nice up here that I’ll just keep going “up towards Manayunk.” Another 20 or so strokes. . .through two big bridge abutments. . .still rowing. . .then. . . BANG! THUNK! What happened??
Jimmy fell into the water!
I watched as he let go of his oars and grabbed his boat, realizing quickly that he had rowed over a submerged boulder and damaged his shell badly. It was already taking in water from the big hole in the bow and it would not be possible to upright, get back in, from where he was in the water. So Jimmy swam to shore.
On the west bank, I noticed the fishermen, sitting and talking while they ignored the hapless rower.
But not the kids, who were sneaking a swim nearby in the “forbidden” river. They saw the rower swim away from the boat, and before Jimmy had even reached shore, they were clamering to get into it.
Sykes Skinner, at 12 years old the oldest and biggest kid, succeeded in boarding the craft. Straddling the narrow width of the boat and balancing himself, Sykes stood up and loudly proclaimed, “I found me a boat!”