Mo Mo No Mo

 

 

Mo-Mo No Mo

 

The Stooges hate motors, especially Fred (Moe) who’s favorite saying is: “We don’t need no stinkin motor.” Our 3.5 hp Tohatsu has been a general PITA ever since we’ve owned it. Last year John (Skippy) cleaned and overhauled the carburetor at least 3 times and the engine still didn’t run right. So at the end of the season as the boat was on the trailer going to the garlic barn for the winter, John volunteered to take the motor to a real outboard shop and get it fixed.

 

Cut to: Spring, three weeks out from the first race of the season.

“John, how’s the motor doing?” “I just took it into the shop. It’ll be ready.”

 

Cut to: Two days before the first race

“John, we’re gonna splash the boat tomorrow. Where’s the motor?” “I’ll check.”

 

Cut to: John on phone from his office

“Oh, yeah, we lost the hard sheet for that motor and didn’t know what to do with it.” “I need that motor TOMORROW!” “OK, no problem, pick it up around noon.”

 

Cut to: Interior of shop around noon the following day

“That’s not our motor. Our motor is over there untouched.” “Really? I could have sworn you said it was this one over the phone. OK, I can have yours running in 30 minutes. Oh, and by the way, that’s the cleanest carburetor I’ve every seen on one of these motors!” “Yeah, thanks.” Grumble, grumble.

 

At this point John calls Fred (sigh), and Fred brings his heavy 4+ hp motor down to the boat. We step the mast and after about 15 pulls, Fred gets the motor to fire. Close call. Up to McCuddy’s we go. Fred has to dash because of the Sailor’s Dinner at PYC. John shows up about a half hour later with our motor. “Runs like a top. Tested it at all the power settings and ran it for about 20 minutes.” “Yeah, right.” Stooges don’t trust motors.

 

Rather than swap out motors, we decide to just stow our motor since Fred’s was still on the back of the boat and he was already gone home to change.

 

Cut to: Saturday Morning

We arrive early. Rig the boat. Head out. Fred’s heavy motor is running fine. Out on the course the breeze is up and dark clouds are rolling in. First gun goes off, and we’re 5^th start. Plenty of time. John goes to turn off the motor. “Who put this motor on the boat? The mounting screws were so loose that the motor almost was about to bounce off the engine mount!” Crisis averted. Bad boy, Curley, bad boy.

 

So now with the motor turned off, John goes to pull it up out of the water, but the engine mount bracket is stuck. Pull. Push. Wiggle. Say bad words. Turn the boat into the breeze. Flog the sails to slow down. Waves everywhere from all the salmon fishermen roaring through the fleet to their special salmon holes. Boat bouncing up and down. Motor no move. Drift down river.

 

Fred’s turn. Pull. Push. Wiggle. Say bad words. Turn the boat into the breeze. Flog the sails to slow down. Boat bouncing up and down. Finally the motor comes up. Mumble, mumble, “How the heck to I tilt this motor out of the water?” Mumble, mumble. Bad words. “Must be this…shit, shit, oh shit!” Motor drops back down. “I hate motors.” Reach back over the stern. Pull. Push. Wiggle. Say bad words. Turn the boat into the breeze. Flog the sails to slow down. Boat bouncing up and down. Motor no move. Keep drifting downriver.

 

Curley’s turn. Get screw driver and channel locks. Lay on deck. Reach over stern. Say nice words to motor mount. Use screwdriver as lever. Motor comes up. Lock in place. Tilt motor. Sail back upriver to start line and barely make it before the gun. Stooges still hate motors.

 

Cut to: End of day at dock.

Carnage of broken boom in M. Bennett’s boat laying on the dock. Stooges glad the only thing we broke in the 37 kt gust was a block on the clew of the jib. “Let’s get my motor off and up to my car.” “I’ll go get us a cart.”

 

John comes back with a three wheeled wonder cart. He puts Fred’s motor in the basket. Our Pineapple cruising jib goes on top of that. Michelle’s wet spinnaker that we borrowed was next. And on top, John’s sea bag. Off he goes to get everything up to the parking lot. Fred and I stay to give Captain Obvious observations to Michelle about her boom. I turn around after some particularly obvious comment and glance toward the end of the dock just as John hits a bump and his sea bag bounces off the cart on to the dock. He stops, lets go of the cart, turns around to pick up his bag, and while his back is turned, in slow motion, the cart begins rolling to the edge.

 

“JO-O-H-H-N-N-N!” Too late. As he turns back sea bag in hand, the cart, the motor, the sail, and the spinnaker tip over the edge into the water. The motor and cart sink immediately. Spinnaker bag floats down toward next dock finger. Pineapple yellow sausage bag begins to sink. In a minute, it’s gone too. We run over and capture the floating spinnaker. Shock. Disbelief. The mo-mo is no mo. It’s down under 10 feet of moving Columbia river. Maybe a diver can find it tomorrow. Stooges hate motors.

 

 

 

Cut to: PYC over drinks.

“John, thank you.” “For what!” “This afternoon with the great cart fiasco you managed two incredible accomplishments in one fell swoop. First, you have kept the Stooges reputation and legacy intact for at least another year. And two, on the first day of the season you have set such a high bar for anyone who wants the ‘Whoops!’ trophy at next spring’s awards banquet that you are just about guaranteed to be the winner.” “Oh, great…Did I tell you that I fucking hate motors.”

 

Fade to black