So here’s what I expect to happen. I’ll take the old canoe out to my local lake and set it in the water. All will seem fine. (It says it has a weight limit of 600lbs!) All will seem dry.
Gryphon will take a seat at the front, anxious to enjoy the fruits of our father-son repair sessions. Then I’ll put my foot in, and my foot will go straight through the hull without pause. Water will fill my shoe, my pant leg, and of course, the boat. There will be wide eyes and laughter. This is what I expect to happen.
That boat, will not float, it’s the last in its class, I’m the first one to know.
That bay, it’s never made i’m the last of my kind fucking tricked by my training.
– Manchester Orchestra
Now, the issue with a hole-filled $50 canoe is that you want to do a cheap repair job. Cheap, but not SO cheap as to have it sink right under your feet. Really though, I’m not concerned about our half-assed repairs as I am the rest of the hull. Our repairs will withstand the anger of the gods. I’ve had lots of experience with half-assed but solid repairs. The rest of the hull has me worried. It’s seems mighty thin. It seems as if it had been woven of rice paper!
If this canoe, this queen of the sea cows, sinks on its maiden voyage I will not be sad or disappointed. Not much anyway. I’ll count the $50 and the extra $30 for Fiberglass resin, matting and brush.., as simply the cost of a few days of father son “quality time”. As for the boat…. I may just walk away. I may just shake my head and give it to the ocean…
and never look back.