Rubber Ducky by Bob Ploss

The float camp on Muchalat Inlet was the perfect treeplanting camp, if you didn't mind being crowded. We were 20 people on a 40'x60' float. 17 planters, JC Bradford was the amazing cook, one-eyed Mario Dejarnais was my foreman, and I was the crew boss and boat driver. It was a big show, around 850,000 trees. We would be tied up along the shore of Muchalat Inlet, Tahsis Inlet and Nootka Island for about eight weeks. The year was 1990.

Moving camp was as simple as disconnecting the water line and tie-ups and hooking up to a tug. My favourite part was the drive to work because it was not the usual bounce along a logging road. I had leased a 24 foot crew boat with a 115 hp Mercury on the back. It took two trips to deliver the crew to the planting sites. There were oysters on the beach, eagles in the trees and I had two crab traps going at all times. Life was good.

The crew boat was a big hit – crab for dinner most every night didn't hurt. Someone found a little rubber duck on the beach. The duck got Shoe Gooed to the bow of the boat and she was forever after known as "Rubber Ducky".

About half way into the contract Rubber Ducky started to act up. Gas consumption went crazy and the throttle control was very fussy. On the next day off I decided to take her into Tahsis to the marina for service. All went well along sheltered Muchalat Inlet, but when I cleared Bligh Island and rounded into Tahsis Inlet, the tide was running in against a stiff outflow wind. The chop was steep and nasty. Then something went very wrong with the controls. There were only two throttle positions that would not kill the power—idle and full open. I messed around a bit and ran the battery down trying to fix it. A tossing boat in open water is not a great place for amateur mechanics.

I decided that getting blown onto the rocks was a very bad option. That left going full speed into serious chop. This was very tricky and very scary; sort of like mogul skiing on amphetamines. I had to steer through the onrushing waves, trying to stay in the valleys. When I missed, the boat would be airborne and I'd have to cut the power, brace for a huge impact and then restore full power, all in a few seconds, with perfect timing. The good news was that at that speed, it was only about an hour to Tahsis.

My arrival at Tahsis was a combination of relief and a new set of problems. Screaming into a marina at full speed is a good way to get yelled at. I managed to cut power and arrive at the wharf without damage, but the marina dude was in a serious lather. I tried to explain the mechanical problem, but rather than listen, he wanted to blast me for my idiot driving. He cast off the lines, and before I could stop him, shoved off into the harbour to show me how it was done.

The wind had picked up and the chop was far worse, reflecting off the breakwater. He got a real quick lesson in high speed maneuvering. When we finally got back to the wharf, we were both very white in the face. He apologized. I walked up the ramp and kissed the ground.