Lunching Vultures
He left the boat tied fore and aft on the windward side of the ramp
It was low tide and kelp covered most of the low end
The usual crowd was watching his every move
Sitting there in the sun sipping from cold gloved cans
Some smoking, some eating a brown bag lunch
All waiting patiently for something to go wrong
To brighten their collective boring day
Lord knows how many slips and falls
Dropped baggage, coolers and clothes
Boats missing their boarding on trailers too deep
All those eyes glued on him as he went to get his truck
Every one averted if he looked back
The trailer slid down the ramp till the wheel hubs almost dipped in
He locked up the brakes and left the truck running in park
Boarded the boat
Started her up and cast off
Backed her into the sea slowly
Then surged ahead to plant her all the way forward onto the trailer
Raised the motor then slid over the bow onto the tongue
The hook was just loose enough to catch the bow eye
He turned the handle a half turn to snug
Stepped onto the truck bed
Then over the driver’s side to open the door and get in
He pulled up the ramp
Stopped and got out
Tied down the stern ties
Then got in and drove off
They waited for the next boat out
Copyright © Donald Meikle | Year Posted 2006
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