April 11th, 2019
5minute read
What kind of adventures have your Springfield Armory firearms been on?
Whether a tale of daring or a complete debacle, we want to know.
On the agenda was fishing at an island only reachable by boat.
This in itself is usually not cause for concern.
But our path required that we shoot the inlet from the brackish intercoastal waterway to the open ocean.
For the uninitiated amongst us, what exactly does that punch in of watery intersection involve?
Well, it can get rather messy.
As the tide meets what is effectively a river that reverses flow twice a day, complications can happen.
Waves of both unusual size and direction are frequent.
And quite possibly your good sense, but that is for another day.
We had shot the inlet hundreds of times in Zodiacs, what could possibly go wrong?
Getting out of the inlet was no problem.
Who dares, wins, something something tough guy, we made it to the island.
And then the problems began.
Coming into the inlet, we could see nothing but whitecaps in the moonlight.
The coxswain advised the women and children to hang on tight, we were in for a ride.
And right as we hit the dead center of the chop, a noise I will never forget.
The engine going from full RPMs to dead, instantly.
Getting a headcount in the dark, in such a situation, takes some doing.
After a few minutes, the screaming stopped, and we were able to account for all the humans.
I also had a flailing boxer in a rear-naked choke, lest he drown the both of us.
Between the dog and my un-waterproofed backpack, I was having something of a time.
Why did I have a gun with me on a fishing trip?
Because I dont leave home without one and maybe, pirates.
Regardless of reason, I wasnt about to send it to a watery grave without a fight.
Finally, I was able to pass off my backpack, and deal with a more immediate problem.
We only had one dog, and only a monster would let the other dog drown.
Feeling the thrashing dog in my left hand, a moment of clarity opened my memory.
The dogs had been tied together, to make them easier to handle in the boat.
And fortunately, a johnboat is a very difficult thing to sink.
They might flip easily, but they dont exactly submerge like an anvil.
Our boat was now safely flipped all the way upside down, bobbing on the waves.
Tracing the rope from the collar of dog #1 led to the boat and then under the water.
We set both waterlogged beasts on the now exposed flat bottom, taking a much-needed breather.
Then things got worse.
With the capsize of our mighty vessel, we had lost our running lights.
This particular inlet was not very wide, in terms of navigable waters.
We had no chance of yelling above the roar of the engines, and no chance of swimming away.
Johnny, who would later win a Navy Cross in Afghanistan, took charge.
In the circumstances, that was absolutely the best option available.
Johnny started counting, three, two…
And then my feet hit solid ground.
The intercoastal had chewed us up, but now it spit us out.
The boat passed us 100 feet away, and I am certain never even noticed us.
A few minutes later, we collapsed in a heap in a patch of reeds.
The dangerous part was over, but not the hard part.
All the paddles were lost and the engine was hopeless.
We ended up walking in thigh-deep water for six hours.
We made it home as the sun came up.
My all-steel 1911 spent about seven hours in saltwater before I could even rinse it.
In retrospect, probably not on the recommended list.
But it did survive.
It required adetail strip, but all in all, was none the worse for wear.
Not only do I still have it, I still use it.
And I cant pull that gun out of the box without remembering the night I almost lost it.
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