Ding dong dinghy it.

After we established that we were holding fine, Tim started prepping the dinghy and the Torqeedo.  I got our bag ready with anything we would need to check in with the ranger.  We discussed the VHF, both agreed to put it in the bag.  (It didn't wind up in the bag--dual brain fart.)

So, I come up and I get. "We got a problem."  Seriously? Why do you do this to me, Tim?

Evidently while hooking up the Torqeedo and simultaneously bouncing off the stern of Elysium, one of the plugs didn't get aligned right and ZPPPPFFFT!  Torqeedo hath been shorted out.  Well, f*ck a duck.

Me--the eternal optimist (hah! blaming the scopalamine).  Well, baby. We gots oars.  After all, we've got years of experience not killing ourselves on the rivers of the Ozarks.  Oh, and a crazy kayak trip in Hawai'i that we. were. not. in. shape. for.

So, OFF goes the Torqeedo, into the dinghy I jump with the bag. Oh, did I mention? We forgot the VHF.

So, below pic perfectly shows our goal (ignore plane), nice dinghy beach.  It also shows the old coal dock pilings.  The first of which was constructed around 1861, yes, kids, when KANSAS BECAME A STATE!  The majority constructed around 1898 as a supply stop for the US Navy.

Beach or pilings? Beach or pilings?

So, as lovely as the water looks. We start rowing our little selves to the beach.  But not really, because we are now in a floating balloon in 17 kt winds broadside.  We are actually heading to Loggerhead Key, or Cuba, or Cayman Islands. Who knows?

So, the following motivational speech came forth:
"ROW KIM, ROW, ROW! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? ROW"

Reply:
"I AM M******F******"

For some reason, I thought if I sat inside the dinghy instead of on the tube that it would be okay. Not really, you don't get ample enough thrust off your oar if you don't have it at the right angle.

So, at this point, I said, Head for the pilings, young man!  What? You mean the partially submerged, wooden stakes poking out of the water?  YES. And there's also rusted iron, hope you have your tetanus shot.

So, we crash landed in the century+ old pilings, grabbed one and regrouped. So from there we would frantically oar from one to another, some having old line attached was awesome.  We finally got to the point where we had some wind protection and we could paddle like hell to the beach.  And we made it!

So, as we pulled the dinghy up on land, Mr. Park Ranger. (Ranger Simons, thankyouverymuch) a young guy, ex-military, said, hey! Was wondering if you were going to make it or not.  Yeah, us also, sir.  And....one of the first questions asked?  Did you bring your VHF?  To which we did some kicking of sand and said, we forgot it.  Hmmmmm.

Finally, I wanted to get off the "What were you dumbshits thinking" questioning, so I asked, hey, do we talk to you about checking in and paying our park fees?

He was very nice, and gave us a full tour of what we need to do, of course if you make yourself memorable and be polite, you'll be voted least likely to be arrested/ticketed on Thanksgiving day.  (story up shortly.)