Jackson: Bidding farewell to beloved boat stirs bittersweet memories

I am not a beer and whiskey drinker per se.

But I've been known to have a Stella Artois or vodka tonic once or twice a year for special occasions. And this was something akin to a wake.

Unfortunately this one special happening has both relief and sadness tied to its keel.

I have owned and operated over a dozen boats, all for personal and guide trips on a host of lakes and rivers throughout the Midwest.

I grew up in a Mercury family, with a father who loved his outboards almost as much as he cared for my mother.

In those early days Irv managed to plough through the heavy, wavy waters of Eagle Lake Ontario with a 7½ horse Martin. And when that little sewing machine was "liberated" from Irv's trunk, it was a heartbreaker for my dad.

He figured it was time to get a Johnson Sea Horse, of the 5 horsepower family. That didn't last long because Irv had his eye on a 9.8 Mercury.

And so it was for the engine department for decades.

Personally my first outboard was a Scott Atwater soon followed by a Sears low-output motor. Ugh.

And then it was a 70-horse Evinrude (built by the old OMC company in Waukegan). That was the toughest outboard motor to start and keep running smoothly. Next was a series of Mercs on the back end again until Evinrude's E-TECs came along.

As I hoisted the cocktail, I remembered the very first time three years ago when I turned on the ignition of my 50-horse E-TEC that sat perched on the stern of my 17-foot fishing boat.

No hand pumping on the gas line. No choking the engine. No false starts and no smoke when that powerful gang of 40 sprang into life. I was back in the saddle again, so to speak, and felt free and unencumbered because I could get on the water any time without begging rides and fishing time with friends.

Opening days found me with my old pal, the late Roger, casting for walleye and smallmouth on Butternut Lake in northern Wisconsin.

I easily caught limits of white bass from the always busy Wolf River.

The list of fishing spots was endless.

And then some physical issues dampened the picture.

It became tougher to take the boat out of the garage, fish for several hours, and then return it to the spot in my garage without tearing off aluminum side strips on the garage framing.

But once I got it off the trailer and on to the water, friends refused to believe how easy it was to start and then cruise along at high and lower speeds.

My wife and kids kept telling me it was time to sell the boat. I fought them on a weekly basis. These were major battles.

I loved the freedom I had with that watercraft, but I didn't like the way and difficulty I had when attaching it on to the truck hitch.

Fishing partner Phil recently sold his 16-foot Lund with a 50-Merc outboard. He told me he experienced a degree of relief as well as sadness. I didn't understand the sadness part until I shook hands with the buyer of my boat and then drove away. My boat was a platform for dreams and easily attained adventures.

That's where the sadness came into play. That one thought brought that delicious beer to my lips while causing me to think how quickly time zips by.

This event was as close to a wake or sitting shivva one could get without losing a human friend.

• Contact Mike Jackson at angler88@comcast.net, catch his radio show 7-9 a.m. Sundays on WGCO 1590-AM (live-streamed at www.1590WCGO.com) and get more content at www.mikejacksonoutdoors.com.