Steel Boating Mishap – Fashion Aid

I slowly backed my car up to the boat, inching slowly so that I didn’t accidentally bounce off it and send it flying down the boat ramp and back into the harbour. My father watched me from the side, hands on his hips and a somewhat vacant expression on his face – not exactly confidence inspiring.

‘Am I far out?’ I called from the wound-down window, leaning out to try and get a better angle on the manoeuvre. He shot me a thumbs up.

‘Totally fine,’ he said. I frowned – that wasn’t actually an answer to my question.

‘Am I going to hit it or not?’ I asked.

‘Keep ‘er coming,’ he waved at me. ‘Plenty of gas left.’

‘What?’ I growled – at the exact moment my bumper smacked into the stainless steel boat latch. ‘Dammit!’ I swore, immediately flicking the car into drive and shooting forward. I parked it and twisted the keys out of the ignition, jumping out to inspect the damage.

‘What the hell, Dad?’ I asked, shooting him a filthy look on the way past. ‘That’s what you were there for!’

‘Should be good,’ he nodded. ‘Just a little further now.’

I frowned at him, but kept rushing to the boat. The damage was minimal – thank god – but my bumper had a lovely dent in it that I could already hear my wife complaining about.

The important thing was the boat, I told myself. The last thing I needed on my plate was trying to find a marine stainless steel fabrication specialist near Melbourne, quote at the ready. Much better that it be my car taking the damage.

‘Are you feeling alright, Dad?’ I asked, turning back to my father. He shot me another vacant thumbs up and my frown deepened. ‘Doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence,’ I told him gruffly. ‘How long were you in the sun today?’

‘Bit long, maybe,’ he admitted, his eyebrows knitting together. ‘But, them’s the breaks. At least we caught all that snapper!’

I sighed, slumping forward.

‘Trout, Dad,’ I said, leading him to the car. ‘We were fishing for trout. Let’s get you to a hospital.’