As a graduate student about 10 years ago, I took many camping trips with friends up in the arrowhead region. On one such trip, my best friend, who would later become the best man in my wedding, asked “would you drop me off at the McDonalds just off Hwy 61 in Duluth? My sister has set me up on a blind date with one of her friends. I’ll go on the date and meet you guys at the campsite tonight.” Well, my friend, let’s call him Chopper, was always on the chase , usually with a reasonable degree of success so I reluctantly agree to his plan.
Fast forwad to the campsite that nite. The remainder of the group sets camp, gets the first few fish in the boat, cleans ’em up, has a nice fish fry, and builds a fire. No Chopper. It starts raining, hard. Still no Chopper.
Next morning. Chopper appears. Date in tow, big smile on Chopper’s face. He had a nice warm bed, hot breakfast, and apparently some reasonable “companionship”. We didn’t appreciate this all that much, given the dampness of our current situation. Eventually, the date leaves temporarily, and Chopper says “Ok guys, let’s hit the lake”. Hit the lake indeed.
So, we motor out into a shallow bay, across the lake from the campsite. We cut the engine, Chopper starts digging for his gear, with the rest of us in the boat giving him a nice glare. As he starts tying up, the rest of us rise as one, and say “Ok Chopper, we’re going to give you a chance to take your watch off and get your wallet out of your pocket.” Chopper is of course clueless, apparently because of lack of sleep , but eventually he stood up and took his punishment like a man. So, I guess the most unusual thing I’ve lost over the side of a boat is a 130 lb, 6′ tall blond Norwegian, who was not lost but rather tossed in.