The Duck Story

Back in the fall of 2006 I was out skiing in Monoan Bay. In the fall there just seems to a few more birds on the water. Don’t know why. So much like with the pigeons from Seinfeld, boats seem to have a deal with the waterfowl. As the boat comes through, they get out of the way of the boats and we just mumble under our breaths at all the crap they leave on our dock.

So I’m footing behind my boat, moving along at 41 MPH or so. There is a flock of ducks on the water that we’re coming up on that I’m keeping my eyes on. They scatter for the boat, but one moves just clear of the boat and directly into my line. Now, much like in NASCAR (at least according to Days of Thunder), this is kinda like a car wreck so I’m thinking “just go straight through.” There are still several ducks scattered about and trying to slalom my way through just isn’t a realistic option. I’m moving at 41 MPH and there is only about 90 feet between me and the boat. Not sure on the exact math, but that doesn’t give me much time to react.

Now I’m moving along directly towards the duck that is just kind of floating there. As I approach closer, it sees me coming directly towards it and starts swimming which is good. Except it starts swimming the same direction I’m going. It isn’t going 41 MPH. So I’m thinking a typical barefoot stance is about shoulder width apart roughly. The duck isn’t going to fit between my feet. At least not easily. I obviously don’t want to hit the duck. A) This is bad for the duck and B) hitting the duck would be bad for me. I could potentially break a foot, ankle, knee, leg, etc and I’m just not ready to call it a season yet.

So I get to thinking, the duck is swimming, it isn’t that big. I’m about 20 feet from it now and I decide to widen my stance so it is about 4 feet wide. I wanted to get wide, but not too low because the duck might remember that it can fly too. The duck starts to swerve just a bit, but not much, just enough where I need to move a little bit to keep it centered and I straddle the duck. To the best of my knowledge, I didn’t touch it. I didn’t feel any feathers on my ankles or legs.

The spotter, 7, who’s watching this, went from a look of “oh shit he’s gonna hit a duck” to laughing his ass off. John, who’s driving also sees this in the mirror and I could tell he’s laughing too. They could both see clear as day that I straddled it.

I resumed my normal stance and just kept on going.

Maybe this duck thought it was a squirrel?

– Stroy from Eric (aka Wedge)

This entry was posted in stories and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.