Our day began like any other—with an early morning drive to Lake Crowley alongside our fishing buddies. Al, ever the organized one, had meticulously planned every detail. With our gear stowed and that familiar thrill in the air, we set our sights on a secluded spot far from the rental-boat marina. The day was picture-perfect: the sun sparkled on the water, the air was crisp and cold, snow capped the surrounding mountains, and it felt like we had the entire lake to ourselves.

We launched our small aluminum boat, its motor sputtering to life as we glided across the calm surface. For hours, we cast our lines, sharing stories and soaking in the tranquility—though we caught nothing. But as the afternoon wore on, the wind began to shift. What started as a gentle breeze quickly escalated into an increasingly gusty wind that took us by surprise.

In just minutes, the serene lake transformed into a choppy mess, rocking our little boat like a cork. Al, ever calm amid the rising wind and aware that the entire marina rental fleet had suffered significant wind damage in recent weeks, wisely decided to beach the boat rather than risk capsizing. He took the helm and steered us toward the shore. We battled against the increasing chop, the wind gusting and the spray of cold water—the motor sputtering. But with Al’s steady hands and unwavering determination, we finally beached the boat on the sandy shoreline.

Exhausted but grateful to be on solid ground, we quickly realized we were stranded. The wind howled, and we were destined to be stuck for hours, unable to refloat our boat safely. Yet that’s the magic of Al—no matter how dire the situation, he knows how to turn it into an adventure.

We spent those hours laughing at the absurdity of our predicament, cold but determined to make the best of it. Al, ever the planner, pulled out snacks from his pack—because, of course, he had packed snacks—turning our potentially miserable wait into something surprisingly enjoyable.

An onshore resident spotted my makeshift distress signal and notified the Sheriff. As the wind began to die down, we saw a Deputy Sheriff approaching in a much larger boat. He backed down into the shallow water, threw us a line, and began towing us back to safety. But just as we thought our troubles were over, the larger boat’s engine started to falter.

After consulting the Deputy, Al lashed our small boat to the larger one, and with the outboard motor at full throttle, we managed to slowly make our way back to the marina. As we neared the marina, the Deputy, keen to avoid the embarrassment of being rescued himself, suggested that Al take our smaller boat back just around the bend while he limped the larger boat into the marina.

As we approached the marina, the Sheriff—who lived on the lake—demanded to know how the larger boat had become disabled. Suspicion dripped from his voice as he questioned whether the Deputy had backed it into shore and fouled the impeller with sand. Al and I quickly swore it wasn’t the case, insisting a tow rope had been used to rescue us after we pushed our boat into the water so the rescue boat could avoid the shallow sandy bottom. The Sheriff remained skeptical, but I later wrote a letter of commendation for our Deputy, which ended up on the bulletin board, much to the Sheriff’s chagrin. We later learned the larger boat was down for three days while they repaired the damaged inboard impeller and cracked casing.

That day reinforced why Al is the best friend anyone could wish for. In moments of calm, he’s the perfect partner for a peaceful day on the lake. But in the face of chaos, he’s the steady presence that makes even the toughest challenges manageable.

So here’s to Al, the ultimate hunting and fishing partner, who turns getting stranded into an unforgettable adventure.