What they say about good deeds is certainly true

Last Sunday, I decided to take the duck boat I just built out for its maiden run. I’m happy to report that it floats like a cork and will serve me just fine. But, don’t worry, this column isn’t about that.

What it is about is the fact that no good deed goes unpunished.

You see, when I launched my duck boat, I took my shoes and socks off and put them in the boat, then rolled up my pants to my knees and stepped in the water so I could float it before I got inside. This meant, I got wet to the shins – but that’s OK since my shins are not that high off the ground to begin with.

This only matters because shortly after I returned to the landing and beached my boat, I watched as an overloaded aluminum boat putt-putted in.

Six full grown adults were in it and, as a result of their collective weight and the shallow water levels, their boat bottomed out about 15 feet from shore. The people inside the boat began to flounder and use oars ineffectively to try to push it to shallower water so they could get out on dry land.

If you have ever seen a whale trying to shimmy up a dry creek bed, you will have a pretty good image of what it looked like.

Normally, I would have let them figure it out for themselves. But I had already gotten wet and I was in a good mood due to the fact that my boat handled so well.

So, I walked over and said, “I’ll pull you in. I’m already wet.”

At that moment, I appeared to be very cool customer as I strutted nonchalantly towards their

boat to perform the rescue. And that prevailed until I stepped into the one deep hole between me and them.

I suppose it was one of those “Now you see it; now you don’t” moments. And when I re-emerged, I was sopping wet.

Whoever said you never get a second chance to make a first impression has never done this. For their immediate impression of me was washed away with the first splash.

Also, as unfair as it may seem, at times like this, people are laughing at you, not with you.

Anyway, as I emerged from the depths of the frigid waters like a smallscale version of Godzilla, I approached their boat as if none of this had happened and then, without a word, dragged it in close enough so that they could get out and remain in a much drier state than I was in.

Of course, they thanked me – but only between giggles. And, since they were relatively young, I fully expect this to go so viral that people recognize me at airports as the “boat helping guy.”

Sure, this was followed by really awkward small talk about my boat and how I assured Jenn I would not come home soaking wet. And yes, I had to explain to her that my pants were soaked because I helped other people rather than because of my boat’s performance. Or nervous bladder issues.

Other than that, it ended well.

But it just goes to show that no good deed ever goes unpunished.

Would I help them again? Of course.

But this time I would do so by advising them to take off their shoes and socks and roll up their pants to their knees …