By Elias Koutsaris

It was a sad day – the last day at the cottage. Another season gone in the blink of an eye. So many memories, yet they passed so quickly. I knew this day would come, as it does every year, but it still felt the same nevertheless. I once again had to leave behind all the fun for another seven months. All my favourite activities happen there: spending time with my family, watersports, and my personal favourite, boating.

My dad and I were in charge of closing the cottage for the winter, so it was just us there. We began to put the boats away, one by one. When we got to the final boat, we had time to spare, and it just so happened that my uncle’s boat was at the nearby marina, and he needed it back at his cottage. With the spare time, my dad wanted to do him a favour. So, he called him and offered to bring his boat back. My uncle, of course, not wanting to make the trip down, said yes. I thought my dad and I would be delivering it to him, and I was quite excited to get back out in the boat again before the season expired. So, we boated over to the marina and got ready to leave.

It was when my dad and I were checking everything to make sure it was good to go that he told me that he wouldn’t be coming. I would be driving the boat 15 km up the lake all by myself. I was ecstatic. I had driven this route dozens of times in my little 13-ft. boat with 40 hp, but never before in a boat like my uncle’s. The difference was that my uncle didn’t have a normal boat. His boat was 20 feet long and had over 500 hp, nothing like I had ever been trusted with. What followed was the culmination of the last 14 years of my life. I had been driving boats since I could sit in my dad’s lap–basically since I was 6 months old. Ever since, I have been hooked on boating, and some of my fondest memories are those of being in boats. At age 10, I was allowed to drive my tiny little boat in our bay. By the time I was 12, I could go a little further, and that distance just kept increasing until this year, where I have basically been allowed to go wherever I wanted to. This freedom I have been able to experience did not just happen overnight; it took years of building my father’s trust, and this was the perfect representation of that.

            So, there I was, on the dock, about to go. I eagerly jumped in the driver’s seat and waited for my dad to untie the boat from the dock. I turned the key, and the engine cranked for a moment and then roared to life. My dad told me to be careful and have some fun. I put the boat into gear, and I was off. I waited until I made it past the red and green markers and then gave it some throttle. The boat jumped out of the water and quickly accelerated. I gave it some power trim to get the hull out of the water more and continued to accelerate until about 40 mph, where I could cruise comfortably. As the cold fall air whipped around my head, and with the solitude of the lake around me, all I could hear was the motor of the boat, going strong. Eventually, I got bored of only going 40, so I decided to see what the boat could do. I looked around ensuring that the coast was clear and there were no other boats around. Once it was clear, I gradually pushed the throttle in. The boat slowly accelerated, until it hit 50, and then 60, before I settled it back down to around 45. I was astounded by how fast the land went by at that speed, and I couldn’t wipe the giant smile off my face. After a few more minutes, I once again felt the urge to go faster. So, like the first time, I slowly pushed the throttle in. First 50, then 60, then 65, then 70, then 75. The land around me was coming and going in the blink of an eye, and my eyes began to water. I soon let off the gas and came back down to a reasonable speed. Not long after that, I was about to arrive. I could see the cottage, and as I approached, I slowly let off the gas and came back to an idle. I calmly parked in the boathouse and tied up.

Soon after, my uncle came down to thank me, and I handed him the keys. Later, my friend would show up in another boat to pick me up, and we began the 15-km drive home. The journey back was nice, but nothing like the one there. It felt like I was trapped, only able to go 35 mph, no faster. The ride back was uneventful, seeing only one other boat. The lake was quiet– nothing like the highway it felt like in the summer; it now felt like a residential street–quiet, calm, and peaceful. Fall is my favourite time of the year for those reasons. The summer is fun, but something about the silence is just so soothing. Before I knew it, we were slowing down and tying up the 25-foot metal boat that we were driving.

 In my absence, my dad had buttoned up the final boat and the rest of the boathouse. I said my goodbyes to my friend and sent him on his way. My dad and I then jumped in the car and started the two-hour drive back to the city. On the way back, we didn’t talk much. I spent the drive reflecting on what a great summer and cottage season I had experienced, all the new experiences I had, and all the fantastic memories I created. From the dozens of lake trout caught, to the friends new and old, the summer of ’24 was one to remember.