Blog 10-11-16 While it’s fresh in our “head” we wrote this tale of the “Shitter is Plugged”

Yes, they said it would happen and they were right. The “Shitter is plugged” (words from the wise Scott Haws from Jaycee Lynn)  It all started with chili last night. Note to self never make Chili unless we are at a marina. This morning the event happened. We didn’t have a plunger on board. That was a fail on our part.  All the planning we did and we missed the simple tool…the plunger. We pulled anchor immediately planning to make a hundred mile run to the Marina where we were going to stay, because two days without a head would not be fun. The conversation started about which buck or trash can would best be suited for the interim “head.”  That’s when reality struck….100 miles doing 8 miles an hour, and one lock may put us traveling on the river at night.  That could be a bigger fail than not having a plunger on board.  We were in a crappy situation. There was only one small marina before we were at a point of no return. The Mermaid Marina was nothing more than a few floating docks, which I might add some were tipped sideways due to the low water. Entering the marina, we entered our skinniest water we have encountered yet.  1 ½ feet under the keel. So if having a plugged shitter wasn’t enough to make you pucker your sphincter muscle, 1 ½ fee showing on your depth sounder surely will. The kind man at the marina allowed us to tie up so we could assess our conundrum and of course get rid of some of that morning coffee. We entered in the store in a rush to use the bathroom.  We were both doubtful this tiny store would have the proper tool.

Here is Scott’s version of what happened next:

On exiting the bathroom, I look down the aisle and what do I see?

Not one, but 2 plungers staring back at me.

In amazement, I give my forehead a slap

It must be a miracle. Holy Crap.

With my miracle in hand, I knew in a jiffy

I would be doing battle with the biffy.

With fear in my heart

I know I need to start

If this doesn’t succeed.

Full dismantling would be in need

I shut the door and take a lunge

With all my might I start to plunge

It only took a few

And the blockage went through

The smell of the backup hit me with a start.

It was worse than any foul smelling fart.

I didn’t really mind the smell

It meant I didn’t have to go through hell

As I put this issue to bed

I now know the sweetest sounds on a boat is a properly flushing head