John puts the old life jacket on and struggles to keep the clips together. In the end his face shows defeat and he lets the straps hang like vines in a pale yellow abandoned mine. Dad grabs a handle and tugs with a struggle.
"A cubbyhole," he pipes up. "The perfect place for the beacon, by the way does anyone know where the button for it is?"
He fingered around for the ruler as well, "I don't know why that kid told us to take a papery ruler instead of a normal one." He says with a disappointed tone in his voice. Shitting the door he stands up in the oversized motorboat and kicks it into ignition. They hear a series of clangs from the engine. The noise screams for one last time to turn into a constant 'putt putt putt'.
"That's weird," notices Davie. "The clangs spelled 'bad fisherman' in morse code." The others ignore him and John hoists the docking ropes while dad puts the Vessel in reverse.
The boat, which is bouncing around quite gracefully, reached the deepest point in the rough waters of lake Ellesmere. Their lines fly through the air and crash into the deep blue. They fix their rods
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