There are two types of motors. Those that don’t work now and those that soon won’t work. The Johnson’s, Mercury’s, Evinrude’s, Suzuki’s and Yamaha’s of this world are all the work of the devil. When you most need one to function, it doesn’t.
Like on a balmy day on the Chesapeake, drifting along for flounder, not a care in the world. You turn the ignition on and the engine fairly purrs. You reach a sandy hump on the bottom, cut off the engine for another drift and catch more fish. Then, in the east, dark storm clouds begin to assemble. Could be bad, you think. It’s time to get back to the dock. You turn the key and nothing happens. Dead silence. You turn it again, Nothing. The motor was just tuned and was chomping at the bit, ready for a spark, but the ignition switch is having a bad hair day. The storm lashes out, tossing the boat like a toy in a bathtub, soaking everyone to the bone. Two hours later, a boat finally passes and offers a tow. You can hear them snickering in the other boat.
“Poor suckers – they shouldn’t have bought that Evinrude. Everybody knows they are lemons. A Yamaha is the ticket.”
But they are all alike. When dealing with boat motors, it’s always a losing battle.
Motors that start by hand cranking are the most sinister. At the dock, one gentle tug fires up the little 5 horse engine and it’s out to the creek to check your crab pots. You kill the engine, shake a dozen crabs from the pot, rebait and pull on the rope to start up again. You pull and pull and pull, and nothing. Something called “flooding” has just occurred. Flooding means the boat motor is pissed about something and won’t start. But after 100 more tugs, the motor finally says, “Okay. We can go now.”
It finally starts, you head in and the next morning you see your orthopedic surgeon to schedule a rotator cuff operation.
In the Devil’s masterful scheme, he also deemed that the average boat motor should not only operate solely on gasoline, but with a blend of petrol and motor oil. He could have devised a 50-50 ratio. Half gas, half oil. That would have been easy to figure out. But no! The devil decreed that boat motors operate only with a 50 to 1 ratio of gasoline to motor oil. Ever tried to divide 50 into, say, 2 ½ gallons? In the hot sun, after three beers and without a calculator?
Let’s see, half of 2 ½ gallons is 1 ¼ gallons, and a 10th of 2 ½ gallons is…I have no idea. How in hell am I supposed to figure out how much motor oil to put in a 2 ½ gallon tank if it’s 50 to 1?
Many mental institutions today are filled with former boat owners, blank looks on their faces, drooling in their soup and writing on a napkin: If there are 16 ounces in a pint…wait, maybe it’s 8 ounces in a pint, or is that a peck? Let’s average it out at 12 ounces. 12 ounces divided by 50 is .24 ounces. Is that a tablespoon?
Truly, boat motors are the work of the devil.