The Igljacks Go Cruising

We're spending the week at the Iglfolks', where the big goal was to get me - in my power wheelchair - into the new pontoon boat. Excited by the prospect, I didn't want to get my hopes up in case it proved impossible. I hadn't been on the water since our Alaska cruise, two years ago, and the harrowing memory of going ashore in Sitka was finally beginning to fade.

Happily, the task proved pretty easy. There's a steep hill with many steps between the house and the dock, so I met everyone else at the marina. A makeshift plywood ramp was laid down, and I rolled right on. We'd barely finished congratulating ourselves when a speedboat tore by, its wake causing my 300-pound chair to slide across the floor and lurch alarmingly back and forth. After that we made a point of crossing wakes from the side.


We zigzagged up and down the lake, passing herons and egrets as we ducked into some of the countless coves and surveyed the houses, which run the gamuts of size and taste.

I went to college in North Carolina and always thought of its southern neighbor as a bit rougher - the Billy Carter of the Carolina family, or maybe the Roger Clinton. By and large, though, the South Cackalackee side of the lake seems a lot more genteel than the facing shore, which sports an actual trailer park.

Looking for a quiet spot to drop anchor and have dinner, we ventured into some dark backwaters over there that were straight out of Deliverance: tumbledown shanties, junk piles, barking dogs on decrepit piers. We turned around before anyone emerged with a shotgun.


Our little dinner cruise was noteworthy for someone else besides me. Leaving Zap home with Emma, we took Devo along for the first boat ride of his 11 and a half years. From all appearances, he enjoyed it as much as I did: the sights, the smells, the food, the company. In fact, when Dan went kayaking today, Devo was quite perturbed to be left behind.