A day or two after taking delivery I coaxed my son-in-law into meeting me at the marina, after work, for an evening of "BUMPER DRILLS".  I am not sure where the term actually came from but I always took it to mean making practice approaches at piers.  Good enough for a man-o-war, good enough for us.  We would master the inport basics.

    As I remember it, it was drizzling, cool,  and gray, a typical New England August evening. As we started to get the boat ready for training a couple of other boat owners sauntered by to welcome us to the fold and find out a little about us and the boat.  We made small talk, "Sure looks like a nice rollerbejesus you have there!"   "Thank you!' I replied.   "I think my boat is fiberglass".  A lot of nodding.  We would gain expertise in "talking the talk" later.  What should've been and "indicator" of things to come was the fact that our HONDA 9.9 would not idle.  Two speeds, WARP and stall.  Sure glad the engine was checked out by the broker's marina!  I only had three choices, Ahead Flank, Back Emergency, and real quiet.  Seemed to simplify things somewhat.

    The basic layout had us parked along the seawall at one corner of a basin formed by two piers jutting out into the river.  The northern  pier has three finger piers extending out into the basin.  The piers that jut out into the river are not a perfect 90 degree angle so the basin may be 150 feet at the seawall but 100 feet at the opening.

    After tossing off the lines we sped out of the basin and into the river to get a feel for the engine and tiller.  We were moving at quite a clip but the boat was extremely manueverable without turning the outboard.  This was actually fun!  My son-in-law and I decided that after zinging around a bit we would pull into the basin slowly down the southern most side and just "whip" the boat to port and stop right at our spot along the seawall.  Sounded easy enough.

    The first few attempts were aborted by hard rudder turns or "backing down" to gain a feel for what the boat could and could not do.  Maybe after the turn along the seawall we would stop just beyond our place, and back in.  Sounded like a plan.  We were also being quietly observed by several of the other boat owners from their various boats around the basin.  Our approach along the southern side was masterful, if not a tad quick.  The turn hard to port brought us parallel to the seawall as I shifted the engine to neutral to observe the situation before shifting to reverse to stop us.  Could be "text book" I thought.  It was here that time shifted to "Six Million Dollar Man running" slow as I noticed we were not slowing but speeding down along the seawall into the "corner of death".  Since the northern side of the basin angled in and had several finger piers extending into the basin, this left the northern most corner a place that once you passed a certain point, you could not turn out of it without hitting something, you could only back out, hence, the "corner of death".

    I was still in gear!  I immediately slammed the engine astern and put the throttle into the stops.  The bow had just passed the point of no return into the corner of death.  My son-in-law ran to the bow pulpit.  People were starting to move quickly toward our areas of potential impact.  It was at this point I felt the helpless "Exxon Valdez"ish,  "All over but the screaming and shouting" feeling.  Time was really slowing down now.  Was my son-in-law going to perform the sacrificial "Human Fender" act at the last minute?  I was sizing up which boat I was going to hit.  Power or sail?  Aluminum or fiberglass?  I decided that for my first official collision it would be with a power boat and held the tiller steady.  I decided amidships would be a nice touch.  The water boiled behind us as the engine screamed.  By now people had reached the "target" boat.  Hell, we had an easy three feet left when the boat stopped it's forward motion.

    I don't recall what fancy manuevers I did after that.  The main thought was to get back to our spot, safely tied to the pier.  I did not have to cut the stainless steel from under my son-in-law's grip on the bow pulpit and after a while he came back to the cockpit on his own.  I had at least five people standing by to handle lines when we tied up.  Made lots of new friends!  For the remainder of that season we ALWAYS had many people on hand when we turned into the basin.  What a relaxing hobby!