Sarley: How we were rescued from our fishing excursion on Lake Michigan

This is going to be the end of my saga about my experience at the world’s largest professional walleye tournament.

To recap, we had just speared a massive wave, completely inundating us. We were totally soaked and sitting in 40-degree temperatures with stiff winds. We were already late for the weigh-in and had released our solitary fish.

We were coming off the big lake and heading into Green Bay when the big 225-horse engine began to sputter. The motor quickly died. There we were, bobbing like a cork and powerless. I knew we were out of gas. The pro fired up his 9.9 horsepower kicker motor, but guess what? Dead. At that moment the winds stopped. No help from Mother Nature.

Our only option was to use our electric trolling motor. We were still about 25 miles from port and our speed was 2 mph. It was more than likely that we would freeze to death or succumb to hypothermia.

When we speared the wave, our hand-held marine radio and cellphone had gone in the drink. I said we needed to use the dash-mounted marine radio to call for help. The pro had the radio pulled for service and it wasn’t reconnected. I located a tool kit, laid on my back under the dash and wired the pro’s radio back in for him.

I began calling out for the Coast Guard. Over and over I kept paging, yet I received no answer. Time was definitely running out.

My calls for help grew less and less hopeful. Suddenly, a response. It was the good old U.S. Coast Guard.

They asked if we were a threat to navigation or if there was a critical injury on board our craft. People who just run out of gas are left to their own devices for rescue. Fortunately, the Coast Guard said that with the weather, our wet bodies would never make it without their help, and they would be on their way to get us.

In addition to the cost of the Coast Guard rescue, the pro would also receive a fine because he had never paid for or received his proper Coast Guard registration numbers. If you ever need to have your car towed, don’t complain about the cost. It is small change compared to having to foot the bill for a complete Coast Guard squadron coming out to haul you to shore.

This Coast Guard unit was top flight. The crew was polished, professional and courteous. This branch of the military doesn’t get enough credit for what they do. They are tremendous.

They pulled me onto their cruiser. They stripped me and put me into one of those big orange full-body lifesaving wraps. How embarrassing.

The commander asked me if I knew how big the waves had been earlier that day on Lake Michigan. “Sure,” I replied. “My pro said they were 4-footers.”

His eyes gaped in astonishment and he said, “4-footers. Those were 8-to-9-footers, consistently all day, with the biggest ones at 10 or 11 feet. You should never have been out there in a fishing boat. It’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

We arrived in port at 10:30 p.m., a mere seven hours late.

The next morning I couldn’t move. The buffeting that my body had received from the previous day’s waves had taken its toll. My neck was stiff. My arms were stiff. My ribs hurt when I inhaled. My ribs hurt when I exhaled. My head throbbed.

I drove to Chicago from Green Bay at 55 mph all the way in the right-hand lane because I was so stiff that I couldn’t turn my head enough to see to change lanes.

Driving back, I finally realized how close I had come to losing my life on Lake Michigan the prior day. I spent a good amount of time in prayer and thanking the Lord for watching over me. I could not have been more thankful.

By the way, I had fallen from 21st place to 122nd based on my Day 2 performance. Needless to say, there was no check waiting for me with my name on it.

• Daily Herald Outdoors columnist Steve Sarley can be reached at sarfishing@yahoo.com.