Bad at Boat Maintenance. Expert at Getting Towed.

There I sat, four miles out on Lake Superior. On a Monday. In April. Not a single boat in sight.
The steering wheel that I had been turning so gingerly for the last two seasons finally got the best of me. I heard an audible "snap" as I cranked the wheel and the steering cable broke — a steering cable I could have fixed in an hour at any point during the last two summers. Some might argue this wasn’t my finest decision, but it wouldn’t be the first time a small oversight turned into a long ride home.
I would have plenty of time to think about my decision as I waited for the local search and rescue boat to tow me back to the dock. I reflected on multiple similar occurrences and realized I’ve been towed enough times now that I consider myself something of an expert. With that in mind, here’s my guide to boat towing etiquette.
Maintenance Is Optional (Until It Isn’t)

First, let’s talk boat maintenance. You can’t catch fish while your boat is in the garage. Time spent tuning up your motor, installing spark plugs and replacing impellers is time you won’t be fishing. Sticky throttle cable? Yank it backwards. Has your steering become a two-man job? A little elbow grease is easier to add than expensive marine grease. Remember, maintenance time equals lost fishing time.
Ignore boat maintenance long enough, and your boat will retaliate and conk out on you. Some people keep a tool kit on board, but I say a tool kit takes up space that would be better occupied by tackle or a cooler of beer.
If your boat leaves you stranded, you may be able to use a paddle or trolling motor back to the dock With ingenuity, you might be able to duct tape your paddle to the motor and use it as a tiller if your steering system fails.
Asking For Help Is a Last Resort

Honestly, I frown on getting help from a passing boat, but if you’ve exhausted all possibilities, it's time to face it. And if your steering cable goes out and your boat is spinning in circles, I recommend you make this decision sooner than later because dizziness can severely affect your judgment.
You may be able to flag down a passing boat with frantic arm waving. Failing that, you could shoot a flare … unless your drunk uncle blasted off all your flares last Fourth of July.
After your rescuers tow you to the dock, you may notice a little thing some people call a conscious, that can actually make you feel … guilty. Next thing you know, you’re reaching into your wallet for gas money, or worse … you may feel obligated to offer your rescuers beer. Now there you sit with a boat that won’t run and no means to drown your sorrows.

A better bet is to call search and rescue. They won’t accept beer or gas money as some sort of moral code. Fools! Be smart when making a distress call. In theory, you should stay calm. In practice, panic tends to happen naturally when you’re spinning in circles.
When they approach, wearing your life preserver will win you some points. But they won’t let you ride in your boat for the tow. They’ll make you ride in theirs because there’s a possibility your boat could dive under and sink.
You know your boat is a piece of junk anyway. It’s a death trap that every morning thinks to itself: “This is the day. I’m doing it! I’m finally sinking that jerk!”
As a result, you won’t hesitate to leap onto the safety of the rescuing vessel. Hugging the helm of the rescue vessel is acceptable. Kissing the floor of the boat is taking it a bit far. I usually hurry to the bow to get as far from my death trap as possible.
Say the Right Things During the Tow

While the tow is underway, it’s polite to make chitchat to distract all aboard from the levity of the situation, but watch what you say. For example, the crew will usually balk at your suggestion to make use of the time by trolling all the way back. Likewise, they’re usually not receptive to detouring a half-mile, so you can use side-imaging to check if there are any fish on your favorite reef. Also, try to refrain from glancing at the tachometer and then saying, “Wow, this old crate is really sucking down the gas! Glad my tax dollars are paying for this!” Another comment that may get you thrown overboard is, “Say, can’t you push this old hack a bit faster? I’ve got a tee time to make.”
Be gracious to your rescuers and be confident that they know what they’re doing. Refrain from suggesting any shortcuts, even if they’re good ones. And don’t expect them to thank you, even though they should. How else are they going to get actual on-the-water training?
Navigating the Return to Land

Approaching the landing with your crippled vessel in tow is the worst part. All eyes are on you. Crowds will be gathered, cheering the rescuers while jeering at you, the idiot who is being rescued, probably because of your own stupidity. At this point, I often ask to be placed in a body bag. People have more sympathy for you if you’re in a body bag. And it hides your identity so you don’t have to face ridicule.
Of course, if you’ve followed any of this advice, by now your rescuers have probably already placed you in a body bag.
Four Miles of Reflection
Being towed four miles across Lake Superior in April provides plenty of time to reflect on poor decisions. But if you prioritize maintenance like I do, at least now you’ll know how to behave when someone comes to your rescue.

Joe Shead is an accomplished outdoor writer, hunter, fishing guide and multi-species angler from Minnesota who will fish for anything, even if it won’t bite. Check out more of his work at goshedhunting.com and superiorexperiencecharters.com.