Going a little overboard

He's Got That Sinking Feeling

By Rick Horowitz

ABOARD THE MOTOR VESSEL COHO, IN THE STRAIT OF JUAN DE FUCA -- This is all Leonardo DiCaprio's fault, you know.

Leonardo DiCaprio's, and Kate Winslet's. If it weren't for those two, I'd be enjoying a relaxing Sunday morning, doing the international day-tripper thing, looking forward to a hearty dose of hospitality from our Neighbors to the North.

Instead, that is, of waiting for disaster.

What we're doing this morning is making the crossing from Port Angeles, which is on the Olympic Peninsula in the state of Washington, to Victoria, which is not only in, but also the capital of, the province of British Columbia. It isn't exactly a titanic journey -- an hour and a half each way, more or less -- and the skies are clearing and the waves are mostly gentle and there isn't an iceberg anywhere in sight. Of course, that's what they always say.

The pamphlet says there's room on board for 100 vehicles and up to 1,000 passengers. It doesn't say anything about fools. We've got more than our share, and this morning they all seem to be gathered at the front of the boat. (Or to put it in proper nautical lingo, "the front of the boat, ahoy matey!")

You've got your standard parent-with-kid-dangling-over-the-edge-of-something-dangerous type of fool, of course. These folks don't limit themselves to maritime adventures, I realize; I've seen plenty of them on dry land, too, accompanying their little ones to cliff ledges and such, supremely confident that their tyke won't make a sudden move, or that the tiny bit of toddler togs they've got in their hands won't tear to shreds if he does.

In the shipboard version of this particular idiocy, Daddy's got Baby perched on the railing for a better view. (And Ricky's trying really hard not to lunge at them to pull Baby back to safety.)

But I've been running into this kind of foolishness everywhere -- on the land and on the sea -- and practically forever. I'm almost resigned to it. But now there's a new version of this foolishness specially designed for boats.

I'm talking about The Move.

You know exactly what I'm talking about. The Move. From The Movie.

You saw The Movie. You saw the way Leonardo climbed up on that thing at the very tip of the boat. (Or technically speaking, "that thing at the very tip of the boat, land ho!") You saw the way he tilted forward and spread his arms wide -- one part Jesus, two parts hood ornament. And you saw the way he shouted, "I'm the king of the world!!" Very impressive. Very exciting.

Cue the copycats.

Five times on our way to Victoria -- five times already, in less than 90 minutes! -- somebody has decided to be Leonardo. Five different people -- males and females, adults and adolescents -- have found themselves a proper perch, leaned into the wind and assumed the position.

Very ridiculous. They're blocking the view. Very dangerous? Maybe so, maybe no.

True, these folks aren't hanging out there nearly as far as Leo was. On the other hand, these folks aren't using special effects to stake their claim to fame either. They're on a real boat, over real water, with real bumps and real bounces. Nobody's given gravity the day off, and nobody's told the killer orcas that it's bad for business to munch on soggy tourists, even stupid ones.

Have I mentioned the killer orcas?

Yes indeed -- it's right there in the newspaper: dozens of killer orcas, desperate for food and leaving their normal habitats for the first time in a quarter century to find some. Heading south. Heading -- wouldn't you know it? -- right in our direction.

So tell me: When does the relaxing part start?

Posted 9/19/00. You can start relaxing right here at "Rick's" -- get your fresh stuff twice every week!

Rick Horowitz is a syndicated columnist, TV commentator, writing coach and public speaker

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