Boat Jokes

I'm a big boat advocate.

My wife Carol and I are having, in terms of nautical lingo, "a squall." My wife, she's kinda uppity, even for someone who's uppity. Even uppity people think she's uppity. And the most uppity people just think she's a bitch. Uppity boaters refer to her as an anchor. I thought that was just a figure of speech until my uppity friend threw her off my boat The Los Angeles Police Department. We had a pretty good laugh about it until the Coast Guard got there and they had to fish her out of the reef. Those guys at the Coast Guard wouldn't know a good joke if it dodged military service, shamed their father who was in the Navy and reported directly to their funny bone. They give boats a bad name.

I got this joke:

Knock Knock. Who's there? My wife Carol. My wife Carol who? Yep, she's in the reef again.

They never laugh at that one. They always get all uppity, more uppity than Carol and they yell "This is battery!' And then I yell back "No, that's Carol."

Geez, with all the times I had to call them, they should know that by now.

Apparently, the court system does not have a sense of humor, either. They threatened to take my boating license away if they had one more complaint from the Coast Guard. Damn Coast Guard. They truly are the Bendict Arnold of boating society.

She can swim. That's what makes it funny. If she couldn't swim, that's what would make it a crime. You know what else is a crime? Taking my boat away. That would be a crime against humanity. That would also be a crime against boats.

My golf and boat problem has been answered

I like boats. I don't like golf. I've already blogged about this. I said that I wouldn't play golf unless they somehow managed to build a golf course on a boat.

Well, they did. This is a picture of the S.S. Tiger Woods. That's right, Tiger Woods has made so much money that he was able to purchase an aircraft carrier, design a golf course and build his golf course on his aircraft carrier. Mr. Woods, I applaud your enthusiasm for boats. You are truly a visionary in the boat golfing community. People right now are seeing this picture and literally falling off boats in amazement. It's a boat miracle. If I could, I would give you a gold medal. On that medal would be a picture of a boat. And under that boat it would say "Tiger Woods is a boating bad ass."

I cant waste my money on medals though, cause I have to save that money for more boats and boating insurance. Oh, and I have to save up money for one of my boating related lawsuits. PETA is suing me for bludgeoning a dolphin to death with my seven iron. They say I shouldn't have flogged the dolphin with my club, but I say, if you're gonna squeak like a dog toy stuck under a jackhammer, you are gonna eat PING ZING. Suck on that Flipper!

And I might have also thrown my putter at a Coast Guard employee. But, come on, that's not even a crime in most states now. My love of boats knows no bounds, but even I wouldn't join the coast guard. That's the equivalent of being an unemployed clown when the circus is in town. It's just embarrassing. Boating embarrassing.

Tiger, all I can give you is a hearty salute and an invitation to my annual "Captain Club" dinner. It's on one of my yachts called "It's no a U-Boat, it's a We-Boat." I expect to see you there Captain Woods. Wear your green jacket.

Boating Enthusiast Digest's Boater Hall of Fame

Now Mr. Howell, there is a guy you could count on. He was a billionaire! You don’t just wake up one day with that kind of money. You have to earn that money by swindling honest, hard working people out of millions of dollars in shady real estate transactions and monopolizing industries such as diamond mines and railroads. The man owned downtown Denver for God’s sake! That has to make you at least partial mayor or possibly supreme dictator of Denver. Imagine he and his bear Teddy, ruling Denver with an iron fist filled with crisp $100 bills, just snarking it up and perusing the streets, looking for floozies. I would have happily let Mr. Howell take the wheel of my boat and drive it all the way to the bank. I can tell you this much, he would have never stood for the laughable Denver Nuggets.

Also, he went to Harvard. All boatsmen know Harvard to be the boating elite. The joke at Harvard is, “How do you steer you ship into Harvard’s port?” Answer: “You hire somebody else to do it for you. You didn’t buy that diamond mine to do your own yachting.” I mean, this is the same man who brought tens of thousands of dollars in cash on a three hour boat ride. Being rich means you gotta be prepared to buy your way out of any situation. Any situation, except being stuck on some desolate island in the Pacific. Even then, it’s good to have some liquidity in those types of situations and Mr. Howell knew this. You can bet your ass he would have bought the first boat that came ashore and sailed right back to Denver. This is called crude boating acumen. You either have it or you stay stranded on islands for the rest of your life.

He had a wife named Lovey. His wife had a sense of “noblesse oblige.” That means that rich people gotta act rich, but they still have to take care of the other people who aren‘t as rich. That’s where the phrase “the rich get richer and the poor get brutally lectured,” comes from. I know this because I have Wikipedia on my boat and all of the Gilligan’s Island episodes on DVD.

What’s my point? What does this have to do with boats?

Everything.

Mr. Howell didn’t have A boat, he probably had like 1000 boats. They could have called “Howell’s Navy” and he could have had a 1000 boat march in the marina to protest to faulty navigation systems or possibly the Coast Guard’s inefficiency in finding lost billlionaires on a deserted islands. . He could have sailed on Washington via Lincoln’s reflecting pool. You want something to reflect on? Reflect on several hundred cannon laden yachts and warships launching cannonballs into the Jefferson Memorial. Imagine all those yachts filled to the brim with hoighty-toighty tightwad billionaires screaming, “Nuah, Nuah, Fire the cannons, Lovey! Nuha Nuha.” I bet you weren‘t counting on that Department of Homeland Security!

That is of course, if he could have gotten off of that island.

Now as I have stated before, I like boats. This guy was a land baron and I still liked him more than the Skipper. He owned a diamond mine, a railroad, and several large corporations. I don’t know for sure, and have no factual information to back this statement up, but I like to think that one of those corporations made boats or boating accessories.

And this is why I am making Thurston Howell III the first member of the Boating Enthusiast Digest’s Hall of Fame. Congratulations Mr. Howell, now if you can just help me get through all the red tape in buying my Cold War Era aircraft carrier, I’ll be on my way.



You can't fathom that someone would waste his time on yours on such a ridiculous, far reaching boating premise? What I can’t fathom is how I didn’t think of this sooner.

Why I hate "The Skipper" on Gilligan's Island: Part I

"Speaking of "portly." I guess we know where all those "Free lunches went."

I like boats. I like stories about boats, I like books about boats, movies about boats and of course television shows that revolve around boats and/or boating. I sometimes watch/read/watch and read about boats while I am on my boat, boating at the same time. That’s like 2 times the boating power of just regular boating. Actually that’s like boating squared. It’s ironic and enjoyable and ironically enjoyable. You know what else is enjoyable? My boat “The Los Angeles Police Department.” I enjoy schooning the hell out of it.

I like the show Gilligan’s Island, even though Gilligan had no right to lay claim to the Island as his own. He was completely out of line by declaring himself supreme ruler and namer of the island. They didn't even vote! Those people should have revolted in order to bring the tyranny of the dork in the red shirt and goofy hat down.

I didn’t like the Skipper either. He wasn’t just a bad captain, he was a bad human being. The Skipper sucked because he was a boat ruiner. He was the captain of that ship and only had to go on a three hour tour. Let me repeat, a three hour tour. And what did he do? He wrecked his boat and put the lives of his fellow boat enthusiasts and passengers in great peril by getting caught in a storm and wrecking a perfectly functional nautical vessel. There's this thing called the National Weather Bureau. You should look into that before reenacting your version of what happened to the Titanic.

First of all, a good captain is always supposed to go down with his ship. That’s not an option, that’s a rule. It’s boat rule # 3, right behind always have automatic weapons in case of pirate attacks and don’t steer your ship into rocks. You broke all three, and so you go down with the S.S. Minnow. When that tiny boat sinks to Davy Jones’ Locker, you sail that baby right down into the deep blue abyss. No pit stops at Burger King for Double Whoppers or chasing the Gravy Boat to Turkey Town. Your fat ass sinks with the Minnow. It’s that simple.

Then when he got to the island, he could never fix the boat. They were on that island for like 10 damn years! You couldn’t fix a hole in the hull in 10 years? They ought to revoke your captain’s license and your man license. Grow a pair and fix the hull you fat moron. And take that hat off because it’s insulting to all the other boat captains who haven’t crashed their boat into a rocky lagoon and been stranded on a deserted island for the past 40 years. It was a tiny ship. I know this because it said so in the song. Now take your tiny brain and grab a bamboo wrench and get to fixing fatty.

You were in the Navy for god’s sake, you should know how to do these things. Did you work on a destroyer? Because you are a destroyer. A destroyer of boats!

Were you in the regular Navy or the Lazy Navy? I guess by the size of your gut we can assume it’s the later. How could you be stuck on an island with nothing to eat but coconuts and fish and still get fatter? Are you gonna fix that boat or just keep being not skinny. The Harlem Globetrotters where there like 7 times and they got off the island every single time. No problem at all, they would play a game and a day later they would leave. 7 freaking times! And I bet they only had a limited knowledge of boats and shipmanship. They were basketball players and even they found a way to get off that island. The only basketball person who didn’t know when to flee a sinking ship was Isiah Thomas and the Knicks ended up pushing him off with cement shoes somewhere in the mighty Hudson River. How do you keep being a monumental screw-up and still call yourself a captain? You couldn’t have been in McHale’s Navy or Mama’s family.

Is Gilligan always thwarting your attempts to get rescued by another boat? Kill him. Just get it over with. He screws up everything anyway. Just take him out to the cove and hold his head under the water till the bubbles stop coming up. Tell him there’s a goofy hat sale out there and he’ll probably drown himself trying on trucker hats that say “I suck at life.” You wrecked that boat and you owe it to those people like Mary Ann and Mr. Howell to get them off that island. I mean he’s a moron, dead weight. He always mentions how he misses television. Won’t he be surprised when he gets back and finds out he’s actually on television. Another case of boating irony squared.

To be contimued...

Boating accidents brought to you by Bill Dance

I like boats. I don't like fishing that much. I do however enjoy people falling off boats. Some would argue that falling off boats or boat related injuries are not funny. Those people would be wrong. Throughout the years fishing has made for some of the all-time great boating bloopers and no one has been more blooper blessed than Bill Dance. Bill has a boat. Bill has a boatload of boat bloopers. Bill may also have some sort of mental issue, but more importantly he has a boat. Here are Bill's top 10 fishing moments with narration by Sir Boats-A-Lot

10. Colorado blades are an important part of any outboard motor with Colorado blades. I personally like them more than Oklahoma blades and the ever dangerous Nevada sling blade. (notice Bill's boat)


9. Call the boat doctor Bill has caught himself a nose.


8. Bill seems to go through a lot of fishing poles by way of slamming them in truck doors, getting them caught in ceiling fans and just generally not paying attention to anything except boating and fishing. It's safe to say NASA won't be calling Bill, even if they find fish on Mars.


7. Bill Dance has probably gone through about $100,000 worth of camera equipment over the years. Dropping them off of his boat and into some of the United States most popular lakes and rivers over his career. So remember, wherever there's a boat, Bill Dance has probably ruined a $5000 camera there.


6. Rule #1 when launching a boat - have somebody in it. Unless it's one of those boats with Knight Rider capabilities, which if it does, you probably have much bigger problems then launching your boat with no one in it.


5. You'd think if you launched boats for, I dunno, everyday for the last 30 years that you would remember to take the straps off when launching your boat. Of course after the 80th time something like this happened, you'd also think you would get a new crew that knew what the hell was going on. You my friend, would be wrong on both accounts.


4. Boats and snakes haven't gone together since Noah invited them onto the most important boat in history. Bill doesn't captain an Ark, but he certainly has a lot of run-ins with snakes on his boat.


3. Bill's a boater and a fisherman. He is not a construction worker and not on the city zoning board. With that said, one could see how this might happen.


2. The key to boating success is being prepared when boating. Essentials to being well prepared are life preservers, coolers, cold beer, an extra battery and not moving the boat when on-loading. If boating with Bill, it's essential to put on the life preserver as soon as you wake-up in the morning.


1. Boat maintenance is the most important part of being a good boat owner. Boats are the most essential part of life, therefore, one must take every precaution to ensure that he or she's boat is always handled with the utmost care.

My court orders me to post notes from my psychologist

I like boats. I don't like my shrink. I am court ordered to post this.

From the desk of Arthur Jantov, PsychologistDuring our first meeting, Sir Boats-A-Lot, who I will from here on refer to as “Boatsie Collins”, “Boatsie C.” or just “Boatsie” (hey I can have some fun in my life too, OK?) was insistent to the point of threatening my life with a paperweight if I did not have the latest issues of the following boating magazines in my office: “Boater’s Digest,” “Wooden Ships in a Bottle Digest,” “Motorboating,” “Schooner’s Pleasure,” and “Sir Salty’s Ship List Quartely.” In the bathroom he requested (or simply threatened me with my “Carpe Diem” paperweight again) that I have “Chicks ‘n’ Ships” and “Motorboating” (the swimsuit issue). (I must say, the Motorboating swimsuit issue is very tastefully done. I wonder if the photographer is Italian?). He was satiated only when he saw the little wooden ship in the bottle on my bookshelves. When he inquired of me if I had built “this magnificent vessel of infinite beauty,” I told him that my son had built it and he insisted that he meet my son.

So, I agreed to take him all the way to Marion, Massachusetts from Bath, North Carolina to see my son… he had broken the bottle over my desk and was holding the jagged remains to my neck. It was an uncomfortable road trip, to be sure.

On the first four hours of the car trip, it was impossible to steer him away from talking about his passion. When I asked him about his Mother, it was a half hour dissertation on Duck Boats. When I asked about his childhood, he talked about the time he went on Nipsy Russel’s yacht in Cabo. Hell, he even ate fish and chips when we stopped at Denny’s!Did you see that season of The Real World where that girl Frankie had an unusual phobia of big boats? Boatsie C. has just the opposite; I would go so far as to say he has a boating fetish…

When we arrived at my son’s quaint house on Buzzard’s Bay, he sprung himself from the car as it was moving and ran down to the beach. After I had safely parked the car, I found him getting into a fist fight with a local fisherman. When I asked what had happened, he replied the fisherman was “fishing in illegal waters,” and then tried to attack the man with a fishing rod. Jesus, he has come out of the bathroom and he looks drunker and more homicidal than usual! I must chronicle this strange journey later when it is safer…

As you can see my shink is a real douchebag and is a boat hater.

I had to go to Boataholic Anonymous

Let me start off by saying I like boats.

My wife Carol made me go to Boataholics Anonymous today. I don't appreciate that because it takes time away from boating and boating related activities, not unlike boating. I didn't understand why I had to go. I'm not addicted to boatahol, I've never even SEEN boatahol!

She said I had to go to save my marriage. I said, I'd rather be married to my boat. And she said a union between a man and a boat wasn't a legal marrigae in our state. She had a point. Damn right-wing fascists and their anti-boat conspiracies. Next year, I'm writing in Ahab when I vote. Deal with that you Nixon loving, land sodomizers.

I have a few issues with Boataholics Anonymous that I'd like to share now:

1. There are no boats.

2. It's not really anonymous is it? The first thing they do is tell me to stand up and say my name. That's purposely misleading and I made a note of it in my notepad that has a 1800's warship on it.

3. There are NO BOATS!

4. The place where it meets is in a classroom right next to Alcoholics Anonymous and some 12-step program dealing with sex. (I saw you there Mrs. Johnson and I am disgusted. Don't think for one minute that I didn't make a note in my boat notepad.) This is detestable. I don't want to be around those people. Getting away from those types of people are the reason I got a boat in the first place. Plus, I think one of them was on meth or PCP or goofballs. I never saw anyone on any of those things before, but I like to think of myself as a good judge of character and drug abuse, and more importantly boats.

5. Did I mention there were no boats!?!?

We had to go around the room and tell a story about our boat addiction. I started off by saying that I didn't have a boating addiction and then told them about my uppity wife Carol and her unreasonable boat related demands. Actually, first I stood up and gave them a fake name, Launchpad McQuack (suck on that you anti-boat Nazis! You'll never find me!)

After I explained my situation, they wanted a story. Fine. I gave them a story. A boat story.

I told them about the time I was in a Boater's Warehouse and I wanted to try out this sweet rowboat they had, but the manager informed me that he didn't have a pool or artificial lake in the back where I could row that bitch out and see what she could do. After a good 20 minute scolding in which I managed to insult the manager's store, mother and masculinity; I took the boat out to the fountain in the middle of the mall to get a feel for the oar control. Of course this was after the manager stopped crying. I'd say there was a good 45 minute gap in there, but that's another whole story.

So I'm out there in this boat just minding my own business and kids start throwing pennies at me. This was insulting to both me and my soon to be new boat. Long story short, when the cops showed up I told them that the children deserved their numerous bruises and abbrasions, I don't know how a bear got lose in the shopping mall and the Abercrombie and Fitch was on fire before I even set sail on the open waters of the fountain. I then proceeded to tell them about my sweet new boat.

4 hours later I finished my story. It was already time to go. Nobody else had time to tell their boat story, but it's OK cause I didn't really want to hear their stupid stories anyway. Don't tell my wife Carol, but next week I'm skipping B.A. to go to Boater's Warehouse again. Restraining order or not.

And don't you make a peep Mrs. Johnson or I'll tell the neighbors what a torrid, sultry life you live outside of your Sunday school class. You should be as disgusted with yourself as me and my boat are of you, you lush.