The Swimming Indian Memorial Stateroom

This is a story about a very good friend of mine. We call him Indian. Yes, he is an American Indian. Good guy, good friend, likes to drink.

We were heading down the Ohio river to a very nice marina called Prima in Moundsville, WV. Six of us onboard. We arrive and set up the boat at the dock for the night. Then we have our dinner in the marina complex. Afterward, we head into the nightclub for some R & R. Indian is a single man and has designs on the local women. Not having much luck, he starts drinking. After a while I watch him drink down about $100 worth of schnapps. Then a good looking girl arrives alone. She spots us sitting at the bar, three guys without women. She walks by Bart (another of my crew), see's a wedding ring and moves onto me. Another wedding ring, she heads for Indian. No ring. She pulls up next to him and says hi. Indian (way too happy at this point) looks at her and says "Ahwawawawa" or something to that effect. She throws up her hands and heads off. We laugh. Indian decides he wants to go back to the boat. He's gonna need help. Bart and I take up flanking positions and help him down the dock. We get to the turn on the dock and Indian decides he needs to use a bathroom right now. There is a lamp pole sticking through the dock, so we decide he can hang onto this and do his business. We make sure he is steady, and Bart and I leave him to his privacy. SPLASH! Oh, no.

We start fishing him out, but he is fighting us saying "Wanna swim, wanna swim". OK I say, but you're going to wear a vest. So he's swimming around the dock, drinking a beer and singing. His night we think, leave him to it. Pretty soon he gets quiet. Indian, we yell. Nothing. He's passed out. And heading down river. So we grab a boat hook and start running down the riverbank. Catch up to him a few hundred feet down and pull him in. He's not helping us move him, like a sack of potatoes this guy. So we decide to set up a mini camp right there on the bank. Build a fire to keep him warm. Bart says he'll stay with Indian and I head back to the boat.

All is well now so I head to bed. About two hours later I hear a commotion out on deck. Seems Indian woke up and wanted to get back on the boat. Well, it would have been a long walk up to the road and thru the marina, but a short swim straight to the boat. Shortest distance between two points and all that. He takes off swimming, never woke Bart up, and gets to the boat. Another friend of mine is sleeping on deck right in front of the boarding ladder. You guessed it. Sopping wet Indian falls on previously dry friend in the middle of the night. Hilarity ensues. I never came out of the cabin. Knew better.

Well, the next morning I tell Indian (who is hiding in the cabin due to embarrassment) to come on up to breakfast. He says no, he can't face the people. I tell him no one remembers, and besides, no one is here, it's early in the morning. I convince him. So he comes out on deck to a standing ovation from last nights crowd. Seems they all like to come back in the morning for breakfast. So I lied, I tell him. Have you ever seen an Indian blush?

That is the story of how my boat's master stateroom got it's name. The Swimming Indian Memorial Stateroom.