Awright, funny anecdote. I was 14, visiting a buddy (Tom) who lived on a canal that led to the sea. We had gone duck hunting on his rowboat with the 4HP motor.
As soon as we got into the bay, here came the snow. Whiteout. We had no compass (who needs a fargin compass in a BAY? Just turn the motor on and eventually you will hit land. That's what we did until we ran out of gas. Freezing. So we started to row. Eventually, we got to a shore, Tom recognized where we were, and we rowed back to his canal.
Understand, here: Two kids chilled to the fargin bone, exhausted. Got to his dock, and I climbed up the snow-covered slippery logs onto the dock. Tom picked up the shotguns, and leaned up to hand them to me.
He off-balanced because of the ice and snow, and fell straight down in twelve feet of freezing water... dressed in super heavy clothing. After a couple of seconds, he surfaced with a shocked-white face. I was able to get my hand around his wrist. I could feel tendons standing out in my neck as I walked backward, dragging him to safety.
Tom gets up, looks at me -- and this is the sequence of words exactly:
"Geez, Walt! You saved my life, I... OH SCHIT!! The shotguns!!"
He turned around and jumped off the damn' dock, dove down to the bottom, and came up with the shotguns.
Second time was actually easier to pull him up, since the shotguns made it so I did not have to bend down and do a dead-lift.