The Time we Amost Drowned.

Once we used to live in the Okanagan Valley, in Vernon to be accurate, and had one of our biggest "adventures" on Okanagan Lake.
A friend was moving away, and a bunch of us decided to hold a farewell party at one person's cottage on the West side of the lake, with hot-dogs and burgers and other goodies.  Unfortunately, no one remembered the buns.  Some of us volunteered to take a boat ride across the lake to Okanagan Landing and get buns from the store by the Marina.  Five of us boarded a 16foot vessel, 3 guys up front, and two girls, one being my wife, in the seats facing the stern.  The convertible top was up, and we were lightly dressed for the relatively warm evening.
Now Lake Okanagan is some 70 miles long, and over 2 miles wide where we were leaving from.  Our route would take us East, and then past the point of the big peninsular into Beachcomber Bay, and Northeast to the Marina.  The big 65 horse motor was roaring at full throttle, and we had all our running lights on, as darkness was falling fast.  We rounded the point, well clear of shore trying to stay in the middle of the waterway, when suddenly we men up front heard a male voice yell "Look out"!
Mike reflexively swerved the boat to port, and as we tilted over, we hit something.  The boat tipped completely over on her port side and the bow went right under the water as we shuddered to a stop.  Water and debris swirled around us in the open cabin are, with the canvas top collapsed and ropes tangling like the tentacles of an octopus.
Five of us were trapped beneath the capsized boat in what seemed like a maelstrom of agitated water.  I fought my way free and pulled myself out from under by the side of the boat at the stern.  Our running lights were still glowing beneath the water, and another, smaller boat was drifting nearby, disabled by our cutting its fuel line when we clipped its stern.  Paddles, life-jackets and a Captain's Cap were floating on the surface, and then another head appeared on the other side of our boat.
Where was my wife?  I reached my arm under the side of the boat, and felt a hand.  I just knew it belonged to her!  I grasped it and pulled her spluttering out from under.  Now she was not much of a swimmer, especially in 300 feet of water, so I helped her get over to the other boat.  Now it had two occupants, a man and his wife, who was irate that her newly done hairdo had got splashed by our boat!  With their help, we got her aboard.
Meanwhile the other fellow, the third man, had surfaced, but the other girl was still unaccounted for.  It turned out that she could not swim, but had kept her head, and held on inside the boat breathing air that was trapped in there.  Her boyfriend went back under and got her out and over to the other boat.  Now we were three guys swimming around rescuing whatever was useful that was floating around, and tying to bowline from our boat to the stern of the disabled one.
After an unsuccessful attempt to remove the fuel line from our boat, in hopes of using it as a replacement for the damaged one on the smaller boat, we all climbed in, and started paddling back towards our original point of departure.
By now it was as dark as the inside of a cave, and with wet clothes I started to shiver and go into shock.  My wife's purse, with all sorts of valuable things, including my paycheque, had sunk, but our hostess on board was still bemoaning her ruined hairdo.
We asked if it had been they who had yelled "Look out", but they said not.  It was none of us, and to this day, I have to believe it was a voice from heaven.
Progress paddling was horribly slow, towing the upturned boat behind us, and we started to wonder if we would ever reach landfall.  Pitch dark, and no power to any lights on the 14 foot boat, left us as an invisible floating hazard.  Then, to our total amazement, we heard the sound of a small outboard motor and saw the light of a flashlight approaching from the West side of Beachcomber Bay.
From out the gloom came an aluminum car-top fishing boat with two men in it.  One of them, Bill, was an acquaintance of mine.  They had come to rescue us!
We ended up taking their gas line, tying them up to the stern of our capsized boat, and using the gas line to fix the engine on the boat that we were all in.  Its 45 horse Johnson worked hard, but we were actually under way!  Bill guided the flotilla back to his cottage, and once there we all disembarked. He allowed the couple we had hit to borrow his fuel line to go home.
The other one of our rescuers was a diver, so he unbolted the 65 horse motor from our boat, and then the men were able to turn it right side up and haul it ashore.
That was when we heard "the rest of the story".  The young diver was next door to Bill, and he had been out enjoying the evening, when he had an overpowering feeling that someone was in trouble somewhere far out on the lake.  Not having a boat of his own, he woke Bill up and persuaded him to get his fishing boat, and to go out on the lake to see what they could find.  Like the proverbial "needle in a haystack", they found us.
By the time we got a lift around to Westside Road and back to where the party was, it was pretty well over.  No one could figure out why we gone for five hours!  We told our story briefly, and recovered our car to drive home.
Next morning, my wife's Mother phoned from Alberta.  She was so worried because the evening before she had an oppressive feeling that we were in danger, and had been praying up a storm for our safety.  Needless to say, we thanked her profusely for her prayers, and assured her that all were well.