St. Patrick's Day
A Reason to Drink (Like I Need One Of Those)

March 17 is to most males under 60 as Christmas is to any child under 12. I am sure you have seen the beer commercial where three guys in their twenties wake up on St. Patrick's Day morning in their four-leaf clover clad pajamas, race for the stairs, slide down the banister, run into the living room and over to a bunch of six-packs and beer cases placed around a tinsel and green garland draped keg in the corner where a tree would normally stand on Christmas morning. Great commercial.

Well, let me tell you, if Millisa would allow me to have a keg in the living room, I would be one of those dudes diving for the stairs, trust me. Not because I like to wake up with other guys in green pajamas, but because I think St. Patrick’s Day is the best day of the year. Since I was 21, March 17 was the most looked forward to day of any other. When else are you expected to carry on like an Irish drunk, in public, competing for the honor of having the best time of anyone that you know, or talk to, for the next week afterward.

Picture it. Sicily, 1933. Kidding! A little hooya to my babe! Seriously, picture it, 1000 Islands, 2005. A 52’ steel tug with 1700 HP, a river frozen with 24” of ice, nine guys, more beer than necessary, rum, stingers, Manhattans, and a full year of anticipation. What do you get? The annual Unofficial St. Patrick’s Day 1000 Islands Cruise.

Cast of Charaters: Clay McIntosh, 50, a Canadian, whose father is a legend in his own time, owns the tug and the business he uses it for. Mike Bresnahan, 75, the grouchiest man on the planet is a true Irishman and only acts his age when there is something in it for him. Flory Basile, 65, is the nicest guy you’d want to meet and wouldn’t miss this outing, or any other party for that matter. Wayne “Boob” Morrow, 66, (no relation), another Canadian, is along on this trip and owns a marina on the River. Ask Wayne what time it is and he’ll tell you how the watch was made. Paul Hartwick, 48, a Canadian tire salesmen with a sense of humor and knows “Big Tom” of Survivor fame. JP Bresnahan, 35, is my best friend and remembered to where his drinking shoes. John McDonald, at least 60, is my father’s Canadian accountant. Dan Morrow, 60, my father, the ‘ol boy. Me, we've met.

Starting at 7:30AM, my father, one of the most iconic non-Irish Irishman on March 17 there is, picks me up and we drive to Syracuse to pick up Flory & JP and then on to Watertown to pick up Mike. By 10:30, shortly after clearing Customs, we are standing on a dock looking at a frozen river and a half dozen other guys whoopin’ it up, trying to get a party started. We unload the truck and by 11:00, all nine of us are aboard and heading out. This is actually my first cruise, but I am familiar with the antics of these River Rats and can’t wait to break some ice.



This boat that we are on resembles nothing that any of you have probably ever had the pleasure of being aboard. At 52 feet, it is pretty huge. A 1700 HP diesel under foot provides enough power and torque to pull anything, anywhere and is absolutely necessary for this trip. A two-inch thick steel hull and high bow makes this craft a menace to anything that gets in its way. Any other boat, aside from a hovercraft or fan-boat, would disintegrate under the stress we are about put on it. And, once it is full of beer and booze, there isn’t much left to do other than to fire it up and go!
We start at a leisurely pace heading for Fiddler’s Elbow and eventually, hanging a right, make our first stop at Bobby’s. Bobby ain’t there. He’s in Florida, where he lives during the winter. Nobody is up here. Nobody is on the water. IT’S FROZEN! REMEMBER? Back under way, we swing left, slamming ice floats and shoot towards the bridge. The water opens up a little because of the current and we gain some speed to help us get through the massive amounts of frozen river that is still ahead. Once under the main Canadian span of the TI Bridge, the river is frozen from one side to the other with 18”. ONWARD!!! FULL SPEED AHEAD!!! GIVE ME A BEER!!! It takes us an hour to go a mile before the ice proves too thick and we decide to turn around. An hour back, we wind up at Paradise Island. We drop Paul on the ice and he walks to the dock. We back up fifty feet, surge ahead and slam into the edge of the frozen water, driving the bow into the air (see pic). At this point we have again proven what we set out to prove on this St. Patrick’s Day and that is that you do need to drink to have a good time. I have always maintained that if you can see your breath, it is too cold to be outside than for any other reason than to go inside. So, imagine standing on the steel floor of a steel boat on a frozen river in 30-degree temperatures without alcohol. Why? Why do it? Right. You wouldn’t. However, you would do it to drink and say you did it. I had a blast and can't wait 'til next year!