"Back her off a couple knots Jack. Looks like there’s something ahead laying off the south bank of the slough". Thaddeus Jorgonson, better known as "Tiny" stood on the prow of a barge being pushed up the Sammamish Slough by The Lolly Foss. He gripped the portable radio pensively as he stared out at the dark channel ahead. What appeared to be a small pile-driving rig jutted out into the channel making passage questionable.

Jack and Tiny were Foss Tug and Barge’s local swingshift barge crew. Tonight they were transferring a barge loaded with fireworks mortars up to Lake Sammamish for a fourth of July display.

Jack slowed the tug to five knots knowing that if the barge dug into the slough’s north bank he’d be able to back off and possibly get another run at the breech. "What’s the shaving distance up there Tiny?"

"Looks like you’ll have ten feet to starboard Jack". Tiny stood at the starboard prow of the barge, propping one foot on a large cleat for balance. The combo slid silently by the moored pile driver, it’s boom looming fifty feet in the air. "All’s clear ahead Jack," Tiny piped into his portable, then strolled back to the kerosene prow lantern hanging off a single bit ax handle at the center of the barge.

Suddenly from the port side of the barge Tiny heard what sounded like brush or trees screeching against the side. Grabbing the lantern he ran to the edge of the deck only to catch himself on a forward spar as the barge shuddered to a grinding halt.

"You O.K. up there Tiny"? Jack’s voice crackled over the portable.

Tiny held the lantern high enough to see that they had buried the port prow in what appeared to be a small landslide in the high north bank of the slough. Grappling for the radio that now dangled from its tether he keyed the mike, "Looks like we ran into a landslide in the north bank Jack. The prow’s buried about eight feet into her. Try heading full astern and let’s see if she’ll pull out."

"Copy Tiny….Full astern." Jack rang the control lever to full reverse and slowly revved both engines. The little tug eased backward for a moment, then bobbed about in the prop wash as the engines idled down. "How we lookin’ up there Tiny? Did that do it?

"She came away just fine Jack" came Tiny’s reply, "other than we took on about five yards of topsoil with one forlorn little pine tree on the port prow. I’d wager my paycheck that pile driver and the slide are connected. Probably shut down operations last night not knowing they’d jarred loose a bit of the north bank. Your clear up here. Five yards to starboard ought’a clear us Jack."

"Five yards of topsoil, five yards to starboard. Five knots ahead," Jack chided into his mike. "Lake Sammamish here we come."

As the Lolly Foss and its cargo passed under the lights of Bothell Landing Tiny observed the little tree on the pile of topsoil. It looked as if it was shoveled right up and transplanted onto the barge deck. ‘It looks quite contented sitting there’ Tiny mused in his mind, ‘it probably just wanted a ride to Lake Sammamish State Park.’

After they had moored and secured the barge at the park wharf, Jack and Tiny docked the Lolly in order to more closely inspect for any damage in the slough mishap. Sure enough a neat pile of dirt with a little pine tree perched on top of it lay right on the corner of the barge. No apparent damage to the barge structure was noticeable. All Jack said upon looking at the odd sight was "Looks like the little feller just wanted to hitch a ride to the park." With that, Tiny got a shovel off the Lolly and with Jack holding the prow lantern, they planted the little pine tree right there next to the wharf.

The End