Captain of Washington Queen Nagged Into Uncharted Waters

“It can’t be done, miss,” said the scruffy man in the funny cap. He turned his back as he spoke and pretended to fiddle with the boat’s engine, so as not to face his tormentor.

“But you promised,” insisted the fine-featured woman in the large flowing hat. “You promised to get us to a balanced budget by 1991.”

“Didn’t promise no such thing,” replied the man angrily, polishing the boat engine furiously as he spoke. He hated the way this woman kept reminding him of his own words, and he muttered continuously under his breath.

“You did, you did,” she persisted. “Tell me why you’re changing your mind now. We’ve already passed that first legislative hurdle you said was impossible. That didn’t stop us.”

The captain of the tiny Washington Queen turned to face his accuser. The color had risen to his cheeks. “Didn’t stop us? Why passing that old fort nearly got the Queen blown right out of the water. And that obstacle was nothing compared to what we would have to face next.”

He stroked the boat’s boiler lovingly and continued. “We have to go over a falls where every special interest group--from subsidized railroads to farmers to defense contractors--is going to try to punch holes in our sides. Then there’s a long stretch of river full of economic shoals and eddies--with maybe even a whirlpool or two--any one of which could put us at the bottom. And after that. . . . “

He sucked in his breath, pulled his cheeks back in a way that showed a set of irregular teeth, and scratched a cheek in a singularly characteristic manner. “After that, miss, there aren’t even any charts of what comes next. It’s all unknown waters. I don’t even know if a channel exists down there big enough for a boat this size to negotiate on its way toward a balanced budget.”

She stared at the captain, totally unmoved by his arguments. “I believe you’re afraid,” she said coldly. “Maybe I am, miss. Maybe I am.” His eyes were downcast and he was again unable to face her directly.

The confrontation went on for some time. In the end, however, the irresistible force of her resolve overcame his unmovable reluctance to sail downstream. Soon, the little Washington Queen was once more moving toward its promised destination, a grumbling skipper at its engine, an outwardly placid and parasoled crew at the rudder.

After one particularly harrowing adventure on their way, the lady at the tiller was heard to comment: “I never dreamed any mere economic experience could be so exciting.”