Some Records Are Not Meant to Be Broken

Waterskiing Memories on Diamond Lake
By Sue Heinrich


Although it feels like I have always lived on Diamond Lake, I didn’t come here until I was fifteen. I was born in Worthington, Ohio, a suburb of Columbus, and we moved to South Bend in August of 1960 when I was thirteen because my father bought his own business. Since before I was born, my family had always gone to the same place for our summer vacations – Oxbow Lake, a small lake between Scottville and Ludington, Michigan. We tried to continue the tradition the year after we moved here, but my father could only come on the weekends because he didn’t want to leave his business for two whole weeks and it just wasn’t the same without him.
The following year my father suggested that we rent a cottage for the whole summer on a lake in the area. We kids, of course, jumped at the opportunity – a whole summer instead of two weeks and ski boat instead of a row boat! It was a no brainer. That spring we toured the lakes in the area – Eagle, Diamond, and Magician as well as some of the smaller lakes – and settled on Diamond because it was larger and closer to my dad’s office. The stars must have been aligned because we found an ad right away for a rental cottage on Park Shore. It was a duplex and we could have one side for the whole summer. It wasn’t right on the water, but Bebe, the owner, lived in the house in front which was right on the water and she allowed us to walk around her house to use either of the two piers any time we wanted.
It was a fantastic summer! My older brother, Jim, had just graduated from high school, my younger sister, Lina, had just finished sixth grade, and I had just finished ninth grade. My other brother Bob was in the Air Force. We all learned to drive the boat and water ski, first on two skis and then on one. We skied almost every day and pushed the limits of daylight. We tried all kinds of skis including shoe skis and disks. We skied alone or two or three at a time, crossing over and under and putting on a show. Jim was an athlete and made friends with another guy on the lake who skied competitively. Over the next few summers, he also tried the slalom course, the ski jump, and trick skis. That fall, Jim went off to Purdue but that fall, when he came home to help take out the pier, we even skied in October with sweatshirts on to keep warm, taking of from the pier so as not to get wet. Water skiing became our obsession.
I have lots of water skiing stories from those early years at the lake but this is my favorite.
The following summer was a repeat of the first one. We played in the sun and water and skied as much as possible. Jim had some crazy roommates at Purdue and invited them up to the lake for a long weekend. I had a terrible crush on his roommate Dale and was delighted as a high school girl to have these college studs around. These guys were all outgoing and fun loving and went crazy with the boat and skis. I’m not sure how it happened, but I think it must have been at the gas pump at Park Shore Marina. They met a guy from the Island, Jim Bryant, who had a big Century Coronado with a powerful automobile engine and a sliding cabin cover. Those old “woodies” were seductive! In the course of their conversation, they wondered how many skiers that boat could tow. No one knew but the gauntlet was thrown. We would meet at our place on Park Shore the next day with skiers, skis, tow ropes, life jackets, and anything else we needed.
The next day we scoured the neighborhood for people and equipment. By the appointed hour when Jim Bryant arrived in his Century, we had eight people rounded up along with the necessary skis and other equipment. We determined we also needed a couple of pick-up boats in case someone fell. After we hooked up the tow ropes and got everyone in the water, we were ready for take-off. The driver hit the gas and we were off. We had to work a little to get out of the water, but we all got up. Unfortunately, the weather gods were against us. The wind was up and the lake was very rough with white caps rolling. Needless to say, nearly everyone fell before we got around the island. Sadly, our first attempt at Cypress Gardens on Diamond Lake was a failure. However, we vowed to try again the next time the boys from Purdue came to the lake.
Fast forward to a month or so later – the next time the crazy Purdue roommates returned. They were still pouting from the failure of the 8 person ski team and were anxious to try again. Jim Bryant was contacted and the rendezvous was scheduled. This time we rounded up eleven potential skiers, some slalom skis and some matched and some mismatched pairs of skis, eleven ski ropes in a variety of lengths, and an assortment of life jackets and ski belts. This time we knew from experience that we needed some strong bodies in the boat to rapidly retrieve the ropes in case someone fell in order to prevent injury to the remaining skiers. We roped in a couple of football types for the job. My parents were recruited to drive a pick-up boat along with another neighbor. With eleven skiers, we felt the need for a strategy. The two strongest skiers would be on the outside and would each be on one ski. The two smallest, my sister and I, would be in the center. I was dead center with a rope about six feet longer than everyone else’s. I wasn’t sure why at the time, but I was sure glad a few minutes later.
At last we were ready to go. Everyone got in the water with their skis, took up their assigned positions, and fanned out so we all had enough space. Someone yelled “hit it” and we were off – not exactly. Eleven skiers, a couple of them on slalom skis, pushed the limits of the impressive Century’s towing power. We were all pumping to get up and stay up but it was just not to be. It was time for Plan B. We needed all the skiers to go up on two skis to reduce the drag on the boat. It was back to shore to scrounge up a couple more skis.
After knocking on doors up and down the street, we finally found the necessary skis and got back in the water. The two strongest skiers would pop out of the water on two skis and then on cue would drop a ski at the same time so as not to pull the boat off balance. When everyone was in position, we were ready for take two. Everyone fanned out, skis on, and ready to go. This time when the boat took off, I learned why I had the longest rope. The laws of physics took over and in spite of our best effort at fanning out, the forward motion of the boat pushed all the skiers to the center. Six feet behind, I was skiing in the ruts of the skis of the people on either side of me. With a little bit of work, and my death grip on the tow rope handle, we all got up on our skis. The slalomers successfully dropped a ski and everyone pulled into position giving us each our own space to maneuver. The drop boat pulled out behind us and we were really doing it! This time the weather gods were on our side and the lake was calm. We headed out towards the Island, going counter clockwise. We crossed the ferry heading east, cleared the Island turning north then west, passing Diamond Harbor, and headed southwest and back to Park Shore. Other boats out on the lake stopped to let us pass, then followed behind the pick-up boats, applauding all the way. Incredibly, this time not one person fell and we all made it all the way back to the start. In a word, we were euphoric! We couldn’t believe it. It was all we could talk about for years afterwards. Of course it took hours to untangle the ropes and return all the skis and equipment to their rightful owners. I’m sure we celebrated with a few alcoholic beverages (even though we were underage) and a lot of lively discussion for the rest of the day. The only disappointment was that no one took any photographs so we had no proof for our bragging rights.
Several years later, a group of skiers from the Spring Beach decided to try to break the record. By now my family lived on Spring Beach and my sister, now married and seven months pregnant, was asked to participate. They were able to round up thirteen skiers plus the necessary skis and equipment and set out. However, although they got everyone up, almost everyone had fallen before they even made it to the Island. They surrendered, agreeing that they had not succeeded in breaking our record so our record of pulling eleven skiers around the Island stood. Now, over forty-five years later, no more attempts have been made and, given that water skiing is passé, having been replaced first by knee boarding and now wake-boarding and wake-surfing, it’s doubtful that any will be.
Forty-five years have clouded my memory a bit. I am still close to Dale and he helped with some of his memories. Lina remembered some other details. Unfortunately, my brother Jim passed away ten years ago so I can’t pick his brain. None of us remembers who the other skiers were. We’re not sure of the exact dates. But we do remember the excitement and euphoria of success, and, of course, the bragging rights!