At a young age, I'm guessing between 3 and 5, Dad took Henry and I fishing at the East dock of Cranberry Lake. When the fishing lines got tangled, Henry and I were told to hold on to the ends of the lines as Dad untangled them. He would tell us to step back, step back, as he untangled it and I stepped back right off the end of the dock. Down into the water, hit bottom, eyes open then whole time, and back out grabbing the dock. He ran over and pulled me out before my clothes even got wet under my coat. And that was the end of that fishing trip!