I was too busy fishing to notice the fast approaching rock garden. I was dead middle river when I should have been far left. Pin balled through in my new NC Prospector 15. Bogan was hugging the deck. I heard one crunch as the stern whipped against a mostly submerged boulder. The bow was bouncing back an forth, glancing off innumerable glaciated igneous debris. The result: Holes in both stems, time for skids. That’s ok, this is my rocky river boat. I intend to wear it out.