First Reno jumped ship - and without her weight holding the structure tight onto the 55 gallon drum, the frame rose skyward out of the water and remained there, releasing one drum to drift silently away. That left 3 of us trying to balance on the remaining drums. Then Penny saw her chance to escape being trampled or drowned. She jumped as we circled again toward the bank where Reno was running and barking!
Weight shift repeated. Out came the next drum, leaving Dick and me stumbling over each other and our sapling poles, trying to remain upright on two remaining barrels while the deck began to separate and disintegrate beneath our feet.
Finally we both fell off laughing and splashing as the raft broke apart with no barrels to support the frame. We learned the meaning of "flotsam" as we watched our creation float away in pieces.
We were wet, muddy, and smelled like something between fishy stagnant water and the inside of an out-house. Our boat building took probably 7 hours; our voyage had lasted less than 15 minutes.
As we walked homeward, bluejeans sticking to our legs while drying in the setting sun, our dogs danced ahead, happy to be on firm ground. We began devising a story that we agreed would convince our parents what caused our miserable condition. It had to be believable, in order to assure we weren't sent to bed without supper.