Two men who have absolutely no business buying a boat, do. They have no real experience of boats, no real knowledge of boats; but they are inquisitive, ambitious, and have brought their real estate investment business to maturity. They are looking for a new project. They are bored. They buy an old, vintage, wood Chris-Craft cruiser named The King and I very nearly sinking in its slip at Lake Texoma, Texas.
"Something has got to be done!" they agree. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
But their ignorance of boat buying and incomprehension of the project's scope become the sources of great joy and frustration. They endure two years of grueling work and recover, not only a seaworthy craft, but a thing a true beauty.
"Now what?" Alexander asks.
Their properties liquidated and the money in the bank, the two decide to haul the forty-five foot cruiser to Oklahoma, the nearest put-in point on navigable water, the Arkansas River. Their plan is to cruise down the Arkansas, up the Mississippi, and up to Ohio; maybe settle in Cincinnati. But re-rigging the boat in the remotest part of southeastern Oklahoma takes more time than they thought; the Mississippi isn't necessarily a river savvy boaters push up; and well, life, with its responsibilities and obligations, is always poking its nose in.
In short, the leisurely jaunt over a summer strings out over fifteen months. It is a time when the two sailors meet formidable challenges head-on in an area of the country where gay men and antique motor yachts are not commonplace. If Tom and Huck were homosexual and middle-aged, they would be the subjects of River Queens: An American Journey.