Oliver Crane envisioned a tranquil life when he relocated to Alderbrook Hollow, a small suburb outside of Portland. His garden sloped down into a serene lake, encircled by cattails and birch trees that rustled in the wind.
Every morning, he would go out to his little wooden pier, untie his twenty-one-foot skiff, and use a fishing rod and a cup of coffee to float over the mirror-like surface. The one aspect of his day that felt unaffected by the din of the outside world was his favorite habit.
Oliver remained silent. He didn’t go to homeowners’ meetings or participate in neighborhood barbecues. He liked being alone. When he opened his mailbox one Friday afternoon and discovered an envelope bearing the Alderbrook Estates HOA seal, that all changed.
The notice said, “Mr. Crane, your vessel is in violation of community regulations.” When not in use, boats must be kept out of sight. Penalties will follow noncompliance.
Oliver laughed at first. His boat was immaculate, well-maintained, and rarely unsightly. Before a woman showed up at his home three days later, he assumed it was a clerical error.
With a clipboard in her hand, she stated sharply, “Mr. Crane, I’m Margaret Fields, the HOA vice president. We’ve heard grievances regarding your vessel. It must be taken off the dock right away.
Oliver scowled. “Taken out? It is not obstructing anyone’s view as it sits on my dock.
Margaret’s voice became piercing. “Rules are rules. Ten days are allotted to you to comply. If not, removal will be arranged by the HOA.
Oliver gave her a courteous thank you, shut the door, and paused. He went to his study after that and took out a leather folder. The deed to his property was within. He read the articles again and grinned. He was recognized as the owner of Alderbrook Lake itself.
The developer had never given up ownership of the lake, but he had sold the nearby land years ago to build houses. Oliver had bought the lake when he bought his house. He owned the dock, the fishing rights, and the water.
The HOA didn’t know. Under the pretense that the lake belonged to the town, they had been collecting nominal fees from the local fishing club. Oliver made the decision not to send a letter. Instead, he would go to the next HOA meeting.
The clubhouse served as the venue for the meeting. The area was filled with folding chairs and the aroma of coffee permeated the space. Margaret sat next to the other board members at the front. After talking about mailbox colors and lawn heights, Margaret looked up to see Oliver sitting peacefully close to the rear.
“Mr. Crane, let’s talk about your infraction since you’re here,” she remarked. The boat needs to be taken off the dock. The rules of the community are unambiguous.
Oliver calmly stood and spoke. “I think there’s a miscommunication regarding the lake.”
Peter, another board member, cut him off before he could elaborate. “No misunderstanding exists. Since the lake is owned by Alderbrook Estates, the HOA has jurisdiction over it.
Oliver put a document on the table after opening his folder. This document gives me ownership of the lake. During the development of the neighborhood, it was not handed to the HOA. Along with my land, I bought it. This is verified by the county records.
There was silence in the room. Margaret’s self-assured face vanished. Her lips tightened as she hurriedly skimmed the document.
A voice raised from the crowd. “Does that imply that the HOA receives our fishing club dues for a property they do not own?”
Oliver gave a nod. That’s right. Although I granted open access out of kindness, I might need to reevaluate how the lake is utilized now that I’ve been instructed to move my own boat.
The muttering started right away. A few residents looked at each other uneasily. Others appeared to find it amusing. “We will need to verify this information,” Margaret remarked, clearing her throat.
Then Oliver said, “Please. I advise you to refrain from threatening to tow property from land or water that you do not own until that time.
Without saying another word, he departed the gathering.
After two weeks, the county confirmed to the HOA that Oliver Crane was the rightful owner of the lake. The board was forced to formally apologize and withdraw its notice. Refunds were demanded by the fishing club. Every time Margaret passed Oliver’s house, she ceased to look him in the eye.
Oliver was a guest speaker at the next community gathering. He declared, “As of right now, the HOA has no control over Alderbrook Lake.” I’ll keep permitting water consumption that is considerate. Families are free to kayak or fish. All I ask is that everyone keep it quiet and tidy. No gasoline engines, no garbage, and no noisy parties after nine o’clock in the evening.
A few neighbors gave a quiet cheer. Others gave a relieving nod. The lake felt different after that day. It returned to its peaceful state without the HOA’s intervention. The sea remained calm and clear, pensioners fished at dawn, children smiled while rowing small boats.
Oliver saw Margaret standing on the other side of the river one evening. After observing the lake’s reflection of the sunset, she turned to face him. She acknowledged with a slight nod for a while and then turned to leave.
Oliver grinned. He was aware that he could have punished the HOA by using his ownership, but that was never the intention.
Fairness was all he had desired. He understood that power was not about dominance. It was about recognizing what is rightfully yours and maintaining your integrity when others fail to do so.
The yacht stayed at his dock, motionless and silent, shining in the dusk like a silent triumph.