Alright, this one takes some explaining.
I was paddling along in this nice alpine lake when I spotted a freshwater lobster. I thought he was cute, and got closer to take a picture when I spotted the mass of knotted fishing line he was entangled in, and stuck to a snag. He was hopeless. I knew he'd take a finger off if I tried to rescue him, so I took my trusty knife and duct-taped it to my paddle shaft, making a bayonet of sorts. I managed to get him close to free when I noticed the afternoon thunderheads rolling in. I managed to paddle back to the little rock island where all my camping gear was splayed just in time for an ill-wind to lift both my boat and my tent. I was able to body-check the boat to the ground (good choice, since I would need it to get off the island), but watched as my tent (with all my dry clothes and sleeping bag) went flying across the boulders and finally into the lake.
I don't think this is the treatment St. Francis would have received.