Ralph drove me back to my poor ultralight while we were waiting for the trailer to arrive.  I was really feeling depressed and just wanted to sit down and cry but kept my composure.  There was a County Sheriff's car waiting on me when we arrived and I began to walk over to him.  Another gentleman was there talking to him.  They stopped their conversation and looked at me rather serious.  I thought I might go to jail since I wouldn't be able to pay for the damages to the watermelons.  The deputy said, "You the pilot of this thing?".   "Yes, sir.  It's mine", I replied with all the humility I could muster.  "I ain't never seen no airplane with an N-number like that, it is legal?", he asked looking straight in my eyes with all seriousness.  "Yes, sir, it's an EAA ultralight program registration number.  I'm not required to have an N-number registration."  I replied ready to pull my BFI exemption out.   "Is that two seats I see in that thing?" he asked further still looking directly in my eyes with all seriousness.  "Yes, sir, I have an FAA exemption for two seats for training.  I'm an ultralight flight instructor operating under the ultralight training program.", I said looking right back in his eyes but trying to look as respectful and humble as possible.  "I see.  I don't guess I have to call the FAA then do I?", he asked with a hint of relief.  "No, sir, I believe they will tell you they don't investigate ultralight incidents."   speaking in a very respectful voice.  Well, I think I should fill out a police report just in case.  How are you going to get this thing out of here?  You're going to have to speak to this man here about damages to the watermelons." he said pointing to the man standing beside him and looking like he just hit a jackpot.   "Yes, sir, I'll be glad to pay any damages and I have a flatbed on it's way to get it out of your way."  I said as I turned to the owner of the field.

He didn't say anything right away and scanned the length of my impromptu landing strip lined with broken watermelons.  I turned around to look too and started counting as best as I could with my eyes.  Before I could turn back around the farmer stated, "I reckon there's 500 busted melons out there by the time you get this thing outa here."  My heart sank as I quickly estimated $3.00 a melon.  I didn't bring $500.00 cash with me and I was already starting to feel handcuffs and imagine a view from behind bars.  "Yes, sir, I have some cash with me but..." I started to explain.  Before I could finish he stated again, "I reckon those melons would be worth $4 each...".  I was about to resign myself to a night in jail when he finished with, "...if any of 'em was any good."  I said, "I'm very sorry, sir, but I didn't bring...  What did you say?"  "I reckon you're lucky we done picked 'em and these done been sprayed with weed killer."   The farmer looked at the sheriff's deputy and they both laughed.  I laughed right along with them as we all carried my stuff out of the field to Ralph's car.   Soon the flatbed came and several helped lift the Flightstar out of the sand up onto the trailer.