I love the smell of Starbucks in the morning... smells like coffee.
Bash Starbucks all you want but I happen to like the wide expansive tables, the cushy sofa chairs, the air-conditioning, the free Wi-Fi, the electrical outlets, the relaxing music and of course the coffee.
I never bother with the foo-foo coffees. I like my coffee hot, sweet, and black... just like I imagine to like my women. Ooopps, I didn't mean to say that. Nevertheless, its the usual tall, bold coffee for me with three packets of raw sugar. Yes, raw is indeed good.
Yesterday was spent shaking out my anchor rodes, chains, and spare sails. I've got enough line to tie off a couple of cruise ships and barges. I made it a point to crawl down beneath the lazarette in the cockpit and pull out a bunch of surplus miscellaneous outboard gasoline tubing and crap. I certainly don't want any of that gear getting intertwined with my anchor rode at the least opportune moment.
Memo to self: Purchase some canvas and mesh bags as well as some large milk crates for the anchor rode.
The previous owner wasn't kidding when he commented that he had blown out his 110 jib off the coast of North Carolina at some point. After hauling that jib off the boat and spreading it out onto the pavement, I found it to be beyond repair to say the least. It was torn in multiple places. Perhaps I can construct a wind-scoop out of some of the remaining canvas at some point.
Thinking about the previous owner brings to mind a personal experience of his while docked at a marina somewhere in the Chesapeake. He had gotten up around four in the morning to relieve his bladder and check his dock lines when he heard what he thought was a feint cry for help. He called out to his wife who was down below sleeping to ask if it was she who had said something. Once again he hears a feint cry for help off in the distance and he proceeds to call out, "who's asking for help?"
With yet another plea for help he sprints down a number of piers at the secluded and dark marina and finds a would-be fisherman clinging onto one of the pylons for dear life... now hypothermic and exhausted and too weak to pull himself up out of the water. He had evidently slipped off the dock while attempting to get an early start on his fishing.
Yes Brian, there is indeed someone out there that will forever feel indebted to you for saving his life.
Not that anybody gives a rat's ass, but dinner last night was a package of Ramen Chicken noodles mixed in along with a tin of Tuna in oil. It was surprisingly tasty and satisfying.