Tuesday, September 18, 2012
For some compelling reason I've had a nagging, unsettling question a-lingering in the back of my mind that has been a-bugging me for a while now.
For you see, while most recently approaching the Seven Mile Bridge one late afternoon, a fellow in a fishing skiff happened to slowly motor on over astern of Blondie-Dog as she labored against a strong tidal current flowing out from underneath that bridge.
And with my hands fully occupied at that very moment hooking up the fuel tank and cranking up the outboard, I simply wasn't too keen to engage that fellow in conversation while approaching that bridge at a slow crawl. Because the last thing that I needed was have that swift current take a hold of Blondie and push her sideways into one of the many concrete bridge supports while I mindlessly be chattering a way.
So my first inclination was to want to tell that fellow, "Dude... I ain't got time for your sorry ass so save whatever it is that you've got to say, 'cause for one, I'm busy and two, I don't give a rat's ass about any unsolicited commentary that you might feel obligated to send my way.
'Cause the simple truth of the matter is that very seldom if ever does one have a power-boater motor on over while one is under sail unless they want to gripe about something or fling some gratuitous crappy commentary in one's direction.
Yet to my disarming surprise, that fellow with longish, curly sun-bleached locks along with a set of deep dimples in his cheeks and a genuine smile on his face to go along with a deep southern drawl, hadn't come to gripe about anything or even so much as utter an unsolicited suggestion my way.
Instead he had simply called out with words to the effect of, "Don't mind me, I'm just admiring your boat" followed by, "Is that an Intrepid 28?"... and later, "I kinda thought so, they're good boats"...
And after briefly exchanging a pleasantry or two, that easy-going fellow just as quickly waved goodbye, throttled up and pulled away leaving me struggling with the nagging thought that we had some how and some where previously met only that I couldn't exactly pinpoint the when and where.
But it was while sailing underneath the Seven Mile Bridge that it dawned on me that the fellow had to be none other than Gary. The very same gregarious Gary that I'd previously met while aboard S/V BratCat in Key West way back in '88.
Yep... it had to be the same Gary whose trawler was aptly named "Magician" who would entertain one and all with his endless assortment of magic tricks. And it had to be the very same fellow that I'd previously described in a prior blog posting.
Hey Gary? That was really you wasn't it?