An Unsettling, Nagging Question in the Back of My Mind...

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.

http://svblondiedog.blogspot.com/2012/02/taking-stroll-down-memory-lane.html

Hey Gary? That was really you wasn't it?

Off da Boat and Happy to be Eatin' Sum Real Food fer a Change...

Yep... It do indeed make me most happy to finally be off da boat and eatin' me sum real food fer a change.

And I ain't lying whats-so-evers when I tells ya'll dat I do hopes to never agin have ta eats anymore crap out of a tin can dat mights have been a rollin' about inside my tote box fer months on end.

Dang right folks... Ya'll heards me right... I ain'ts ever a wanting to eats me another tin of Vienna Sausages, or Spam Ham, or Dinty Moore Stew, or even any more Hormel Chile wit Beans. And I's also ain't evers a wantin' to eat any more macarroni and cheese dat I'd routinely buy me at da Dollar Store.

Nope... from here on out I be scarfin' down sum mighty fine Prime Rib and corn-on-da-cob right off a hot grill courtesy of my Marco Island Lady-Friend. And I also don'ts care one bit whethers or not my lady-friend objects to any of my table manners 'cause I eats like I feels like it whether I be but a vagrant on a boat or not.

And one last thing feller sailors... I ain't evers gonna drink me any more warm beer either... dat is of course if I don'ts run outs of any cold ones inside da 'fridge.








Yeah man! I now be a mighty fine cook and be cooking me sum mighty fine Creole cuisine in a real kitchen wit decent pots and pans.

And dude, if ya do know how to read, den jest do what de recipe tell ya to do. Otherwise do like I do and watch Chef John explain how it be done on one of his many instructive videos.

http://foodwishes.blogspot.com/2012/02/creole-crab-corn-chowder-let-good.html



And nope, ya won't ever see me cookin' up this concoction evers agin'...



Yep... and also made me a fine upside down pineapple cake too jest 'cause I felts like it. I did neverthess use up a tin of Dole pineapple chunks rather than cuttin' up a real pineapple. But nobody better be a squealin' on me and a tellin' Chef John daggomit.

http://foodwishes.blogspot.com/2012/03/pineapple-upside-down-cake-now-and-then.html

Back On The Grid Again and Workin' Fer a Livin'...

It do indeed feel a mighty good to be back on the grid agin' and no longer livin' aboard my dern boat. And although Blondie be a mighty fine little sailboat, she still be but a boat when it all be said 'n done.

And to that I'll add dat it also feel a mighty good to be gainfully employed fer a change and earning me sum real mula once agin'.

For ya see, it do a person's esteem a mighty good to have a reason to git up in da morning and goes off somewheres to earn an honest days wages 'cause livin' aboard a boat jest ain'ts a worthwhile endeavor unless you be periodically sailing offs somewheres or ya at least haves a day job to avoids becoming but jest another vagrant-on-a-boat.

And don't any of ya'll feller sailers' evens' thinks fer even a single Puerto Rican-New Yorker minute bouts' lendin' yor ear to sum' idle barstool sailor a claiming dat he be "livin' da dream" while he be but perpetually at anchor in sum' isolated harbor among a bunch of overgrown mangroves.

'Cause dat be the same feller hidin' out and wit a sh*t streak of problems goin's all de ways back to Cuba and doin' his darndest to connive yet another unsuspectin' feller sailor out of his hard earned mula only's to den' git his'self in troubles wit da marina boss all overs agin'.

And ya certainly den' don't wanna unexpectedly find yorself a-slippin' and a-slidin' in dat feller's sh*t streak. So do yorself a favor and avoid gettin' involved in dat feller's marina squabbles at all cost cause if ya don'ts you den' run da risk of being guilty by association.

So yep, I do indeed now be most happy to be but another working stiff gittin' up early ev'ry mornin' and headin' off fer work but nots' befores I takes me a fine hot shower and shaves all of me whiskers off.

And I'lls also haves ya'll knows dat I also nows never forgits' to brush all my teeth wit toothpaste every mornin' jest in case ya might a been a wonderin'.

And of course it also feel a mighty good to put on a starched long-sleeve shirt along wit a fine nice pair of slacks and dress shoes to match. And nope, I ain't a missing wearing any of my ol' boater clothes one bit either 'cause all my cargo shorts either had a broke zipper or a hole in 'em sum'wheres or evens both.

Besides dat, I also gots tired of wearing nuttin' but Teva sandals every day along wit' da same 'ol black smelly t-shirts wit bleach stains on dem.

And lastly I be happy to tells ya'll dat I now be wearing sum' brandy-new boxer-brief undy-pants dat I boughts me de' other day at a Wal-Mart store and dat I also now done thrown away all my old undy-pants dat had multiple holes in dem.

And of course ya' should all knows wid'out me a havin' to tell ya'll dat all dem holes in me under-pants resulted from me periodically releasing a gas pressure buildup after feedin' my face a fully loaded jalapeno bean burrito.

Yep, dem bean burritos dat I'd often buy at da local Circle K while in Key West were good!

Laptop Etiquette While Sharing a Table...

Hey all ya'll feller sailors!!

I do knows dat ya'll might has perhaps thunck dat ya done heards de lasts of my random, irrelevant commentarys but ya'll is completelys wrongs 'bout dat I tells ya!!

For ya see... I gots me a bee of all things buzzin' around insides my bonnet and der be sumptin' dat be bugging me now fer awhiles dat I do needs to gits off my chest.

Dat be right feller sailors... I do be feelin' a compelling need ta enlightens ya'll 'bouts a mostest impo'tant topic and dat be proper laptop etiquet' whiles ya be sharing a table wit other feller sailors in yor local marina lounge area.

And of course ya should all knows by now dat I is purty smartz 'bout proper etiquet' no matter what de social setting mights be... fer instance, it do be quite okey-dokey ta pick yor nose outs in public so long as nobodys sees ya '... cause if nobody done see ya pick yer nose, den it simply didn't happen and it den don't counts and dat it den be quite okay to casually flick that annoying bugger away.

Now I'd be de first ta admit dat ya'll probably alreadys knew dis but I needed to tells ya anyways just in case ya mights have been laying awake at night in de v-berth and a wondering.

Anywho I do needs to enlighten one and all 'bout proper laptop etiquet' and so widout any further ado here goes my suggestions in no perticular order.

#1

First on dis here list of suggestions be dat ya show a tad bit of courtesy when taking a seat at an already occupied table. Don't just shows up and den dump yor oversized arse into dat chair widout so much as mumblin' a "'morning" or a "mind if I join yor table" or sumsuch whedders or nots ya really means it 'cause it just ain'ts good karma when der den be a bit of tension hovering arounds de table.

And listen up all you young and not so young ladies... ya need not gits yorself all uppity and into a snitch and somehows be anticipatin' dat the dude across da table is a gonna 'mediatly start hitting on ya as soon as ya take a seat at dat table.

Ya gotta understands dat sum of us fellers do has at least a smidgen of decorum and do knows better to at least waits a little whiles 'til ya gets all settled in wid yor laptop up and a running befores we den start a hittin' on ya.


#2

Next on my enlightening list of marina laptop table etiquet' is dat ya don't hog all de plugs in de 'lectrical outlet.

C'mon dude... and you as well ol' geezer...  we all do knows dat you were der first but dat don't entitle ya to hog all de plugs for we alls knows dat ya ain't paying fer dat 'lectric bill when it come due and dat ya should know better and graciously unplugs sumptin' before being acsked. So don'ts acts all put outs and such when ya do be acsked to share a plug.


#3

Number 3... Dude, don't clatter! You knows what I be talkin' 'bout... der simply ain't no need for ya to be making yorself an unwelcumed disruption. So quit banging all yor computer crap on dat table whiles ya be hooking it up to yor computer. Ain't nobody a wantin' to hear all dat noise you be a makin'.

And whiles we all knows dat de marina lounge ain'ts by no means a library, do kindly show a little courtesy to yor feller sailors while ya be gitten all yor sh*t squared aways.


#4

Etiquet' number four is purty impo'tant so be sure to pay up sum close attention sailor feller.

Yo lardass! You knows who you be! Der ain't nobody a wantin' to see yor big gut spilling out overs de top of yor shorts whiles ya be peckin' aways at de keyboard in dat der marina lounge.

Dude... you should knows better den dat... all dat blubber ya be showin' alongs wit dat gawd awful hairy back of yors be quites a repulsive sight if I mights say so meself!

And jest because you be a livin' on a boat don't by any means make it okay fer you to be showin' off dat fat gut of yors. So dude... keep yor dang shirt on and don'ts fergit to leaves yor nose alones.


#5

Suggestion number five be impo'tant too.

Dude... I knows dat you be a hungry boy and ain'ts eaten anything in a whiles and dat you be now salivating to scarf down dat crappy McDonald's take-out order dat sum 'udder feller sailor fetched fer ya, but do shows a little restraint and do goes feed yor face on elsewheres.

Ain't nobody at dat computer table a wantin' to see ya make a pig out of yorself whiles ya be checkin' out yor facebook page.

And another thing dude... don't fergit to dispose of dat crumbled up burger wrapper along wit de rest of yor mess. It be bad enuf havin' ta see ya stuffin' yor pie-hole whiles ya be at de computer table let alone havin's to look at de pile of trash dat ya be leavin' behind fer sumone else to pick up.

Jest remember feller sailor, nexts time ya forgits to clean up yor mess, sumone will be sure to flick a bugger at yor fat ass as ya be leaving. So consider yorself forewarned feller.


#6

Nope, I ain'ts quite finished wit me suggestions quites jest yet.

Dude... yeah you wit de know-it-all attitude along wit yor incessant, unsolicited commentaries. Ain't nobody give a rat's ass 'bout yor random, irrelevant suggestions nor 'bout dat latest electronic gadgetry dat ya found online and now be claiming to be ordering fer yor boat.

'Cause de truth of de matter is dat ya know dang well dat nobody know what ya be talkin' 'bout or evens cares abouts. All ya be doing is but engagin' in sum "score-boarding" and attemptin' ta make yer feller sailers look ignorants and unprepareds.

Ya ain't a fooling me loquacious dude... all dat cute gadgetry dat ya claim to got aboard yor boat still don't mean dat ya know how to sail.

So dude... don't start a makin' noises and a such whiles surfin' de web and den saying "hhmmm, that looks interesting" and den be doing yor best to distract others at dat table from what dey be doing 'cause like I says befores, ain't nobody cares whats ya got to say.


#7

I be almost finished wit my commentaries folks...

Yo girlfriend... do take dat phone call of yors aways from de table. Ain't nobody a wanting ta hear yor silly drama. C'mon girl, you knows better dan to be a runnin' yor mouth off whiles at dat table and a makin' yorself a distraction.

And another thing silly girfriend... ya do needs ta sit ups straight whiles at dat table 'cause it ain'ts polite posture and 'cause der ain't nobody der a caring to peek at yor profile dat ya gots posted on match dot com. Ya simply ain'ts dat dang impo'tant.

And whiles I be thinkin' 'bout it, always be sure to plug in dem earphones of yors fer dat what dey be for. Ain't nobody else at dat table a wantin' to hear dat rapper a hollerin' vulgar obsenities and such.


#8

Now I be finished wit my laptop table etiquet' commentarys...

Dude... do be considerate and don't assume dat it be okay fer yor feller sailors to babysit yor estupido computer whiles ya git up to go fer a forty minute smoke.

Take cares of yor own sh*t. Four or five minutes be fine but forty minutes fer a smoke break be another matter altogithers.


So dares ya has it feller sailors! My enlightenin' commentary on laptop etiquet' whiles ya be sharing a table at yor marina lounge! And it didn'ts costs ya a dime.

Incidentally my lady-friend suggested to me da other day dat I be nuttier than an out-house on a peanut farm... and I is still a trying to figures dat one out while she still be a laughin' and a gigglin'.

Setting Sail and Bidding Goodbye to Key West...

Setting sail and bidding adios to Key West wasn't hard to do in the least and with tax season having concluded and with me no longer earning a paycheck, and with a favorable weather window on hand, it was an easy decision to hoist sails and haul my ass on out of there.

Yep, I'd grown tired of the frivolity of the Key West lifestyle and of its high cost of living and of everything even remotely associated with tourist.

Not that there is is anything wrong with tourist per se, for tourist are but ordinary folks chasing a good time before having to head on back to their respective homes and to the daily grind of commuting to and from work.

Yet the real fact of the matter is that I'd grown weary of the so-called cruising lifestyle and of all its inconveniences. And it's not like I'd sailed the Seven Seas either or even so much as done any occasional sailing.

So it was easy for me to conclude that it was high time that I cease being but a vagrant on a boat and simply get on with the rest of my life.

Admittedly, I simply never got around to embracing the so-called cruising lifestyle this time around as apart from when I previously sailed along with my then wife aboard S/V BratCat back in '88 and '89.

The daily exhilaration of cruising just wasn't there for me this time around which leads me to believe that companionship of all things might perhaps be the key to joy no matter what one might be endeavoring to do whether it be taking the dog for a walk or grilling burgers together out in the back yard.




In any event, Day One (May 8th) got off to an inauspicious start. I was kinda, sorta late in pulling away from the mooring ball in Garrison Bight and of later motor sailing on out the Key West Channel against the oncoming tidal current.

Yep I know. I briefly went on over to the "dark side" and cranked up the motor as apart from attempting to sail on out through the channel.

I'd simply forgotten just how strong the currents can be in that channel and it seemed like forever to finally get on past the cruise ships on the south end of the channel and then on out to open waters were I could later hoist Blondie's sails in earnest.

I suppose that I should have done a little research before departing and made sure that I'd be departing with an outgoing current. But ya'll should know me by now... I couldn't be bothered.

Besides the NBA playoffs had started... that and the fact that there was plenty of cold beer to be imbibed at a nearby local pub might have had something to do with it.

So yeah, I'll be the first to admit that for better or worse my attention was elsewhere and not on the Key West Channels' incoming and outgoing currents.

And so with light south-easterly winds I proceeded to set sail for Bahia Honda. Unfortunately for me however it was slow sailing. There was simply no way that I'd make Bahia Honda some thirty-five miles away before night fall.

So with noon approaching, I happened to sight some sailboats at anchor off in the distance near Stock Island and elected to drop an anchor as well. I'd set sail in earnest the following morning at daybreak.

However to Blondie's misfortune, low tide had started to set in and Blondie's keel was soon resting on the bottom. Fortunately a passing boater was gracious enough to pull my boat out into deeper water.

(memo to self: check the tides before anchoring and don't assume that that larger sailing vessel you see at anchor out there draws more than you do.)



Ooops... a super new moon... combined with low tide ain't a good thing.





At anchor, Day 1.

Well needless to say, it felt good to get on out of the hot sun. In any event those light southeasterly winds simply weren't pushing me along fast enough and in hindsight it was a good decision to drop an anchor and sail another day.

At the very least I had finally committed to getting underway and had now departed Key West in earnest.

Day two, daybreak.

With a pot of coffee already brewed, I pulled up anchor and hoisted sails just as the sun started to peek over the horizon. Winds were still relatively light but were forecasted to shift on out of the south for an easy sail on to Bahia Honda.

Well it was indeed an easy sail. Too easy as a matter of fact. A little more wind would have been most welcomed but Blondie did eventually sail on into Bahia Honda sometime in the late afternoon.

And with a swift oncoming current flowing out from that anchorage, I had to once again go on over to the "dark side" and crank up the outboard motor for a little assistance.

Once inside that anchorage I was only too happy to drop the sails and anchor and later row my inflatable ashore to use the Park's outdoor rinse for a nice cool shower. Fortunately there weren't any fat German tourist lurking around in their speedos unlike the previous time I'd made a stop there.

Afterwards I treated myself to not just one but two lemon ice teas out of the vending machine before rowing my inflatable back on out to the boat for the evening. And I don't recall Arizona lemon ice tea ever tasting so good if the truth be told.

The following morning was more of the same. I rowed ashore, loitered about the Park premises, and did my best to stay out of the bright sunlight. Once again there didn't seem to be much wind blowing so I was somewhat content to stay put until it did pick up.

Well it wasn't until eleven in the morning or so that the coconut tree palms finally started swaying whereupon I hurriedly rowed back out to the boat, hoisted sails, pulled up anchor and got underway.

Before long Blondie was scooting on out of Bahia Honda and on towards Moser Channel and out under the Seven Mile Bridge.

What can I say other than, "If It Don't Blow, I Don't Go"...

It was a sail that took longer than anticipated but once safely on the intercoastal side and in relatively shallow waters, I again dropped the sails and set an anchor for the evening.

I'd worry about sailing on to Marathon in the morning when I wasn't quite so exhausted and overheated.



Poking along on towards the Seven Mile Bridge, Day 3.



At anchor, intercoastal side of the Seven Mile Bridge, Day 3.



Early morning, Day 4.



A quick early morning sail to Keys Fisheries in Marathon. Day 4. No need to hoist the main that morning. Within an hour or two I was once again at anchor.



Me eagerly awaiting for 1 pm to roll around and for the Keys Drinkeries Tiki Hut to open up for business so that I could then indulge in a few cold Heinekens that just happened to have my name written on them. Hey... we's all gots our own priorities ya know.

Later that evening I trekked a little ways to Daffy Doug's Discount Store and purchased a few provisions for the rest of my sail on up to Cape Sable and later on to Marco Island.

This time I was sure to scrutinize my receipt and ensure that I wasn't overcharged like the previous time I had been in there. Yeah, you can say that I'm still hacked-off over being overcharged the last time I was in there.

http://svblondiedog.blogspot.com/2011/03/bad-karma-aboard-sv-blondie-dog.html

Early morning, Day 5.

Day five was pretty much a non-event insofar sailing was concerned. I had intended to set sail for Cape Sable that morning but it was pretty much a no-go from the get-go.

Light winds made for slow progress and I eventually got tired of baking in the sun and dropped a hook a few miles north off of Fat Deer Key.

NOA Weather Radio was forecasting 10-15 mile an hour winds out of the east for the next coming days so there was no sense in attempting to slog it out. I'd wait for the winds to pick up for my twenty mile sail on up to Cape Sable.



Early morning, Day 6.

Winds did indeed pick up as forecasted and with the dinghy now deflated and securely stored aboard the boat, I reefed the main and set off for Cape Sable at a good clip. Blondie was finally gliding swiftly across the water.

It was indeed an easy sail on past Cape Sable and before long Blondie was leaving Middle Cape and Northwest Cape in her wake.

That's when a previously forecasted weather system or whatever weather folks call inclement weather, overtook Blondie and a few other nearby sailing vessels.

Fortunately Blondie's mainsail was already reefed when overtaken by that squall. Not long thereafter I was dropping an anchor off of the entrance to Little Shark River and calling it a day.

It didn't make any sense to me to follow two other sailing vessels I'd seen earlier on into the mouth of that river so I didn't.

Hey, what can I say other than I ain't no dummy... I know damned well that there are blood-thirsty mosquitoes in that alligator infested mangrove just waiting for some unsuspecting sailor to come upon them.

And you can also forget about me wanting to take a quick dip into the water to cool off in some forsaken place called Little Shark River for if there are little sharks lurking about, then surely their parents can't be too far off along.

I did nevertheless turn on my handheld radio and then proceed to eavesdrop in on a conversation among the two skippers at anchor. One skipper commented to the other that his anemometer, whatever that might be, had recorded a reading of 39 miles an hour at one point.

That must have been while his boat was motoring on in towards Little Shark River and when his boat suddenly appeared to be all greyed-out by the storm and was now going backwards of all things while Blondie continued to swiftly sail on forwards.




Approaching inclement weather. Somewhere off of Middle Cape.



Early morning, Day 7.

Day Seven was pretty much a non-event. I pulled up anchor first thing in the morning only to then observe the other two sailing vessels do likewise. Those two "powerboats" then proceeded to swiftly motor on past me and before long were soon out of sight.

Oh well... Blondie happens to be a sailboat and she ain't got an inboard engine to push her along and dat be dat.

And with Blondie casually sailing along, Ponce de Leon Bay was soon but an afterthought along with Highland Point, Lost Man's River, Indian Key Pass and the rest of the Ten Thousand Islands.





Me enjoying a little shade courtesy of my portable bimini while sailing in light winds. Dang... I can only hope that no one saw me... Somewhere in the middle of nowhere.




Late afternoon, Day 8.

Marco Island at last.

And not unlike your typical Betty Ford Clinic patient, I am what one would call, "Back Again"...



Me measuring the depth of the water with my sophisticated depth sounder. Marco Island.




Easy sailing with five toes on the tiller while en route to Sand Key some five or so miles offshore from Key West. S/V BratCat, 1989.





Last day aboard S/V Blondie-Dog as a liveaboard. From here on out I be but a day sailor!

Taking a Stroll Down Memory Lane...

Boat Dock, Turtle Kraawls, Key West Historic Waterfront. November 1989.

There just ain't a whole lot to do here in Key West once evening rolls around other than to plant one's rear end on a bar stool and wish one were elsewhere. And it is indeed a scene that can get rather tiresome after a while. At least from my perspective anyways...

In any event I surprised myself the other evening when I purposely made it a point to avoid the usual bar scene and do something entirely different for a change of pace and that was but to take a slow, casual stroll along the Key West Historic Waterfront while sipping on an Arizona Lemon Ice Tea of all things.

Yep, imagine that... me foregoing the usual Sports Bar scene and of mindlessly gazing up at a flat screen displaying yet another inconsequential sporting event. Which begs the question, can't we watch sumptin' else fer' a change?... like perhaps the Travel Channel, or the Food Channel, or even Animal Planet? It ain't likes we gotta hear the program for it to be of interest.

But I digress... for it wasn't long before I found myself ever so slowly strolling on past the Schooner Wharf Bar along with its usual boisterous festivities before mindlessly ambling off in the direction of the Turtle Kraawls Restaurant and Bar.

And after casually inspecting the dinghy dock along with its usual cluster-fu*k of dinghies located in front of that dockside restaurant, I tentatively strolled the same pier where my ex-wife and I had once previously tied our boat off to for a number of months back in '88 and '89.

But it was while idly gazing at the many luxurious motor vessels now tied up to that pier, that I began to recall the many unique characters and personalities that I'd previously met. For you see, it was while previously cruising aboard S/V BratCat, a Morgan 35' sloop, that we had once tied off to that very same pier before later anchoring offshore of Christmas Tree Island.

Among the more memorable characters was a gregarious fellow by the name of Gary who spoke with a thick Southern accent and who also happened to hail from the state of North Carolina.

Well Gary was a "hoot", to use the same word that he'd often use when describing something he thought was rather amusing. And who can forget his bag of magic tricks and the "wiffle dust" he'd sprinkle on his many magic tricks in order for them to work?

And of course Gary was always quick to explain that "wiffle dust" was simply all that remained of long since deceased magicians... Yep, Gary was indeed quite a "hoot" and his trawler was aptly named "Magician".

Now John and TT, a married couple and well up in their years happened to reside aboard an adjacent wooden boat that had long since seen better days. Well TT simply doted on John and also happened to worship everything about her husband. It was always "John this"... and "John that"... until one's eyes would glaze all over.

And John would always without exception speak in a low monotone and was always certain to bore the hell out of you if he should happen to corner you somewhere along the dock.

Invariably he would then proceed to recount his experience yet once again for the umpteenth time of the morning when Pearl Harbor was attacked and of when a fellow sailor died in his arms after taking a round to the chest from an attacking Japanese Zero.

Needless to say, once John started narrating that experience, one couldn't help but feel compelled to respectfully listen while idly standing at attention for what seemed like hours on end.

By the way, TT also happened to be the dock master but "TT" wasn't her real name. And I seriously doubt whether she knew that all the barstool sailors hanging out at Turtle Kraawls referred to her in that way. For you see, I can't quite exactly remember her real name but I do happen to recall that TT derisively stood for "torpedo tits".

Yep, dem things always looked armed and dangerous and ready to be launched at a moments notice whenever she'd turn towards one while in conversation.





Tweeter... our live-aboard cat and a most reluctant cruiser. This cat disliked sailing and was always quick to jump off onto the dock only to then sprint and scamper onto another boat and then hide at the first hint of any sailing preparations.

Nevertheless Tweeter was always the first to greet us at the docks upon our return after a day of sailing... MEoOWW!




This entertainer is a hoot and I never seem to tire of his island songs and usual routine of disparaging jokes and commentary. Everybody is fair game... including the "Fat Bartender" he sings about in one of his original songs.

By the way, his poochie-dog up on stage does have a name and her name be Cinderella.. not that there be anything particularly charming about that mutt.

And not that it might be relevant one way or another but Cinderella use to have free rein of the opened-aired bar. That was up until she got a tad too belligerent towards other visiting pooches in the outdoor seating area. Cinderella now remains tethered to a leash whenever up on stage.



Souvenir shops along the waterfront and they all seem to look exactly the same as they did back in '88 and '89.




Lock and load baby! I is gonna blow me up some of dem tourist on jet skis zipping on through the Garrison Bight Mooring Field with the throttle wide open and I is also gonna blow dem all up jest fer grins!





For some odd reason I always seem to cherish taking a few moments to gaze and silently marvel at the Western Union. I seem to recall reading the plaque claiming that she could hold 80 tons of cargo and 20 miles of cable which would later be laid out across the Atlantic.









Sunset, Mallory Square, Key West

Doing a Little Sailing For A Change... Key West

Well whada-ya-know... I finally found it in me to pull away from my mooring ball if only for a couple of hours the other day for some actual sailing. And of course it helps to have some company along to share in the experience. Otherwise I simply wouldn't have bothered.

Winds were relatively light and out of the south for a change and with it being a bright sunny day and with there being plenty of cold beer aboard the boat, my lady-friend and I raised sails and aimlessly putted around for a couple of hours.

If anything it was reassuring to know that the boat still worked as intended and that I hadn't forgotten how to sail after sailing into Key West some three or so months ago.

Perhaps I might even find it in me one of these mornings to get off my duff and clean off the grime that can now be seen thriving along Blondie-Dog's waterline.

Sailing the Spanish Virgin Islands, No Motor, No Problem....

Fajardo, Puerto Rico (cir. 1993)

Sailing my AMF 21' back to the marina after yet another blissful day of sailing and with a view of Condominios Dos Marinas in sight...

Once in the cove, I'd turn the boat back into the prevailing offshore winds, bring down the jib, secure it with bungee cords and then bring the mainsail halfway down the mast.

I'd then rest the end of the boom on a cockpit seat cushion and while standing, I'd grab the sheet with one hand and pull on it just tight enough to catch the wind.

And with the boat having just enough forward momentum and steerage, I'd turn the tiller hard on over and gently glide the boat into the slip.

Once inside the slip I'd make a mad dash fore to drop the mainsail the rest of the way down and grab on to my dock lines to avoid crashing into the pier and any neighboring boats.

No motor, no problem...

And I've said it before and I'll say it again... the so-called Cruising Lifestyle may indeed be a tad overrated.

Day-sailing on the other hand can most certainly be a much more enjoyable experience for after you've had your fill of sailing for the day, you can later go home. Yep, dat be my perspective...

Well heck, what's not to like about sailing on a clear, bright beautiful day? And now that I think about it, sailing the east coast of Puerto Rico was indeed a memorable experience that I will always cherish.



Marina Puerto Chico, Fajardo Puerto Rico




Hotel El Conquistador, Fajardo Puerto Rico




View of Isla Palominos off in the distance.




Marina Puerto Chico, Fajardo Puerto Rico





Isla Vieques on the distant horizon...




Marina Puerto Del Rey, Bahia Demajagua, Puerto Rico




One of a number of small keys commonly referred to as "Las Islas Cucarachas", by local fishermen presumably for their resemblance to said critters when seen from a distance.



Me sipping on a glass of apple-pine juice and not a Rum & Coke as some wags would suggest... and that's my story and I'm sticking to it. **hick-up**







Bahia de los Pescadores, Las Croabas Puerto Rico