Factories and Ospreys

(This was written yesterday, 5/19)

Today we motored to a lovely anchorage on an oxbow bend off the ICW at Enterprise Landing, 27 miles north of Georgetown, SC, where we left this morning.  Upon arriving at the marina as soon as it opened, we filled up with diesel, water, and pumped out ye ol’ holding tank then immediately passed under a 65-foot bridge as early as we could.  Even though it was only 2.5 hours after low tide, our one-foot antenna on top of the mast just grazed the first girder of the bridge.  YIKES!   That was way too close!

Will we make it?

Looking up the mast whilst under a 65-foot bridge

In the next 20 miles, we must pass under SIX of these 65-footers as well as two swingbbridges.  I spent time last evening and again this afternoon calculating low tides and when to best approach these bridges.  Even if we leave at the optimal time, 6:30am, it’s doubtful that we’ll be able to pass under all six and may have to anchor for several hours to wait for low tide again or else go to a marina for the night and continue the next day.  This is one of the several aspects of boating, especially with a tall mast, that is not relaxing.  (1/20 - Editor's Note - We did make it under all six bridges plus the two swing bridges!)

Linda calculating tides, times, and bridge distances

What is relaxing however, is this gorgeous anchorage.  After dropping the hook, we sat in the shade of the cockpit and watched an osprey chase around a buzzard that was clearly not welcome in this osprey’s territory.  Aerial acrobatics.  Beautiful.  The buzzard got the message.  Also we heard the hammering of a not-too-distant woodpecker.  The occasional speed boat goes by in the ICW, but that’s OK, too.  Even saw someone go by on waterskis and four kayakers, too.  And the weather is perfect with a gentle cooling breeze.  Dave is napping and I may, too.

 

Georgetown

We spent the past two nights and one full day in Georgetown.  When we arrived at the anchorage, it was crowded with boats and quite shallow.  We bottomed out on our first spot and as we tried another, we heard a loud whistle.  There on the riverfront walkway were our friends, Nancy and Roddy.  They shouted that around the corner were more room and more depth.  Hooray!  We’d come 47 miles in 8.5 hours so were ready to call it a day.  They dinghied out to us and called, “After you get settled, we’ll pick you up and take you in to town for ice cream.”  Double Hooray!

Nancy and Roddy driving their dinghy back to Delusions, their trawler.

They’d gotten there the night before so had spent the day getting to know the town and visiting the museums so gave us the Georgetown lowdown.  We strolled with our ice cream through the quaint town.  Many iron front buildings.  We saw the old market place where slaves were sold.  It still is unsettling to me to walk the ground where humans were traded like animals and treated worse than animals.  But this is our history. 

The next day the four of us went to the County Museum which had an excellent local collection.  Indigo and rice were important crops early on, and by the 1840s Georgetown produced half of the rice consumed in the US.  Afterwards we ate lunch at The River House.  I had Cajun catfish, red beans and rice, and grilled veggies.  Dave had a fried flounder sandwich.  All was tasty.  Filled to the brim, we walked the ten blocks to the Piggly Wiggly and stocked up on provisions.  And that’s how the day went. 

(I'm sure there is a way to rotate this...)

The only downside is that we were anchored in front of a smoking steel factory and a pulp mill.  The first night, I was awoken at 4:00am from the tooting of horns – probably signals to the drivers at the factory.  Of course, I had to get up three times just to make sure that a barge wasn’t barging up the channel about to smash us to bits.  The next night, the wind shifted so that odor reminiscent of stinky bathroom air freshener that they use to cover up the stench of the toxins billowed right toward our boat.  We really enjoyed the town, but tonight’s anchorage is a welcome change.

Lucy Point Creek, SC

Here we are on Wayward Wind on the Coosaw River, north of Beaufort, SC. Our new friend, Mike Harris - boat mechanic extraordinaire and "Floating Poet" - took this photo of us. You're supposed to notice that the boathouse in the background was featured in Forest Gump.  The docks behind our boat were also in the film when Forest runs his boat into the dock and greets Major Dan. 

About Mike, what a godsend!  What a character!  At the anchorage at Bull Creek, our windlass (the motor that pulls up the anchor) stopped working!  Dave ratcheted by hand the anchor on 100 feet of chain.  Dave had been pretty perky about the frustrations of dealing with the mechanics of the boat, unlike me who gets really frustrated.  But this one even got to Dave.  Feeling kind of low, we pulled into Beaufort and got in touch with a mechanic who said he could come the next day and suggested we dock at the city courtesy day dock in the morning.  

Mike Harris showed up bright and early and started right in with testing the switches, finding the relay, and cleaning all of the battery terminals.  While doing so, this spunky, happy guy said in his southern accent, "I'm the floating poet.  You can find me on YouTube under 'floatingpoet.'  I like to write po-ems and I like to make people laugh.  Can I tell you a poem?"  He then told a funny poem, which did make us laugh.  This is not the poem he told, but it will give you a flavor, if you dare... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiihBqXOWFg    Then he went to work on the windlass in earnest and with pounding, and that's what did it.  Some of the bearings were stuck, and he unstuck them and got it to work.  So between the po-ems and the working windlass, we were happy. 



We enjoyed the town of Beaufort, SC.  We anchored out for three nights and walked around looking at the revitalized downtown area and antebellum homes along the river.  Beaufort was one of the first southern towns to fall to the Union Army during the Civil War.  The residents fled and the Union leaders set-up headquarters and other operations in the mansions; therefore, they were not burned to the ground during Sherman's March to the Sea.  It's difficult to view the opulence of these homes without thinking of the slaves upon whose backs the South rose to wealth.  Actually this is stated on the historical plaques in the city river park area. 

The day before Mike fixed the windlass, a neighbor at the anchorage was riding by in his dinghy.  We waved hello, so he came by the boat.  Turns out Roddy and his wife, Nancy, are from Quincy, Calif.  (Sierra foothills).  He's a retired psychologist who didn't know a thing about boats when they bought their motor vessel, Delusions.  It's as if Dave had paid him to say, "The first year and a half, a day didn't go by without something breaking.  It drove me crazy, but it got better after that."  I said that I could completely relate.  The next thing we knew, he was on the boat, getting on his hands and knees to help us figure out the windlass problem.  That's how people are on boats.  They bend over backwards to help you out.  It's really something.  We decided to get together that night with Roddy and Nancy for dinner in town to have some southern cooking.  Turned out to be a bit upscale so not exactly "down home cookin" but very good.  I tried the soft-shelled crab, a first for me.  The soft shell gives the crab a crunch.  Even though I prefer crab meat as we have it on the West Coast, I'm glad I tried it.  The chicken and sausage gumbo was tangy and hearty.  

Yesterday we left Beaufort, but in less than a mile, the engine began to overheate.  We anchored and tried to figure out what to do.  So discouraging.  We found that if we ran the engine very slowly, it did not get too hot.  Mike had invited us to visit him at his dock about eleven miles up the river, so we called him to see if he could help us out if we got up to his place.  He said that he was taking his son fishing but to come on by and he could help us later in the afternoon.  With permission, we docked in front of a dock house across from Mike's that belongs to a Dr. Bell, a "feller with lots of money" who doesn't use the dock much.  Mike drove his golf cart across the bridge to the dock.  He figured out the problem right away.  The sea water intake was clogged, probably with grass, so he showed us how to clear it out.  He also spent time showing us some other maintenance that we should do.   

Afterwards, we walked over the bridge to the boathouse where Mike works for another man, Stan, who runs a little tourboat operation.  They told us that Lucy Point Creek is the best place in the world.  Nothing bad ever happens, and it hardly ever gets up to 100 degrees, and they haven't had a hurricane in years, and the last one was in the 70's and that didn't amount to much, and the one before that was in 1959 and that was all wind and no water and the one before that was in 1940.  Mike showed us some large glossy photos from the filming of Forest Gump and then let us take his golf cart up the road for a spin just to see the countryside.  It is beautiful and peaceful, and I can understand their love for the place.

   

It was a calm night and being tied to the dock meant no rocking at all.  That night, we had the best sleep.  

Tonight is a different story.  We had a good sail to Church Creek on the Wadmalaw Sound, but we are having a flood tide (an exceptionally high tide) along with stout winds.  The boat is turning on its anchor and the wavelets are slapping at the stern, which makes it hard to sleep.  Not to mention that the stuffing box on the engine shaft is dripping more than it should which makes the automatic bilge pump go off more than it should.  The manual bilge pump isn't working properly, we discovered.  That's two things to fix tomorrow.  Good thing we had good sleep last night.  Always an adventure. 

Isle of Hope and More

We had hoped to head south, but for several reasons including our lack of experience and ability, Conan felt that we were not ready to go offshore, so he left the boat.  It was the right thing to do.  After much discussion, we are now heading north on the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) bound for the Chesapeake Bay.  Not quite as exotic as the Caribbean, but that will hopefully come later.  We feel that it is best to become completely familiar with Wayward Wind, learn ALL of her systems, and become comfortable with how she sails and motors before taking a long journey. 

We started south but had a bumpy motor into the wind only to Mayport (outside of Jacksonville) where we stayed the night at a marina.  After Conan left, Dave and I regrouped and made the decision to head north.  That afternoon, Dave and I sailed about five miles offshore back up to Fernandina Beach where we anchored out near the marina.  We had a wonderful sail up the coast and made good time with a 15 knot south wind behind us.  (Hope to upload some videos here when we have a stronger internet connection.)

In Fernandina Beach, we had a refrigeration guy look at our system because it seems to be cooling very slowly, but he tells us that the system is fine, so that's good.  On the blustery sail back from Mayport, our bimini ripped.  I was about to try stitching it myself when a neighbor at the dock recommended an older fellow, Roy Durden, who lived just down the road, "the first two-story house on the left with several boats in the backyard and he does good work and 'll give you a good deal and he's a character."  So we rolled up the bimini and walked about 20 minutes in the heat of the afternoon to Roy's house.  It was an old house that used to be white surrounded by lots of trees and the landmark backyard boats.  It was one of those places where the residents don't use the front door, so you're not quite sure if you should go up to the back door, which entered a screened-in porch, but we did.  A few moments after knocking, a bespectacled, white-haired gentleman sporting a white tank-T-shirt, blue jeans and suspenders came to the screen door.  He greeted us and then told us that his wife wasn't feeling well.  After telling him our canvas dilemma, he said, "Let's roll it out on the hood of the truck and see what we can do," and he gingerly walked bare-footed over to his dusty white Ford pick-up.  After several moments of scrutinizing "mmm's,"  he said that he could indeed make the repairs (actually there were several small tears, too).  He asked if we were leaving right away because he didn't normally work on Sunday but would if we were in a hurry, otherwise he'd have it ready the next afternoon.  We told him that would be fine.  Then we had one of those conversations that you don't want to end.  He asked where we were going and gave us many sage pieces of advice as to what areas to avoid on the ICW and what to see.  He would slowly say, "When you know these waters as well as I do, (fill in the blank) you'll want to stay right next to the shore of Cumberland Island."  We found out later that he taught at the local college and both he and his wife hold more than one Master's degree.  The next afternoon, Roy's wife, Linda, called to let us know that Roy would drive the bimini over to the dock.  So kind.  And the work was beautiful!  And a good deal, too.  But the best deal was having the pleasure of spending some moments with this wise man.

Also while in Fernandina Beach, we met a wonderful couple on Compass Rose, a fine ketch with lots of woodwork done by Ray and varnished by his wife, Bonnie.  Hailing from New Hampshire, they have that fabulous way of saying "chaht" and "hahbah."  They offered to drive us to town in their van, which was so sweet, so I asked them for a ride to the "hahdware store" and knew that they were rubbing off on us.  We went together to the Shrimp Festival, which, I might add, is gigantic!  Many streets blocked off for art, antiques, and shrimp, of course.  And GREAT music!  Afterwards we enjoyed dinner together at Applebees.  Each year, Bonnie and Ray spend several months sailing in the Caribbean.  Sounds like a good plan to me.  They will put their boat on the hard for the summer while they go home, then travel south again in January or February.  They told us that if we're ready, we can travel together.  We had them over for "suppah" (love it!) on Wayward Wind and great conversation.  Ray says often, "It's supposed to be fun."  Note to self.  

We have spent the last several days motoring - sometimes with the jib hoisted adding to our speed - up the rivers and sounds of Georgia and are now in South Carolina on Bull Creek off of the Cooper River.  Until Isle of Hope, we've anchored out at night away from civilization.  Except for navigating the shallow waters, it's been a mostly relaxing loll.  This will give you a taste:  Rollin' on the River.

And here is another that I call "Dave's Exercise in Futility, Flies."

On Tuesday afternoon, 5/3, we motored to Cumberland Island less than an hour away and anchored out.  The next day we had a lovely hike on Cumberland Island.  So peaceful and lush with moss dripping off the live oak trees.  Years ago, Andrew Carnegie's brother and his wife bought many acres there and built several buildings, most of which are is varying degrees of ruin.  Now only wild horses and other animals inhabit this part of the island, a National Seashore. 

On 5/5 we motored up the Cumberland River to Shellbine Creek - the quietest anchorage for the most peaceful night's sleep in three months.  Before bed, we watched rays jumping fully out of the water and slapping back down, belly flop style.  Awesome! 

The next day we motor-sailed with the jib up and anchored at Jekyll Island.  We invited "neighbors" Jim and Elaine on the trawler The Last One over for a visit along with their cute Lhasa Apso mix.  They are from Nova Scotia and Newfoundland.  Elaine says that Nova Scotia is actually not that cold because of the Gulf Stream effect.  Jim solved the mystery of our hand pump so we could finally pump up the dinghy all the way.  Later we scooted from the boat to the nearby marina in a flash.  But there looming above the river ahead of us was the Jekyll Island Bridge, supposedly 65 feet tall, to be faced in the morning.  Our mast is 63 feet with about two feet of wind vane, antenna, lightening dissipater and such on top.  Will we make it?

We left early the next day at low tide where the marker said 68 feet.  A bearded fellow was standing on his boat watching, waiting for a disaster, or so I thought to myself.  I called, "Do you think we'll make it?"  He said, "Plenty to spare!"  He was right!  We made it.  Our first bridge!  Whew!  Only 61 more to go!

We seem to be averaging five (the ICW is measured in statute mileage) miles per hour.  The next day we traveled 50 miles in eleven hours with an hour detour up a side river for diesel.  Anchored out on the Sapelo River at the Mud River confluence.  Although it was wide and open, it was another beautiful and quiet anchorage.  The next day we encountered our first low bridge.  I used the VHF handheld to radio the bridge tender that we were coming so that he would raise it.  He replied abruptly," What is your hailing port?"  I thought, "Oh, no!  I did something wrong.  We're in trouble!"  I said, "Our hailing port is San Francisco, California, Sir."  (Oh, that's really going to make a good impression here in rural Georgia.)  "You won't even have to slow down, Captain.  Bring her through," came the friendly Georgia drawl.  Whew!  The Coast Guard is not coming for us after all!  It's a little nerve racking as you approach the bridge and the cars are still going across.  Finally they stop and the bridge raises.  Dave masterfully steered her right through the opening.  The bridge tender radioed, "Y'all have a nice day."  I radioed back, "Thank you, Sir.  I was hoping that San Francisco would work for us."  "It always does," he said.  I could tell he was smiling.

The day before yesterday we anchored near a marina at Isle of Hope, Georgia.  We filled the diesel tank, pumped out the holding (poop) tank, and filled the water tank.  We did three loads of laundry and took real showers and washed our hair!  Good Lord, it's great to be clean!  We rode the marina's bikes into town to stock up on groceries at the Piggly Wiggly.  So we are set to go again.  In the afternoon, we also rode down the lane adjacent to the marina where majestic homes surrounded by ancient oaks sit watching the Skidaway River rolling by.  So beautiful.  And one had the cutest little red and white Nash Rambler parked in front.  Thinking of you, Ben Timmons!  (Ben is an Orchard View School graduate who is the proud owner of a aqua and white Nash Rambler.)

I'll add some photos and more videos to this post when we have a stronger signal, but need to get going now.  I can feel the tide changing as the boat is turning on its anchor.  We are well.  We are blessed.  Hope you all are well, too.  Much love.

6 am, 70 Degrees

It's warm these days.  Supposed to get to 85 degrees today here in Fernandina Beach.  It's humid, but not unbearably so.  Last night Dave cooked local shrimp and veggies from the Farmers Market and couscous.  Delish.  We tried to sell the car yesterday but ran into an issue with the used car dealer who said he'd buy it but ended up offering a much lower price than what we were led to believe.  We should have made him put it in writing early on, so that was our mistake.  Went to a couple of other dealers who offered more, but could not write a check until Monday.  Frustrating, but it's OK because it just gives us another day and a half to organize.

Conan has been a champ in jumping right in with a smile.  He's leant a hand and given good advice from route planning to engine maintenance to dinghy davit rigging (hanging our inflatable boat off the stern mount) to stowage.  Truthfully, in most instances, it is we who try to lend him a hand as he's the one with the expertise and mechanical chops.  A friendly guy with a can-do attitude, we truly appreciate his presence.
Selling the car is the last big hurdle.  We hope to do that tomorrow, then take off, weather permitting.  We'll head down the coast of Florida about 10 miles offshore.  When we're near the Lake Worth area, which will take about 24 hours of straight sailing, we'll choose one of three routes depending on the weather and how we are feeling.  We are bound for Turks and Caicos first just southeast of the Bahamas.  We have the option of a southern route skirting just north of Cuba then east, a middle route which heads southeast through the Bahamas then cuts east to deep water, or the direct route north of the Bahamas all in deep water.  If it's all good, we'll continue sailing.  If we need a rest or something comes up, we'll duck into Lake Worth and do what needs to be done.

Still a lot to do today.  I'm excited and nervous and happy and scared, but most of all I'm ready.

Welcome Conan

Our crew member, Conan, arrived yesterday.  His positive and inquisitive spirit is a welcome addition to Wayward Wind.  He brings with him some serious sailing experience - and experiences - as we learned from his stories.  Probably the most exciting was on his journey across the Atlantic with Force 8 winds (dat's alotta wind!) and 40-foot waves.  From Calgary, he's a science and physical education instructor at a university there as well as a physical health consultant.  Through crewing, he hopes to gain knowledge and experience so that he may take his wife and twin sons (now 5 years old) on an extended journey on a sailboat of his own.  I think, however, that he will teach us more than we will teach him.  Welcome aboard, Conan!

An hour after Conan arrived, Brian came by to help us with our SSB.  Another friendly and knowledgeable spirit, Brian, who holds a PhD in communications, is in a local radio club and knows just about everything about radios.  Our SSB receives communication as far away as Canada and Panama but cannot transmit.  Through phone calls and emails, Brian has given many suggestions which has gotten us this far.  Yesterday he brought his testing equipment to WW to see if we could solve the problem.  We were able to transmit at a low level and had a response, so someone out there heard us and called back.  The level, however, was low, so Conan cleaned the connections, and this morning we will drive to Jacksonville to get a part, although it's just a covering of a connector so probably won't make a difference.  Brian would not accept any compensation for his time and only asked for an email about our trip.  We'll send him the blog link.  Thanks, Brian!

The past three days, we've stowed the rest of the food and other things.  In the next few days, we'll finish setting up the satellite phone and email (for emergencies), finish orienting ourselves with the chartplotter, register the dinghy (still waiting for the title in the mail), go out for a sail close by with Conan so he can become oriented with the boat under sail, drop the car off at the used car lot, and buy the fresh food.  We'll plot our intended course and take off, hopefully within the week.

Early Morning Manatee

She/He was beautiful.  My brother-in-law says they're like big puppy-dogs.  True.  The word "lollygagging" comes to mind.  "Just swimmin' an' rollin' and enjoyin' the feel of fresh water in my mouth and on my back.  Life is gooood." 

As I was washing the sunnyside-up dollops of white and gray poops of heron off the dock, a gray form swam right up to the water trickling over the edge just a few feet from me.  Then a nose popped up and started slurping down the stream of water.  I called to Dave to come quickly as I thought the manatee would be startled and swim away.  But no, it was completely at ease with us there.  I ran to get the camera and took these videos and some snapshots.  Hope you enjoy them as much as we enjoyed our visitor.  Mother nature rocks!

 
Plan of departure is looking to be at the end of next week.  Conan, our crew member, says snow is predicted tomorrow in Calgary and spring is slow in coming.  We wrote that we had a beautiful day in the high seventies.  In fact, it was one of those perfect spring days you dream of, but no lolling about in the sun for us.  We're working like crazy to get everything ready.  We've got to put away the food and find a place for the things we've bought.  Everything has to have its place stowed away so as not to go tumbling while underway.  I feel like we're getting ready for a move.  Well, I guess we are - only the "house" is moving with us! 

On that note.  It's funny because when we're on deck while sailing, I'll think of something that I need, such as lip balm.  My first thought will be, "Darn, I forgot the lip balm."  Then I'll remember that everything I own is below deck and I simply have to go down and get it.  It's not like when you're on a hike ten miles from home.  Silly.

Dave is trying out the massive reel that he got on eBay and checking out the Florida coast charts that arrived today.  We bought a cruising guide for that area which tells about the harbors and good places to anchor and other useful info.  I also picked up my second pair of bifocal(!) sunglasses.  I love them!  I'm old!  Speaking of old, we recently discovered that our SSB radio, though it works well, is too old to take a modem, so no email.  However, we decided to utilize the old satellite phone through which we should be able to send and receive email.  I've also ordered a Wirie antenna to pick up wi-fi when we're near ports.  My brain aches from all of the new information that I'm learning.  It's as though the waterfall of new infomation is filling up the old brain bucket faster than it can take.  As I said, I'm old.

Tomorrow is supposed to be nice again, so we're going to try for a sail and imagine that we're way offshore and try out all of the systems.  Hope everything works!

Finally, a Destination OR Bound for Panama

After much research and discussion, Dave and I have settled on heading to the San Blas in Panama.  We feel good about this choice.  After the initial, "Yea, let's go for it!" comes the "OMG!  We have so much to do in the next two weeks!"  Maybe that's why I'm awake at 2AM.
- install the chartplotter program
- figure out how to hoist and secure the dinghy which arrives later this week
- break in the new outboard
- check and finish ordering any spare parts
- order the last few paper charts
- sell Dave's car
- continue to practice sailing with all of the instruments
- finish figuring out all of the remaining systems...shower drain pump, water maker, etc.
- finish provisioning food, seasick medicine, hygiene stuff, etc.
- set up sailmail (email)
- finish printing info about ports, tide tables, customs and immigration info now that we know our route
- make copies of passports and boat documents
- finish buying extra fuel, oil, air filters, belts for generator and engine
- apply "San Francisco, CA" (home port) decal on stern
- etc., etc., etc.
One thing at a time...

We've emailed and Skyped Conan, and we're happy that he has agreed to crew with us.  He's got a lot of sailing experience under his belt including a 25-day Atlantic passage that included gale force winds during which he slept on the leeward seat in the cockpit tethered to a cleat while he and the skipper took turns with one-hour night watches.  I think he's qualified.  And beyond sailing, he's an anatomy/physiology instructor at a university in Calgary with a PhD in the area of biochemistry as well as a health and fitness lifestyle consultant not to mention a scuba diver.  Aside from his many accomplishments, perhaps what most impressed me was his statement in his crewing profile that all of his sailing experiences were exceptional.  And this includes the mid-Atlantic gale force storm!  Definitely a can-do guy.

Last night we had a lovely visit from Michael and Mam, our neighbors here at Tiger Point.  They bought their boat several months ago and sailed throughout the Caribbean.  They didn't get to Venezuela as planned due to engine problems but had an interesting journey nonetheless.  After preparing their boat to summer here on the hard, they will drive back to Bend, Oregon to work and save money for their next journey - a trip around the Pacific Rim including a stop in Thailand to visit Mam's family.  And by the way, Mam brought a delicious pudding with rambutan, a fruit from Thailand.

Michael spoke of the need to change plans when the situation so demands.  As someone who is a planner, this is a hard one for me, not so much because I'm averse to plan changes but more so because I like to be prepared.  Dave was quite pleased with Michael's statement as he's been telling me the same for days now as we've been going back and forth as to our destination and route - Trinidad/Panama, through the Caribbean chain/leeward side/southwest near the Yucatan and Central America.  The bottom line for us is to go where and in the direction that makes sense with wind, weather and currents.  And sometimes you have to make that decision en route.  In fact I just read that the term "bound for" is used when describing one's intended route and destination for this very reason.   Michael and Mam said they had to make a decision to make a major change of course after facing a fierce headwind 120 miles out.  I guess the lesson is to be prepared.  Period. 

I mention this especially because, at times, I feel anxiety and wake up with, "What the hell are we doing?"  Then that passes and I feel that it's all going to be fine and wonder why I was so anxious a few hours earlier.  It's a strange thing that happens but, so I'm told, is not uncommon, especially for those just starting out.  It goes back to being prepared and knowing that the boat can handle things better than those inside.  So I'd better stop writing and continue preparing.

But I can't sign off without mentioning the fine acquaintance we made earlier with Paul, a Canadian from Ontario.  He'd had his boat stored here on the hard for the winter and drove down in his little RV to prepare Liesel for a cruise to the Bahamas, his wife to fly here soon after to join him.  Unfortunately when he uncovered his boat, he discovered three rats nests and an incredible mess.  Plans changed (there it is again) and he had to cancel the trip and instead spend his time cleaning up and rat-proofing the boat.  Paul is one of the most positive and enthusiastic people I've met.  His continual question to us was, "What is your dream?"  Dave and Paul shared their many sailing adventures and future plans.  

We also enjoyed hearing Paul's perspective on Americans.  He's noticed that Americans fear their government yet are the most patriotic people on earth.  In Canada, he says, the government is us.  He also told about his own American experience when he and his wife were in a parking lot in their RV when they decided they needed a sponge bath.  His wife who'd finished up, and Paul, mid-sponge bath, were abruptly interrupted when the doors flung open and a couple of policemen, guns blazing, yelled at them to get out.  So there was Paul, stark naked in a parking lot, hands up, wife shrieking at the police while they searched the RV.  Finding nothing, the police drove away.  Welcome to America.

Paul also relayed a story about his son while enjoying Mardi Gras in New Orleans one night needed to take a pee.  Being that the portable toilets were overflowing with urine, he decided to relieve himself out of sight behind the porta-potty.   Apparently he was not completely out of sight as he was arrested and jailed.  Whilst in his cell, he saw three successive men (white – I asked) horribly beaten by the police because they were “lippy.”  Paul’s son, who Paul says is an understated and quiet guy, watched and kept his mouth shut.  Fortunately he was not beaten.  Paul says this would never happen in Canada – the arrest or the beatings.

Wind rattling this and that and slowly rocking the boat.  Waves gently sloshing.  More preparations in the morning.  Back to sleep now.