So, the last leg of The Crossing. The final push. The last mile. The home stretch. This was it. After a month sitting stagnant in the lonely waters of the Carrabelle River, we finally got word our boat was ready to come home. Mechan-Eric called on Monday to let us know he was expecting the transmission on Tuesday and would be installing it on Wednesday. “That’s great,” we said. “We’re coming Thursday.” And so the feverish planning began. Phillip and I had talked to some friends about helping us make the last leg of the passage back, but it seemed no one could get away for another 5-6 day trip … Except ME!!! I felt like Gladys at the Senior Citizen’s Dance – just dying for Phillip to Pick me! Pick me!
I’d learned a lot on The Crossing and felt like I had really earned my stripes. I was ready. Put me in coach! As true as that may have been, I had certainly proven myself sea-worthy on the first leg of The Crossing (or so Phillip told me while he gave me an “atta girl” pat on the head), the sad truth was I was the only one available. I was his only hope, so I got the position by default:
Fine by me. That meant I was going!
So we started planning. We decided to leave on a Thursday (May 23rd), via a ride from our ever-faithful sail groupies (aka Phillip’s folks), enjoy a final leisurely stroll with them through downtown Apalachicola on Thursday afternoon, crash on the boat that night and get up Friday morning to make the first passage to Panama City, about a 24-hour run. We were going to decide then whether we wanted to stop in PC for the night or just keep trucking across the Gulf to Pensacola.
We started making another provisions list (you remember the beast of a list we put together for the initial Crossing: http://havewindwilltravel.com/2013/05/19/april-12-2013-purchase-and-pork-planning-and-provisions/), planning out our meals, checking our inventory of equipment. Making lists and checking them twice, basically. Since we were a little more comfortable with the boat (and figured with just the two of us, minus one mouthy second mate, it would be a bit quieter this time), we planned to bring a few more leisure items this time – books, the Kindle, the ukes, etc.
Wait. Record scratch. Errrhhht. The whats?!?! You heard me. The ukes. Ukeleles.
Little four-stringed guitar wannabe instruments that are great for the beach or the boat or just about anywhere your little uke-ing heart desires to play them. You’ve heard them, I’m sure, in many Jack Johnson numbers, but I think Eddie Vedder really gave them that rock star sizzle.
Oh, and there was also that Hawaiian guy with the rainbow song:
Whatever Iz name is. Ha ha. I kill myself some times.
My blog, my cheesy jokes. I get to laugh if I want to.
Phillip actually got a uke first after several of his friends started bringing them to the beach to pick around on while waiting for the wind to blow. Turns out, picking on a uke is much better than picking gnats and flies off each other while you’re sitting around waiting for the wind to blow. Once he got one, I was destined. We started out with some Mraz:
Then graduated to some classic rock:
I mean, who doesn’t like Marshall Tucker Band? Seriously? I can tell you these classy folks right here do.
We hit the town for some post-uke session drinks after the filming of that fine Marshall Tucker number. We were the ones in the back of the bar, PBRs in hand, shouting “Play some Skynyrd!”
Yep, real classy.
Phillip and I are certainly not headed for a record deal anytime soon, but we don’t really care. We just have a good time plucking and a-playing.
Besides my heart’s still set on Broadway. I think my pal Lucy and I got a real shot!
Ahh … the things I post on the internet for your sheer entertainment. You can thank me later – or better yet, thank Lucy. She rocked that number!
So, with the ukes and our musical ambitions on board, we set our sights on Apalachicola and getting our boat home. Finally. The big trip was just two days away and we were beyond excited! I mean, could life get any better??