Tired as dogs! We sat there on the dock for about a half hour, re-living the “best sail of our lives” and re-enacting some of the more ‘harrowing’ and hilarious moments from the initial crossing, in awe, really, that we had finally brought the boat all the way from Charlotte Harbor to Pensacola. It was almost surreal to see her there, glistening in the sun, at the dock in Pensacola. The dockmaster came around 8:00 a.m. and put us in a transient slip for the night. Once she was secure, we started unpacking the boat and looking for a hot shower and a warm meal. And, of course, what every sailor wants after a big hearty trip?
You’re darn right! We were in desperate need of a big hearty drink. It seems we had adapted quite well to the salt life. Rum now ran in our blood, calling us the minute we set foot on shore. Okay, while that’s not entirely true (that gives me the image of a grimy sailor busting into a run-down old wash house, snatching a bottle off the shelf and ripping the cork out with his teeth before he chugs it down), we probably would have done that, had there only been an old run-down driftwood bar at the dock.
That’s right, pass it this way Sparrow.
Honestly, though. We just couldn’t stay away from her. We didn’t quite get that “Ahhh … we’re finally home!” feeling. It was more like, “Hurry, get cleaned up quick so we can go back and check on the boat!” We invited some friends over to meet us in the cockpit for drinks and to check out the boat as a ridiculous disguise, but Phillip and I both know we would have spent the evening on the boat friends or not. We just couldn’t stay away. So, we headed back down to her, rum drinks in hand.
Can I get that to go please?
Rum Runner recipe
We like to add a little splash of juice from the maraschino cherry jar to give it that red cherry color, then add a toothpick with cherry and orange slice on top for garnish. And, the umbrellas are certainly fun. I got like 500 of them on a buy-one-get-one-free special at Party City months ago so we now find any excuse to stick an umbrella in our drink. I sometimes stick one in my morning coffee and tell myself I’m sure that’s how they do it in the Islands. But, I wouldn’t recommend you try it. Few can really pull that off.
Finally back to tell our story, and now with friends nestled in the cockpit, captivated, begging for tall tales at sea, Phillip and I re-lived our docking in 20 mph winds in Clearwater, our hacking off the dingy in the middle of the Gulf, our 16-hour tack from Panama City to Pensacola, the heroism, the hangovers, the hooker, everything! And, our tales probably got a little taller on round two (and were probably not recognizable as the truth on round three), but we had a great time telling them. And, it may have been the nostalgia of home or the rum or a little bit of both, but I honestly think the sun called in a special setting to welcome us back to Pensacola that evening because it was absolutely stunning:
We all toasted the sunset and enjoyed a wonderful evening on the boat, and Phillip and I knew home was never going to be “home” again if our boat wasn’t there.