Instant Pirate — Just Add Rum

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Okay, who are we kidding?  He doesn’t need the rum.  He’s always a pirate.

May 1, 2015:

It’s B!  Our buddy, Bottom-Job Brandon (who has rightfully reminded me anytime I mention his name, I should also mention his company — Perdido Sailor, Inc. — or he’s going to have to re-brand).  He’s all decked out here for the annual Pirate’s Ball, the kick-off for the annual Perdido Wooden Boat Festival at Pirate’s Cove in Josephine (more commonly referred to as Orange Beach), Alabama.

Phillip and I had the event on our calendar for weeks — May 2-3, 2015.  Not just because it’s an awesome pirate party, our friends were planning to sail over for it, too, and we really don’t need an excuse to get that boat out.  No, we were really going for the book signing!  The Point Yacht Club, the self-proclaimed “Little Yacht Club That Could” whose clubhouse-in-progress is right next door to the Cove, invited me over for a Salt of a Sailor book reading and signing before the ball.  Pirate costumes, rum and salty book sales?  Who says ‘no’ to that?  

We were also curious to see how the fridge would perform without power for the weekend after the pancreas-splitting Great Stuff repair.  We turned the fridge on on Wednesday evening to let it start cooling down.  While it did take some time (and several cranks up on the fridge setting), we were pleased to see it finally reach 40 degrees Friday morning on the 6 setting and holding.  We headed out that afternoon, planning to meet up with Brandon and his family on their Gulf Star at the Cove.  But, we were surprised to have him cruise right up next to us in the ICW on our way over.  Good timing.

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That little 17′ sloop rig he’s towing is s/v Ellavday, a wooden boat he and his father-in-law built for Brandon’s daughter, Ella.  Great name, huh?  That thing is a beauty and so much fun to sail.  If you want to really sharpen your sailing skills, test them in a little boat!

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It was great to have Brandon cruising along next to us, too.  I love when we see fellow boat buddies out on the water.  It’s just “boat code” to snap pics of each other under sail.  With s/v 5 O’clock leading the way, we made our way on over to the Cove.

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In the weeks before the ball, Phillip and I had been snatching up some pirate attire and accessories and sending pictures to Brandon and his crew with a little light trash-talking as to whose costumes were going to be better.  It must have worked because the Halls took the prize with their complete family pirate ensemble, from parents to little pirate run-a-mucks, even the gangly photo-bomber in the back.

Nice hat Uncle Russ.

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I would say the doo-rag on their little pirate bundle (Kaitlin) was the cutest, but I just couldn’t.  This little rapscallion (Ella) stole the show, unsheething her cardboard sword at every opportunity and poking the air with a fierce “AAAaarrrggghhh!”

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You know it makes you want to do it, too.  Go on.  Who cares what your co-workers think.  Close your door and unleash your inner pirate — “AAaarrrgghhh!”

The Captain and I came decked out in full costume as well, donning head-to-toe swashbuckler attire:

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Jody Horner with the Yacht Club was instrumental in putting together this whole reading and signing, and I can’t thank her enough.

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She literally dragged people over to my table by force, fished twenties out of their pockets and made them buy my book.  It was awesome!

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At Jody’s request, I read a fun passage from the book that describes our Second Mate for the momentous journey — the infamous MITCH!  This was the passage she chose:

Now, let me take a moment to tell you a little more about our Second Mate–the infamous Mitch.  Where do I begin?  First, I must say, he’s an incredible friend to give up five days to sail across the open Gulf with us and help get the boat back.  As fun as it is, remember what I told you about sailing, it is indeed hard work, and we were out of touch with the rest of the cellular world for days at a time.  That’s a big commitment, and there is no way we could have done it without him.  But, as I mentioned, Mitch is all of six feet, four inches.  While that may seem pretty normal for a guy–on land–it’s a bit much on a 35-foot sailboat.  Mitch lumbered and bumbled around that boat like an elephant going through a carwash.  Each step of his foot on the deck sounded like Neal Armstrong landing on the moon.  Ka-boom.  I honestly felt sorry for him while I watched him bumble up and down the companionway stairs and through the hatch.  He must have felt like he was crawling around on Playskool equipment.   After a while, he decided to give it up altogether.  Instead, each time I got up to go down the stairs, and I mean the minute I merely lifted my ass off of the cockpit seat, he would start in with “While you’re down there.”  Sometimes I just had to screw with him.  “Down where? I was going up on the deck to check the sails,” I would say as I walked up topside, knowing full well I had had every intention of going down below, but whatever it was for was now going to wait another fifteen minutes until the next time Mitch beckoned.  I have to admit, it was fun, and Phillip and I had a good time christening him with the nickname–Mitch, While-You’re-Down-There, Roberts.  But, to be honest, I’m sure it was a lot of work for him to lug that big body up and down those tiny stairs, and he did hold the helm for several shifts that day, so, the teasing was always followed with, “Sure buddy.  What do you need.”  Mitch was a talker and a screamer but he had a heart of gold.  He taught me a great deal about sailing and he was a true asset on the trip.

The reading really was quite an honor and I enjoyed chatting with readers and fans afterward while Jody hustled them out of their hard-earned bills.

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I also donated a few books and bottles of wine as a giveaway to help the Point Yacht Club raise money to finish their clubhouse-in-progress.  They’re getting close!

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After my Sharpie was worn to a nub, it was time for the much-anticipated Pirate’s Ball!  We shuffled our way over to the Cove and stumbled upon this striking figure on the way in:

Lady BlackSquall!!  Yowza!

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And, do know that the bottle she’s holding was chalk full of home-made moonshine which she forced you to take a shot of before you could pass through to the party.  Love that gal.  But, the real treat of the evening?  Mr. While-Your-Down-There himself showing up for the party, dressed in full pirate regalia with his trusty sea-wench at side!

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Clearly we don’t need the rum to act like pirates …

After we petered out from the pirate party, we crashed hard on the boat.  Having it right there docked up at the Cove always makes for an awesome boating weekend.  That way you have easy access to all your amenities (which for us, was still a cold fridge on the 6 setting), yet easy access to the ongoing party at the Cove.

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The next day we toodled around and checked out the exquisite wooden boats on display for the festival.

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I set up a little table as an official “vendor” with my books in tow (Little Author Who Could here) in hopes of selling a few copies at the festival.  Business was slow at first, so I busted out my ukulele and started strumming about in hopes of drawing folks to my sad little tent.  Somehow, I managed to entice this interesting chap.  Meet Gnarly:

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He’s gnarly.  He was also an awesome guitarist.  He gave me his pick and taught me how to (in his words) “spank on the strings.”  I had a great time hanging out with Gnarly.  Life is so full of cool people.

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With Gnarly’s magic touch on the uke, I was able to snag a few folks in my web and sell some books.

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It was enough, at least, to buy us dinner and a few rum drinks that night.  If sales ever start to cover boat repairs and maintenance, I think we’ll be all set.  In all, it was another wild and raucous weekend at the Cove, with great friends and supporters of my author endeavors.  I can’t thank the kind folks at the Point Yacht Club enough for hosting the book signing for me.  It was fun being a celebrity for an hour.  We had a great sail home, too, with the sun setting on our port and the moon rising at the same time to starboard.

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Strange to think it really is the same sun and moon that set and rose back in the pirate heydays.  Heck, I’ll bet some of the crumbling planks that make up the walls at Pirate’s Cove are from the same era.  The swashbuckling behavior there sure hasn’t changed.  They still drink, holler, spit and dance.  I don’t think it’s the rum that makes the pirate, it’s the spirit.

 

Thanks as always, to the many patrons who help make these posts just a little more possible through PATREON.

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Bon Buffett Voyage – Day Two: Sheer Entertainment

April 22, 2015:

I don’t know if you guys can handle this–a dolphin display, an aerial acrobatics show, and a ukulele concert.  Light the flame-throwers, blow the pyrotechnics, it’s time to get RAW!

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Yeeaaaaahhhhh!

Alright, there were no pyrotechnics, but everything else I mentioned is right here baby!  Day two of the Bon Buffett Voyage we woke to dolphin’s breath on the starboard stern.

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They were swirling and stirring and (well, probably doing what we know dolphins love to do) for a good ten minutes while Phillip and I sipped our coffee in the cockpit.

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It was a surprisingly cool morning in Ft. McRae with the cloud cover.  Nice for lounging, but we were hoping to see some more input into the solar panels.  We knew, though, that we would be putting some juice in during our motor that day, so a cool morning to read and write topside was welcome.  Our next stop on the trip?  Ingram’s Bayou:

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We weighed anchor and threw up the sails pretty early so we could spend the majority of the day making the fun three-hour jaunt to the Bayou.  The wind filled in nicely and we ended up having a pretty sporty little sail over.

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The last time we had dropped the hook in Ingram’s was during our Thanksgiving trip 2013 and she appeared to be just as we remembered her–pristine and serene.  We nestled in and Phillip set off to paddle our perimeter, check depths and poke around back in the bayou.

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What did I do?  Pretended to write until he left …

“You go right on ahead, babe.  I’ve got plenty of blogging to get to here.”

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Apparently those are my hangover eyes!

But, the minute he was gone, I set up the camera so I could video myself practicing his birthday present.  Was it this?

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No, that came later.  That’s just everyday Annie stuff hanging around all upside-down-like.  He’s used to that.  No, for the Captain, I had to go all out.  Do something he would know took time, effort and energy.  I spent the better part of the week before we left trying to learn a new song to play him on the uke!

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He had been pretty keen on Riptide by Vance Joy, so I got all disciplined with it and made myself practice, practice, practice until I had it … well, had it at least recognizable.  At least I hoped.  I decided to film one version all the way through while he was gone in case I got all fumbly and bumbly while playing it for him and goobered the whole thing up (happens all the time).  And, don’t worry, I royally goobered this one pretty good, but I’ll share it anyway for your entertainment.  I have such a hard time singing at a different beat than I’m playing.  It’s like rubbing your stomach and patting your head.  I can only do it if I can find a match on the down beat-slash-rub.  Anyway, for what it’s worth — enjoy!

And, just for fun, here’s a gal actually doing this song justice on the uke.  She seems a little off when the video starts (I thought she was about to play while high on pain meds as some ice bucket dare or something) but then she nailed it.  This is what it was supposed to sound like:

[And, as an aside, if you’re in any way thinking about picking up the uke, I highly recommend it.  You can get one at pretty much any little music store for around $50, it’s small and travels well, and it’s really pretty easy to start learning basic songs during your first lesson yet still challenging enough to push yourself on harder ones.  Great, free entertainment and mental stimulation.  I mean, why not?]

So, when the captain made his way back to the boat, I set us up on the foredeck with two deck chairs, two glasses of champagne and proceeded with the live version.  I actually didn’t do half bad so the video wasn’t necessary.  I even inspired Captain himself to give it a little go.  (Minus the wailing pelican in the background … aka me!) his show wasn’t half bad either.

Needless to say, we had fun with it.  But, post-concert was the real treat.  The last time I had hung the silks on the sailboat for an aerials session was November of last year (far too long!).  The conditions were perfect that evening in Ingram’s Bayou–calm, cool and still–for a sunset session.  Captain helped me rig it up and I set to it.  It was even more fun now that I had learned so many new tricks!

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We totally need to install some pyrotechnics on the boat for this.  Get all New World Order with it.  BOOM!

In all, it was an incredibly fun day.  It makes me think back on all the times people have asked me — “Don’t you get bored just sitting around on the boat all day?”  Rather than enlighten them, it makes me want to say — “Yeah, it’s just awful.  I’d much rather be working.”  Best to keep the secret.  We don’t want these anchorages to get too crowded.  Ha!  We like the serenity.

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We cheersed the sunset and set to grilling up two killer salmon filets for dinner.

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Oh, and definitely give this a try – a super-easy, super-flavorful (and light) sauce for fish, veggies, white meat, etc.  Make it to taste, but it’s roughly 1/4 cup Greek yogurt, 1 tbsp dijon mustard, and dried dill weed.  Perhaps Day Two dinner deserves some pyrotechnics too.  BOOM!

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Thanks as always, to the many patrons who help make these posts just a little more possible through PATREON.

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Open Says-a-Me!

May 1, 2014:

That’s right.  May.  We finally made it to MAY.  Phillip and I both couldn’t believe we had spent an entire month on the boat and it had felt like only a couple of weeks, a few days at the most!  Time was flying and our trip, it seemed, was slipping by faster than we would have liked.  But, I’m sure it always feels that way.  You never really want to go back … once you start going!  But, sadly, we had jobs and meetings and all sorts of other obligations calling us back to Pensacola, so we needed to start making way that way.  Although our original plan had been to make our way up along the coast to Clearwater before we jumped back across the Gulf to Carrabelle, considering our engine situation (one drip approximately every 10 seconds) and reports we had heard of storms rolling into Clearwater, we decided to motor up the ICW to Venice to shave a little off of our trip to Clearwater and closely monitor our engine in the safety of protected waters.

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We would then make the Gulf crossing we had now made three times back from Clearwater to Carrabelle.  It would be the last BIG crossing of the trip.

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And, as you may recall, the last time we made this passage, from Clearwater to Carrabelle, we beat into 30 hours of rough weather and seas and had to hack off our dinghy in the middle of the crossing.

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The really mind-blowing thing was, though, that she made her way across the entire Gulf alone and ended up in Ft. Walton, where we reclaimed her.  This time, thankfully, we had opted for an inflatable dinghy, which was stowed safely below, so, assuming good weather, we were hoping to have a smoother passage.  But, that was the next leg.  We set our sights first on Venice via the ICW.  Now, recall we still had a dripping dripless, although it was relatively minor, and a fluky manual bilge pump which we attributed to a cracked pump hose.  So, our first mission that morning was to retrieve the replacement hose we had ordered at the Gasparilla Marina and make sure our manual bilge pump was working.  That was the mission anyway …

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I will say, it was a beautiful area around Gasparilla for walking, biking, canoeing, and

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they had a very friendly staff at the marina, happy to sell us any type of hose we wanted.  Cha-ching!  Unfortunately, though, the new hose didn’t fix our manual bilge pump problem.  Even after feeding the new hose from the pump at the cockpit down to the bilge, we still couldn’t suck the last bit of water out.  It seemed the pump wasn’t sucking very well.  It kind of sucked at sucking, I guess you would say …

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But, our electric bilge pump was working fine, our manual pump was only kind of sucky and our thirsty Thirsty Mate, that trusty ole’ chap, was working great.  Super suckage.  So, we decided to go for it.  We tossed the lines, had a friendly lad at the dock help us ease out (hence – no docking debacle this time!) and headed up the ICW toward Venice.

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See ya!

Now, the ICW runs along the West Coast of Florida from Anclote Key (Tarpon Springs, just north of Clearwater) down to Ft. Meyers, and serves as a nice option if the sea state in the Gulf is gnarly and you still want to make way along the coast.  Most of the bridges along that route are either 65 feet or taller or they open to allow marina traffic through.  We had six bridges total to make it through from Gasparilla up to Venice.

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Most of them were open on-demand.  Meaning you call the “bridgemaster” (I assume that’s his technical title) about 10 minutes out to request he open the bridge for you — “Open Says-a-ME!”  Assuming no traffic or issues, it’s no problem, he opens the bridge as you’re headed toward him and voila!  Occasionally, he may have some traffic backed up or some other issue and you’ll have to do a few circles before he can make it happen for you, but it’s generally not a problem.  Other bridges open on a schedule, once every 15 or 30 minutes.  So, you just have to know your bridges ahead of time and schedule/plan accordingly.

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Luckily, I travel with the most awesome Captain in the world, and he had figured all of this out ahead of time and had all the numbers and times and everything printed out, ready to go, while I sat around and ate grapefruit.

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Ain’t life grand?  Okay, I shared some with the Captain, too.

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Grapefruit … yum!

But, Phillip soon wised up and put me to work, keeping up with the log book, checking on the bridge times and

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(of course!) monitoring our engine drip.

Drip … 

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Drip … 

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We were motoring under moderate load most of the day and she was dripping once approximately every 15-20 seconds.  It seemed the hotter and harder she ran, the less the drip.

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No comment …  Likely the pressure and heat caused the seal around the stuffing box to swell, which created a tighter seal.  In all, we were pleased with the slight drip and felt comfortable spending the day motoring up the ICW.  The esteemed Captain called ahead as needed for bridges that opened on demand.

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“Open Says-a-ME!”

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And we tried to motor accordingly (slower or faster) to come up on those that were scheduled just about the time they were opening.

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It was pretty cool to see the massive cranks and gears that raised these bridges.

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It’s pretty impressive to take a road that can hold tons upon tons of traffic and just … eehhh … crack it open and let a boat through.  While most opened up like a drawbridge, we did pass through one that spun on an axis.

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Like I said.  Pretty cool.  Definitely a different feeling than making our way across the Gulf.  While we prefer to sail — always — it was a nice motor day and we got to marvel at some impressive engineering feats along the way.

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An inspection of the arm showed I was developing a rare case of what we quickly coined “elephantitis.”

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Everything from the wrist down was normal until about here,

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where it balooned out and took on a squishy, swollen feel all the way up to my shoulder.  And, let me just warn you – do NOT Google images for elephantitis.  Just.  Don’t.

We made it to the Crow’s Nest Marina in Venice around 3:00 p.m. and settled in nicely at Slip No. 9.  The staff at the marina were exceptional.  They helped us dock, welcomed us with maps, info, a menu for the local Crow’s Nest restaurant and showed us the facilities.  Washer & dryer, nice showers, restrooms, even free bike rentals for marina guests.  Sweet!

Live webcam leading out to the jetty:

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By then, it was getting close to 4:00 and we were getting … happy.  “I’ll take an Oh Shit!, please.

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Mmmmm-Hmmmm!

We sat and sipped and uked and watched the marina activity for a bit,

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before cleaning up to head over to the Crow’s Nest Marina Restaurant for dinner.  They had separate shower suites, with restroom and shower stalls, which is super nice.

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Not “truck-stoppey” at all!  The arm was looking awesome …

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Not disgusting at all!  Just kind of Popeye’ish if you ask me.

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I do eats me spinach!  But, it was progressing along fairly well and still attached … so, no complaints.

We cleaned up and got ready for a nice dinner at the marina restaurant.  The bottom floor of the Crow’s Nest Restaurant is more casual, a tavern-like atmosphere with light fare, live music, etc.,

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while the top floor is a ritzy, fine-dining restaurant.

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We figured, when in Venice

“Table for two, please.  Top floor.”

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And, the food … was … decadent!  We ordered up some phenomenal chicken skewers and oysters to start,

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which of course came with a basket of piping hot fresh bread and a trifecta of dipping goodness (salty house-made butter, crushed garlic spread and olive oil with spices.

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Then, well, things got a little hazy.  I remember ordering (and thoroughly enjoying) the snow crab legs, and Phillip got the lamp chops.  But, let’s just say, we were a few cocktails, two glasses of champagne and a couple bottles of wine in.  I told you we were going to take this crazy act on the road!  I remember the crab legs, but not the bib …

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You say it brings out my eyes?  Stop it.  Cap’n, you’re making me blush.  My, my … “

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May 20, 2013 – Play Some Skynyrd!!

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!

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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:

Last kid picked

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.

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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.

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Oh, and there was also that Hawaiian guy with the rainbow song:

Iz

Whatever Iz name is.  Ha ha.  I kill myself some times.

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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:

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoHw-hqiJHA&sns=em

Then graduated to some classic rock:

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dp-F7nWZGmw&sns=em

I mean, who doesn’t like Marshall Tucker Band?  Seriously?  I can tell you these classy folks right here do.

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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!”

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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!

Broadway Briefs 1

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=4992095483331

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??

Fanta sea