Thursday, November 15, 2007
Pictures to come soon, I swear.
As soon as I upload those suckers, they'll be up. First I gotta eat though. You blame me? Damn.
First Day in the Bimini
November 13
Went to bed last night at like 7:00. Woke up at midnight, refreshed. Ready to take on the world, some ocean, or a marlin. Read 5 chapters of The Sun Also Rises, apropos of the marina we are at, home of the “Hemingway Tournament.” Big Hemingway place. Wish he were here, so I could kick his ass, so he could buy me a drink after. Then we’d ride bulls across the deck to haul in a whale or two. Ruth and I got up. Hung EVERYTHING out to dry. Got a huge red snapper for dinner off a fisherman. How to gut a fish? I’ll check into it. Had an amazing lunch with James. Went down the main road of Bimini. About 9 feet wide. Enough for 1 ½ golf carts if neither driver had been drinking. Right. Met a dude named “Checkitout.” Not his Christian name. Actually, “Paul.” (is a Christian name.) Sells ganja. Nice guy. Listened to the Bahamanian obituaries on the radio, which are on at least 15 frequencies. No kidding. Met another cat who told us he was building a transformer. I looked at it.
I looked at it again.
It was a tunafish can, with holes punched in it, duct taped to a beer can, with a 16 penny nail punched in it, with pipe clamps around it. There were also pieces of ground wire tied in knots at various places around it. It didn’t look particularly effective, except at transforming garbage into differently shaped garbage.
Besides being an inventor, or technician of sorts, he was also:
285 years old
a former member of the New England Patriots
held in the dungeons at NASA
been shot through the hand (apparently just glazed him)
had “Air Force” written in Sharpie on his hat
I’m here to tell you, there’s no way this dude was in the air force. He was squinting, and I happen to know it takes extraordinary vision to be a so called “Top Gun.”
Had Bimini bread, of the sweet potato variety. Best bread I have ever had, except my mother’s. Basically, sweet potato mash, oil, and some sugar. No idea if it rose at all, but it made me STRONG.
Got a Guiness in the bottle, sans nitrogen capsule. This reference will be lost on most, but suffice to say, you haven’t been able to purchase this, my favorite of favorite beers in the states since about 2000. They stopped making it, I thought. No idea how long this one was around. I didn’t ask. I drank that sucker, still cold. Aw yeah.
Everybody here says "good afternoon," but the most common is "All right." That's the first thing they say. Kinda like "what's up." Period.
The radio is fried from the inexplicable indoor salt splash. The radio has resumed salsa. My salsa jar is empty of whisky. Ruth is making hamburger with onions, green peps, and some noodle concoction and it smells magnificent. (Did I mention that she is my religion? Her and my mom. BELIEVE THAT.)
Why am I here typing?...
Love you guys. All
.
GOTTA GO!!!!!
Went to bed last night at like 7:00. Woke up at midnight, refreshed. Ready to take on the world, some ocean, or a marlin. Read 5 chapters of The Sun Also Rises, apropos of the marina we are at, home of the “Hemingway Tournament.” Big Hemingway place. Wish he were here, so I could kick his ass, so he could buy me a drink after. Then we’d ride bulls across the deck to haul in a whale or two. Ruth and I got up. Hung EVERYTHING out to dry. Got a huge red snapper for dinner off a fisherman. How to gut a fish? I’ll check into it. Had an amazing lunch with James. Went down the main road of Bimini. About 9 feet wide. Enough for 1 ½ golf carts if neither driver had been drinking. Right. Met a dude named “Checkitout.” Not his Christian name. Actually, “Paul.” (is a Christian name.) Sells ganja. Nice guy. Listened to the Bahamanian obituaries on the radio, which are on at least 15 frequencies. No kidding. Met another cat who told us he was building a transformer. I looked at it.
I looked at it again.
It was a tunafish can, with holes punched in it, duct taped to a beer can, with a 16 penny nail punched in it, with pipe clamps around it. There were also pieces of ground wire tied in knots at various places around it. It didn’t look particularly effective, except at transforming garbage into differently shaped garbage.
Besides being an inventor, or technician of sorts, he was also:
285 years old
a former member of the New England Patriots
held in the dungeons at NASA
been shot through the hand (apparently just glazed him)
had “Air Force” written in Sharpie on his hat
I’m here to tell you, there’s no way this dude was in the air force. He was squinting, and I happen to know it takes extraordinary vision to be a so called “Top Gun.”
Had Bimini bread, of the sweet potato variety. Best bread I have ever had, except my mother’s. Basically, sweet potato mash, oil, and some sugar. No idea if it rose at all, but it made me STRONG.
Got a Guiness in the bottle, sans nitrogen capsule. This reference will be lost on most, but suffice to say, you haven’t been able to purchase this, my favorite of favorite beers in the states since about 2000. They stopped making it, I thought. No idea how long this one was around. I didn’t ask. I drank that sucker, still cold. Aw yeah.
Everybody here says "good afternoon," but the most common is "All right." That's the first thing they say. Kinda like "what's up." Period.
The radio is fried from the inexplicable indoor salt splash. The radio has resumed salsa. My salsa jar is empty of whisky. Ruth is making hamburger with onions, green peps, and some noodle concoction and it smells magnificent. (Did I mention that she is my religion? Her and my mom. BELIEVE THAT.)
Why am I here typing?...
Love you guys. All
.
GOTTA GO!!!!!
Crossing the Gulf (wow) Nov. 13?
November 14, they tell me.
Okay. So, where do I start? We watched the weather, and decided against various days for 10 days straight, basically because there was a north wind. No North Wind. That’s the mantra. So we waited. And waited. Every day some north wind. The reason being that the Gulf Stream runs north at 2 ½ knots (3 mph to you landlubbers) and when the wind crosses it, the waves grow. And grow, and the more they grow, the more they grow. Because the little dents the wind makes, the wind can grab onto as it blows. And the wind blows on a 2 foot wave, and the top of the wave is exposed to more wind, and the bottom isn’t, and so it grows. And grows. And grows.
So that’s the problem. So we cross. We got up at 3am, out in the harbor, stuck in the shallows at 4. Out of there, 4:10. So far, so good. We get out in the Gulf Stream ten miles, and the seas grow from 3 feet to 6 feet. And up. The forecast was 2-4, and then falling down smaller. Plus, the closer to where the wind starts blowing across the water, the less room it has to build the waves. So, the idea is that by the time we get there, they should be smaller. And the axis of the Gulf Stream is near Florida, 15 miles out, and it’s far from Bimini, where we decided to go first, because it’s closest. Well, anyway, that all sounds good on paper.
We get out there, and the seas grow. Not only that, but the wind grows. East wind. (the Gulf Stream runs north-northeast). So east isn’t so good, but at least it’s not the north, right? Well it didn’t start out that way. It shifted to the north right away. First 5 knots. As predicted. Then ten knots. The outside estimate of the prediction.
Oh, more background: I was going to put the bolt through our keel before we left. It swings up toward the boat so you don’t ground in shallow water. After we got stuck (4:00) James, the guy driving the other boat headed out. I thought, no biggie. I won’t put the bolt through the keel. Something that’s a precaution to make the boat self righting in case of a capsize, but otherwise better to leave out, in case you hit bottom it can swing back. Still with me? Good.
Okay, so I start to see bigger and bigger seas, and as a precaution, I decide “I’ll go put that bolt in now. We’re in plenty deep water, we’re more likely to capsize than run aground now.” So I take the bolt out of it’s seat, where it has the role of keeping water out of the boat, basically at the waterline. I lower the keel so the holes line up, and go to replace it.
But it doesn’t go.
It won’t fit. The holes won’t line up, because of the sideways push on the keel from the wind. So now it’s half in, half out.
It’s stuck.
And every time we hit a wave, water shoots through both sides of the holes into the boat. I fought with it, and fought with it, and really broke a sweat (I rarely sweat), and got it out. Put the keel back in swing mode, replaced the bolt, and locked it in place, and the water out. So that worked out.
Things were cool for several hours. It was beautiful. Gorgeous clouds, sunrise, (we got pictures), got a rainstorm for five minutes and a huge rainbow (no pictures), saw flying fish, and the bluest water ever. Like a mile deep, crystal clear. Pretty cool.
Eventually, things got bad. Winds picked up, now in addition to the big waves from the north we were crossing at an angle, which was fairly comfortable, sails up and motor on, we got 20mph winds from the east, on the nose, so motor only, and the boat is less stable. They grew. They got big. The period between the waves shrank. That means the wave shapes get steeper. A lot steeper. As we got closer, it got crazier, and crazier, and weirder and freakier.
We made it, obviously. But here’s some gory details to try to convey the size of the load in my pants by the time we got done:
Remember that part in the Perfect Storm when Marky Mark is on deck wrestling with some line on the bow as the rest of the Funky Bunch wrangle the boat around and there’s like sheets of water landing across everybody? It was kinda like that. Wet. Salty.
So wet, that even though the cabin was locked tight, the whole inside was drenched. So wet, our clothes were soaked under our doubled raingear (bibs, jacket with hood).
So salty that I just took a shower, and there was little cubes of salt on either side of my eyes, and in my eyelashes, crystallized- AFTER I got out of the shower. And I’m a thorough showerer. (showerist? Anyway…)
So wavy, that at times our boat would launch off of a wave, and I could feel air under the rudder (which is in the back, you landlubber). When the waves stacked up, coming from all different directions, and they’re 8-10 feet tall, and all in a bunch (gaggle? Herd? Bevy? Bushel?) they looked like a mountain range on a video game. Spiky. Hard to pour gas into a fuel tank in that shit, believe me.
James said he could see our keel (the fin under the boat) in the air off of the big waves. Some were breaking across our bow, all the way up to the MAST. Our boat is 25 feet long. That’s some big waves.
So we made it. We’re sitting on a wet bed, in dry clothes, in Bimini, and it’s beautiful. The water was the color of a blue slurpee (slushee) but brighter, when we got here 12 hours or so later.
Oh, and the last mile or so, the engine made some really funny noises, so we’re lucky we got here when we did. And not Ha Ha funny, like when I step on a rake and it hits me in my giant oversized novelty clown nose. But like a grating, and a crazy POP sound. Oh well, now we have something to do tomorrow.
By the time it was over, I was using both the tiller AND the motor to steer in unison. It was that hard to navigate. Oh yeah, and the tiller handle on the motor came off while we were in the middle of it. I had to screw the pieces back together while Ruth steered and the Funky Bunch threw Marky Mark lifelines in my mind. Ruth did so MUCH, besides steer (which she did A LOT, in addition to all of the other stuff she did, which was basically everything else, like weigh anchor, pour gas, talk on the VHF radio when needed, read charts, etc. etc. I married a total BADASS. She even made us sandwiches. Now she’s next to me in our wet bed, with the rigging shuddering in the wind, the waves lapping, me tapping, and she’s reading about how to catch a marlin in the Gulf.
James rocked too. He knows his shit, and it’s a reassurance to sail along side someone who knows what’s up so much, reads the maps right, gives us fuel injection cleaner when the engine was racing in idle, and even bought us conch fritters for dinner when we got here. Great guy, even if he did sail on autopilot most of the way, the bastard.
I have boxed 10 rounds, I have crashed cars, I have jumped out of an airplane, and nothing, I don’t think was as intense as this.
WOW. I’m beat. I’m going to BED.
WOW.
I repeat: WOW.
Okay. So, where do I start? We watched the weather, and decided against various days for 10 days straight, basically because there was a north wind. No North Wind. That’s the mantra. So we waited. And waited. Every day some north wind. The reason being that the Gulf Stream runs north at 2 ½ knots (3 mph to you landlubbers) and when the wind crosses it, the waves grow. And grow, and the more they grow, the more they grow. Because the little dents the wind makes, the wind can grab onto as it blows. And the wind blows on a 2 foot wave, and the top of the wave is exposed to more wind, and the bottom isn’t, and so it grows. And grows. And grows.
So that’s the problem. So we cross. We got up at 3am, out in the harbor, stuck in the shallows at 4. Out of there, 4:10. So far, so good. We get out in the Gulf Stream ten miles, and the seas grow from 3 feet to 6 feet. And up. The forecast was 2-4, and then falling down smaller. Plus, the closer to where the wind starts blowing across the water, the less room it has to build the waves. So, the idea is that by the time we get there, they should be smaller. And the axis of the Gulf Stream is near Florida, 15 miles out, and it’s far from Bimini, where we decided to go first, because it’s closest. Well, anyway, that all sounds good on paper.
We get out there, and the seas grow. Not only that, but the wind grows. East wind. (the Gulf Stream runs north-northeast). So east isn’t so good, but at least it’s not the north, right? Well it didn’t start out that way. It shifted to the north right away. First 5 knots. As predicted. Then ten knots. The outside estimate of the prediction.
Oh, more background: I was going to put the bolt through our keel before we left. It swings up toward the boat so you don’t ground in shallow water. After we got stuck (4:00) James, the guy driving the other boat headed out. I thought, no biggie. I won’t put the bolt through the keel. Something that’s a precaution to make the boat self righting in case of a capsize, but otherwise better to leave out, in case you hit bottom it can swing back. Still with me? Good.
Okay, so I start to see bigger and bigger seas, and as a precaution, I decide “I’ll go put that bolt in now. We’re in plenty deep water, we’re more likely to capsize than run aground now.” So I take the bolt out of it’s seat, where it has the role of keeping water out of the boat, basically at the waterline. I lower the keel so the holes line up, and go to replace it.
But it doesn’t go.
It won’t fit. The holes won’t line up, because of the sideways push on the keel from the wind. So now it’s half in, half out.
It’s stuck.
And every time we hit a wave, water shoots through both sides of the holes into the boat. I fought with it, and fought with it, and really broke a sweat (I rarely sweat), and got it out. Put the keel back in swing mode, replaced the bolt, and locked it in place, and the water out. So that worked out.
Things were cool for several hours. It was beautiful. Gorgeous clouds, sunrise, (we got pictures), got a rainstorm for five minutes and a huge rainbow (no pictures), saw flying fish, and the bluest water ever. Like a mile deep, crystal clear. Pretty cool.
Eventually, things got bad. Winds picked up, now in addition to the big waves from the north we were crossing at an angle, which was fairly comfortable, sails up and motor on, we got 20mph winds from the east, on the nose, so motor only, and the boat is less stable. They grew. They got big. The period between the waves shrank. That means the wave shapes get steeper. A lot steeper. As we got closer, it got crazier, and crazier, and weirder and freakier.
We made it, obviously. But here’s some gory details to try to convey the size of the load in my pants by the time we got done:
Remember that part in the Perfect Storm when Marky Mark is on deck wrestling with some line on the bow as the rest of the Funky Bunch wrangle the boat around and there’s like sheets of water landing across everybody? It was kinda like that. Wet. Salty.
So wet, that even though the cabin was locked tight, the whole inside was drenched. So wet, our clothes were soaked under our doubled raingear (bibs, jacket with hood).
So salty that I just took a shower, and there was little cubes of salt on either side of my eyes, and in my eyelashes, crystallized- AFTER I got out of the shower. And I’m a thorough showerer. (showerist? Anyway…)
So wavy, that at times our boat would launch off of a wave, and I could feel air under the rudder (which is in the back, you landlubber). When the waves stacked up, coming from all different directions, and they’re 8-10 feet tall, and all in a bunch (gaggle? Herd? Bevy? Bushel?) they looked like a mountain range on a video game. Spiky. Hard to pour gas into a fuel tank in that shit, believe me.
James said he could see our keel (the fin under the boat) in the air off of the big waves. Some were breaking across our bow, all the way up to the MAST. Our boat is 25 feet long. That’s some big waves.
So we made it. We’re sitting on a wet bed, in dry clothes, in Bimini, and it’s beautiful. The water was the color of a blue slurpee (slushee) but brighter, when we got here 12 hours or so later.
Oh, and the last mile or so, the engine made some really funny noises, so we’re lucky we got here when we did. And not Ha Ha funny, like when I step on a rake and it hits me in my giant oversized novelty clown nose. But like a grating, and a crazy POP sound. Oh well, now we have something to do tomorrow.
By the time it was over, I was using both the tiller AND the motor to steer in unison. It was that hard to navigate. Oh yeah, and the tiller handle on the motor came off while we were in the middle of it. I had to screw the pieces back together while Ruth steered and the Funky Bunch threw Marky Mark lifelines in my mind. Ruth did so MUCH, besides steer (which she did A LOT, in addition to all of the other stuff she did, which was basically everything else, like weigh anchor, pour gas, talk on the VHF radio when needed, read charts, etc. etc. I married a total BADASS. She even made us sandwiches. Now she’s next to me in our wet bed, with the rigging shuddering in the wind, the waves lapping, me tapping, and she’s reading about how to catch a marlin in the Gulf.
James rocked too. He knows his shit, and it’s a reassurance to sail along side someone who knows what’s up so much, reads the maps right, gives us fuel injection cleaner when the engine was racing in idle, and even bought us conch fritters for dinner when we got here. Great guy, even if he did sail on autopilot most of the way, the bastard.
I have boxed 10 rounds, I have crashed cars, I have jumped out of an airplane, and nothing, I don’t think was as intense as this.
WOW. I’m beat. I’m going to BED.
WOW.
I repeat: WOW.
Ruth's 1st day in the BIM
wa wa WEE wa!! Respek! I is here in Bimini wit ma main man JacK. And we is right now sittin here by the docks of the bay at da Blue Water Marina!
Today we tidied up the boat a little more, and hung up and layed out everything that got drenched during the big trip over (quite a number of items). We walked around the island a bit, mostly the central part. I think it is about 8 miles long, but it is less than a quarter mile to walk across! After James treated us to lunch at Capt' Bob's Restuarant, Jack and I walked down the one main road on the island (imagine strolling down an alley). We hit the beach on the other side of the island...the water is SO clear! It is the most beautiful light blue/aqua color that is so amazing it's hard to describe! Imagine a Blue-Raz slushie from 7-11...(haha ok, maybe not so hard to describe...)
The islanders ride around in golf carts (or should I say GULF carts, haha) and bikes. We ran into a lot of people on foot too. Almost everyone calls out a "hello" or a "good afternoon" to you. Walking around felt like we were strolling through someone else's neighborhood, which, of course, we WERE....but what I mean is the area wasn't very touristy and it felt slightly awkward to be exploring such a small town, almost like we were invading the native's space. The island has a lot more trash and litter on it then I would have imagined, and a great number of homes and buildings are boarded up or closed down. Besides this, it is beautiful in that every tree, plant, and flower is in bloom. The sun is always shining and the sky is very blue. There are conch shells EVeRyWhERe - on the beach, scattered around the island, and even engrained in the gravel and pavement.
On our walk, we tried the wonderful Bimini bread! It was VERY delicious!!! We got their sweet potato bread, and seriously: food of the gods. Almost melts in your mouth! Mmmm...sweet potato bread....
Everytime I get on or off the boat I see small jelly fish in the water! They are purple-rimmed and transluscent. They don't have tentacles, at least ones long enough that you can see. They pump their way through the water. Pretty! Yay!
I also saw a small, flourescent yellow/black striped fish and a couple of small exotic fish with spots and flourescent blue tails. Oh, and GET THIS: a few minutes ago Jack pointed out to the water and called our attention to this big ray leaping out of the water! It was BIG! It flopped high into the air twice! James commented it was either chasing after something or something was chasing after IT. Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Earlier today Jack bought a red snapper off of a fisherman. Talked him down from $30 to 25. It is big!!! We are going to thaw it over night and gut it tomorrow! Coolness.
It seems we will be sticking around this harbor, at least this area, for a couple more days. There is a front moving in Friday, which means big winds. We may find shelter on some other part of the island, who knows?
I can't wait to go back to the beach! On our way in yesterday,we spotted an old shipwreck that had washed up onto the beach. It was old and rusted and looked like a lot of fun to explore! Right across the street, on the other side of the island, looked like a good place to snorkel.
Woah, James just said on his way to his boat he saw an 8 ft shark and a baby shark in the water! Sweeeeet.
Love you all. Love Jack. Love ocean, sun, birds, and fish. Love survivin' a rowdy gulf stream trip to north Bimini!!!
Today we tidied up the boat a little more, and hung up and layed out everything that got drenched during the big trip over (quite a number of items). We walked around the island a bit, mostly the central part. I think it is about 8 miles long, but it is less than a quarter mile to walk across! After James treated us to lunch at Capt' Bob's Restuarant, Jack and I walked down the one main road on the island (imagine strolling down an alley). We hit the beach on the other side of the island...the water is SO clear! It is the most beautiful light blue/aqua color that is so amazing it's hard to describe! Imagine a Blue-Raz slushie from 7-11...(haha ok, maybe not so hard to describe...)
The islanders ride around in golf carts (or should I say GULF carts, haha) and bikes. We ran into a lot of people on foot too. Almost everyone calls out a "hello" or a "good afternoon" to you. Walking around felt like we were strolling through someone else's neighborhood, which, of course, we WERE....but what I mean is the area wasn't very touristy and it felt slightly awkward to be exploring such a small town, almost like we were invading the native's space. The island has a lot more trash and litter on it then I would have imagined, and a great number of homes and buildings are boarded up or closed down. Besides this, it is beautiful in that every tree, plant, and flower is in bloom. The sun is always shining and the sky is very blue. There are conch shells EVeRyWhERe - on the beach, scattered around the island, and even engrained in the gravel and pavement.
On our walk, we tried the wonderful Bimini bread! It was VERY delicious!!! We got their sweet potato bread, and seriously: food of the gods. Almost melts in your mouth! Mmmm...sweet potato bread....
Everytime I get on or off the boat I see small jelly fish in the water! They are purple-rimmed and transluscent. They don't have tentacles, at least ones long enough that you can see. They pump their way through the water. Pretty! Yay!
I also saw a small, flourescent yellow/black striped fish and a couple of small exotic fish with spots and flourescent blue tails. Oh, and GET THIS: a few minutes ago Jack pointed out to the water and called our attention to this big ray leaping out of the water! It was BIG! It flopped high into the air twice! James commented it was either chasing after something or something was chasing after IT. Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Earlier today Jack bought a red snapper off of a fisherman. Talked him down from $30 to 25. It is big!!! We are going to thaw it over night and gut it tomorrow! Coolness.
It seems we will be sticking around this harbor, at least this area, for a couple more days. There is a front moving in Friday, which means big winds. We may find shelter on some other part of the island, who knows?
I can't wait to go back to the beach! On our way in yesterday,we spotted an old shipwreck that had washed up onto the beach. It was old and rusted and looked like a lot of fun to explore! Right across the street, on the other side of the island, looked like a good place to snorkel.
Woah, James just said on his way to his boat he saw an 8 ft shark and a baby shark in the water! Sweeeeet.
Love you all. Love Jack. Love ocean, sun, birds, and fish. Love survivin' a rowdy gulf stream trip to north Bimini!!!
Missed post 10-26
10-26-07 12am?
(This post was written 10-26, not uploaded because there's no internet connection, or I'm a slacker. Sue me.)
Made it here. Can't find a place to launch because of a huge boatshow, let alone dock. We are unwelcome EVERYwhere. Drove to Miami. Time for a drink. What do the locals have? Clamato flavored Budweiser. No lie. Not bad though. They also sell the champagne of beers, Miller High Life. In quarts. Ruth gets a Sparks, of course, and we go to the marina we think will be most likely to accept us tomorrow. Ruth tastes her first saltwater, then kisses me and says the Clamato Budweiser is saltier. "Not bad though." We befriend the guy at the baitshop, Al, and Cooper the head of security. They allow us to camp in the lot of the marina against the rules. and talk to us of manatees. Ruth sees an egret. The radio is in spanish, and the rain is incessant. This Clamato beer is delicious. No, I did not make that up.
(This post was written 10-26, not uploaded because there's no internet connection, or I'm a slacker. Sue me.)
Made it here. Can't find a place to launch because of a huge boatshow, let alone dock. We are unwelcome EVERYwhere. Drove to Miami. Time for a drink. What do the locals have? Clamato flavored Budweiser. No lie. Not bad though. They also sell the champagne of beers, Miller High Life. In quarts. Ruth gets a Sparks, of course, and we go to the marina we think will be most likely to accept us tomorrow. Ruth tastes her first saltwater, then kisses me and says the Clamato Budweiser is saltier. "Not bad though." We befriend the guy at the baitshop, Al, and Cooper the head of security. They allow us to camp in the lot of the marina against the rules. and talk to us of manatees. Ruth sees an egret. The radio is in spanish, and the rain is incessant. This Clamato beer is delicious. No, I did not make that up.
WAITING (NOVEMBER 2-11)
Noverendingber 2-11
In case I haven't mentioned it, I'm doing the large type because there's three people viewing who have bad eyes. So deal with it, if you want to read our stuff (and I would never assume you would, I'm just saying) Waiting to cross. North winds. First day we turned into the weather, there was 20 foot breaking waves (not the ones you ride over, the ones that roll over you as your boat rolls underneath filling with water... yeah, those) because of a north wind, so we kept forgoing the possibility. Because once you commit... you're in. Whether in the clear, in the drink, or whatevs, you're in. So we wait. It's beautiful, but it's difficult to live on almost no money, hoarding every bit of juice the solar panels soak up. We're waiting, and trying not to spend money, but the fact that there's always something you don't have, safetywise, comfortwise, or however, it keeps tempting your money out of your pocket. We're about broke, and even WATER costs money. Without salt in it, anyway. So we wait.
In case I haven't mentioned it, I'm doing the large type because there's three people viewing who have bad eyes. So deal with it, if you want to read our stuff (and I would never assume you would, I'm just saying) Waiting to cross. North winds. First day we turned into the weather, there was 20 foot breaking waves (not the ones you ride over, the ones that roll over you as your boat rolls underneath filling with water... yeah, those) because of a north wind, so we kept forgoing the possibility. Because once you commit... you're in. Whether in the clear, in the drink, or whatevs, you're in. So we wait. It's beautiful, but it's difficult to live on almost no money, hoarding every bit of juice the solar panels soak up. We're waiting, and trying not to spend money, but the fact that there's always something you don't have, safetywise, comfortwise, or however, it keeps tempting your money out of your pocket. We're about broke, and even WATER costs money. Without salt in it, anyway. So we wait.
Old Bloggy blog I just updated
CAPTAIN'S LOG: STARDATE NOVEMBER 2, 2007
So much has happened in a few days. We drove a couple thousand miles. At 45 miles per hour pulling the boat. Slept in the truck for the week it took. Or whatever. I don't even remember if I already wrote this. It's all a blur. Some of the highlights though... Our tire debacle. Okay, I remember writing some of this already. After our series of flats and blowouts, we had a couple of guys sell us a new tire, put it on, replace the spare, balance the tire (which they apparently forgot), all for... $20. Normally those truck tires are like $150. Anyway, cheap things, caveat emptor,etc.They wound the spare back up under the truck with an impact wrench.Did I already mention this? Anyway, so we got almost to New Orleans to drop the truck off, and I see something fly across my rearview, and feel a bump. I pull over, check all the wheels, which are fine, and then it occurs to me to check the spare. Not there. Apprarently, the geniuses (genii? What's the plural? Genies?) who put the spare on with the torque wrench broke it, and it flew off, thus the bump I felt, and the object hurtling through the air I saw in my periphery. Great.
Okay, I find it, not far back. Traffic is thick, and very fast. I'm waiting for an opening as cars swerve around it. Each apparently as startled as the last. Just as I see an opening coming, FINALLY, the last car of the pack clears it, but has steered so hard, so fast, they 180 and crash into the cement median. Screeching tires. Sparks. Etc. I tell Ruth to check and make sure they're okay, and I'm going to run get this thing before someone else has a problem.
Again, just as an opening appears, the last one in the herd hits it. Pieces of broken wheel are flying around, the car gets two blowouts, and skids to the side. It's a cop.
Long story short, the cop didn't even want our names, our help, a ride, or anything. The other people were okay. I got the wheel out of the road, which, of course, was trashed.
Then we went on to Benjamin's house where we stayed for a few days, while we built a doghouse for the dogs and fenced the yard, (we're leaving our dogs there with our tenants while we're gone)
So much has happened in a few days. We drove a couple thousand miles. At 45 miles per hour pulling the boat. Slept in the truck for the week it took. Or whatever. I don't even remember if I already wrote this. It's all a blur. Some of the highlights though... Our tire debacle. Okay, I remember writing some of this already. After our series of flats and blowouts, we had a couple of guys sell us a new tire, put it on, replace the spare, balance the tire (which they apparently forgot), all for... $20. Normally those truck tires are like $150. Anyway, cheap things, caveat emptor,etc.They wound the spare back up under the truck with an impact wrench.Did I already mention this? Anyway, so we got almost to New Orleans to drop the truck off, and I see something fly across my rearview, and feel a bump. I pull over, check all the wheels, which are fine, and then it occurs to me to check the spare. Not there. Apprarently, the geniuses (genii? What's the plural? Genies?) who put the spare on with the torque wrench broke it, and it flew off, thus the bump I felt, and the object hurtling through the air I saw in my periphery. Great.
Okay, I find it, not far back. Traffic is thick, and very fast. I'm waiting for an opening as cars swerve around it. Each apparently as startled as the last. Just as I see an opening coming, FINALLY, the last car of the pack clears it, but has steered so hard, so fast, they 180 and crash into the cement median. Screeching tires. Sparks. Etc. I tell Ruth to check and make sure they're okay, and I'm going to run get this thing before someone else has a problem.
Again, just as an opening appears, the last one in the herd hits it. Pieces of broken wheel are flying around, the car gets two blowouts, and skids to the side. It's a cop.
Long story short, the cop didn't even want our names, our help, a ride, or anything. The other people were okay. I got the wheel out of the road, which, of course, was trashed.
Then we went on to Benjamin's house where we stayed for a few days, while we built a doghouse for the dogs and fenced the yard, (we're leaving our dogs there with our tenants while we're gone)
Monday, November 12, 2007
Why we're not writing blogs
Our PC is a chunk of crap. The plug they sold us with it constantly comes undone, and the battery never gets higher than 1% power anymore. Sucks. Even when it's plugged in, we have no DC plug, so we use an inverter, which takes an enormous amount of electricity, and depletes our batteries, which power our VHF radio, our fridge, and start our motor. So it's obvious why we watch that stuff close, and therefore, don't write much till we can get over. It's the only one that can use a cell signal to get online, and the macs have to go somewhere with a wireless connection. Nowhere near here, too much. We're nuzzled up in a cove in the west side of Key Largo, where we're protected from the north winds. Some place called Jewfish Creek.
We've been waiting since the 2nd to cross, waiting for the north wind to abate. It has not, in over a week. We might have a small window to cross on wednesday, but we're watching the weather close. If you go when there's a north wind, the waves grow really quickly, because they cross the curren, which runs north-northeast. They can get up to 20 feet, at least this week they have. Yikes.
So we wait. And eat. And sit. And read. And sit. And eat. Cookies.
We miss everyone already. And we miss Cash and Mickey terribly. Our sons. Love you all.
Jack
We've been waiting since the 2nd to cross, waiting for the north wind to abate. It has not, in over a week. We might have a small window to cross on wednesday, but we're watching the weather close. If you go when there's a north wind, the waves grow really quickly, because they cross the curren, which runs north-northeast. They can get up to 20 feet, at least this week they have. Yikes.
So we wait. And eat. And sit. And read. And sit. And eat. Cookies.
We miss everyone already. And we miss Cash and Mickey terribly. Our sons. Love you all.
Jack
Saturday, November 10, 2007
AHHH!!!!! Yesterday I saw DOLPHINS!!!! DOLPHINS!! DOLPHINS!!! DOLPHINS!!!!!!
Jack and I spent two days sailing/motor-sailing from Miami to Key Largo via the Intercoastal Waterway and Biscayne Bay to meet up with James (the person we are going to cross the Gulf Stream with). We stopped the journey to spend the night on the boat because a rainstorm came on. We slept on and off while the boat rocked CONStAnTLy from one side to the other. It was all good though and totally worth it. At the end of the trip, we slowly floated down this little river and each side of the river was overgrown with mangroves! They are the prettiest trees, with roots intertwined and twisting, sticking high out of the water. In the spaces of the roots and branches were the coolest birds! We got real close up to a blue crane, a pelican, and about a dozen white cranes. They were awesome! Super white with long, folding necks and were surprisingly pretty loud.
James is the coolest. His knowledge about sailing is far-reaching and he and his boat are equipped with some of the best and most useful equipment. He has tabs on the weather at all times via XM satellite. He can tap into any weather buoy to measure wave height and gather information on water and air conditions. His advice so far has been really helpful. He's shared a lot of tips and knowledge, and we feel really confident about crossing with him! He just stopped by, in fact, on his dinghy to visit and discuss our crossing details. As it is right now, we are planning to cross Tuesday night at 1am!!!
James is letting us borrow a DVD he has on heavy weather sailing that we are going to watch tonight. He even gave us a packet of fishing hooks that he recommends and packet of minnow hooks (fishing hooks with the fake minnow attached). HIGHLY AWESOME AND HIGHLY THOUGHTFUL!!
So back to the Dolphins! Yesterday, James took us over to Gilberts, a cute outdoor tiki bar and resturant 1/2 mile away. All three of us sat in his dingy and motored over, and when we got toward shore, Jack pointed to this huge fish poking halfway out of the water. As I began to grasp what I was seeing, I looked around and saw 4 or 5 other fins poking out of the water and sinking back down. Haha, the first thing I thought was "Sharks!" Then Jack exclaimed "Those are dolphins!" .....then the thrill and the excitment began....
As we motored slowly up to the dock, a dozen or more dolphins slipped casually in and out of the water! They even rode along beside us in pairs! The experience was heightened by the fact that we were on EVEN PLANE with the water!!! :) :) :) :) :) I even saw a dolphin flip facing toward me so I was able to see its beautiful face. This was, like, 15 feet away! As Jack and James were tying up the dinghy, I couldn't help but ignore them and gawk out into the bay where the dolphins were pleasantly swimming about. It was all I could take from just jumping into the water and swimming alongside one! As I watched, one dolphin LITERALLY jumped five feet into the air! It was one of the most amazing things I've seen EVER IN MY LIFE, let alone on this trip so far. I seriously don't even know what is in store for us over at the Bahamas...but I can't wait to find out!!!
Jack and I spent two days sailing/motor-sailing from Miami to Key Largo via the Intercoastal Waterway and Biscayne Bay to meet up with James (the person we are going to cross the Gulf Stream with). We stopped the journey to spend the night on the boat because a rainstorm came on. We slept on and off while the boat rocked CONStAnTLy from one side to the other. It was all good though and totally worth it. At the end of the trip, we slowly floated down this little river and each side of the river was overgrown with mangroves! They are the prettiest trees, with roots intertwined and twisting, sticking high out of the water. In the spaces of the roots and branches were the coolest birds! We got real close up to a blue crane, a pelican, and about a dozen white cranes. They were awesome! Super white with long, folding necks and were surprisingly pretty loud.
James is the coolest. His knowledge about sailing is far-reaching and he and his boat are equipped with some of the best and most useful equipment. He has tabs on the weather at all times via XM satellite. He can tap into any weather buoy to measure wave height and gather information on water and air conditions. His advice so far has been really helpful. He's shared a lot of tips and knowledge, and we feel really confident about crossing with him! He just stopped by, in fact, on his dinghy to visit and discuss our crossing details. As it is right now, we are planning to cross Tuesday night at 1am!!!
James is letting us borrow a DVD he has on heavy weather sailing that we are going to watch tonight. He even gave us a packet of fishing hooks that he recommends and packet of minnow hooks (fishing hooks with the fake minnow attached). HIGHLY AWESOME AND HIGHLY THOUGHTFUL!!
So back to the Dolphins! Yesterday, James took us over to Gilberts, a cute outdoor tiki bar and resturant 1/2 mile away. All three of us sat in his dingy and motored over, and when we got toward shore, Jack pointed to this huge fish poking halfway out of the water. As I began to grasp what I was seeing, I looked around and saw 4 or 5 other fins poking out of the water and sinking back down. Haha, the first thing I thought was "Sharks!" Then Jack exclaimed "Those are dolphins!" .....then the thrill and the excitment began....
As we motored slowly up to the dock, a dozen or more dolphins slipped casually in and out of the water! They even rode along beside us in pairs! The experience was heightened by the fact that we were on EVEN PLANE with the water!!! :) :) :) :) :) I even saw a dolphin flip facing toward me so I was able to see its beautiful face. This was, like, 15 feet away! As Jack and James were tying up the dinghy, I couldn't help but ignore them and gawk out into the bay where the dolphins were pleasantly swimming about. It was all I could take from just jumping into the water and swimming alongside one! As I watched, one dolphin LITERALLY jumped five feet into the air! It was one of the most amazing things I've seen EVER IN MY LIFE, let alone on this trip so far. I seriously don't even know what is in store for us over at the Bahamas...but I can't wait to find out!!!
hooked uP
Right now I'm lying on the boat, on our homemade 4 inch cushions, in 82 degree weather. I just finished a Miller High Life, after drinking coconut milk OUT OF THE COCONUT for the first time! Jack squeezed the juice out for me after drilling through it, then he cut the nut in half with his hatchet and scooped out the coconut with a spoon for me!
The ukeleles are hanging on the wall, the clarinet is taped to the ceiling; everything has its place, as random as everything is. The pens are in the same jar as the screwdrivers as the iching cream as the nail clippers--but that's where they belong. I'm surrounded by intensely bright sunshine and palm trees, flocks of seagulls and pelicans, and songs from Steve Earle, Shane MaGowen, and The Cows (from Jack's Ipod).
This boat is equipped to the NINES!!! I must credit Jack with much of the planning, organizing, installing, and inventing that makes this boat what it is. We are running our electronics off of the marina's outlets on the docks right now, but when we are out on the water (which will be a majority of the time) the boat runs off of solar panels and the alternator on the engine. The solar panels work so well, that without having a charge controller, they would OVERPOWER the batteries. That's how badass they are! Shit yeah! So these panels are able to power a mini fridge (with a freezer and a lot of room), a fish/depth finder, a microwave (which, without marina power, can be used with a 1000 watt inverter), a computer, digital camera, VHF radio, fan, radar detector, and radio (which we run our Ipods off of and the XM radio)---we are HOOKED UP!!!
The ukeleles are hanging on the wall, the clarinet is taped to the ceiling; everything has its place, as random as everything is. The pens are in the same jar as the screwdrivers as the iching cream as the nail clippers--but that's where they belong. I'm surrounded by intensely bright sunshine and palm trees, flocks of seagulls and pelicans, and songs from Steve Earle, Shane MaGowen, and The Cows (from Jack's Ipod).
This boat is equipped to the NINES!!! I must credit Jack with much of the planning, organizing, installing, and inventing that makes this boat what it is. We are running our electronics off of the marina's outlets on the docks right now, but when we are out on the water (which will be a majority of the time) the boat runs off of solar panels and the alternator on the engine. The solar panels work so well, that without having a charge controller, they would OVERPOWER the batteries. That's how badass they are! Shit yeah! So these panels are able to power a mini fridge (with a freezer and a lot of room), a fish/depth finder, a microwave (which, without marina power, can be used with a 1000 watt inverter), a computer, digital camera, VHF radio, fan, radar detector, and radio (which we run our Ipods off of and the XM radio)---we are HOOKED UP!!!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
How I almost cancelled the trip
OCTOBER 25, 3pm
We've been in this truck for two days straight. We've had 2 blowouts, one on the trailer, one on the truck, only to find that the tires we bought in May were antiques, destined to crumble after short service, and that our jack and tools have been lost, discarded as superfluous, or traded for some magic beans, depending on who it was that parted with them. We bought a truck tire from some dudes that all talk like Boomhauer on King of the Hill, and then broke the tire lift system putting away the spare.
Besides the two blowouts, we've pulled 2 more nails from another tire. I can't help but feel good though.
We're getting closer. We're driving west across Florida now. Home of Jeb Bush, Tony Montana, and the destination of the Butthole Surfers dancing to sausages the size of Ray Bolger in a traffic jam. At least that's what I think they said. Nothings going to keep us from doing this. Except one thing. One thing ALMOST did. I forgot to write this part earlier... How this trip almost didn't happen.
What's the one thing that could keep us from going? Well, if we lost the boat.That might put a little kink in the plan. It happened like this: we're driving along, and when you get up to about 55 or 60 mph, the boat and the trailer start to do this hula dance behind the truck. And when you try to correct it, you make it worse, usually. And to step on the brakes risks a jackknife and I can testify, there's really nothing quite like the experience of going 60 or 70 on the expressway, sideways, with the trailer pushing the truck along, visible only through the passenger door window, (where it shouldn't be) and then looking out the driver's door window and seeing signs coming at your face, coming within a foot of it, right up to the window and then disappearing below the truck, out of sight. It's quite an experience. Really quite fascinating,and fun to recollect as you clean the shit out of your pants. And since that anecdote was caused by a trailer ball coming out of a bumper, and the trailer hanging on chains alone, I don't use the chains anymore. Because if that trailer comes loose, I don't want it anywhere near me.
So where was I? Oh yeah. So, the truck's swinging a lot, and it makes me really nervous, since it's the last thing you think before you jackknife: Gee, the trailer seems like it's really swinging a lot! BOOOOOM. Etc. So we get out to move the gas cans around in the boat so that the weight is really even on both the front and back of the trailer axle. How do you know if it is? Well, you disconnect the trailer ball of course. Check the balance, and then set it back down on the ball. And then, what you're SUPPOSED to do is tighten the receiver back onto the ball. OR, the ALTERNATIVE is to get yourself a king sized box of chocolate covered tootsie rolls, a coffee, a Red Bull, and then jump in the truck, and start driving. And then, as you drive along, you can ruminate on how well the trailer is riding along back there, hardly pulling at all, and you hardly feel the trailer, and how clever you are, as you jam another handful of sugary treats into your hungry piehole.
Until you figure it out: the boat, the trailer, all of your work, your home for the next several months, your most valuable possession, your EVERYTHING, is coasting along with just the receiver SITTING ON TOP OF the trailer ball. TOTALLY DISCONNECTED, just balancing there precariously, fortunately, until you hit a bump, a turn, or run over a pebble, or the wind blows. And then the comedic moment when I realize I'm racing down the road like this, and totally crap my pants (figuratively, my friend, figuratively). The only thing more hilarious than the blood curdling scream of a little girl that I made might be the look on my face if the boat sailed past me (so to speak) in the passing lane. So anyway, to sum it up, I pulled over, supercautious and all, and managed to completely stop without ditching the boat. As Yoda once said, "SUPER SCARY THAT WAS." I am an extremely lucky person. Maybe a bit daft. Let's see how I do on this trip overall, and I'll let you be the judge. I promise to document as accurately as my pride will allow. Kirk out.
We've been in this truck for two days straight. We've had 2 blowouts, one on the trailer, one on the truck, only to find that the tires we bought in May were antiques, destined to crumble after short service, and that our jack and tools have been lost, discarded as superfluous, or traded for some magic beans, depending on who it was that parted with them. We bought a truck tire from some dudes that all talk like Boomhauer on King of the Hill, and then broke the tire lift system putting away the spare.
Besides the two blowouts, we've pulled 2 more nails from another tire. I can't help but feel good though.
We're getting closer. We're driving west across Florida now. Home of Jeb Bush, Tony Montana, and the destination of the Butthole Surfers dancing to sausages the size of Ray Bolger in a traffic jam. At least that's what I think they said. Nothings going to keep us from doing this. Except one thing. One thing ALMOST did. I forgot to write this part earlier... How this trip almost didn't happen.
What's the one thing that could keep us from going? Well, if we lost the boat.That might put a little kink in the plan. It happened like this: we're driving along, and when you get up to about 55 or 60 mph, the boat and the trailer start to do this hula dance behind the truck. And when you try to correct it, you make it worse, usually. And to step on the brakes risks a jackknife and I can testify, there's really nothing quite like the experience of going 60 or 70 on the expressway, sideways, with the trailer pushing the truck along, visible only through the passenger door window, (where it shouldn't be) and then looking out the driver's door window and seeing signs coming at your face, coming within a foot of it, right up to the window and then disappearing below the truck, out of sight. It's quite an experience. Really quite fascinating,and fun to recollect as you clean the shit out of your pants. And since that anecdote was caused by a trailer ball coming out of a bumper, and the trailer hanging on chains alone, I don't use the chains anymore. Because if that trailer comes loose, I don't want it anywhere near me.
So where was I? Oh yeah. So, the truck's swinging a lot, and it makes me really nervous, since it's the last thing you think before you jackknife: Gee, the trailer seems like it's really swinging a lot! BOOOOOM. Etc. So we get out to move the gas cans around in the boat so that the weight is really even on both the front and back of the trailer axle. How do you know if it is? Well, you disconnect the trailer ball of course. Check the balance, and then set it back down on the ball. And then, what you're SUPPOSED to do is tighten the receiver back onto the ball. OR, the ALTERNATIVE is to get yourself a king sized box of chocolate covered tootsie rolls, a coffee, a Red Bull, and then jump in the truck, and start driving. And then, as you drive along, you can ruminate on how well the trailer is riding along back there, hardly pulling at all, and you hardly feel the trailer, and how clever you are, as you jam another handful of sugary treats into your hungry piehole.
Until you figure it out: the boat, the trailer, all of your work, your home for the next several months, your most valuable possession, your EVERYTHING, is coasting along with just the receiver SITTING ON TOP OF the trailer ball. TOTALLY DISCONNECTED, just balancing there precariously, fortunately, until you hit a bump, a turn, or run over a pebble, or the wind blows. And then the comedic moment when I realize I'm racing down the road like this, and totally crap my pants (figuratively, my friend, figuratively). The only thing more hilarious than the blood curdling scream of a little girl that I made might be the look on my face if the boat sailed past me (so to speak) in the passing lane. So anyway, to sum it up, I pulled over, supercautious and all, and managed to completely stop without ditching the boat. As Yoda once said, "SUPER SCARY THAT WAS." I am an extremely lucky person. Maybe a bit daft. Let's see how I do on this trip overall, and I'll let you be the judge. I promise to document as accurately as my pride will allow. Kirk out.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
The trip down
October 24
Okay, where should I start? After spending several days in Michigan saying our goodbyes, we finally hit the road on October 23, yesterday at noon or so. I drove for a while, because I'm a control freak, and it was raining, and the only thing that makes me more nervous than pulling trailers is when someone else is driving.So we went straight for 600 miles or so, at about 45 mph in the rain, through the mountains and whatnot. Around 5:30 in the morning, I hear: BOOM! Clickity clackity clickity clickety whatever. I stop, get out, check, no visible probm
Intermission: I'll be right back.
Okay. I'm back. We're in Tennessee, and just stopped because there were two dogs by the side of the expressway, trapped, with no where to go but out through 80mph traffic, walled in by cement for a mile or more in either direction. We couldn't catch 'em. I think they found a way out. Whew. Okay.
ANYway. So long story shorter, no problems with the tire. Get back on, and the trailer feelslike it's swaying hard. I decide to pull over, but before I can, I HEAR the tire go. So now we do pull over. Left back on the truck, best possible one, we agree. We go to pull the spare, and find the tools are gone. Apparently someone I loaned my truck to in New Orleans had a flat that they never told me about. And didn't replace my tools. So using a screwdriver, a 5 inch long metal bar, we remove the spare from underneath and jack the truck with great difficulty. But can't remove the lugs. If only the 90 foot tall crucifix looming on the next hill were a four way lug wrench. So we walk. We ask a guy at the stop sign at the next exit if he has a wrench. One thing leads to another. This guy, apparently, is the owner of HTH grain processing. This is a company that processes 500 BIILLION dollars worth of grain a DAY. We found this hard to believe. His friend pulls over and they're both on the way to the plant. Keith Bruzzell (owner) tells John (psycho) that he should take us to the plant and give us any tools we need. Sweet. On the way there, John tells us that he is a safety officer because he sometimes gets to save a life to try to "pay back." He elaborates that he's an exmarine and he was responsible for a lot of killing. And "we did some things we shouldn't have done." Interesting guy. Since he's the one who supplied the "500 billion" figure" we take it with a pound of salt.
We go to the plant, get security clearance, and enter. While we are there, John fires two guys for smoking cigarettes on the company grounds. It's a homeleand security risk, we come to find out, and the whole place is highly explosive. No cell phones, no smoking. A real nice guy named Tommy is assigned to return us to the vehicle. And on his way, stops to pick up another fourway lugwrench in case the one way 13/16" is the wrong size. ( I brought a matching socket to make sure, and verified it, but he still wanted to). Tommy confirms the 500 BILLION A DAY number. Weird to hear that from two guys, something that sounds so far fetched. We go to the truck, 25 miles or more total driving, and he offers us his wrench to keep. This guy is a sweet old grampa. Then the Sherriff shows up. Man, people here are HELPFUL. Crazy. Apparently, Detroit is another world to them. We put the spare on. It's so soft, it's flat. SHEISSE!
We limp along.Go buy a wrench, a new tire for $20 (supposedly used, but wasn't) and saved about $130. The old tire looks like it has a shark bite out of it. A huge hole the size of my fist removed from the sidewall. Still don't know what I hit. Maybe a landmine.
Get some Long John Silvers, walk the dogs, sleep for four hours, and back on the road. I'm having flashbacks of the time I drove 38 hours straight to New Orleans, after having 1 flat, 1 wiring problem that stopped us, and a blown shock, and getting hit by one FEMA rescue truck that was lost because all the signs were blown away by Katrina. He bought me off for $500 bucks, then offered to sell me coke and deal to anyone I could connect with once down in New Orleans. I declined. That's why I'm still broke, and still not in jail.
As of /25 hours later, we are halfway there. But we're closer than we were.
Okay, where should I start? After spending several days in Michigan saying our goodbyes, we finally hit the road on October 23, yesterday at noon or so. I drove for a while, because I'm a control freak, and it was raining, and the only thing that makes me more nervous than pulling trailers is when someone else is driving.So we went straight for 600 miles or so, at about 45 mph in the rain, through the mountains and whatnot. Around 5:30 in the morning, I hear: BOOM! Clickity clackity clickity clickety whatever. I stop, get out, check, no visible probm
Intermission: I'll be right back.
Okay. I'm back. We're in Tennessee, and just stopped because there were two dogs by the side of the expressway, trapped, with no where to go but out through 80mph traffic, walled in by cement for a mile or more in either direction. We couldn't catch 'em. I think they found a way out. Whew. Okay.
ANYway. So long story shorter, no problems with the tire. Get back on, and the trailer feelslike it's swaying hard. I decide to pull over, but before I can, I HEAR the tire go. So now we do pull over. Left back on the truck, best possible one, we agree. We go to pull the spare, and find the tools are gone. Apparently someone I loaned my truck to in New Orleans had a flat that they never told me about. And didn't replace my tools. So using a screwdriver, a 5 inch long metal bar, we remove the spare from underneath and jack the truck with great difficulty. But can't remove the lugs. If only the 90 foot tall crucifix looming on the next hill were a four way lug wrench. So we walk. We ask a guy at the stop sign at the next exit if he has a wrench. One thing leads to another. This guy, apparently, is the owner of HTH grain processing. This is a company that processes 500 BIILLION dollars worth of grain a DAY. We found this hard to believe. His friend pulls over and they're both on the way to the plant. Keith Bruzzell (owner) tells John (psycho) that he should take us to the plant and give us any tools we need. Sweet. On the way there, John tells us that he is a safety officer because he sometimes gets to save a life to try to "pay back." He elaborates that he's an exmarine and he was responsible for a lot of killing. And "we did some things we shouldn't have done." Interesting guy. Since he's the one who supplied the "500 billion" figure" we take it with a pound of salt.
We go to the plant, get security clearance, and enter. While we are there, John fires two guys for smoking cigarettes on the company grounds. It's a homeleand security risk, we come to find out, and the whole place is highly explosive. No cell phones, no smoking. A real nice guy named Tommy is assigned to return us to the vehicle. And on his way, stops to pick up another fourway lugwrench in case the one way 13/16" is the wrong size. ( I brought a matching socket to make sure, and verified it, but he still wanted to). Tommy confirms the 500 BILLION A DAY number. Weird to hear that from two guys, something that sounds so far fetched. We go to the truck, 25 miles or more total driving, and he offers us his wrench to keep. This guy is a sweet old grampa. Then the Sherriff shows up. Man, people here are HELPFUL. Crazy. Apparently, Detroit is another world to them. We put the spare on. It's so soft, it's flat. SHEISSE!
We limp along.Go buy a wrench, a new tire for $20 (supposedly used, but wasn't) and saved about $130. The old tire looks like it has a shark bite out of it. A huge hole the size of my fist removed from the sidewall. Still don't know what I hit. Maybe a landmine.
Get some Long John Silvers, walk the dogs, sleep for four hours, and back on the road. I'm having flashbacks of the time I drove 38 hours straight to New Orleans, after having 1 flat, 1 wiring problem that stopped us, and a blown shock, and getting hit by one FEMA rescue truck that was lost because all the signs were blown away by Katrina. He bought me off for $500 bucks, then offered to sell me coke and deal to anyone I could connect with once down in New Orleans. I declined. That's why I'm still broke, and still not in jail.
As of /25 hours later, we are halfway there. But we're closer than we were.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
FIRST BLOGGY BLOG/BACKGROUND
August something or other. First Blog entry by Jack, or John, or whatever the hell you know me as:
Okay, here I go. I'm going to write really frankly, as is my way of thinking. If a bad word offends you, or my thoughts usually do, do us both a favor and stop now and go check out the latest "Family Circus." I hear that Jeffy's been up to the devil's bidness, it's supposed to be a good one. Anyway, I swear when I talk. That's just how I speak.
Anyway, this is the first entry into our excursions on FIBERGLASS VENGEANCE, our 25 foot sailboat. I will try to do this right this time, unlike the diary I never started. I never started a diary, back when I was about 16, when shit started to really get hectic and exciting in my world, because I figured the most interesting part was probably done, and I'm a bit of a completist. And I figured that I couldn't do the first half justice with my vague memory, and so could never bring myself to get started, except about 3 entries in a blog in New Orleans after the hurricane. But then, when it was really exciting, and there was wind from helicopters on my neck, and the smell of dead things was everywhere, I didn't have a pen. Or the time to be writing.
So when there's something really awesome or weird, I never write about it.
A little background here: I've spent the summer trying to get the boat ready for whatever adventures are ahead. Trying to anticipate how much water, electricity, wind, anchor line, and liquor will be needed. Which firearm, if any, should we bring in the event of piracy. Can we go to Cuba? etc. A lot of research, measuring, figuring, planning, plotting, guessing, asking.
So one big thing we figured out was that our motor would be inadequate. Even though the one we had was stock size (8 horsepower) and the max recommended for our boat is 10, we searched around and tried to wring our hands till we could decide if more was better. We decided it was. It's a safety issue. If you're in huge waves, like 10 feet, it's like driving your boat up a big hill. And if your motor won't push you up it, you slide backward, then sideways, and then the waves crash over the boat, flooding your boat, then it's unsteady. Then it goes lower in the water, is unmanageable, and then the next wave rolls it upside down. Basically what probably happened to the Andrea Gail in "The Perfect Storm." So we looked. For a month or so. All over the country online, and called dealerships. We needed a 2 stroke (the 4 strokes are too heavy for our boat), 15-25 h.p., longshaft (so the prop is not out of the water on a 6 foot wave), relatively new (within 20 years, so it doesn't fail us at a critical moment, like in a hurricane, or the Gulf Stream in 15 foot seas), tiller handle (we don't have a spot for a steering wheel, used (new is like 4500. Yes, dollars. As much as the boat cost, in other words), with electric start (that means it also has an alternator, which we need, since we're selling our generator to help afford it). Oh, and local is better, so we can try before we buy, and throw it through the seller's front picture window if it turns out to be bogus. Anyway, we searched. At least 4 times, we gave up and settled on 3/4 of the above criteria being met. And something thwarted us. And so we searched. And kept giving up.
And so the day before our anniversary of August 26th,we found one. In Monroe Michigan. Two stroke. 25hp. Electric start. Tiller. And it's a 2005. They say they'll take $1600 (outrageously cheap) if we pay cash TONIGHT.
We jumped in the car. Driving out of town, 5 minutes into the trip, we pass an accident. We slow down. A deer and a car. And two more cars. The deer is on the road, the people standing around. I get out and ask if anyone is hurt. I talk to a lady who just totaled her car in a 45 mph headon, who is fine, but is upset. She just bought the car a few hours ago. New. Everyone's fine. The deer landed square on the windshield of the first car. The guy beats me to my question, and offers it to me. I go to load it in, and the cops tell me they're writing me a permit. Then they tell me there's a warrant for my arrest, for an unpaid ticket from Kalamazoo for being in the park after dusk. And I'm driving on a suspended license, because the State of Michigan wants $300 to reinstate my license after it was suspended for an Ohio speeding ticket, even though I skipped them and got a new, valid one in Louisiana.
"Doesn't matter. Michigan wants their money, to reinstate your license. Even though you have one. Because if you get caught driving in Michigan, even with a valid license from Louisiana, since my Michigan one is suspended, you'll go to jail for 90 days. And thousands in legal bills." All this per the cop. I say okay, Ruth will drive. Okay, he tells me.
I pick up Bambi's dad, who is basically dead, but appears edible, and load all 150 or so of his dead pounds into my truck. Now I have blood all over me. We drive home. We dump the deer into the huge 6 foot2.5 x 4 foot deep freezer, that works awesome, that I just HAPPENED to find FREE by the side of the road a month before, and head back out.
Ruth's driving now, at least till south of town. We race down, buy the engine, and head back. We'll be driving to 3 or 4 am. But it's worth it. At midnight, Ruth's phone alarm goes off, playing "what I like about you," by the Romantics. One of the songs that played during our wedding, on the happiest day of my life. At 12:01, we're making out in the Speedway parking lot somewhere outside of Mancelona, or Standish, or Munising. It doesn't matter where we are. We go home and eat cake together from our original wedding cake that's been in the freezer a year. It's just as good as it was then. Not before being pulled over, with me at the wheel, being told I have a warrant, and that I'm driving on a suspended license (I don't want Ruth to drive, she has a sprained ankle). And it's in the exact same place we got a speeding ticket on the way to our honeymoon after our wedding. But he lets me go. No jail for me. Not tonight.
I have the word "LUCKY" tattooed on my right forearm about 8 inches long. It's not because I'm good at cards. It's not because I talked myself out of going to jail. It's because I have an 25hp outboard in the bed of the truck. That was a STEAL. It looks like new.
And a deer in the freezer.
I hold my breath to see how long I can do it. I make a record at three minutes even.
All my houses in Detroit have been repossessed.
I have no job. We're almost out of money. And we're set to leave in 63 days.
We have a house in New Orleans that is 3/4 paid for. And provides a modest (most would say meager) income that we are going to try to live on long enough to have more fun than we deserve.
But we have XM radio, playing the Circle Jerks.
I have my health. And a fridge with a box full of wedding cake.
The dogs are asleep in back. Good travelers, whimpering in their sleep, and half barking. Dreaming of glorious chases, fields, and elk.
And Ruth's back in the driver seat.
I have LUCKY tattooed on my arm because all is well.
It's because of my family, my friends, my wife, my dogs. I'm just lucky, there's all there is to it.
The headlights from the rare passing cars illuminate moving squares of the inside of the truck across the seats, the dash, her face, as she drives us home. I'm just lucky.
All is well.
So anyway. Here I go again. Trying to start again, because unlike the diary I never started at 16, I know the most interesting part has yet to come. I just took a shower, after gutting, skinning, and quartering the deer, and throwing it back in the freezer. Ruth made lasagna, and we watched Sicko on DVD. And I'm the happiest guy in the world. And the best is yet to come.
Kirk out.
Sept. 7
Getting ready as always. We've made a drogue, that may double as a sea anchor in a gale. We've decided to hold onto the generator and not sell the Suzuki for less than $750, since we know that they're both awesomely reliable. That means we're light on funds, but little else to buy. We bought a new sail that we can reef (run at half size, in case there's too much wind), we have a fridge, solar panels, a water tap to pump fresh water from below, a radio, a depth/fishfinder, VHF radio (for emergencies, and coming into harbors), and many, many little additions. Now we need to get some more sailing in, and maybe, who knows, earn a bit of money. We plan to sail up to Beaver Island on northern Lake Michigan in a few days. That should be fun. We just have to drop the mast (how Ruth almost lost her finger, last time), tow the boat over a couple of miles, drop it back in the water and put the mast up and sail outta there. The dogs will enjoy that. Then back to Torch, then down to Kalamazoo to see the peeps, hit up my 87th college class reunion, and then get really ready to jet. The idea at the moment is to leave in midOctober, drive to New Orleans, sail outta there 669 miles to Miami, meet up with this guy James, and sail across with him in his boat to the Bahamas. We'll return in the spring, sell our house in New Orleans, and then come back up here. So now, I have a suspended driver's license, creditors calling me hourly, and a warrant out for my arrest. Yep, seems like a good time to hit the road. I think John Goodman, playing the character of Walter Sopjek, in "The Big Lebowski" summed it up best when he said: "Fuck it Dude. Let's go bowling."
SEPTEMBER Something or other, 2007
CRAZY storm the other night. Ruth and I stayed below deck and watched "The Perfect Storm" while the wind tore everything all up. It's the strongest I've ever felt, it was about 45 mph. That's movin'. 18mph is when the telephone wires whistle. That marina, and all those boats, with all those stays, shrouds, lines and wires were SINGIN', believe me. They told people don't drive, your car will be blown off the road on the radio. Not off the road and then onto the radio, but the people on the radio said don't drive.
It ripped the jib all up, about 8 feet of rip, and we were lucky to get the bastard lashed down again. I thought I should have wrapped it tighter when that storm came. I was right, it turns out.
OCTOBER 11, 2007
Visited the pigs in Kalamazoo, as well as our friends. Went to a bitchin' party for Nathan's 40th anniversary, my 15 year class reunion, and paid the ticket for the park nonsense, as well as for the warrant for our arrest. We paid the $75.00 fine all in pennies. They really loved that, tha bastards.
The class reunion was cool. It was cool to see some of these people that I hadn't seen in a long time, but missed 2 of the 3 most vital ones for me, and the third was Tom, and we stayed at his house. No one seemed afraid of a guy with a mohawk, so that was cool, unlike when I was in school. Or maybe it was that I was a jerk. Anyway, I was there with my dopeass wife, in a skirt and heels making all of 'em jealous, guys and girls. That was fun. And I played Ruth's music over the P.A. during dinner (it was at the Castle, so Laura asked me to do the music), and then bragged to people that I had gotten married there last year in the same room we were in, and the bride ran over to the drum kit and rocked the house still in her wedding dress. I hate to brag (well, no I don't, really...) but when you do things right, I don't mind letting on that I did. Like marry Ruth. And what we're about to do. People asked, of course, what I was up to. I told the truth. We finished our house in New Orleans, and since have been unemployed, in any gainful sense, and now we're going to be pirates. It's hard to tell someone you're going to live in the Bahamas for 6 months without them thinking you're super rich. They don't realize I bought this boat for $4800, and we're going to be mostly broke, eating oats and fish. I don't like to name numbers for people, but in this case I do, because I think otherwise their limited knowledge would make them think I'm some idle rich snot who's actually named Carleton or Archibald Winchester the III going sailing on my $40,000 yacht with my wife Hillary. Oh, well. They can think what they want, and curse my name while they're at it. I'm going fishin'.
OCTOBER 12, 2007
Jack: As long as we can get someone to watch the dogs. We've tried everyone we know, to no avail. We actually just had the conversation that we won't be going if we don't find people, and we have to make peace with that.
OCTOBER 13, 2007
Jack: I got a message from Eduardo that they'll watch the dogs. HURRAH.
OCTOBER 16, 2007
Jack: Okay, we leave here in a couple days. We have to get our work done, finish getting the boat ready, pack, pack food, hit the road, say our goodbyes all over Michigan, get the brakes done on the trailer, drive to Florida, launch the boat, drive to New Orleans to build a dog house and fence the yard, and then stay for Halloween (I think I'm going to be George Bush, maybe with some seriously bloody hands, maybe devouring an Iraqi infant, or maybe as a puppet for Dick Cheney, who has glowing red eyes and smells vaguely of sulfur? I'm getting ahead of myself...) before flying back to the boat on November 1st, the official first day after hurricane season. No Problem.
Okay, here I go. I'm going to write really frankly, as is my way of thinking. If a bad word offends you, or my thoughts usually do, do us both a favor and stop now and go check out the latest "Family Circus." I hear that Jeffy's been up to the devil's bidness, it's supposed to be a good one. Anyway, I swear when I talk. That's just how I speak.
Anyway, this is the first entry into our excursions on FIBERGLASS VENGEANCE, our 25 foot sailboat. I will try to do this right this time, unlike the diary I never started. I never started a diary, back when I was about 16, when shit started to really get hectic and exciting in my world, because I figured the most interesting part was probably done, and I'm a bit of a completist. And I figured that I couldn't do the first half justice with my vague memory, and so could never bring myself to get started, except about 3 entries in a blog in New Orleans after the hurricane. But then, when it was really exciting, and there was wind from helicopters on my neck, and the smell of dead things was everywhere, I didn't have a pen. Or the time to be writing.
So when there's something really awesome or weird, I never write about it.
A little background here: I've spent the summer trying to get the boat ready for whatever adventures are ahead. Trying to anticipate how much water, electricity, wind, anchor line, and liquor will be needed. Which firearm, if any, should we bring in the event of piracy. Can we go to Cuba? etc. A lot of research, measuring, figuring, planning, plotting, guessing, asking.
So one big thing we figured out was that our motor would be inadequate. Even though the one we had was stock size (8 horsepower) and the max recommended for our boat is 10, we searched around and tried to wring our hands till we could decide if more was better. We decided it was. It's a safety issue. If you're in huge waves, like 10 feet, it's like driving your boat up a big hill. And if your motor won't push you up it, you slide backward, then sideways, and then the waves crash over the boat, flooding your boat, then it's unsteady. Then it goes lower in the water, is unmanageable, and then the next wave rolls it upside down. Basically what probably happened to the Andrea Gail in "The Perfect Storm." So we looked. For a month or so. All over the country online, and called dealerships. We needed a 2 stroke (the 4 strokes are too heavy for our boat), 15-25 h.p., longshaft (so the prop is not out of the water on a 6 foot wave), relatively new (within 20 years, so it doesn't fail us at a critical moment, like in a hurricane, or the Gulf Stream in 15 foot seas), tiller handle (we don't have a spot for a steering wheel, used (new is like 4500. Yes, dollars. As much as the boat cost, in other words), with electric start (that means it also has an alternator, which we need, since we're selling our generator to help afford it). Oh, and local is better, so we can try before we buy, and throw it through the seller's front picture window if it turns out to be bogus. Anyway, we searched. At least 4 times, we gave up and settled on 3/4 of the above criteria being met. And something thwarted us. And so we searched. And kept giving up.
And so the day before our anniversary of August 26th,we found one. In Monroe Michigan. Two stroke. 25hp. Electric start. Tiller. And it's a 2005. They say they'll take $1600 (outrageously cheap) if we pay cash TONIGHT.
We jumped in the car. Driving out of town, 5 minutes into the trip, we pass an accident. We slow down. A deer and a car. And two more cars. The deer is on the road, the people standing around. I get out and ask if anyone is hurt. I talk to a lady who just totaled her car in a 45 mph headon, who is fine, but is upset. She just bought the car a few hours ago. New. Everyone's fine. The deer landed square on the windshield of the first car. The guy beats me to my question, and offers it to me. I go to load it in, and the cops tell me they're writing me a permit. Then they tell me there's a warrant for my arrest, for an unpaid ticket from Kalamazoo for being in the park after dusk. And I'm driving on a suspended license, because the State of Michigan wants $300 to reinstate my license after it was suspended for an Ohio speeding ticket, even though I skipped them and got a new, valid one in Louisiana.
"Doesn't matter. Michigan wants their money, to reinstate your license. Even though you have one. Because if you get caught driving in Michigan, even with a valid license from Louisiana, since my Michigan one is suspended, you'll go to jail for 90 days. And thousands in legal bills." All this per the cop. I say okay, Ruth will drive. Okay, he tells me.
I pick up Bambi's dad, who is basically dead, but appears edible, and load all 150 or so of his dead pounds into my truck. Now I have blood all over me. We drive home. We dump the deer into the huge 6 foot2.5 x 4 foot deep freezer, that works awesome, that I just HAPPENED to find FREE by the side of the road a month before, and head back out.
Ruth's driving now, at least till south of town. We race down, buy the engine, and head back. We'll be driving to 3 or 4 am. But it's worth it. At midnight, Ruth's phone alarm goes off, playing "what I like about you," by the Romantics. One of the songs that played during our wedding, on the happiest day of my life. At 12:01, we're making out in the Speedway parking lot somewhere outside of Mancelona, or Standish, or Munising. It doesn't matter where we are. We go home and eat cake together from our original wedding cake that's been in the freezer a year. It's just as good as it was then. Not before being pulled over, with me at the wheel, being told I have a warrant, and that I'm driving on a suspended license (I don't want Ruth to drive, she has a sprained ankle). And it's in the exact same place we got a speeding ticket on the way to our honeymoon after our wedding. But he lets me go. No jail for me. Not tonight.
I have the word "LUCKY" tattooed on my right forearm about 8 inches long. It's not because I'm good at cards. It's not because I talked myself out of going to jail. It's because I have an 25hp outboard in the bed of the truck. That was a STEAL. It looks like new.
And a deer in the freezer.
I hold my breath to see how long I can do it. I make a record at three minutes even.
All my houses in Detroit have been repossessed.
I have no job. We're almost out of money. And we're set to leave in 63 days.
We have a house in New Orleans that is 3/4 paid for. And provides a modest (most would say meager) income that we are going to try to live on long enough to have more fun than we deserve.
But we have XM radio, playing the Circle Jerks.
I have my health. And a fridge with a box full of wedding cake.
The dogs are asleep in back. Good travelers, whimpering in their sleep, and half barking. Dreaming of glorious chases, fields, and elk.
And Ruth's back in the driver seat.
I have LUCKY tattooed on my arm because all is well.
It's because of my family, my friends, my wife, my dogs. I'm just lucky, there's all there is to it.
The headlights from the rare passing cars illuminate moving squares of the inside of the truck across the seats, the dash, her face, as she drives us home. I'm just lucky.
All is well.
So anyway. Here I go again. Trying to start again, because unlike the diary I never started at 16, I know the most interesting part has yet to come. I just took a shower, after gutting, skinning, and quartering the deer, and throwing it back in the freezer. Ruth made lasagna, and we watched Sicko on DVD. And I'm the happiest guy in the world. And the best is yet to come.
Kirk out.
Sept. 7
Getting ready as always. We've made a drogue, that may double as a sea anchor in a gale. We've decided to hold onto the generator and not sell the Suzuki for less than $750, since we know that they're both awesomely reliable. That means we're light on funds, but little else to buy. We bought a new sail that we can reef (run at half size, in case there's too much wind), we have a fridge, solar panels, a water tap to pump fresh water from below, a radio, a depth/fishfinder, VHF radio (for emergencies, and coming into harbors), and many, many little additions. Now we need to get some more sailing in, and maybe, who knows, earn a bit of money. We plan to sail up to Beaver Island on northern Lake Michigan in a few days. That should be fun. We just have to drop the mast (how Ruth almost lost her finger, last time), tow the boat over a couple of miles, drop it back in the water and put the mast up and sail outta there. The dogs will enjoy that. Then back to Torch, then down to Kalamazoo to see the peeps, hit up my 87th college class reunion, and then get really ready to jet. The idea at the moment is to leave in midOctober, drive to New Orleans, sail outta there 669 miles to Miami, meet up with this guy James, and sail across with him in his boat to the Bahamas. We'll return in the spring, sell our house in New Orleans, and then come back up here. So now, I have a suspended driver's license, creditors calling me hourly, and a warrant out for my arrest. Yep, seems like a good time to hit the road. I think John Goodman, playing the character of Walter Sopjek, in "The Big Lebowski" summed it up best when he said: "Fuck it Dude. Let's go bowling."
SEPTEMBER Something or other, 2007
CRAZY storm the other night. Ruth and I stayed below deck and watched "The Perfect Storm" while the wind tore everything all up. It's the strongest I've ever felt, it was about 45 mph. That's movin'. 18mph is when the telephone wires whistle. That marina, and all those boats, with all those stays, shrouds, lines and wires were SINGIN', believe me. They told people don't drive, your car will be blown off the road on the radio. Not off the road and then onto the radio, but the people on the radio said don't drive.
It ripped the jib all up, about 8 feet of rip, and we were lucky to get the bastard lashed down again. I thought I should have wrapped it tighter when that storm came. I was right, it turns out.
OCTOBER 11, 2007
Visited the pigs in Kalamazoo, as well as our friends. Went to a bitchin' party for Nathan's 40th anniversary, my 15 year class reunion, and paid the ticket for the park nonsense, as well as for the warrant for our arrest. We paid the $75.00 fine all in pennies. They really loved that, tha bastards.
The class reunion was cool. It was cool to see some of these people that I hadn't seen in a long time, but missed 2 of the 3 most vital ones for me, and the third was Tom, and we stayed at his house. No one seemed afraid of a guy with a mohawk, so that was cool, unlike when I was in school. Or maybe it was that I was a jerk. Anyway, I was there with my dopeass wife, in a skirt and heels making all of 'em jealous, guys and girls. That was fun. And I played Ruth's music over the P.A. during dinner (it was at the Castle, so Laura asked me to do the music), and then bragged to people that I had gotten married there last year in the same room we were in, and the bride ran over to the drum kit and rocked the house still in her wedding dress. I hate to brag (well, no I don't, really...) but when you do things right, I don't mind letting on that I did. Like marry Ruth. And what we're about to do. People asked, of course, what I was up to. I told the truth. We finished our house in New Orleans, and since have been unemployed, in any gainful sense, and now we're going to be pirates. It's hard to tell someone you're going to live in the Bahamas for 6 months without them thinking you're super rich. They don't realize I bought this boat for $4800, and we're going to be mostly broke, eating oats and fish. I don't like to name numbers for people, but in this case I do, because I think otherwise their limited knowledge would make them think I'm some idle rich snot who's actually named Carleton or Archibald Winchester the III going sailing on my $40,000 yacht with my wife Hillary. Oh, well. They can think what they want, and curse my name while they're at it. I'm going fishin'.
OCTOBER 12, 2007
Jack: As long as we can get someone to watch the dogs. We've tried everyone we know, to no avail. We actually just had the conversation that we won't be going if we don't find people, and we have to make peace with that.
OCTOBER 13, 2007
Jack: I got a message from Eduardo that they'll watch the dogs. HURRAH.
OCTOBER 16, 2007
Jack: Okay, we leave here in a couple days. We have to get our work done, finish getting the boat ready, pack, pack food, hit the road, say our goodbyes all over Michigan, get the brakes done on the trailer, drive to Florida, launch the boat, drive to New Orleans to build a dog house and fence the yard, and then stay for Halloween (I think I'm going to be George Bush, maybe with some seriously bloody hands, maybe devouring an Iraqi infant, or maybe as a puppet for Dick Cheney, who has glowing red eyes and smells vaguely of sulfur? I'm getting ahead of myself...) before flying back to the boat on November 1st, the official first day after hurricane season. No Problem.
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