Ruth's Bloggy Bloggity Blog -
MONDAY NIGHT(April 14th) /EARLY TUESDAY MORNING (April 15th): HARBOR
ISLAND
I left off at my "what could be better?" blog that described the most
wonderful day ever, spent swimming and snorkeling at the "pink sand"
beach at Harbor Island. It was an extraordinary day and we enjoyed a
relaxing evening eating Grouper fillets and enjoying the sunset. We
fell asleep soundly in each other's arms. All was well.
Until…
We awoke simultaneously to the howling of the wind. Based on the sound
I figured it was blowing at about 25 mph with 30-35 mph gusts. This
was extreme! The boat started rocking back and forth almost
immediately after the wind began howling. The front had approached,
and it didn't take long for the wind to awaken the seas. It all
happened so suddenly. (This was why we had decided to anchor at
Harbor Island in the first place).
Soon after awakening we began to hear the trickling of rain. Being
familiar with this sudden approach of the weather, we assumed a
downpour would quickly follow. Using clothing pins, we pinned one of
our tablecloths underneath the area of the cover top that leaks when
it pours. (We used this system earlier in the week during strong
winds and rain, as well as other times throughout the trip). Without
communicating, we broke into action! I love having our systems down!
Jack stepped outside and started lowering the engine. I felt relieved
for this, for I was thinking the same thing – strong winds could
cause
our anchor to drag in which it would be handy to have the engine
lowered and ready to go. He encouraged me to step outside to
experience these crazy winds. They were loud and strong, blowing
harder by the second! No sooner did I poke my drowsy head out, taking
one stumbling step outside with my sleepy foot, did Jack firmly yet
urgently state "We're dragging anchor."
BOOM! I spun my head toward the front of the boat. BOOM! BOOM! I
witnessed the bow slam HARD twice into the back end of a tall, 22 ft
unoccupied fishing boat carrying two 50 HP engines on its stern! My
mind raced - Did we hit the boat or did we hit the engines? NO TIME TO
THINK. TAKE ACTION.
Jack raced to the front of the boat to pull up the anchor as I
drowsily took seat at the engine, stepping into a big pot of soapy
water on the way! I almost laughed at myself. I pushed the
water-filled pot out of the way, and with soaking foot, blurry eyes,
and dreamy perception I started the engine and waited for Jack's
signal to pull out. Our bow was SO CLOSE to the fishing boat! I was
SURE we were going to knock into it again! As Jack pulled up the
anchor, I concentrated on steering our boat away from the fishing boat
while at the same time keeping us oriented enough so that Jack could
easily pull up the anchor. I was COMPLETELY disoriented! Because a) I
was half asleep, b) the chaos was startling, c) during the night the
wind had spun our boat around and was now facing the opposite
direction than when we had fallen asleep and d) I wasn't wearing my
contacts – therefore everything was dark and fuzzy, all shadows
blended to create black holes, an absurdly incomplete picture!
As I'm steering, waiting, watching wide-eyed, Jack calls out behind
him to me that the anchor is caught in the fishing boat's line! All I
could do was keep us pointed away from the fishing boat yet make sure
I wasn't cranking the gas so that Jack could work on freeing our
anchor from its line. Madness.
After an agonizing wait (which probably took less time than it felt)
Jack calls out "We're Free!" and I crank up the juice and turn the
boat HARD to port (which is where Jack directed me to turn – I
honestly had NO sense of direction at this point!) I turn sharply into
thhe darkness, trusting Jack's command, not knowing myself if I was
turning straight toward shore or into another boat!
We made a mad dash across the bay. Even though the wind had JUST
picked up, the waves were a few feet high, steep and choppy! I could
barely see, and might as well have had my eyes closed! I realized
eventually that the wind was coming from the northwest, but actually
knew my sense of direction based on the sound of the wind on either
side of my head blowing loudly passed my ears and based on the
bouncing of the boat over the oncoming waves. My midnight adrenaline
was high.
As if things weren't chaotic enough, a few hundred feet out the engine
slowed and came to a stop! I recognized the sound as the engine being
out of gas!!! As soon as we came to a stop, the wind began pushing the
boat backwards FAST – towards shore, towards the crowded anchorage
full of thirty or more fishing boats and lines! We were moving at a
RAPID pace. I could make out the lights of the shore growing bigger in
my hazy vision.
Jack acted quickly: he jumped up to the bow and threw out the anchor
–
only to realize that the anchor was dragging as fast as the boat was
moving backwards! Meanwhile I somehow conjured up this super human
force unbeknownst to me to yank up the 6 gallon gas container from the
hull, lift high it high into the air, and direct the downspout
perfectly into the gas tank, and pour with ease and control despite
the immense swaying of the boat under the force of winds and waves. My
focus couldn't have been broken by anything in the world. There was no
time to panic, not a moment to even think. I was a unwavering orb of
pure concentration.
During this time, Jack realized he had let the bridle line dangle over
the side of the boat during the night and came back to the cockpit as
I was pouring worried that the engine was not, in fact, out of gas but
that the line was caught in the propeller! I was convinced that the
sound of the engine dying meant it was losing gas (this has happened
so ridiculously often during this trip at the most inopportune times!)
Thank goodness I had guessed correctly! I stayed bow into the wind and
waves (using all my senses but sight) while J pulled the anchor and
bridle line in! He then lowered the solar panels (otherwise the panels
would flip over with hard force onto the deck!) All of this happened
so fast it felt like a dream! Jack encouraged me to start driving
toward the lights on the other side of the bay but I INSISTED staying
bow into the waves while he was on the deck! If, God forbid, he had
fallen in it would have been quite impossible to find him in the dark
or hear him over the sound of the wind! (He graciously thanked me
later for taking this precaution).
When Jack returned to the rear of the boat he grabbed the chart and
GPS. I was so glad that he did, otherwise I would have driven us
straight into a group of small islands on the other side of the bay!
Using the chart and the GPS J made a waypoint for a small hook on the
west side of the bay (perfect protection for these NW/N winds). The
destination was three miles away. Let me rephrase: three miles of
hell! Haha! Talk about the longest three miles of MY LIFE! I mean, the
situation could have been much worse, but the situation was insanely
stressful, all of these catastrophes happening consecutively, SO FAST.
The experience was overwhelming, but knowing that refuge was coming
soon felt good. I didn't drive too fast or else the boat would have
slammed hard into the steep waves causing much spray off the sides and
over the bow possibly into the boat. We kept onward (Onward Hayward
that is…)
The entire set of circumstances occurred from 4:30 to 6:30 AM! When we
made it to the other side of the bay, the sun had started to rise. We
settled in six feet of water using the depth sounder. It was EXTREMELY
calm on that side of the bay! I could hear the wind howling around the
island but could barely feel it! I hugged Jack like a mad woman! I
felt so great that we had worked so well as a team! I felt so lucky
that he always knows what to do and is quick to act! His resolve
always makes my job easier, helps me to focus more intently on my
particular task at hand. We deservingly slept until 4PM the next day!
TUESDAY, APRIL 15TH
So we slept in. I fried plantains, smeared them in butter and poured
melted chocolate over them. We sprinkled them with Grape Nuts and
devoured the delectable treat for our afternoon breakfast! The wind
was still blowing steady and hard outside, though our new anchorage
was calm and peaceful. We experienced the occasional rain shower. It
was the chilliest day I've ever experienced in the Bahamas! The chill
reminded me of a Michigan winter! Thus, we proceeded to have a movie
marathon! Jack cleverly sliced the wires of the PC adapter so that he
could run them directly to the battery, thus making for low power
usage. Yay! The most activity I did that day was step out to the deck
and stretch in the chill air. Thankfully the cabin of the boat was, as
always, super warm from our body heat! Yay for lazy cold front days!
WEDNESDAY, ApRil 16th
Today the front was still passing through but had died down
significantly enough for us to consider moving to the other side of
the harbor and spend some more time on Harbor Island. We found a
shipwreck on the chart and planned on snorkeling/SCUBA diving it!
Unfortunately the wreck was not where the chart had said it would be.
(The chart is from 2005 and the wreck had probably been cleared. It
was charted as laying on a submarine cable and we could see the spot
on the bottom where it had once sat). Soooo that was a bust, but we
didn't let it destroy our adventurous mood. We took the boat back to
our old anchorage near Harbor Island, but made sure to drop anchor a
clever distance away from the fishing boat we had knocked into the
other night.
We rowed in, the wind at our backs. We decided we'd deal with how to
make it back to the boat against the strong winds later….We walked
around, taking pictures. We sought out Cash's Liquor Store to take its
picture. We looked for the dead chicken in the road, but it had been
cleared away just like the shipwreck. The blood stains were still in
the road, however. Yum.
We went back to pinkish sandy beach on the ocean side. Yay Ocean!
Jack snagged a couple of resort beach chairs under a thatch hut! I
swam! There was one really forceful crashing wave at the shore that no
one else who was swimming could make it past! People were enjoying
themselves on boogie boards, letting the big wave push them 50 feet or
so back to shore. I tried to push past the big wave, but no success
whatsoever! Twice the force of the wave took my bathing suit top off,
once it actually pushed me under for the longest underwater ride of my
life, and once it actually tripped me up and dragged my ass along the
bottom, peeling my bathing suit bottoms off! I gave up eventually and
joined Jack, who was reading in his beach chair. I let the sun dry me
off as I relaxed and read Howard Zinn's "A People's History of the
United States." Good book. We read together for a good while then left
to look for food.
On our way to find a restaurant, we realized we had left our dinghy on
the beach during low tide – now it was high tide, meaning the water
had most likely swept it away! Somehow we didn't rush to get back to
find it though, assuming that a kind soul would have seen it and saved
it for us. We are so spoiled by everyone's kindness! Luckily enough,
when we got back to where we had left it, we found that someone had
lifted it off the beach onto the seawall to protect it from the tide.
Yay!
We happily ate dinner at Angela's Starfish Restaurant where we enjoyed
a Conch Salad, Fish Burgers, and a few Kalicks. Let the good times
roll! Upon coming back to the dinghy, we discovered the items we had
left in it – a $20 five gallon water jug and the foot pump that we
need to fill it with air twice a day – was gone! I couldn't believe
someone had lifted it! I guess it was a trade-off for having our
dinghy saved from the tide, but we were super disappointed because it
is extremely hard to row without any air in its two sides!
Surprise update: the next day we found out that a local had taken the
items out of our dinghy for fear that someone else would steal them.
Not bad that our only "theft" experience in the Bahamas is someone
taking our things in order to keep them safe. Although we spent two
days trying to locate this guy, we never ended up finding him and so
had to leave before getting these items back. Kind of an
inconvenience, but at least the guy meant well and at least we lost
these items at the end of our trip rather than the beginning.
Ruth's Blog: INTRACOASTAL DELIGHTS
WEDNESDAY, April 30th
6PM
Today, when Jack and I were planning the rest of our journey across
Florida, this question was posed: What day is it? "Tuesday?" I
guessed, while at the same time Jack said, "Saturday?" Haha! It's a
pretty wonderful thing to be living your life based on your own clock,
your own personal perception of time. We've been living without an
alarm clock for months and I automatically open my eyes about an hour
after sunrise. My ability to guess the time of day based on how high
the sun is in the sky is very much spot on.
We are currently cruising down the St. Lucie canal, towards
Indiantown. Our final destination for tonight will be Port Mayaca
where we will anchor till morning when the Lockmaster arrives to
operate the Port Mayaca Lock, which will bring us into Lake
Okeechobee. This morning I awoke around 7:30. Agreeing last night
that I would get us going in the morning, I started the motor, pulled
anchor and continued down part of the Intracoastal Waterway while Jack
slept in. When I came upon a drawbridge I radioed the bridge operator
on channel 9 (standard for all bridges) and he stopped traffic and
raised the bridge for me, waving and honking his horn loudly as I
rolled through. The air was fresh, the scenery beautiful. Everyone who
passed me this morning waved and smiled. I dropped a fishing line in
the water and let it drag behind me. Then I adjusted the solar panels
for maximum sun efficiency. I drank a red bull. I was feeling alive!
Jack awoke and after we shared a couple plums and granola bars, he
started working on re-connecting some wires in the battery compartment
that had gotten knocked out of place due to some turbulent waves
during our Gulf Stream Crossing. I drove us to the fork at St. Lucie
Inlet, passing different sounds and islands along the way. I saw a
number of different birds: ducks, hawks, falcons, egrets, white and
blue cranes, and – my favorite – pelicans! The pelicans would often
fly two at a time in perfect synchronicity! I'd like to look up the
reason why they do. At the fork I turned south to take the St. Lucie
River.
We drove through a couple large bays where there were many houses and
other developments, boat workshops, anchorages, and marinas amidst the
natural scenery. There was minor boat traffic, many markers, and a
number of tall bridges that were all passable, except two: a railroad
bridge immediately followed by a drawbridge. We had to wait about five
minutes for a train to pass before these bridges could open. The wind
was on the stronger side, coming from the north, and it took some
focus to keep the boat steady and out of the way of the four other
power boats that were waiting also. While I was keeping the boat
steady, Jack spotted about six dolphins right at the passageway
entrance in front of the bridge! They were doing their "dolphin swim"
(porpoise-ing?) and they swam right beside our boat! Jack took a video
of it! One dolphin actually blew air through its blowhole, spouting
out water! I can still hear, in my head, the sound that it made!
We turned down a channel that no other boat was taking. This was the
St. Lucie Canal. Here it was much narrower, quiet, lush, and swampy!
We were essentially cruising down the backwaters and "bywaters" of
Florida (and still are as I type this). The scenery is gorgeous! As
Jack put it, it reminded us of the type of canal where Huck Finn would
ride his raft. The canal is lined with moss-hung wilderness:
astonishingly beautiful pines, palms, and mangroves. Here I saw many
birds close up! I could see every detail of the falcons (or hawks) and
one even flew right around the boat! I kept my eye out for manatees
and alligators, which I read lived in all the canals we're taking
along this trip. I didn't see any, but I saw many jumping fish! Many,
many, many non-stop jumping fish! One fish would literally jump six or
seven times in a row! They were blue with white bellies, slick and
beautiful!
When we arrived at the St. Lucie Lock it was around noon but they
didn't operate until 3pm, so we anchored and enjoyed this WONDERFUL
CHILI Jack made along the way! He poured it over rice and topped it
with Cool Ranch Doritos. Hell yeah! I saw a raccoon creeping among the
mangroves, pawing at the water for food. The fish never stopped
jumping, so we threw out three lines and baited the hooks with conch
parts that Jack received from a man he met at the Bluewater Marina in
Bimini who had been cleaning his conch out at the fish-cleaning table.
We had been keeping it in the fridge so it was still very much fresh.
Only about ten minutes had passed when I heard the reel from Jack's
fishing pole, which he had set down, start to turn! I ran over to it
on the deck and started reeling it in! There was definitely something
on the other end! Jack came up and I let him take over since he had
baited the line. The fishing line had wrapped around the anchor line,
so when the fish was at the surface I un-looped it so that Jack could
bring the beast in. It was a Cat Fish! Jack guessed it was about 18
inches long! The only image in my head that I have of a Cat Fish is
this cartoon drawing that was on a deck of "Go Fish" playing cards we
used to play when I was younger. I can still picture it today – and
the illustration was amazingly accurate!
SOOOOOO we are having Cat Fish for dinner! Wheeeee!!!!!
We spent the next few hours doing this and that. We didn't catch any
more fish. Jack put up a hammock over our table using the old netting
from Gavin and Michelle's catamaran (we met them our first time in
Nassau). I read a bit from this guide book we bought in West Palm
Beach of the waterways of Florida and the Gulf Coast.
Three of the clock rolled around and we entered the lock with another
sailboat and a trawler. We were the last boat in. We parked against
the wall on our port side and the Lockmaster threw us a line at our
bow and at our stern. Jack held the stern line and I the bow while the
great big doors closed behind us "trapping us like rats" as Jack said.
"That's what YOU think…" he then replied to himself… Haha!
Our engine actually died on our way toward the lock, which is why we
were last in line, even though we had arrived at the lock first. There
was only room for about three boats in there. Our engine died because
the choke had been pulled out and the gas line twisted while we were
attempting to retrieve our bag of conch bait that had blown into the
water earlier. With Jack at the bow letting out line and me on the
engine maneuvering us toward the bag by switching between reverse and
forward, putting it hard to one side or the other, he finally managed
to snag it using his fishing pole.
The captain of the other sailboat, who was first in line, was having
trouble keeping his boat from knocking into the walls of the lock.
This guy had been surly to the Lockmaster over the radio earlier and
then had rushed ahead of us while we were trying to get into the lock
with our dead engine (our trouble was quite obvious), which we thought
was rude. This is mean, but we secretly felt that he was getting his.
It must be so difficult running a sailboat by yourself though! I can't
imagine a crew of less than two. Anyway, the lock then filled with
about ten feet or so of water. It took roughly ten minutes until we
were released to the other side. It was fun! A new experience!
As of now we are continuing our path down the St. Lucie Canal and
will end up anchoring at Port Mayaca tonight. Jack is now driving and
playing his clarinet. I am going to return outside to enjoy the beauty
of the southern Florida swamps! Yay!
Tuesday. It’s tomorrow now. I don’t know the date, 2008. By Jack
We crossed the Gulf Stream last night, as you by now already know. (I know how you people talk…! Just kidding. I’m sure Mary Lee let everyone know what was up.) The weather was awesome, we had our fire extinguisher clutched tightly to our bosoms, and we made steady progress. Oh, and by the way- as far as those guys hassling us about the fire extinguisher. Some people would say they were “just doing their jobs,” and we shouldn’t have a negative reaction to unreasonable treatment. Well, I’m going to say real briefly (for once, right?) that if they get enough feedback about the unreasonable crap they’re asked to do, they might start to question it themselves. That goes for the army, the police, anyone carrying out things that don’t make sense, when they don’t. That’s feedback, that’s what makes people change. Keep acting like this behavior is “normal,” and keep getting it forever. My vote against this is to write a letter, and to tell them at the time that this makes no sense. One guy sat there shaking his head while the other initiated all this crap. I know we were heard.
Anyway, we decided to take advantage of the stream, since we had a long road to hoe (is that right? I never did totally get that expression. Is it hard row to hoe? Let me know…) and shoot the extra hundred miles north that we had to do anyway while out in the 2 ½ mph current. Instead of doing the trip as totally west, then totally north allowed us to shave a huge amount off of the time spent. We sallied forth without incident, until mostly across, about fifteen miles from shore, the wind picked up suddenly and noticeably. We reefed our sails, and after a bit of time, decided to head in.
Good thing we did. The waves grew and grew, until they were about 6 feet and not just swells, widely spaced (see blog a few entries back on the importance of this), they were close, steep, and started rolling. If you do look at that entry, you see what a steep rolling wave of three feet does to our little boat- it almost put us over. So, we steered between the waves, hitting them at opportune angles. It was a bit difficult to navigate, since the closest inlet out of the stream was directly west, and the wind was directly south. That meant the waves were coming from the South, and we were taking them on the beam, in many cases. So, it was a constant zig zag and back and forth, and hoping we didn’t zig when we should have zagged. We got in alright. We tied to a mooring ball, the first we saw among some moored boats, and hunkered down. Ruth made the leftover barracuda, and we chilled out. And we didn’t even get ciguatera poisoning, which, some people say you’ll get from barracuda, but we tend to think it’s many fish, and rarer than some would say. Long story.
Anyway, cool pix of the barracuda. I woke at 7 or so. We were now inside the inlet at Lake Worth, 20 miles short of the waterway St. Lucie, which leads to Okeechobee, which takes you across Florida. We needed to get to St. Lucie yesterday, but due to the sudden wind from the South, we fell short of our mark. I thought we could take the Intercoastal Waterway up, but we lacked charts, and looking at it on the GPS, it just looked like someone spilled all of their red and green marbles all over, but couldn’t tell what was what. There was a marina near our mooring, but it was too early to expect them open. Yeah, I could lay around in bed and read Moby Dick again, or play “Like a Virgin” on the clarinet again. But we were late. I headed north.
After grounding the boat twice going north through a maze of red and green buoys, spaced randomly, like some kind of nautical proof of chaos theory, I said screw it, and headed back out to the Stream. Once out, I checked NOAA weather on our trusty New Orleans Red Cross Weather Radio (TM), and they said nothing out of the north for 24 hours. I headed further north. Ruth and I dragged fishing lines, in some vain hope that the fish god would take pity on us, or that the damned fish would appreciate all the hard work we’ve gone to, to make attractive lures out of skirts, hulas, feathers, spoons, and all kinds of thingamabobs for their delicious destruction.
Nope. No fish. We continued north. The next inlet was Jupiter. We got to it, and as we passed it, on the way to St. Lucie, I said to Ruth “Honey, maybe we should just turn in here, since the wind is already coming from the North, and it could get rough.” Well, we gave up on the fish, pulled in the lines, and turned in. As we headed to shore, I said “Hey honey? Do you think you could get a picture of these big swells? They must be four feet high, but they’re so spread out, you can hardly see them pass.” Ruth tried to get a pic, and as she did it, we saw some waves hit the area of the inlet. They absolutely exploded. You could see the white water several feet high, churning and rolling from a quarter mile away, or maybe a half, from BEHIND the waves. They were hitting that shore like a ton of bricks. We looked for a second longer, and said “screw this too. There’s no way we’d survive that ride in. With it at our bow, but especially not with it at our stern. Hell naw.”
We headed south again. Now the 7 am start I jumped on had turned to 12pm or something, back where we started. We pulled in. A cop passed, then pulled us over. We succumbed. He tied up to us, grilled us, then towed us in so he could search the boat. We welcomed him, and said fine, whatever. He got on board, and then spent the next 30 minutes asking how we did it, how the Bahamas was, etc. after he told us that the formal interview was over. A bit of a shakedown artist, not above the occasional grift. Not a bad guy if looks, brains, and personality don’t count, and he better hope they don’t.** He gave us the shaggy dog story (do you have drugs? I’m bringing a drug sniffing dog on your boat, and he’ll know, and you better tell me now… etc. which he later confided was b.s.) He told us again how we should clear customs. Oh, and while he was asking our life story, we replayed the Coast Guard incident. He was the first to say that that was bullshit. He was incredulous. Whatever. Screw the Coast Guard. Oh yeah, and screw customs. If I never see another cop in my lifetime, it’ll be too soon. Whatever.
We hit a marina. The same one we had left 7 hour earlier. Then another, where they attempted to chase us off. We gave them the sad eyes, and the let us leave to buy a chart of the ICW. We returned, bags of groceries, chart, flare gun, and some Captain Morgan’s. Off again, we were. Off, that is, after bribing the security guy 10 bucks to use his phone for 10 minutes. He was from Haiti. Nice guy. Named Lewis.
We headed north. We hit drawbridge after drawbridge. The first one though, they said was opening 15 minutes from when we pulled up. To our side, a Texaco. “You sell beer?” we hollered. Sure enough. 15 minutes later, we had docked, bought beer, ran credit cards, had credit card problems, they called Houston Control, we ran out, undocked, cleared the bridge.
Now the wind’s blowing 20+ from the North. I’ll tell you what: I’m glad we’re taking this part of the trip inside the ICW, rather than out there in the Gulf Stream. They’re supposed to be steep 7 foot waves now. No thanks.
Now we’re back on the road. Hoofing it. We have 95 miles a day to do, on average, at 6-7 mph, not counting drawbridges, cops, breakdowns, dried up waterways*, fatigue, or hangovers. Kind of like the Blues Brothers. It’s midnight, we have a pack of cigarettes, a half a tank of gas, it’s dark, and we’re wearing sunglasses. Or something like that. So it goes.
Speaking of that, Kurt Vonnegut’s been dead a year now. I could still cry for that. Heard a great retrospective of him on the radio yesterday, and read his last book last year. It was awesome. Very “contemporary,” if you get my drift. Good man. Nix that. GREAT man.
*We heard, upon arrival here, after all of this journeying, and heading this far north up Florida’s coast via the Gulf Stream, that the Okeechobee route is closed. False alarm, only one of the two Okeechobee routes is closed. Wouldn’t that be a bitch though, after all that? (Same guy told us it took him 4 12 hour days to go across this same 110 miles… Uh-oh…)
**Miller’s Crossing, circa 1989, or something. Great movie, I quote a lot. Oh, and on that topic- Ruth and I saw the WORST movie ever, called BRICK. We have it, it’s a blatant ripoff, and it’s just bizarre how bad it was. It was worse than Suburbia. If you like to watch movies you hate, like I used to love to watch Thirtysomething and grind my teeth, you’d love this. In any event, even if you don’t, Miller’s Crossing is still brilliant, and the wellspring for all kinds of witty banter. Just now, as Ruth and I hit a drawbridge, we called a drawbridge on VHF and asked the surly attendant what time the drawbridge opens, or what the next opening would be. He replied that it opened on request. Seeing as how we were sitting outside it, and he should have been able to see us, I asked if what we had said so far counted as a request, or should I engrave something formal. He actually warmed up after that bit of sarcasm. And I owe it all to the Cohen brothers, and Miller’s Crossing. True story ™.
THE NEXT DAY OR SOMETHING, SOMEWHERE IN FLORIDA, 2008 by Jack
Okay. First, the ICW takes FOREVER. We’ve gone a few miles, putted along, stopped for a drawbridge, putted a few more, stopped again, repeat, repeat until fade, as they say in the music business. Now we’re waiting for the lock at Lake Okeechobee. I think we’ve traveled about 15 miles today. It’s 2pm, We’ve been driving, or rather Ruth’s been driving since 7 or something. The lock opens at 3, and in the meantime we’ve been fishing, and caught one catfish. Maybe 18 inches or something. Blah. I guess I’m just impatient to get there, and it’s making me tense and crabby. We have a long way to go, and we’re never going to get there at the speed we’re going now: stopped. We’re listening to Bob Dylan’s radio show. It’s pretty sweet, digging up all these old tunes united by a common theme, but it’s a drag to hear that the theme of this week’s show is Cadillacs- so all the songs are about Cadillacs, which is fine in itself, but when you realize the show was sponsored by Cadillac, you realize that even old Bob Zim has sold out, and that’s pretty pathetic. He has more money than God, and why a cultural icon for freedom of expression and being, real, heartfelt and genuine, would end up in his retirement shilling for a car company is beyond me. That’s like Geronimo or John Lennon, or D. Boon selling toothpaste or cigarettes. Whatever, man. What we need is another band like the Carpenters. Now that was a band. That guitar solo in “Goodbye to Love,” or “Angel of Death,” now that was music. Man, I must be a drag to read. I’m so cynical, I think everyone is selling something.
Oh yeah, I forgot. They are. Whatever.
FRIDAY, MAY 2, 2008 COOSALATCHEE RIVER, Florida by Jackie Scratchie
Well, here we are, wherever that is. We’re creeping along the swamp country, and enjoying the view, anxious to be home to y’all. Phyllis said that her and Burt are going to have a party for us when we get home, and that sounds pretty damned exciting, I think. I can’t imagine how much fun that will be to see all of you guys, all of these faces we missed so much, and to tell you all in person: “Quit it!”
Maybe you all got the message from my mom about that already. I told Ruth to tell her to tell David and Michele to keep it up, and for everyone else to quit it, whatever it is that you’re doing. I’m sure you’re up to no good.
So won’t that be exciting to see everyone in one place? Mary Lee’s big smile, Michele’s big belly, and my brother’s big downplay that he’s going to be a Pappy. How exciting. I want to have a beer with Mr. Murawski, a scotch with my Pop, hugs to Reta and Mrs. M., lose a game of Pig to Dave, and tell Laura to live it up. We just went through a swing bridge, and took a video of it, while Ruth drove and I photographed her telling everyone that she loved them. Here’s the link:
(I’m going to post this later, due to time constraints)
Anyway, where was I? Me? Digress? Never. So anyway, as my mother would say, it’s always good to get away, but it’s always good to get home. And as my dad would say “Look at that bridge!”
The latest plan (What me? Revise? What? Me? Worry? Oh, by the way. Did anyone else ever notice that the punctuation in that Mad Magazine quote made their famous line totally not make sense? As a kid, I could never quite get the joke because I thought maybe there was something that I was missing, the way they wrote it: “what me worry?” Turns out like a lot of things we don’t understand, they’re just dumb.) Anyway, the latest plan is this: we’re going to get as far as we can in the time we have. We have to be home to New Orleans (I keep forgetting that won’t be home anymore)- BACK to New Orleans by May 10 so Lindsey can get out of there, and there will be someone to take care of our pore ol’ houndsTM. So anyway, we’re racing back to cover these last 1000 plus miles to get there, We’ve gone several hundred, and it’s taken us a few weeks, and we have about a week left to cover the last 700+. If the weather is right, if the boat runs right, if we drive 14 hours a day, and the stars line up right, and everything goes well, we will just get there after our pore ol’ houndsTM have starved to death. So, we’re rethinking that plan. The latest plan is this: we’re going to go as far as we can, not kill ourselves, not depend on the weather being perfect, not plan on the stars (they always let us down) and get as far as we can as fast as we can. If we make it, we make it. If not, we stop, leave the boat, take a bus to NOLA, relieve Lindsey, fix the truck, fix or sell the Honda, pour the driveway, clean up the house and get it listed to sell, sell some tools, pack the rest in a trailer, take the dogs to the park, eat a sandwich, leave, pick up the boat, take the tools from the trailer and put them in the boat, and drive up to have a big old party. So we figure, that might set us back at least two or three days. You never know, really. Those New Orleans sandwiches are huge.
So we hate to be vague, and we’re super excited to see you all, but we have to do these things, and we’re getting closer and closer to the finish line all the time. We’ll be in touch when we can put a firm date on things. In the meantime, we creep up the coast.
Man, can you believe that Barack Obama’s chances of being nominated are being shortcircuited by the fact that he went to church where Jeremiah Wright said things that are offensive to people, when taken out of context? Isn’t this amazing, that our political machine works this way, that this guy can be raked over the coals for this long, over nothing he ever did? Incredible. Hillary Clinton was married to Bill Clinton, and takes credit for all of his successes, and none of his failures, has no residual baggage, somehow from Whitewater, the bombing medical facilities in Sudan (which, according to Noam Chomsky is the biggest terrorist act committed on earth since World War II), the suspicious suicide of ally Vince Foster, etc. etc. These things are MASSIVE compared to what he’s being picked over for… I honestly believe the reason he’s being picked apart so hard is that the people who run our media think like Rush Limbaugh, who has been so vocal in suggesting that Republicans register as Democrats and throw of the nomination (a slimy, and typical move of this human swine and those that would follow him). He believes that Clinton is beatable, because the Clinton administration left people so polarized, whereas Barack Obama is actually someone who can win, and can actually change things. Let’s be honest: if she wins the primary, the Republicans will win the election. If he wins, people will come out of the woodwork in droves, and the non-voting apathetic Democrats will actually feel like there’s a possibility of change and start voting. The people that want things to stay the same, who want people to stay divided, the people that make so much money from this war, and who hoodwinked so many into believing in it, and who control our media (and yes, they are the same people- look it up) know that Obama can win, and they can’t have that. They can’t have change. Even four years of rolling back the draconian laws and tentacular holds that have occurred since the “progress” of the Republicans.
And yes, I did make up that word. It is apropos, non?
By the way, this is the last time you will read me offer political ideas in this diary. Even though I think all of our lives are political, that daily life is political, that even this blog of our adventures is affected by politics and that contrary to what some would say, I think it has a place here, even. I’m going to start a new blog though, not so that I can keep politics off of here, but rather so that I can give this madness the scrutiny it deserves. If the new blog address follows, then you know I started it. I’ll kick it off with that post, solicit your ideas as emails to me, which I will post on the blog, so we can talk about it together. (I’m going to have to wait on that link too, due to time constraints. Also, we both have a ton of photos to put up yet. Those will be forthcoming).
One more thing before I go: Heard an interesting tidbit of info this morning as we left the River’s Edge dockage. They had a pool, and I had hoped to take a dip in it before we left. We were in a hurry though, because we slept in and had to make the last lock of the trip before 4pm. So I figured since I couldn’t go in the pool, I would just take a dip in the river while under way- you know, just jump off the bow while moving, and as the boat passes by, grab the ladder in the back and climb back in. So I was out the door of the office after paying, and I said “By the way, is that river cool to swim in?”
“Oh, NO. No WAY. There’s 9 foot alligators in there. I’ve had ‘em come up on the grass here.”
“Really? I knew they were there, but I didn’t think they would really bother you.”
“Oh yeah they will. On the bank, if you walk toward them, they’ll just crawl off into the water. But in the water, they rule, and they know it. And the worst part is how they kill you.”
“How’s that? By dragging you under and drowning you, right?”
“They’ll grab an arm or a leg and just start rolling over, and they’ll roll over and over and over spinning and holding you under until you’re drowned. And while you’re rolling, you won’t know which way is up even if you could get free, which you wouldn’t.”
Glad I asked. I almost jumped in yesterday too, which I’ve been dying to do- to finally swim now that we’re in some fresh water. The leftover bag of conch we were using for bait fell in and I told Ruth I didn’t think it would be any problem if she swam for it. I was about to jump in my bathing suit and go for it too, but we managed to grab it off of the side of the boat. We also parked close enough last night to swim in to the town while waiting for the drawbridge to open. It opened right away, so we didn’t. Glad I asked though.
Ruth probably wrote about how when we dove this one wreck, how I was SCUBA diving and Ruth was snorkeling on the surface, and the barracuda were creeping up behind my head without me noticing, and she was bugging out and yelling on the surface till I finally heard her, somehow. And I turned and they split. And here we worried about them, but then some people say they’re harmless, and of course some say they’re not. And then we think we’re safe, and there really is something dangerous in the water. Just goes to show, you can’t ever assume you know what’s up.
THURSDAY, MAY 8, 2008 Still in Florida, by Jack.
We just left Appalachicola (real name) this morning. Trying desperately to get home on time. We have till the 10th. We were doing okay, but got behind schedule with yesterday essentially amounting to a day off in ol’ Appalachicola, which is a little “drinking town with a fishing problem” according to my T-shirt. Ruth and I blew the bank, drinking beer and buying souveniers and stuff. We had a good time though. Wonderful, nice people there. If you ever get there, go to the marina under the bridge and buy the guy who works there a beer for me. His name is Jeff. Nice guy.
Ruth just saw a hawk fly by with a mouse in its talons. Pretty cool. Oh, anyway, we were doing pretty good schedule-wise, but we cut about 40 miles out of our trip by cutting across the Big Bend, heading about thirty miles from shore to make a straight line out of a semicircle. Once out there, it got dark, and no moon, and the 2 foot waves predicted grew to five. Luckily, the Gulf of Mexico is very shallow very far out, so we anchored out there in the middle of nowhere overnight, and in the a.m., it was about as close to glass as big water gets. We then went into Appalachicola, and when we went to leave this a.m, we heard the forecast for 5-6 foot waves and 20 knot winds, so we’re taking the inland waterway. I think it’s 350 miles or something this way, instead of 280, but it’s very flat. Unfortunately, you can’t sail because it’s narrow. So, it’s slower, smoother, prettier, and costs more in gas. But what’re ya gonna do.
I can’t wait to start my political blog/site. I trust you will all sign on and give me a hard time. I would expect nothing less.
No news is good news, from me. We’re chugging along, enjoying the Spanish moss and cypress knees. Take care everyone.
Big love from above,
Mr. Jack
SUNDAY, May 11, 2008 4:15 in the p.m., by Crabby Jack
Howdy y’all. Happy mother’s day, and whatnot. Ruth and me, we got Phyllis a toilet wrangled out of a shipwreck. What’d you do fer your pore ol’ muther?
We’re on a Grayhound bus back to the Big Windy Easy That Never Sleeps, racing to our beloved hounds. We plan to surprise them, and videotape it. I think they might be almost as glad to see us as we will be to see them. I’m never, ever, ever, ever, nerver, leaving them for so long again. My poor little heart would never be able to take it.
I just wanted to post this last blog entry from the trip, and to the people who tuned in time after time to follow our progress, follow our silly misguided adventures, I want to thank both of you with all of my heart.
We miss you all, and I think I might keep posting stuff on this blog, but maybe it will just be about our exciting lives, so you can all peer in and get the dirt on us in case we run for office or something, you’ll have something to blackmail us with, like the one day last fall when Ruth didn’t wear her American flag pin. Of course, everyone already knows about that, because as a good komrade, I immediately turned her into the Thought Police, but that’s just one example. Now you know that we swear like sailors (hell, we ARE sailors, after all), dipped our toes occasionally into tepid bongwater, and the aforementioned affront to Big Brother that Ruth committed.
Please stay in touch, and we’re going to be home in but a few weeks, I hope. We’ll buy a cellphone when we get a minute, and please write me anything rantworthy that should go on the political blog. Maybe we can kick it off with the topic of how you feel about Rush Limbaugh trying to short circuit the dcmocracy our founding fathers instituted, that our country is based on, that so many have died in the name of, and that he claims to believe in. Was his “Operation Chaos” something that is defensible, or is it just an even lower stooping, one more squeal from this bloated, hysterical, hypocritical, porcine moron? I’m waiting until I hear from you to form my opinion. For real, write to me so we can discuss this stuff, and I promise to give equal time to all ideas, no matter how ridiculous, before they are systematically dismantled.
Big hugs from a big lug,
-Jack
And big hugs from a little lug too!
-Ruth
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