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Boating is... 6 Captains in a bath tub; Part
Three! 345
"The End of a boating Pub Crawl"
by boatguy Ed
We'd worn out our welcome at Larry's Landlubber
Waterfront Restaurant after spending over half of our $120 pooled poke. The
staff weren't all that unhappy to see us go although one bartender is always
very warm and friendly despite our antics. We get a general feeling that the
younger staff wish we would act our age. Tough! It would have been fine if we'd
stayed right there but we were tired of entertaining ourselves and watching the
staff 'nest' together.
Having $45 more to spend we went around to Turtle
Cay behind the beach where we had a few beers and bought our designated driver
two original Coca Colas. They are famous for their spicy shrimp served with
sweet potato fries so we ordered two. Those of us with Gall Bladders that still
function ate the shrimp while the others munched on the crispy fries.
The entertainment is up a flight and a half to the
outside bar. Molly Malone played Irish music even though her real name is Irma
Swartz. After munching down the food we huffed and puffed our way upstairs.
Maybe it was our age or the beer we were hauling skyward but an elevator would
have been appreciated.
This was unfamiliar territory, really touristy
with gigantic ice smushing machines and really tall glasses for the fruity
drinks tourists crave. "Hey, they have half priced rum runners," said Boston
Bob, "do we have enough for a round?"
"I could use one," replied Tumor Tom excitedly.
"You're on your own," said the official treasurer
of the pub crawl (me), "we should have skipped the spicy shrimp. (to the
barmaid) Could we get spicy shrimp up here?"
"We don't serve food up here but you can bring
them up with you! I won't stop you!"
"I don't blame them for not serving food. The
couldn't keep food runners if they made them run those steps," said Run-aground
Ralph.
"Why don't they put in a dumb waiter," asked Cap'n
Crunch.
"Are you applying for the job," asked Pensacola
Slim as he sipped wine from a real glass.
"What are you implying?
We all ponied up an additional $10 and the party
continued. During our stops at the different clean, neat, colorful waterfront
bars we noticed a phenomena that is very much associated with tourist season,
none of the staff were friendly. Despite our 20% tips we never heard the tip
bell ring and that is a pretty good indication that we locals aren't one of
their favorite types. It's different in the
off-season but in season it's pretty hard to impress the servers.
Several fellow boaters came by to say hello and to
complain about the weekend boaters who run down the middle of the channel and
chase everyone else onto the flats. "Where are the water cops? I only see them
on the weekend and then they hang out in front of the beach hotels watching the
bikinis or at the pass stopping every third boater to catch the drunks," said
Wally, a member of th big local yacht club.
We all agreed it was getting more dangerous
everyday on the water. "Maybe the downturn in the economy will slow down boat
sales enough to get the current crop of idiots educated," said "Instructor
Howard" of the Power Squadron. But we were preaching to the choir because we
were all of the same mind.
I noticed that our designated driver was running
out of patience with our crowd. Nothing is worse than being sober with a bunch
of drunks in tow. "I think it's time to officially end the unofficial pub crawl
and head back to the dock," I said.
"I love this daylight savings time," said
Run-aground Ralph as we idled out of the back bay.
"I don't know why they ever change it," said Cap'n
Crunch. "Just think of your grandkids standing on a cold dark street in the
winter and you'll know why," said Boston Bob. "Screw the little tykes,' said
Pensacola Slim.
With that pleasant note in our minds we flew
across the bay as the sun was setting and raced up the river and down the dead
end canal. "I wonder what the poor people are doing," asked Texas Tumor Tom.
"Working a second job to pay for your oil, you
bastard," said Boston Bob.
Always use Super Shipbottom Antifouling Bottom
Paint boys and girls and make Uncle boatguy happy. Remember
www.supershipbottom.com
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Boating is.....
6 Captains in a bath tub; Part Deux! (See Part One Below) March 8th, 2008
by boatguy Ed
The reason the "Dead End Canal Yacht Club" likes
Larry's Landlubber Waterfront is, drum roll please, because we don't care if
they like us back. Larry's Landlubber Waterfront is as mediocre as any
restaurant or bar can be but it has one saving grace, the waterfront view. Larry
bought the place for way more money than he should have because he loved the
simple elegance of the place. And then he changed it!
"Charlene, how have you been," asked Boston Bob.
'Get out the wheelbarrow George the big tippers are here,' she mumbled. "Give us
a round of Old Frothingslosh. two pitchers if you please!"
"Larry took Old Frothingslosh off tap but we still
have it in the bottle and it's on special at $3.75 per," said Charlene with a
wry smile. We asked what had replaced our old standby? "He's taken all the
domestics off draft and replaced them with imports!"
"Are the chicken wings still on special," asked
Texas Tumor. Charlene nodded and the Tumor licked his lips. They weren't as
inexpensive as those most discarded body part of a chicken from bygone eras used
to be but they were progressively cheaper. A half dozen were $3 but 4 dozen were
only $20. "Give us the 4 dozen, Texas hot!"
"No way you idiot, my gall bladder is acting up"
shouted Run-aground Ralph. "Charlene, honey can you make them mild with hot
sauce on the side?"
"I can put regular hot Buffalo sauce on side but
the Texas Hot will cost extra," Char said.
"Never mind Char, I've got my own," said Tumor Tom
pulling a small bottle out of his fanny pack. We ordered two buckets of a very
popular beer that none of us like because they were five bottles in a bucket for
$10.
Our group split up to visit with other groups,
Power Squadron members, Coast Guard Axillary members, old bar flies and the
such. I wasn't to interested in the same old same old conversations so I sat
with our designated driver. "What do you think of the place," I asked?
"I haven't been here for a long time but it sure
has changed. I remember you could see the water from almost every seat in the
house but now I can't see anything but bars," remarked 'Run-aground' Ralph's
Grandson, Bill. "That's progress I guess?" Hardly, I thought but when there is a
big nut to pay the easiest way is with liquor.
Cap'n Crunch lead a Power Squadron member over to
the table, "Tell Neil what you told me," he demanded. I started with the price
of oil and how we had to get off foreign imports but the Cap'n stopped me
abruptly. "I mean the... I mean how it was the props fault all this time for
tearing up my boat!"
"Absolutely, Neil, you should see how sweet she
answers the helm now and backs almost as straight as an arrow. I think that the
'Spirit Filled Prop Technology' company may have performed an exorcism on it as
well," said I tongue in cheek. Neill started laughing but checked himself until
he saw the good Cap'n go off to find another person to drag over.
This is neutral territory so a good natured
discussions are allowed and encouraged among the diffuse group of boaters. The
Coast Guard Auxiliary was deep in defense of the real Coast Guard and the Corps
of Engineers over the poor state of the pass at the end of the island.
"The Corp has spent 18 months rebuilding the
levees around New Orleans and they're stretched to the limit," one member
countered Run-aground Ralph's contention of malfeasance and neglect.
"Five years ago when they had just finished
dredging that pass YOU ran aground on the tip of the island, didn't you?" Ralph
claimed his steering had failed and a big cruiser had driven him ashore with a
humongous wake.
Boston Bob had found a few sailboaters and they
were lamenting the new town rules about tying up their vessels at the town
mooring balls. ""Six months and you have to leave. I moved out of the pass and
now anchor behind Little Fart Island where the skeeters are horrendous. It's the
people in those high rise condos that don't want us to be here," said a
blow-boater angrily.
The wings arrived on a huge platter and our crew
came back along with some invited and some uninvited guests. One couple from
Ohio wanted to know where the plates for the happy hour buffet were? 'Texas
Tumor Tom' and 'Pensacola Slim' brought along a few of the upper class to join
in our feast. These two run with the same crowd and they are used to handouts
'cause they're rich.
"Hey guys and gals how are you? We've all chipped
in for these wings and would be happy to take your donation," I said. The
startled look upon their faces was expected.
'Texas Tumor Tom' came over and tried to push me
away. "They're my invited guests!" Ante up $40 more for your guests, I replied.
"We've got a hundred and twenty dollars to spend and we can afford a few chicken
wings for my friends!"
"We put in $20 for this pub crawl and YOU are
taking advantage of us to impress your friends! You've got one of three options,
Tom. Send them back to the bar and buy them anything you want, put in an
appropriate dollar amount to cover their share or be banned from these pub
crawls for LIFE!"
Just then the tip bell started wringing wildly and
yellow flags started flying. Boston Bob had been sited for a 15 yard penalty for
talking politics or religion and we were in danger of being evicted. And you
thought this was all fun and games?
Stay tuned for the finale of our most recent pub
crawls. Boat Safe! Always use Super Shipbottom Antifouling Bottom Paint
boys and girls and make Uncle boatguy happy. Remember
www.supershipbottom.com
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Boating is..... 6 Captains in a bath tub!
by boatguy Ed
I wish I could report better news but our grand
fuel savings experiment failed, miserably during an exercise of patriotic duty
and our frugality. We gathered six of our the most ardent supporters of the
"Dead End Canal Yacht Club" for a waterborne pub crawl which is our habit on
occasion. The designated driver 'chosen' to bring us home was 'Run-aground'
Ralph's Grandson visiting from Pennsyltuckey.
In normal time (gasoline under $4 a gallon) we
would have rendezvoused at the same happy hour waterfront bar using our own
boats. Since we are trying to save money, oops I meant gasoline, to thwart those
dirty oil barons and Osama bin Laden we decided to boat-pool. We didn't realize
how many casualties we would take in the battle for America's good!
Joining the skirmish was; me, 'Cap'n Crunch',
'Run-aground' Ralph, 'Boston Bob', 'Texas Tumor Tom', grandson Bill and
'Pensacola Slim'. We loaded onto Cap'n Crunch's 28 foot boat. Since 'Cap'n
Crunch' feigned an injury to his shoulder from playing golf he elected me to
take his boat out of his slip. What a 'scardy cat' ever since the new rub rail
was installed. His wife said the local dealer used up the last of his extensive
inventory and she laid down the law about him hitting everything or anything.
"She backs a little to starboard, be careful,"
moaned the Cap'n. We glided astern until well free of those cursed pilings that
he swears were put in the wrong place and that is why he bounces off them so
regularly.
"That new prop seems to have done the trick," I
said aloud as we slowly wound our way down the canal. He went about telling
everyone aboard about the re-popping of his boat and how I said it fixed the
errant helm that was his nemesis all these years. "I think I'll try it out on
the way back," he said to our horror.
"Watch out for the Manatees," said our resident
tree hugger, Boston Bob. Where are they questioned everyone else aboard? "I saw
a couple at the end of our canal a week ago!"
"Run 'em over," shouted Pensacola Slim. "They're a
useless non-native species who can't adapt and should go extinct and leave our
boats alone." We all harrumphed and harrumphed even though we knew he was 90%
kidding.
"Be careful of my new prop! Manatee skin is tough
and they can damage a finely honed propeller!" I ignored him and kept the coarse
toward the open water of the river.
"Where are we heading," asked Tumor Tom," I'd
prefer the new place "Sensations" at the new waterfront development
'Sensational.'
"That's almost 20 miles up the inter-coastal and
it is a half a tank of fuel," replied Boston Bob. "Leave it to a jackrabbit oil
man to pick the furthest spot."
"You never mind about my oil wells! I'll cut you
off and then you'll be paying $12 per gallon,"
shouted the Texan with the low producing wells
that only are worth pumping when the price of oil is so high.
"Let's go to Larry's Landlubber Waterfront
Restaurant and Seafood Market. It's a lot closer and I know a short cut," said
Run-aground' Ralph. I throttled up and headed towards the river while
Run-aground' Ralph tried to convince me to take a backwater route and Cap'n
Crunch tried to shout him down.
The north shore of the river is nearly devoid of
waterfront restaurants so we are usually forced to run the 3 miles down to the
beach and seek our happiness among the dozen or so happy hour spots with docks.
We could have driven in half the time even with the heavy 'season' traffic but
arriving by boat is such an ego trip that we so do enjoy.
"Keep to the right of the channel there is a shoal
building on the left side," said Pensacola Slim as we entered the pass at the
north end of Estuary Beach. I could plainly see that the light green water was
indeed further into the channel than the marker indicated. An argument broke out
about the setting of the marks and the continuing flux of the pass.
'Run-aground' Ralph cursed the Coast Guard for
their ineptness, "I've run up on that bar several times and they never move the
marker one foot!"
I followed the middle of the channel and had ten
feet of water under the keel all the way to Larry's Landlubber Waterfront
Restaurant and Seafood Market. Here in Florida the old restaurants always
planted themselves on points of land sticking out into channels. That means that
the tide rips passed in one direction or another four times a day.
"You need to be closer in and lay the rail up on
that piling," said Boston Bob pointing to the empty slip right in front of the
busy bar.
"He ain't laying s&^%t against no piling," cried
Cap'n Crunch and half the patrons looked our way. It was very embarrassing. I
just passed up all the docks nearest the channel and settled for a nice one out
of the current.
"You coward," said 'Run-aground' Ralph as he
stormed into the restaurant. "You had the perfect opportunity to prove your
seamanship and you blew it!
That's funny because I thought I had proven it by
using good judgment. Oh well, boat safe and come back soon to read about the
return trip!
Always use Super Shipbottom Antifouling Bottom
Paint boys and girls and make Uncle boatguy happy. Remember
www.supershipbottom.com
Boating is....
February 17th, 2008
by boatguy Ed
On my morning constitutional I noticed the "Handy
Dandy Dockside Service" truck parked in Indiana Andy's driveway. He is one of
the newer members in our beloved "Dead End Canal Yacht Club" and he's from
Indiana of course! He brought an 8 year old 30 foot Barslammer down with him
several years ago and has kept it on a lift ever since.
He's a bit of a know it all. The members never
really took him under our wings, nice fellow though! His wife makes Swedish
meatballs for our club meetings and they are a big hit! On my second round trip
I saw 'Jeff the dockside mechanic' putting his tools in his truck and said
hello. I'd forgotten that I once wrote unkindly words about the skill level of
'some' dockside mechanics in a recent column. His chilly reception reminded me.
"Up and at it early this morning," I said in a
glancing way because I intended to keep moving.
I'm not sure if he'd rehearsed his reply or not
but it had the sting of a well thought comment. "I thought your club took care
of it's members..."
"Huh? What, what do you mean?" My reaction wasn't
well thought out or rehearsed. "What's your point?"
"Someone should have told your new member that
inboard/outboard boats should be checked regularly for worn out manifolds,
risers and such," quipped Jeff reaching for his invoice pad. I knew that
instrument of danger all to well because I had him do some work for me a few
yeas ago.
"Sea water in the oil," I asked fearing almost the
worst.
"The starboard engine is froze solid. It was
giving him trouble on the way in but he ran it home anyway," Jeff said with a
leering glint in his eye.
I knew the scenario all to well. I could
understand it if he was a single engine vessel but he had two. Granted, limping
home on one engine isn't fun but if he had any hope of saving the starboard
engine he should have shut it down immediately. When engines start acting up it
usually means bad fuel or it is over heating which will make it miss and smoke.
Bad fuel is no problem or should I say not nearly as much of a problem as
overheating. Ingesting sea water into the oil system is akin to sinking a hot
motor.
The cooling system on an I/O engine can be raw
water up to the heat exchanger or a type of enclosed radiator system. The sea
water side is eaten away at a fairly predictable rate because the metal is poor
but thick. Five years in Florida salt water is pushing your luck and inspecting
the outside for tell tale signs of impending doom isn't help much. The only
really definitive check is the ecostly removal of the elbows and riser that make
up the exhaust system slash heat exchanger.
A flash light and a probe is all it takes to
determine the potential longevity of the cast iron parts. I've always said that
once removed they should be replaced despite their condition because if you are
sufficiently suspicious replacing them will let you get a good night's sleep.
They make stainless steel sets which are very expensive but they will outlast
the rest of the boat.
There are myriad of flushing products that
promises to remove rust scale and coat the inside of the drive and heat
exchanger but they are just band-aids. I guess if you started using them from
the beginning it would help but after the corrosion starts it is a little too
late! Don't get me wrong everything corrodes in salt water including stainless.
"I was told to ask you," said Andy. Who told you
to ask me? "Jeff from Handy said you'd know the process for changing out the
motor!" Did he really? I wondered if it was my time to make up to him but I
needed to hear Jeff's proposal.
"He is going to replace the starboard engine with
the exact same engine if he can but he isn't to confidant. He thinks that both
engines might have to be replaced to match them up," said Andy.
"Have Jeff pull the starboard engine and send it
off to a re-manufacturer for an estimate. While you're waiting have him pull the
manifolds off the port engine. Go slow with this and have the best people work
on the engine. I wouldn't run out and buy 2 engines without checking out the
first one. As far as Jeff goes he is capable wrench who can pull the engines,
swap out parts and reinstall the new or rebuilt engine but I'd get a second and
probably a third opinion about everything else!"
I'm pretty sure Andy is going to get a new engine,
short or long block to be determined! Remember, if it's running hot - shut it
off! That's why we have towing insurance! Boat Safe.
Boating is .....
February 10th, 2008
by boatguy Ed
When I moved onto the "Dead End Canal" 15 years
ago I wasn't looking for hundreds of new friends. I'm not really an outgoing
person much like my Father who disliked most people except a very close circle
of acquaintances. He had his minstrel show group called the "Polly Wogs" where
he embarrassed his children by dressing up in black face! He tolerated his
family and a few drinking buddies but that was it.
My siblings keep pointing out that I am a lot like
him or should I say used to be. After moving onto the canal there was absolutely
no way to remain a hermit or troll! As the moving van was backing up to the
house there were people lining up to help. Thank goodness my wife was there to
charm the masses and explain that I was too buys to play nice.
"Hey, I'm Martin, Major Martin USMC! Welcome to
our little canal," this booming voice rose out of the crowd directed at my wife.
And that was alright with me because I wasn't ready for some energetic jar head
officer to tell me how to arrange my living room. After escaping the Marine Corp
draft in January 1966 because of a few misguided yet much appreciated volunteers
that took my place, hooray, I vowed not to go near another Gyrene again!
But that was impossible around Major Martin the
neighbor from hell! He was very helpful, way too helpful if you can picture
that. And a take control kind of guy who was used to giving orders and that was
his good parts. We were going to clash and it didn't take another half hour for
us to have our very first spat of many, many more.
"I'm ready to order the pizza," said my wife, "but
the guy in the crew cut wants everyone to have thin crust pizza."
"Order a mixture from Pizza Hut, thin, thick, hand
made whatever?"
"He doesn't like Pizza Hut. He's almost insisting
we order from some place called Mario and Nicole's in a plaza near here!"
"Order both and have them delivered." I decided to
stay away from the Major in order to keep the peace. No luck!
"Ed, I want to introduce myself," said Major
Martin. He went on to instruct me on how was the 'right way' to live on the
canal. His 'rules' were very revealing. The were right out of the Marine Corps
handbook. He was very prejudiced against sailboaters no matter what the color of
their skin.
Finally we had some common ground because I wasn't
to happy with sailboaters but for very different reasons than the Major. I had
owned a sailboat dealership back in my misspent youth and I grew to dislike most
of my customers because they took advantage of my knowledge but didn't buy from
me they bought from mail order discount catalogs.
Strangely enough I was no longer a sailboater but
I possessed a 20' Harpoon Boston Whaler sailboat that I inherited during a
bankruptcy procedure on a building I rented. I vowed to move that boat to my
dock just to get off on really bad footing with the Major.
"That's not a Boston Whaler," several other
neighbors argued when they stared at the decal on the small boats stern. I had a
good time proving them wrong but I never got a chance because the Major refused
to speak to me especially during the original meetings of the "Dead End Canal
Yacht Club" which he was forming.
The situation resolved itself when a man
approached me in his small boat as I cleaned the Whaler. "I wonder, sir, is that
boat for sale?" And then it was gone and I was admitted as a charter member to
the "Dead End Canal Yacht Club" and the Major started speaking to me. In fact up
until his death we almost became friends.
About the time the sailboat went away I became
involved with 'Super Shipbottom Antifouling Bottom Paint' and despite many of
the club members switching the Major never did. I never asked him to but I knew
it was his way of showing me he was in charge and that was okay by me. I never
asked him to use my paint because bottom paint is very personal and besides I
didn't want to deal with him if something like a meteorite happened to hit his
boat. I knew he would blame my bottom paint for attracting the disaster!
Although he never wore a powdered wig nor wooden
teeth the Major was the founding father of our beloved yacht club. The Major and
his wife out grew boating about seven years after forming the club. They sold
their waterfront home and bought a huge diesel motor home. It was a sad farewell
but we understood that it was now or never for the 80 year old. His boating
skills had diminished.
As the drove off for the last time a new member,
Cap'n Joe said, "Do you feel safe knowing he is driving that behemoth down the
highway?" It came to pass that old Joe quickly became Cap'n Crunch and the torch
was passed! Boat Safe!
Boating is.... Run-aground Ralph's Adventures
February 3rd, 2008
by boatguy Ed
The first time I went boating with Ralph was a
solid 15 years ago. He asked me to help him move his boat out of the work yard
and back to his dock. "You know these backwaters pretty well and I'm a little
unfamiliar...."
Fifteen years ago I was just here ten years but I
knew a lot of people in the boat business and I did a lot of business with them
too!
After his wife dropped us off at the boatyard
(which I thought was a little unusual because I've found it is always better to
have a car on both ends) Ralph began arguing with the owner of the yard over
several items on his bill.
"I never asked you to re-bed that through-hull,
did I," Ralph said to the totally unphased yard owner. "I want it taken off the
bill! Whoever heard of $250 to slop some goop on a sea cock?"
"It was on your surveyors report and you told me
to fix whatever he found because you were changing insurance companies once again!
The insurance surveyor wouldn't have approved your boat without the damage from
all those groundings and the neglected items being fixed..."
"I didn't authorize you to fix the through hull
fitting. You should have called," Ralph stammered.
"I left 5 messages on your answering machine and I
spoke to your wife once," said Betsy the service writer/office manager.
I was hiding around the corner with a magazine
pressed against my face. I should have known better because Ralph is a cheap,
argumentative know-it-all who even argues with the minimum wage young guy who
sprays fertilizer on his lawn. "You didn't put enough on the lawn and half of it
ended up on the sidewalk!" It is hard living near him.
"Pay the bill or the boat stays in the slings
until you do," the yard owner was becoming frustrated, "and if I have to
re-block it I'll put that on the bill, too!" They both stomped off in different
directions and I asked the nice lady for the phone book so I could call a cab.
"Is he a friend of yours," Betsy asked with one
eye brow cocked higher than I thought possible. Just a neighbor I replied
sheepishly. "I told George it was a mistake to let his boat back in here. I
thought he was banned for life!"
The taxi arrived just as Ralph stormed into the
yard owners private office. I waited a second and heard a crescendo of angry
voices before Ralph came running out. "You want a ride?" "No goddammit I'm going
to pay the bill but I'm going to call the Better Business Bureau on this place!
Send the cab away...." I didn't.
"George wants cash and cash only," Betsy told
Ralph, "he won't take a check or a credit card!" So we rode home in the taxi
while Ralph tried to figure out where he could find that much cash on a Saturday
morning. It must have been a lot harder than I thought because it took him a
week.
I heard from him on Thursday just about the
cocktail hour. "The boat is in the water, all paid up," he said. "Can you
accompany me on Saturday morning?"
He knew when my guard was lowest when I had a Jack
Daniels in my hand. I was surprised to hear myself saying I would 'accompany'
him. One older member of the fledgling "Dead End Canal Yacht Club" shook his
head and said, "That young man is trouble. He's sued half his neighbors and that
is why he asked you to go with him. He thinks because you have a Captain's
license you would have insurance."
I jotted down a contract that specified that I was
not acting in any way as the delivering Captain and that I was to be held
harmless in case of any damage. "What the hell is this," said Run-aground Ralph.
"I just need to have you sign this so we have no
misunderstanding later. I'll handle the lines but I won't drive or navigate
because I can't put my license in jeopardy," I said. I had a sweetheart
insurance deal from an insurance broker that liked the way I drove his boat so I
carried a lot more insurance than I needed but I didn't want to spoil the deal
either.
"You won't tell me if I'm going to run aground?"
Up to that point I had never referred to him as Run-aground Ralph but the
nickname sprang into my mind and has never left.
He signed the contract and we made it all the way
home without touching bottom once although he certainly did his best. At one
point I had to remind him that you shouldn't try to go where the birds are
walking. Not once but a half dozen times did he try to cut a mark or wander out
of the channel. I never grabbed the wheel but I did forcefully encourage him to
veer one way or the other on several occasions.
Alls well that ends well and our safe arrival was
much celebrated. Later on I learned that Run-aground Ralph drove up on the
Sanibel Shoal with a load of his church people aboard. I bet he taught them a
lesson in volatile expressions. Boat Safe!
Boating is...
January 23rd, 2008
by boatguy Ed
They're back, in case you haven't noticed but are
they spending any money? With the Florida economy in the dumper along with the
rest of the country the returning members of the "Dead End Canal Yacht Club"
have changed a little. At the "Welcome Back" party there were a plethora of
covered dishes most of which contained some form of bean.
"Hey, Charlie," I disappointedly asked our proud
representative of Kentucky, "where's your famous Jack Daniel ribs this year?"
"It's 'Old Granddad' baked beans this year my fine
old friend," Kentucky Chuck replied with as much grace as a retiree with too
many real estate properties on his books. His chin fell back down on his chest
and he went over to the keg of "Old Overshoe" for another plastic cup of his
least favorite libation.
"Was the day he wouldn't let draft beer within 10
feet of his lips," I remarked to Boston Bob and Manhattan Luigi as the greedily
scarfed down the peel and eat shrimp that I'd brought.
"These little shrimps are a lot more work than
last years jumbos," Luigi remarked while dunking three 35 to 50 count per pound
Gulf Pink shrimp into the killer hot shrimp sauce. He complained a little but
didn't stop eating.
"I guess the one-up-manship of the old days are
gone," remarked another member as he watched "Run-aground Ralph" turn over the
grill full of hot dogs. "Last year it was Bratwurst and the year before it was
rib-eye steaks!"
"I think those investment in 'Windward Isles
Condos' has a lot of people on a budget these days," I said.
"How did you miss out on such a great
opportunity," Miami Manny asked with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek.
"I didn't have the money or I might have been
caught up in the flipping mania that seized our
club. You have to admit that phase one was a money
maker. Some units that sold pre-construction for 175, resold in 6 months for
225. But the ones that sold for 225 now won't bring 150," I reflected.
"What a bunch of malarkey! These developers paved
over a U-Pic tomato field and slapped up condos in the middle of nowhere and
named it 'Windward Isles' but there wasn't any water for miles and miles," said
Boston Bob.
"I can't believe how many boats are for sale,"
Texas Tom said, "I think every other one on the canal has a sign on it."
It has started when one of the former canal
members brought a friend of a friend who was a real estate agent to an informal
cocktail hour. This agent worked for the developer of 'Windward Isles' and
piratically guaranteed everyone present 50K in profit if we bought in his
development.
"This is land office business. People up north are
flooding into our area. I sell at least one unit a day over the telephone sight
unseen," the sales-hole said after he bought a round of drinks. "I'll tell you
the truth I've got four units squirreled away for myself even though it might
not be technically kosher!"
He took names and numbers as fast as he could
write. "How about you," he asked me? I declined because I had recently invested
in new equipment for the factory. He pressed a little harder than I expected for
a sales-hole who must have been rolling in dough, so I decided to investigate.
One Saturday afternoon I took a ride to the
perpetual open house at 'Windward Isles' and was pretty surprised to see men
working feverishly on every stage of construction. Thankfully the sales-hole
that I met at the bar was otherwise occupied so I was shown through the 4 models
by a young woman.
"This is our town-home second floor layout and as
you can see we've spared no expense in designing these units," she said.
"They are quite beautiful with their marble
accents in the kitchen and baths and those cabinets are custom made, right? Are
they included in the price?"
She quickly checked her book and shook her head,
"The upgrades in this model increase the price a little." How little? "The
kitchen cabinets add twenty five thousand and the marble tops add another ten."
How about the tile floor throughout? Or the custom drapery and window coverings?
It turned out that the model had around 50K of
upgrades but there wasn't a model of the basic unit available. "To tell you the
truth I don't believe we've ever sold a bare bones unit, ever!" Sweet kid she
was but not my cup of tea.
I took the expensively produced brochure and
walked around 'the grounds' unaccompanied. The finished units were strangely
unoccupied although I did meet one young couple moving into an upstairs unit.
"Happy day for you moving into such a beautiful place," I said to the young man.
"Sure is happy," he said, "we got a deal on this
rental from some people in Minnesota!" Hmmm?
I wish I could tell you that I saw the flaw in the
'Windward Isles' story and that is why I didn't buy but it isn't true. I was
suspicious of the claims and the lack of people but everyone at that time was
speculating. I do feel sorry for the club members who are holding property there
but the economy is affecting us all in different ways. Boat anyway you can!
Boating is...
January 20, 2008
by boatguy Ed
We nautical types don't go to many movies because
we prefer being on the water to sitting in a darkened theater with annoying
strangers. Our wives tried to drag us to the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' series
with Johny Depp but after watching the trailers the "Dead End Canal Yacht Club"
declined as a group. I'm not sure who he was playing but I am sure he was
wearing frilly underwear while he was playing the role.
Then my brother from the cold north sent me the
'Master and Commander' movie with Russel Crowe. Now this is a movie after our
own hearts. So I hyped it up tot he rest of the club and we set a date for a
Tuesday in early January to watch this epic. I brought the DVD and my Orville
Reddenbacher air popper over to Cap'n Crunch's house because he has a gigantic
flat panel TV in his family room.
Since this was an unofficial gathering we didn't
purchase a keg of 'Old Overshoe' beer but we each brought our own libation. Mrs.
Crunch microwaved a platter of pepperoni pops and we all settled in for the
movie. Cap'n Crunch set the ground rules. A break every fifteen minutes was
mandatory especially for those of us with enlarged prostrates and weak bladders.
No talking during the movie and no throwing objects at the TV if the movie
stunk.
After 45 minutes Youngstown Wally cleared his
throat and asked, "I thought we were going to break?" Wally is on diuretics and
needed a break. "Well hurry up dammit," shouted Run-aground Ralph as the screen
was frozen on ordinary seamen scurrying up the ratlines on this 18th century
man-o-war. The whole group scattered just as if Russel Crowe had ordered the
boson to beat to quarters which would equate to the command 'general quarters'
in our modern navy.
The 'Aubrey - Mautrin' series written by Patrick
O' Brian is twenty odd books long and spans nearly fifty years including the
Napoleonic wars. The movie "Master and Commander; The Far Side of the World" is
early in the series and deals with Captain Jack Aubrey's orders to stop a French
Privateer of superior size from entering the Pacific.
"It would swing the balance of power to old Bonny
Part," says Cap'n Aubrey to his faithful friend and ship surgeon, Patrick
Mautrin, "but I have already exceeded my orders and will grind any grists to
stop him!"
That is what a good book needs. And this and it's
companion story's are great books because each has conflict, bloody action, a
great plot line, some humor and teaches the reader something they didn't know!
This is history (albeit fictional) about a period of English history that most
of us were never taught. America eventually plays a role in the books but is
rarely mentioned because of the "recent difficulties with our former colony," as
Aubrey puts it.
After we tended to our necessities we settled down
for some more of the movie. "Can you rewind it a little," whined Meat Packer Joe
who we all suspect is in the early stages of CRS (can't remember stuff) disease.
There were a low murmur but no real objections because way too many of us have a
little of CRS.
Anyway, where was I, oh yeah the battle continues
and the swabs scurry up the ratlines. The French Privateer shoots off the
'Surprise's' rudder and the cat an mouse chase is very dangerous indeed. There
is action aboard at every turn and a rounding of the Cape under full sail which
carries off part of the topsail and a crewman!
O'Brian's description of life aboard a man-of-war
is brilliant. He brings us conversational old English from the ward room and
from the lowest seaman which is so different that it could be a different
language altogether. He describes the daily life aboard a fighting ship, the
food, the broadsides with smoke and thunder and even death. The story is
somewhat hard to read because of such a technical description of the ships
rigging, the mysteries of the wind on a semi-square rigged vessel and finally
the act of flogging as discipline.
The movie cuts through the long passages about the
foretopsail. "There it is, ain't she," Killick the Cap'ns steward might say in
the movie describing that sail! A picture is worth a million words in this case
but what fantastic pictures they are.
When the movie ended there was a deep sense of
disappointment among all first time viewers. "Play it again," said Boston Bob.
"Not now, later you bilge-water swilling sot," Kansas Steve said very loudly.
We all laughed. Suddenly we were all talking like
those characters on the screen. Had there been a broom handle or two available
some of us would have been sword fighting in Cap'n Crunch's family room. We had
been transformed and this change continues because now we are using our boats
and talking about what a great day we had on the water even though that day was
windy and chilly.
Now the "Dead End Canal Yacht Club" is becoming a
book club because many of us are now reading the first book and are committed to
reading them all which I truly believe will make us use our boats more. Boat
Safe!
Boating is…
Jan 10th 2007
by boatguy Ed
I am writing this column
on my laptop while sitting in the JetBlue terminal at JFK airport. I have spent
the last week in New York City at the New York National Boat Show promoting the
Internet Boating Show and Super Shipbottom paint without I fear much success. At
least as not as much success as years passed.
I truly think this
industry is in trouble for many reasons but the most burdensome is the price of
fuel. There are several barrels of oil being used just to build the fiberglass
boats of today beside the barrels of oil that takes to move them across the
water. We all know what the price of oil has done over the last year and no one
seems ready to address this issue.
I’ve not heard one
Presidential candidate speak in anything b ut vague generalities about this
crisis and that tells me a lot about their intestinal fortitude. No guts no
glory but we keep electing these manipulators who get at least 4 years just by
not telling us what they’ll do if elected. I think Ron Paul is the only person
running who has laid out an agenda albeit very radical and refreshing.
We, the American people
don’t want the truth! Social Security is nearly bankrupt, the federal deficit is
HUGE that their grandkids will be paying it off if the country survives,
medicine is broken, our military is a shambles and our economy is spiraling down
to third world status as we stop manufacturing and keep importing!
I know that is hard to
read but it is going to be harder to live unless we do something about it all
very soon.
Should we build up walls
to protect the remaining manufacturing base? Or nationalize health care? Or toss
social security out the window because it is too broke already? I don’t know
about all of that but I think we should do something, maybe fix the imported oil
crisis. Show the world we still have a little guts and a little brain matter
left.
We are the laughing stock
of the world because we have squandered our legacy by allowing our money to be
drained from our country by the oil cartels. Trillions of dollars have been
removed from this country over the years to purchase oil. The oil cartels always
used the American dollar as their benchmark currency but now they’re talking
about switching to the Euro only because the Yen is so artificially low.
Do you get the picture?
Our currency is no longer as valued by the rest of the world and that will mean
a loss of investment and finally a lowering in living standards. The
WalMart-ization of America is the goal of many of our enemies including one of
the most predatory retailers mankind has ever know!
PS; I made it back to Florida safely and happily.
While checking my e-mail I received a blurb by Soundings Trade Only stating the
Irwin Jacobs has announced that his GenMar boat building companies will be
leaving Florida soon. I didn't see Mexico mentioned but with the new import
rules NAFTA has instituted I imagine it might be a consideration. Boat Safe!
Boating is...
DEC 24TH 2006
by boatguy Ed
All I want for Christmas is a new boat dog. What
is a boat dog the landlubbers among you may ask? What breed of dog makes the
best boat dog? Where do you get a boat dog? Have no fear I will answer all of
your questions in this column, I hope.
Boat dogs, for a better description, are dogs who
like boats but more importantly behave well aboard boats. There are a lot of
good behaviors but I think the best behavior is the ability to board a boat from
the water without using a hydraulic hoist. A wet dog weighs at least a ton more
than a dry dog. A wet dog that can climb a boarding ladder is ideal but most
can't!
Another necessary trait for a good boat dog is the
ability to go to the proverbial bathroom on the boat. Way to many of us have to
take their animals onto dry land before they'll go. That is very inconvenient
when you are making a passage even from your dock to a picnic spot but it is
very bad when you're on a long journey, say to the Bahamas or even to the Dry
Tortugas.
Most of the other traits for every dog are very
helpful for boat dogs. We all want our pets to be congenial yet wary and playful
yet serious about their duties. A true benefit of having a dog on board is their
keen hearing and enhanced sense of smell. If you cruise your boat you probably
worry about security in strange places. I once walked passed a sailboat tied up
to a busy wharf where a sleeping black Labrador Retriever adorned the cockpit.
The boat was wide open but no one appeared to be
home. As I smiled at the dog, a weathered looking woman approached, "I can tell
you like dogs," she said in a friendly fellow cruiser way. I nodded and asked
how old the dog was? "She's five years old and a real sailboat dog."
"You trust her a lot to leave the boat so wide
open. I suppose she is a good watch dog, too," I mused.
"She's pretty relaxed here at the dock. We leave
the cabin open so she can get out of the sun when it out maneuvers the Bimini.
She is a good watch dog at anchor which is when you really need protection," she
said proudly.
"I'm sure she wouldn't allow anyone to walk off
with the single side band radio," I said.
"Oh, heavens, no! That is her boat and unless we
bring you aboard she would not be welcoming in the least. Would you like to meet
her," she called her dog when I nodded. "Cloe, come girl! You can sleep later on
our next leg!"
The large black dog bounded up to the lifeline and
wagged her long tail. She panted excitedly and friendly and I felt totally safe
petting her. I told her she was a good girl and we bonded instantly but... I
knew there was a lot more to her than the overly friendly slobbering dog. Her
eyes were fixed on me not warily but watchfully.
"Does she have her 'spot,'" I asked. "Right up
there by the scupper trough is where she goes both ways. We taught her as a pup
and it saves us a lot of hassle."
I 'd met the perfect boat dog in Cloe and now I'm
on a quest for a brother or sister of Cloe. Nothing turns out quite the way one
expects if you know what I mean. I would have opted for another Labrador
Retriever but I don't have a big boat anymore. Labs tend to have a shorter life
span than most dogs and a real problem with hip dysplasia so I've opted for
mutts the last two dogs.
For 15 years we loved a real mutt, Cocker Spaniel
and Weimaraner if you can imagine that mix. 'Snoop'
passed last summer and I missed having a dog almost immediately but other family
members were reluctant to reinvest in the heartbreak of losing another family
member. They had good points, the expense of a new pet is considerable and can
run into thousands depending on how much you pay for the pup.
I had the answer, a rescue puppy! I announced that
I would have a new boat dog before Christmas and then I went to PetSmart on
Saturday where they have an adoption center and many rescue organizations bring
puppies. I fell in love with a mix breed litter of pups from an Indian
reservation. Suddenly my family decided I was serious and wanted in on the
decision. I picked out a white puppy but it was adopted before my family could
get there.
The family picked out a tan one and we were a dog
family once again. I would have a puppy for Christmas, hooray!
Under the category of "No Good Deed Goes
Unpunished" I shall relate this sad tale. After 4 days 'Max'
developed ParvoVirus and is in the hospital battling for his life. The white
dog, his litter mate, is already gone but we are very hopeful our pup will
survive. I know he will be a good boat dog if he does because he is so
intelligent. I'll keep you informed!
PS; MAX DIED CHRISTMAS DAY! THE WHOLE LITTER IS
GONE!
Boat Safe and buy Super Shipbottom Paint and save
money, time and work!
Boating is..... 12/15/07
by boatguy Ed
"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas,"
sang the carolers at the "Dead End Canal Yacht Club's" Christmas party recently.
We'd gathered at the Commodores' club house (garage, poolside and dockside) for
the official annual event following the Ft. Myers Beach boat parade.
Several members participated in the parade and we
all gathered at different watering holes to watch them glide passed with their
Christmas lights a blazing. What fun we had blowing our horns and whooping it
up! It's a great time of year for sure.
Boston Bob's nephew joined us this year. He's a 28
year old young man who served two tours in Iraq before leaving the Army six
months ago. When Bob introduced him to me he mentioned that I volunteered at the
Fort Myers VA Out Patient Clinic. He remarked that it was a nice thing to do and
I agreed with him, enough said I thought.
I lost track of him during the evening but finally
I came upon him sitting out on the dock staring down at the water. At first I
thought he was watching a Snook playing around the edge of the dock light's
shadow. "Is there a fish down there," I asked.
"No..... I wasn't paying attention," he said
apologetically. "They like to lay in the shadow and pick off small fish that
swim passed," I said.
He looked up at me as if I had said something bad
about his Mother but the look quickly disappeared. I wanted to apologize for the
hurtful remark but I didn't know what it was that I said? When he stood up he
seemed fine but a strange feeling came over me. I'd seen this before, he was too
quick to hide his true emotions.
"Not your kind of party, I suppose. The evening is
still young and there are a FEW hot spots in Fort Myers."
"I'm not much of a partier," he said and I
expected him to walk away but he didn't. "Would you tell me why you volunteer
for the VA?"
"They've been good to me and it's a way to give
back. I only drive to Miami a couple times a month to bring the troops over to
the hospital and then I Sheppard them around to the different clinics and try to
get them out of there quickly. There are more and more of us every month so that
cuts down on the runs," I babbled.
"I haven't heard many good things about the VA,"
the young man said while looking far off down the dark canal.
"It was a lot worse when I first got signed up
back in 1971 but it's still a work in progress. I guess it couldn't get much
worse so it had to get better. If you are thinking of taking advantage of their
service I think you'd be wise to sign up ASAP."
"There isn't anything really wrong with me...."
"It takes a while to get your feet set under
you..... but six months should have done it. Are you still feeling a little
disconnected, like nothing is really real or you can't make yourself happy? We
used to call PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) the thousand yard stare."
"That's not me really, believe me no f*#*ing way!"
"I'm not a very religious person but this holiday
is kind of like what returning soldiers often feel. Joseph and Mary were drafted
to go to Bethlehem. They didn't want to go but they went. It was a strange place
and the timing was bad because Mary was due to deliver Jesus any minute, their
means of travel was very crude and their TDY (temporary duty) barracks was just
like every TDY barracks....."
"That's funny, that is...."
"....strangers pop in at all hours, some loud and
obnoxious, some caring and friendly. Then the shit hits the fan and newborn
babies are getting killed all around and they have to leave in a hurry! I always
think of the Angel like the older service guys in the VA system. They are always
willing to point out the best way to get service from the system or tell you
when it's time to bug out," I said.
"Yeah, I guess they had it rough too," he said
with a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth.
"I'm not telling you to go join some VFW post and
smoke your brains out while you tell war stories and get drunk, there is plenty
of time for that later. I'm saying you should go to the VA to establish a
relationship that will last a life time. No matter what you think of the
military now or the people who sent you to Iraq, the VA can be your lifetime
care provider, if you need one!"
"You think I need one, huh?"
"I don't know but they can always use more
volunteers and it would be helping out your people. But first you have to get a
physical and stuff. It isn't hard just a little time consuming and you'd be
helping out a lot of people and maybe yourself...."
I didn't see him before he left but I really
believe that he will be alright not because of my little story but because he's
strong and proud.
Viet Nam was a politicians war and so is Iraq. I
think their legacies will be that both wars broke the Army and Marines. Send
questions and comments to boatguiEd@aol.com
Boating is...
12/08/07
by boatguy Ed
I received a blurb about the "Lapsed Angler
Program" from the Recreational Boating and Fishing Foundation (RBFF) and was
really intrigued. I am a mostly lapsed fisherman and I was hoping that they were
going to do something to bring me back to Fishing like increase the fish
population. Maybe stop the golf courses from allowing tons of fertilizers to
leech into the ground water and eventually into our fishing grounds.
It seems that anglers are less fanatical theses
days and a substantial decrease in fishing licenses has taken place in most
states. I decided to take a poll of the "Dead End Canal Yacht Club" to see if
what I suspected was really happening.
Last Saturday I went around the neighborhood and
inquired how the fishing had been from the members that I knew were die-hard
line wetters. "I didn't renew my license this year," said Cap'n Crunch, "and I
took all the gear off the boat just so I wouldn't be tempted. Next year I'll be
65 and then I'll be exempt. Now I fish in the canal and I'm saving a lot of
money."
Florida exempts residents from license fees if
they fish from shore or a structure like a pier attached to the shore or are 65
years or older. Check to see what your states requirements are.
"Don't tell anyone this but half the homeowners on
this leg of the canal are feeding the fish in the canal," said the Cap'n as we
walked back to his dock. "I buy little packages of frozen popcorn shrimp and I
come out here at night and turn on the dock lights and the Snook just flock to
my dock."
"Is that legal," I asked. "No problem they do it
in the Keys at Robbies Marina and I've seen it at restaurants along the waterway
on the east coast."
"You gave up fishing to feed the fish? Fascinating
idea but how does that help the conservation of our natural resources?"
Cap'n Crunch just chuckled, "Who's conserving our
resources? It ain't the developers who are destroying the wetlands or the golf
course builders who pollute our rivers with the fertilizers! It ain't the
politicians who allow long line boats in close to our shores to kill every
living thing that swims. Even the shrimpers and the charter guides do their
parts to tear up the sea grass and ruin the environment!" He'd stopped chucking
on the second word and was now tight lipped and flush.
"So you don't fish because there ain't anymore
fish?" He pointed to his shiny fishing boat sitting on his boat lift and smiled.
"It hasn't been in the water for two weeks and I'm not planning any trips before
we get back from Christmas up North!"
Around the neighborhood it was pretty much the
same. Boston Bob even had a breakdown of the cost of a single pound of fish and
it was startling. "Fuel, bait, beer and gear adds up fast! The longer it takes
to catch your limit the more it costs," Boston Bob said as he tried to force me
to look at his breakdown.
I refused to address the "price of fish" issue by
finally looking into the the abyss of hard facts and figures. We've all known
the truth but seeing them on paper could actually blind a delicate individual
such as myself. I kept pushing the paper away and finally out of desperation I
shouted, "You've failed to take into consideration the 'sport factor', fishing
is a SPORT!"
I hurried back to my house and locked myself in my
office. Facing the truth will shake the foundation of any belief. On my computer
I searched for the Recreational Boating and Fishing Foundation (RBFF) hoping
that their "Lapsed Angler" program would reinstate my confidence in fishing.
Headlines popped up all over the net declaring state after state joining in the
program but after a short search I couldn't find many coastal states joining in.
Maybe there isn't anyway to fix the saltwater
fishing, I thought. So I read the website and discovered that this program was
really intended to get lapsed anglers to renew their fishing licenses. It hit me
like a lead balloon! This wasn't about making fishing better or easier but
keeping revenue flowing into the coffers of state agencies.
"We use the revenue to manage the environment,"
one state official was quoted as saying. I'm sure that the drop in licenses
directly impacts his budget. That is a WONDERFUL concept; tying budgets to
performance! I believe that all state and federal agencies should do that
because it would benefit we taxpayers and actually benefit the agencies as well.
Therefore I will renew my saltwater fishing
license when it expires because this is an idea I want to see succeed! I hope
you do too! Boat Safe!
Send questions and comments to boatguiEd@aol.com
Boating is.....
12/03/07
by boatguy Ed
A potential member of the "Dead End Canal Yacht
Club" came very near to destroying several neighbors boats a few days ago. He
used his throttles to help him swing his new 36 foot power boat around to line
it up with the slip. There was no tide, not much wind to speak of and no reason
to hurry the turn but that is what he tried to do.
"Using throttles is like trying to console your
wife after a bad hair cut. It's going to get out of control no matter how many
times you say, 'it doesn't look that bad'," said Power Squadron Wayne. He should
know because he teaches several seamanship courses. "We've all done it and it
only takes once to convince us that it isn't right!"
The potential member and I say potential because
just living on the right canal doesn't necessarily mean automatic inclusion into
the club, was very apologetic about scaring his neighbors. "Dumbest thing I've
seen in a long time," said Captain Crunch in a moment of inner reflection.
"We've all made a boo boo but he just kept making
it," said Boston Bob twirling his hand imitating the Tilt-A-Whirl motion of the
newbies boat as he tried to over correct the over correction. Around and around
he went.
"I've got to get a bow thruster," shouted the
newbie after he finally settled down and managed to get his almost brand new
boat into his slip. The newbie's 'significant other' was so embarrassed that she
put a towel over head when she got off the boat.
On our next happy hour outing we surprised the
couple and they couldn't escape. "Hey it happens to a lot of new boaters," I
said when I saw the extreme embarrassment on the young woman's face.
"I won't go out with him again," she said
adamantly! So he owned the boat for a little over two weeks and his 'significant
other' is so turned off by his actions that she won't set foot on it! What a
shame but totally understandable because women aren't usually nautically
inclined unless they grew up in a nautical household.
I'll never forget my wife's reaction one day
during a sunfish sail when we were honeymooning in Ft. Lauderdale a zillion
years ago. After a brisk ride down wind and a little lunch on a secluded beach I
was her hero husband. Then we sailed up wind into a stiffening breeze. Halfway
back she said to me, "Stop that!"
"Stop what," I asked! "Stop making the water
splash up on me," she replied. I tried to convince her that I wasn't making the
cool water splash on her. It was just part of sailing in a low free board open
boat upwind that was making the water splash on her. Nothing I said made the
slightest bit of difference I was quickly turning into the biggest louse on the
planet!
I offered to put her ashore for a 3/4 of a mile
walk along the beach to the resort but she wasn't talking to me by then so no
rely was forthcoming. Out of desperation I switched places with her, handed her
the tiller and calmly instructed her on how to steer the boat. I found out that
she was a natural sailor on that day. She really enjoyed the rest of the sail
especially when I winced at the splashing chilly water and she is still a good
helms-woman today.
I told the little story to the newbies
'significant other' and she laughed a little but the fear was still in her eyes.
"I hope you're not suggesting that I drive that damned boat?"
"That's exactly what I am suggesting only I think
that both of you should take the two to five day (depending on experience)
powerboat handling course at the Chapman's School of Seamanship in Stuart,
Florida. They will make both of you proficient in docking, turning, backing down
and a whole lot more. It ain't cheap but it is exactly what you both need," I
said.
"Why should I go, he's the one that can't handle
his own boat," she said while squirming around in her chair.
"Because now is the time to find out if you'll be
walking the beach or staying on board and knowing the ins and outs will make you
comfortable and knowledge might save both of your lives one day," I said.
http://www.chapman.org/
Will they go? I really don't know because the cost
is well over a thousand dollars for two but I believe if they go it will be the
best boating money they'll ever spend. Boat Safe and keep reading my babbling!
Boating is...
11/27/07
by boatguy Ed
Column suggestions at the bar; I ran into the 'Pymatuning
Princess' at a favorite watering hole the other evening. "Why don't you do a
column about the boaters who refused to let two swimming people into their boat
after a boat explosion threw them into the water," she said excitedly.
"No one will believe it," I said. She proceeded to
quote from a story a local weekly tabloid style newspaper about the slightly
singed former owners of the burned and sunk 24 foot powerboatt. It seems that a
boat stopped near the burning vessel but refused to allow the couple to board
their vessel because they feared they would overload the boat.
Reportedly these ignorant individuals aboard the
non-rescuing vessel even ordered the para-medics not to board their boat but the
paramedics 'took charge and ordered the stubborn boaters to take them to a dock
and a waiting ambulance.'
"Won't that make a great column," the Princess
insisted.
When I hesitated she started pushing the idea of
safe boating and good Samaritan-ship and helping other boaters. "From what
you're telling me there wasn't one competent boater on the scene except maybe
the coast guard," I said.
"I don't write columns about Chinese fire drills
because where would I start? The recently fueled powerboat that probably had
fuel in the bilge before they left their dock or the owner of the non-rescuing
powerboat with 8 people aboard who was afraid that rescuing two more people
would sink their boat or the center console powerboat that came to the rescue
but didn't have a ladder on board to facilitate the rescue or the floundering
couple who didn't know where their life jackets were?"
"I still think there are many lessons to be
learned," she continued to insist. Since she is such a loyal reader I decided to
include the solution into this column, drum roll please.... TAKE A SAFE BOATING
COURSE! There, I hope you're satisfied and keep reading!
From an e-mail; Dear boatguy, have you ever had
thanksgiving dinner aboard your boat, (signed) Tennessee Tom?
Dear Tom; yes I have but I don't plan on doing it
this year because the price of fuel would force me to choose between the bird
and the gas it takes to run the boat far enough to enjoy the day. many years ago
our family went out and dined on take-away Turkey dinners that were made ever
more delicious by the calm bouncing of our anchored boat and the envious stares
of the condo commandos looking down upon us from up high.
There are many things we boaters can be thankful
for and many of us will celebrate Turkey Day with gusto but not all of us. I
don't believe you could find many thankful boat salesmen or boat yard workers
these days. Anyone who works directly in the boat business feels very vulnerable
right now. But this always happens, it's just natures way of getting the car
salesmen out of the boating industry!
Dear Know-it-all; Why don't you tell all your
readers that you don't really know it all and put our minds at ease. (signed)
Angry!
Yes, Angry I do come across a little high handed
from time to time but it's mostly out of frustration when I encounter numb
skulls like the three boaters in the beginning of this column. What other hobby
could we take so lightly as most new boaters do? You wouldn't take up flying an
airplane without instructions or even ride a motorcycle without a license. Way
to many people feel supremely confidant while plunking down a few hundred bucks
and signing away several hundreds of dollars every month on a boat.
No instructions beyond how to turn it on and how
to shift from neutral to forward and possibly forward to reverse. They take
children and grandchildren and friends along on a dangerous journey into
un-charted regions without any knowledge of their environment. That is what
pisses me off and makes me sound high hated. Boat Safe, ya'll!
| 
Super Shipbottom
