“Government wheels are rolling, and the demand is bigger than the supply. I could really use your help. I’m a research scientist, not a corporate CEO.”
#FX #Sailing #Caribbean #Travel #Cruise #Islands #Aging #Alzheimer’s #Memory #Health #Extending Life #Research #Medical #Romance #Love #Sex #Hurricane #Florida #Currency #Family #Longevity #Adventure #Medical
Are you sure he was dead?” “Oh, yes. I checked him. I have never seen that much blood.” “What is in the package, Doc?” We all leaned over the desk. There were several minutes of complete silence. “It is life everlasting… or the end of the world… I’m really not sure.”
The island of St. Croix is in the path of a large hurricane.
Louis Bautista can’t get a flight off-island, so he takes a suggested alternative to wait it out in Barbados.
Redhead Celia Judel brings in a 46’ Najad sailboat by herself, after her husband dies at sea of a heart attack. She needs a captain to help deliver the yacht back to South Carolina and Louis needs to get back to Florida.
On the voyage home, they go ashore in St. Croix and after a romantic dinner, Louis leads Celia into a dark alley and begins seducing her.
A native man runs into the alley. They hear men chasing him, and he throws a small package to the lovers. The men follow him into the alley and shoot him several times. The package, they discover later, holds the secret to life everlasting. Longue Durée.
The author, David Alexander, is truly a sailor, now living in Florida, building yacht interiors. He has lived in St. Croix and sailed throughout the Caribbean islands. His experiences lend a lot of real-life situations to this manuscript.
NOTE: From David Alexander
Longue Duree, (Extending life), Is ,so far, a three book set. Each book has a beginning, and an end. I hate cliff-hangers. Book one is back from the editor, I have approved all of her changes, and at present I am preparing it to go into Amazon’s inventory. This is the actual cover. I created it at the last minute after years of being satisfied with another.
I will notify all of my followers when it is live, with an Amazon link.
#FX #Sailing #Caribbean #Travel #Cruise #Islands #Aging #Alzheimer’s #Memory #Health #Extending Life #Research #Medical #Romance #Love #Sex #Hurricane #Florida #Currency #Family #Longevity #Adventure #Medical #Hurricane
There is still something special here. A magic pheromone in the air that slightly alters your DNA… permanently.
(All photos taken by me with a Motorola Droid Turbo cell phone)
This is the view this morning from my patio. I sleep well with the sound of the waves just a hundred feet away. It has been a long time since I stayed ashore on St. Croix. Over the years, we have anchored in Christiansted, and only ventured in as far as we could walk. Today I am at sea-level, but used to live on the top of a mountain on the east end, with a view of the north and south shores.
Just like returning to the home you grew up in, everything here, also feels smaller. Yesterday I went into town to see what had changed, and buy a new snorkel. I was amazed at how many shops were not only closed, but stripped to the walls. I talked to several people that had been here most of their lives, and they knew the answers I asked about shops and people that had moved on.
Up and down this boardwalk, and sometimes as far as Gallows Bay, is my normal hang-out space when I am here. This visit, I have an apartment on the NE shore and a rental car. Driving on the left, kicked back in, almost instantly. I went into town early and found that many of the shops didn’t open until noon.
On the internet, I have read about gangs, shootings, and escalated crime. I confirmed that there are such problems, but in my time back on-island, I have only met friendly people, still waving out their window to let me into traffic, and have not yet encountered the resentment that has often been displayed against tourists. I have drove through school bumbler-bumper traffic, tracked down and bought computer supplies, shopped for groceries, and walked all the streets of C’sted and F’sted. I have an advantage over most non-residents, I used to live here and know the areas to avoid. In the past, your best protection was common sense.
This morning, I thought that I would like to see what is left of that house on the mountain. Since the castle was built on the properties above it, it was confusing finding it.
After the reality-trip of seeing the house, I went down the south side of the mountain toward Grape Tree Bay. I used to snorkel that reef almost every day. Going west, I passed grassy point, that now has a house on it, and saw this beautiful view that I had forgotten.
Many years ago, I pulled my car off the side of the road, at the bottom of this hill, gathered my snorkel gear, and proceeded to march through the ground-cover height brush that covered the hillside down to the water. After about twenty-feet, I felt terrible pain in my flat feet. I looked down to see my blood pouring from my flip-flops. All of the ground cover was a very stiff creeping cactus. I pulled the flip-flop away from my foot and the blood ran harder. I had no choice but to walk back out, with each step perforating my feet. (Memories… got side tracked.)
There is still something special here. A magic pheromone in the air that slightly alters your DNA… permanently. I escaped here when I was in college. Four-hundred dollars was a round trip ticket. Any time life became more then I could handle, I came here. Even when I am sailing, I often end up here. Most of my friends from those years have moved on, but the pheromones still find me and call me back.
#StCroix #Vacation #GoingHome #DavidAlexander #Islands #Christiansted #USVI
#Hurricane #Crucian #Cruzan #Beach #RentalCar #Travel #nature #research #Cruise #LongueDuree #ExtendedLife
The music was loud, the Heineken was cold, and the fans were blowing on a hot Florida afternoon. I am a cabinetmaker too!
Above is the new galley table I built for my sailboat. The original was ugly, and I was always hitting my knees and feet against the pedestal trying to get in or out of the tight sitting area. I have photos of how I built it, so I thought I would show you a bit of the carpenter in David Alexander.
I planed down an adequate supply of Sepele and Wenge that I had been hiding on my shelves. I applied a coat of polyurethane to see the color on a test piece. I cut a piece of teak plywood to the size required to drop between the seating, allowing me to have a third sleeping area on this sailboat. In the future, I found that this area had better ventilation and made a much larger bed. It became the TV pit since I had a large flat panel TV on the opposing wall.
Using Titebond III glue, I started by doing my layout on the plywood, started in the center, and worked my way out, using a pin nailer to secure the pieces to the plywood. The surface and all contact points were secured with glue. Each ring of wood was allowed to dry before the next ring was added.
I did this project in my garage. The music was loud, the Heineken was cold, and the fans were blowing on a hot Florida afternoon. As you can see from the above photo. the wood hides its beauty at this stage.
I thinned the first coat as a sealer and sanded it to a glassy smooth. Sepele is easy to work with but Wenge requires control and patience. It works like stringy oak and will blow apart if your router moves too fast. The end results are worth it. I plan to build my new office out of Wenge. After several more coats of finish, sanding between each coat, it produced the table in my boat.
A pedestal? I still have Sepele on the workbench. I have an idea! I cut the angles into the Sepele and glued all but one side with Titebond III. I added Sepele trim pieces to the top and bottom after cutting the pedestal to my required height.
The top and bottom plywood pieces are identical size with rubber T-edge, as edgebanding.
In the end, the height of the rubber edging, when the pedestal is laid on its side, is the exact height between the floor and the bottom of the table top, when the table is dropped to seat level. The side cushions fill in and make a comfortable bed with added support under the table top.
The floor and table top have recessed threads on the top and bottom. I found big bolts with rubber coated handles to soften the accidental contact with bare feet. You can barely see the knobs in the following photo.
The pedestal had a hidden door? Many of the islands I visit have issues with piracy. A Mossberg 12GA shotgun with marine-coat, fits right into the pedestals quick release mounts.
If I get much response from this post, I may add an additional page and start posting my many, many, projects. I am, a cabinet-maker too.
#Cabinetry #Cabinet Maker #Woodworking #Carpentry #Carpenter #Sailboat #Boat #Transportation #Refit #Rebuild
Phantom smelling of cigarette smoke, burning wires, or something rotting, is common.
Many, many, years ago, I played guitar in a rock band. Our band never got beyond the small bars so I’m sure you never heard of us. We argued all the time, fought over girls, and wanted to become big rock stars by… tomorrow. The world had not been educated yet… into the dangers of cigarette smoke, and all of the other things that followed the night life. I remember nights that the smoke was so thick, I couldn’t see the bartender, or the people at their tables. I closed my eyes from the smoke, and learned to control the coughing. I never developed the desire for cigarettes, but would do anything… to play my music.
Now, 2019, I still don’t smoke, and have a closet full of guitars that I haven’t played in ten years. I know, I can’t believe it either.
Through my life, I have had a few major career changes. I was a finish carpenter in new construction, then I became the vice-president of a construction company, and now I build yacht interiors for a Florida company that sells them for $5.4M each.
Even with that resume, what I derive the most pleasure from is writing. It also pays the least. BUT… that’s not what this post is about! I started typing tonight to tell you about a strange condition I have acquired. The above history lesson is my way of searching for straws in my past.
For a few weeks now, I have been occasionally smelling cigarette smoke. I still don’t smoke, but many of the guys I work with do. I assumed that having to walk through their break area three times a day, or having them with me with their smoke saturated clothes, had rubbed off on me and was just an occupational hazard. I could smell the smoke at my workbench, in my truck, and even in my land home. Again, I assumed that the odor was following me, from my association with smokers. This weekend, I was on my sailboat. I had fresh clothes on and there has never been a cigarette on my boat. I could smell it down inside my boat, which eliminated passerbys on the dock. The other component is that I don’t always… smell it. Even at work it comes and goes. This is driving me crazy, and no-one else was smelling what I described.
I Googled it! “Happy Day!” There were hundreds of people asking the same questions that I had. I spent hours reading the threads, comments, and analysis of doctors and ENT’s. I am not crazy!
“It’s called Phantosmia.
Phantom smelling of cigarette smoke, burning wires, or something rotting, is common and is nothing to be alarmed about. Often, the problem will go away on its own, and in some cases, it has been cured by antibiotics inhaled as a nose spray. I suspected that mine may have been a sinus infection because months ago, whenever I sneezed, I could smell mold. The environment I work in supplies multiple sources for a sinus infection.
If the smell issue remains for a long period of time, you should consult an ENT or neurologist to take your condition to the next level. One of the more serious things that can create the same symptoms is a brain tumor. A tumor that creates the illusion of smell would be located in the temporal lobe. This also interests me because I had a severe injury to my skull when I was a kid. A punch… (Different story), to the side of my head caused a blood clot the size of my fist. Surgery was performed after removing ALL OF MY HAIR… and multiple therapies began. This was also the end of my rock-star fantasy when a young nurse brought me my hair in a brown grocery bag, and left me to figure out that I was shaved beneath my bandages. Again… I am getting off the subject.
Several of the reports that I read on-line said that they were getting an MRI of their brain to check this possibility. There are other things that cause phantom smells such as a stroke, seizure, or epilepsy. Some people are not aware that they have had one of these conditions. Even if one of these disorders are benign, the smell problem can still be present. In any event, it sounds to me like a warning to find a specialist and have it checked out.
NOW! I am not a Doctor. As I stated, the information here was collected from the internet in an attempt to research my own problem. I welcome any input or suggestions and strongly suggest that you do your own research and don’t base your conclusion on any of my research.
Leave me a comment… tell me how you have dealt with a phantom-smell… or send me an email. Add “I smell smoke” to the title so I don’t think it’s spam.
AND, FOLLOW my blog. I have a book that will be out soon… I hope. The editor has had it now for six weeks. It is a fiction, but tells of a man who learned how to reverse his age and stay young indefinitely. I’ll send a notice when it’s available. It’s called Longue’ Duree, if the editor hasn’t changed that too.
#medical #Health #Boat #Yacht #Carpentry Cigarette, #research #Medical #RocknRoll #LongHair #sailing #Smell #Odor #
The money here is Colones. When we arrived in CR, I changed a couple hundred dollars worth of American dollars for Colones. It looked like we robbed a bank.
It was a few years ago, but I wanted to see Costa Rica. During this period I was writing under a different pen-name, and the book had a lot of content and characters from this country. When we landed, we followed the lines into customs and stood in the humidity and heat of the biggest ceiling fan I had ever seen. Birds flew over our head since the high metal ceiling had no walls. I hailed a taxi to take use to the resort and detoured to the Avis rental car business on the way.
I was pleased when I arrived. It had flowing fabric blowing with the breeze, wicker chairs in the open reception area, walkways of natural earth materials, and gardening that looked immaculately original.
We had rented a Subaru station wagon with all wheel drive, and that proved to be one of the best decisions we made. The roads, once you got off of the main road, were rough. I could add a dozen adjectives for rough, but you will see in some of the following photos.
There were full size busses that transported many of the local people. During the time we stayed in Costa Rica, we learned to pick up hitchhikers. In the U.S. we have been taught to keep driving past them. Here, many people walk or get rides for an hour or two to go to work and then at the end of the day catch a ride… or walk back. Their pay scale is still years behind the U.S. so the rides, tourist trade, and tips are very appreciated.
In my second book, Amaretto with Coffee, the main character fell in love with a girl who worked at Avis. By the end of the book, he had moved her family from Limon, CR, to Florida. It was surprising when the book came out. Costa Rica Star called and interviewed me for their paper. A coffee shop in CR emailed me for permission to market the book.
Shopping in Costa Rica was limited. Clothes and hand-made items are in abundance. If you buy gold and gems when you travel, your selection here is on the edge of zero. We found food in the area we were in, and the prices were comparable to the U.S. Below I am returning to the apartment, buried in the seclusion of the garden areas.
If I walked a hundred yards out of the above photos, I would be staring at the ocean. Teak chairs and tables were scattered into various shady areas with beautiful views. I took the top photo, and the others, with a Canon camera. The wi-fi to my apt. was weak, but adequate for checking my email. Several times I would go sit by the receptionist desk to send a larger file.
As we explored, the above scene was not uncommon.We just stopped in the road, sat quietly, and passed when the cattle were clear. This empty road, will be bumper to bumper traffic at quitting time. Horns will be tooting and music played loudly as outstretched hands wave at a friend in the other lane. We visited several towns and usually found a parking place and walked.
During the entire vacation, we never felt pressured, or in danger, in fact… we found ourselves walking to various bars after dark for dinner. Some were so frequented by us, that the waiter would have a cold Pilsner Beer in his hand when he seated us. We always got the table with the ocean view. From the pictures you can see that it rained a lot in November. We just stayed under a covered area with the locals until it stopped.
While in town, we saw a Burger King. The urge for American junk-food peaked and we walked inside. The money here is Colones. When we arrived in CR, I changed a couple hundred dollars worth of American dollars for Colones. It looked like we robbed a bank. Notice the price of a fast lunch. At first it shocked me, but not as bad as when I filled up the gas tank on the car. There were not enough zeros on the gas pumps and every fill up was totaled with a calculator.
Before I started writing, and building interiors for large yachts, I was a home builder. While talking to a hitch-hiker one day, we got on the subject. He told me that an American builder came to CR with the intent to build homes in the mountains, and went bankrupt. The mountain was still for sale, and I had to go look. This road led up the mountain, abruptly turned, and you were staring at a traditional guard shack and fancy stucco entrance to what appeared as a gated community. We continued, to find twenty or thirty graded lots with the roads also ready to pave. The water supply was in place and every lot had an ocean view. I was excited. After days of crunching numbers, checking local building talent, and speculating on American buyers moving to my mountain, I decided that Costa Rica was not quite ready for my development.
I may go back to Costa Rica some day. For now, I think I will sell my sailboat, and build on to my little east Florida land home.
In May and June we will be back in St. Croix. We are going to fly this time, and see if I still have a job in Florida when I get back. My next three books spend a lot of time in St. Croix, and I have a hangup with being accurate and current even though it is fiction. I’ve been to a lot of islands and countries but St. Croix is like a bad drug. It has been constantly on my mind since I lived there. Hind site… I should have never left. Getting older now, I’ll keep the house in Florida and rent it out if I find myself with the island addiction again.
Please… follow the blog… for the release date of Longue Duree 1, 2, and 3.
They can each be read individually, but are better as a set. They start in St. Croix. Living forever has its drawbacks.
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#CostaRica #Vacation #Book #Travel #ExtendingLife #FountainOfYouth #Automotive #Sailing #Romance #Publishing #Wordpress #Family #Wedding #Murder #Sex #Wealth #Tico #CostaRicaStar
“It is life everlasting… or the end of the world… I’m really not sure.”
It all started here.
In this alley on the island of St. Croix, an island lab tech is murdered in the street after he throws a small package to Louis. He didn’t know at the time, but the contents had the ability to reduce your age, and keep you there, indefinitely.
Louis was a world currency trader and sailor. As long as he had an internet connection, he had income. He was evading a hurricane and flew to Barbados until it passed. A woman’s husband died of a heart attack while sailing their custom-designed yacht. Louis agreed to sail her and her boat back to the United States. He knew nothing of the pharmaceuticals that he carried in the package, and in book one, wasn’t worried about his age. He took the package to Dr. Bernstein’s research lab to discover what he had.
“What is in the package Doc?” We leaned over the desk. There were several minutes of complete silence.
“It could be life everlasting… or the end of the world… I’m really not sure.”
FOLLOW, this site and I will notify you when the first of a three book set is available. All three are finished and book one is with a professional editor.
#FX #Sailing #Caribbean #Travel #Cruise #Islands #Aging #Alzheimer’s #Memory #Health #Extending Life #Research #Medical #Romance #Love #Sex #Hurricane #Florida #Currency #Family #Longevity #Adventure #Medical
I left the cabinet shop at the yacht factory after a hot day of doing things over. The partially visible hinges between the doors and the jams were not perfectly spaced. They wanted them to show 50/50 in case someone took a flashlight and checked the dark space between. There were three SOS hinges on each of nine doors.
The Alpi veneer on one side of a finished door had been damaged and had to be sanded off and re-veneered. This required me sanding with 80 grit sandpaper for two hours, then leaving the door and veneer overnight in the vacuum table.
A cedar wardrobe that went into the starboard stateroom was complete, except for the missing door and trim for the front. I pushed it aside until the walnut arrives and started on another wardrobe that was also missing the walnut parts.
After the standard ten-hour day, I laid my thumbprint on the timeclock and ducked out of the side door to my 2006 pickup. I waved at the guard at the guard-shack and sped through the traffic of 528. I exited onto Courtenay and zoomed north toward Kennedy Space Center. The radar detector was working fine. I had a 5:00 appointment with the cable company at my land home to check the cables to my high-speed modem.
As I came to the light at 405, I smelled antifreeze. My truck was running hot and as I passed the intersection, the steam came through the hood and across my windshield. I sat puzzled for a second as the steam came through the dash vents of my A/C. I opened the windows, turned off the outside air, and popped the hood.
The hose that went into the heater core had broken.
My adrenalin was peaking and I pulled the tools from behind the seat and removed the clamps. Between the hose on the heater core, and the hose to the engine, was a cheap plastic part that had a small fitting for service. The front of the plastic part was still in the hose and I ungracefully dug it out in pieces with needle nose pliers. With my hands bleeding, I tried to push it over a flange that was just a little too big. I laid my cell phone on the fender and pressed my mechanic’s number.
“Yeah David, if you pull the rest of the hose fitting off, you should be able to push the long hose onto the heater core tubing! If it doesn’t work, call me back and I’ll send a wrecker.”
“Okay! Thanks Tony.”
I managed to get the other clamp off that was recessed back against the firewall, with other hoses inconveniently around it.
Space-X, had just released their employees and cars were zooming by in a hurricane evacuation type frenzy. I laid the broken plastic part in the floor of the truck and resumed pushing the hose onto the BRASS fitting of the core. I had to use a screwdriver to push the clamp back far enough, but finally had it secure.
“My appointment! I have a 5:00 appointment!” I hit the button for my service provider.
“If you are calling to pay your bill press…”
“If you would like to change the services on your account press or say…”
“If you are calling for technical assistance press three.”
THREE… I pressed three!
“Please press one, for English… Press two for Spanish…”
ONE… damb it! English!
“Thank you… your estimated wait time is…”
AAaaahhhh! I pressed zero… and zero… and zero…
“Spectrum-Brighthouse, how can I assist you?”
“Look! I am on the side of a busy road with a broken-down truck. My hands are covered in grease, antifreeze and blood, and I have a rather large alligator that wonders if my legs may taste like chicken. I have a 5:00 appointment at my home with your service rep. and it appears that I will not be there.”
“Is this the account associated with the number showing on my caller ID?”
He was laughing and snickering. “Don’t worry sir. I wall take care of it.”
Fortunately, I had been working on my sailboat last week and had all of the fairing compound, primer, sandpaper, and related tools in the back. (My truck has a fiberglass shell.) I cleaned the blood, and antifreeze off of my hands, and took out a five gallon bucket to dip replacement water from the nature reserve.
“Crap!” I stared at a big gator. He stared at me. I walked further away from him, and got some water, as we watched each other closely. He leisurely swam toward me. I added the water to the trucks plastic reservoir and drove home watching the temperature gauge all of the way. I relaxed when I pulled in the driveway.
I took a quick shower and popped the cap on a cold Heineken. I pulled the handle on the recliner and pushed the Netflix option on the remote. It downloaded a movie, started, and kicked back to antenna TV. After doing this over and over, I went to my home-office and turned on the computer. No Netflix, no Twitter, no WordPress, no Pinterest, and only old email, from eight mailboxes.
Long drink… deep breath… and started running through the tests on the modem. In the end, the Tampa server was down, and I was exhausted. I remembered that it was a full moon… and went to bed.
#wordpress #gator #alligator #Brokedown #overheated #travel #Florida #MerrittIsland #AutoRepair #Bait #RocketLaunch #Space-X #NASA #NatureReserve
I idled into the fog and almost broadsided a dark blue sloop. We were within a few feet of the passing boats and I could see ours ahead.
We sailed into Abaco not realizing that it was so shallow. When the depth indicator started beeping and I could see the shadow of the sail on the bottom, the time to relax was over. My boat has a 5′-8″ keel which cuts into the wind very nicely. It does however require a little studying of the tide tables when coming ashore. It was an hour or so after lunch, and my first mate had located an interesting place to drop the hook and spend the night. Ahead, was a sandbar that extended into the path of my present tack. I played the strong wind like a game of chess. Tighten the sails, pull tighter into the wind… adjust for a shift in the wind… get it back… almost there… almost dead into the wind! CRUNCH!
We ran aground on what my navigator identified as Porgee Rock. I quickly started the diesel, left the sails full for the keel angle, and by some miracle… backed it out. The sails were whipping back and forth and I released the tension from the main sheet and furled the head sail. We motored into deeper water. (Not a lot deeper.) We dropped the anchor, fixed an overdue lunch, and took a long nap.
I didn’t want to be sitting out here overnight, so I motored toward a big red and white light-house. “This is Hopetown.” said my first-mate, “It says the channel is 6′ deep at low tide. We should have no problem since we are mid-tide.”
“Good enough.” I stayed in the darker water until I was on a lineup approach to the channel. I idled slowly watching to stay in the deepest areas. The channel was narrow with no room to reverse course. Passing a boat leaving the harbor would be really tight. About the time I was standing at the helm, leaning from the bimini to see the full lighthouse… CRUNCH! The boat was still moving but was cutting a trench in the soft sand bottom. I revved the diesel and continued pushing. The water became deeper and I came around the curve toward the bay. There were only a few boats in the bay so I found a comfortable spot, dropped the hook, and let the chain run out until I felt the anchor grab. We secured the sails, put a snubber on the anchor chain, and dropped the RIB into the water. We took the dinghy to the south side and walked on the small roads into a residential area. A small boy walked beside us and kept looking at the tall American with a beard. I glanced down and saw a bent piece of wood that he was carrying like a gun.
“What is that?” I asked
“It’s my gun!”
“GUN!” I put my hands up. “What are you going to do with a gun?”
“Shoot you!” He laughed.
“If you try to shoot me… I’ll have to put you in jail.”
The boy was confused and looked at me for a while. “Sir… what is a jail?”
While we continued walking, we talked to a few other people… adults… and found in fact they didn’t have a jail. On the way back to the boat, we saw what looked like a large shed. Inside was a gulf-cart fully outfitted for fire-fighting. On the glass of the door it said. “In case of fire, get the keys from the grocery across the street.”
Safely back on the boat, we took another nap and woke as the sun was setting. More sailors had anchored around us and we could hear laughter from a bar on the docks. We grabbed our money, a few towels for the dinghy, and all of our old paperbacks to trade for new ones. We headed for the dock.
We walked into the bar and found a table along the wall. Several people had ordered before us, so we had several drinks before our food arrived. We ate, talked, laughed, and yelled across the bar at a Canadian captain that was making jokes about Americans. More drinks were served and we sat picking at our Dirty Bird Pie.
It was late. Anyone with family was already gone. We paid the tab, picked up our cloth bag of paperbacks, and checked to make sure the keys were still in my pocket. Normally, when we return to the boat, we have to sort through the tangled knots of 10 or 15 dinghies to find ours. Tonight there were only two or three. The bar lights illuminated the dock, but out in the mooring area a thick fog had settled.
I motored slowly toward the fog. The masts of the sailboats looked like a forest of dead trees. The rotating light of the lighthouse gave us a short glimpse of the hulls shrouded below them.
“I have to pee.”
“Good grief! You couldn’t have taken care of that at the bar?”
“I didn’t have to pee at the bar. Hurry up.”
I idled into the fog and almost broadsided a dark blue sloop. We were within a few feet of the passing boats and I could see ours ahead. I went past the stern, flipped the outboard to do a 180 deg. turn and brought it to a stop against the scoop like a pro. While I tied off, Ayrn left everything on the dinghy and jumped onto the sailboat. I started gathering up the books, the towels, and a pair of heels.
“David.” She whispered.
“Is this our boat?” Her eyes were wide open, and her sobriety had returned. I glanced down at the name on the transom. About that time…
“HEY, I HAVE A GUN!”
“Shit!” Both of us started laughing and as she fumbled back into the dingy, I started the motor and got away from that, boat. We cruised up and down the mooring field, from one boat to the next, reading all of the names and laughing. We finally found ours. By the time I got out of the head, Ayrn was already asleep.
We decided to spend another day in Hopetown and have dinner in the bar again the following night.
The music was loud, the voices were loud, and the Heineken was flowing. “YEAH! Last night some drunk sailor came aboard my boat after midnight and pissed in my cockpit.”
Ayrn and I just smiled across the table.
#Islands #Sailing #Transportation #Bar #Hopetown #Weather #Aground #Drunk #Bahamas #Lighthouse #Adventure #Boat #Vacation