Thursday, Dec 30th:
Talk about that slow boat to China - something's up with this computer, and it's not speed - this is when you usually make some remark about the moon phase in relation to my Taurus designation - which is a nice segway into your Anna Karenina race question, which I was coincidentally just discussing today with Tom - I was wondering whether it counts if I wait until I'm back at one of those lower ICW miles (i.e., Beaufort - NC or SC) and then claim my winnings - and not that I'm competing, but before you declare victory, I'm on page 381 (which is in the midst of a 3 page paragraph) - I guess you must have lots of time on your hands to enjoy reading...and by the by...I thought you'd like to enjoy some more positive feedback on our website collaborative - Tina (OYA) mentioned that the Fernandina passage brought her to tears (in a good way) and Brenda (my ICW friend) said it was the website she wished she created.
Again somewhat related to speed, we made arrangements to head to Miami with another boater the one who was following us when we were sinking fast – unfortunately, he was running late – imagine that, a slow sailboat – anyway, we did make it to “southern New York” – as we tried to listen to marine radio weather information between the ensuing heated right-of-way argument – to which we learned that the 8 foot waves were actually caused by the closely passing cigarette boat named “Blaster,” painted with a colorful Indian along its entire side. So I guess we’ve entered what Jerry Seinfeld affectionately refers to the 3rd corner of the Jewish Bermuda triangle: Long Island, Manhattan, and Miami. Actually, it was pretty cool having coconuts float by as we sailed in turquoise water the color of the photos on those sailing calendars – hmm, maybe its the calendars that capture the colors of nature. And guess who we glimpsed upon our arrival? Yes, we’re on the path of Lunatics again, in a manner of speaking, of course.
It looks like we’ll be taking an airplane (with those frequent flyer miles) – we are not allowed to depart on one cruise ship and return months later on another one. We may be waiting here awhile since this weather front (averaging 20 mph winds) has stalled – the same forecast is predicted day after day after day – so I’ll be around to receive that Weekly Reader shipment, possibly for weeks.
How are you ringing in the new year? We haven’t made any “resolution” yet about our plans.
doing the South Beach stroll
now where did I park my dinghy, Tom wonders after doing the grocery shopping
Mirror, mirror on the water
Saturday, Jan 1st:
Yee-ha! Whoopee! Splash! Pass the Asti Spumanti! Pass the spumoni! Yes, those are the raucous New Year’s Eve exclamations coming from the Missa Gaia party ship. Of course, I’m the only one still awake.
And here it is…
Skipper Bob’s top 10 ways to celebrate New Year’s Eve:
Party with Madonna’s imposter in Miami’s South Beach.
Strategically place ant traps in the cockpit.
Create witty Skipper Bob’s top 10 list.
Play Go Fish.
Build a Lego Times Square ball.
Tie nautical knots in everyone’s sneakers’ laces.
Read Moby Dick.
Define vague terms like “employment.”
Take turns locating unused boat space.
And finally…
Sing Auld Lang Syne to the tune of Popeye the Sailor Man
Syned,
Ellen
P.S. 2005 New Year’s resolution – do not create painful Skipper Bob’s Top 10 List.
Tom was visiting boats (this time not with a trick or treat bag) to see who was going to the Bahamas, and when, and how (excluding ferries and planes). It seemed like some were going to take advantage of a relatively calmer 2 day window, starting Wednesday night - but when we checked further, the winds will be east and still 15 mph - not great. However, if we don't go soon, we'll have to restock our food stock - which we keep breaking into (i.e., cookies). Speaking of stocking up, the grocery store has this painted yellow line on the sidewalk that somehow locks the shopping carts wheels, so as to prevent them from rolling into traffic while parked, as boaters cross the street to the ICW dinghy area - all we need now is a "cruisers crossing" highway sign. Tom listens to the single side band radio as I type this, trying to glean weather information - but it mostly sounds like we're being invaded by aliens, although they prefer not to travel in east winds either. Now we're listening to a BBC Einstein broadcast, which is very interesting, RELATIVELY speaking.
- Gustaf Lindborg
The sailor doesn't ask for less wind, she cashes in her frequent flyer miles.
-Ellen
- Grim Hairy Tales -
Sunday, Jan 9th:
Once upon a time the Missa Gaia crew members prepared for their trip to the Bahamas. Mama Bahama packed everything she and her youngin’s would need, but the backpack was too big – to carry. Jonas wanted to pack his rope collection, but there were too many. Elias packed his plastic giraffe and two straws; his ziplock bag was just right. Mama lead the way to her childhood friend’s home in Fort Lauderdale (from where they’d fly to Nassau), via the downtown Miami bus, Metro Rail, and Tri Rail – Elias dropped Cherios along the path – just in case. Papa Popeye, well rested from his four hour visit with the sandman after enjoying the Jonah and the Whale bedtime story, pulled up the anchor, along with those in the two other accompanying vessels. Reassured by concurring weather reports from the Internet, VHF radio, and seasoned sailors, Tom anticipated a pleasant sail amidst 2 foot waves, southeast winds, and 10 knot breezes. So, along he traveled amidst 8 foot waves, east winds (the point of sail sailboats cannot sail), and 25 knot breezes. The big bad wind huffed and puffed and blew the first little sailor’s boom (holding the sail) down. Then, the big bad wind huffed and puffed and the second little sailor’s engine didn’t work. Finally, the big bad wind huffed and puffed and the third little sailor’s (Tom’s) bilge began to take in water – fee fi fo pump, fee fi fo pump…”My what big teeth you have” and ”the sky is falling, the sky is falling,” chanted the sea creatures, each time Tom hourly “fed the fish” off the port side. Good thing Ellen safely stowed that prescription sea sickness medication at the bottom of the locker – testing its effectiveness by requiring a sick sailor to first stick his head in a closet. Taking advantage of those free 5400 minutes, Ellen telephoned Tom every 15 minutes - with a climactic Survivor episode playing in the background. Ellen marveled at how after 7 hours, they were still maintaining cell phone contact - forgetting that 12 miles were traveled in that time period. Their last connected conversation concluded with Tom remarking that he’d better respond to that approaching container ship. Later, out at sea, the clock struck 2 a.m. – troll like visions were sighted on wave crests. Before their aquatic coaches turned backed into coconuts, the sailors decided to set their course back to Miami – figuring that since their GPS noted negative 1 mph as their actual speed, they might make more headway in reverse. Sure enough, after only another 9 hours, the sailors returned. Ellen and the boys’ 7 modes of public transportation within 24 hours didn’t evoke much sympathy. Tom was granted his 3 wishes: no sushi for dinner, no bedtime “fish stories” and no sarcastic fairy tale-esque website chronicling of his adventures. And the family members all anchored happily ever after.
Prologue: When Ellen told her brother that it might be a few more weeks before an optimal Bahamas crossing weather window appears, he suggested that Tom hold out for a door – preferably one that leads directly into an ocean liner cruise ship.
come on in, the water is fine
Polly want a sunflower seed
which reptile has a more painful bite
Tuesday, Jan 11th:
We seem to be in a different phase - not traveling nor feeling the need to reach that Miami destination. The weather for a Bahamas passage is not looking good for the near future - there's a six hour window - that'll get Tom just out of the harbor. We'll probably form some sort of alternate travel intinerary later this week. Our latest "rhythm" seems to be days of errands (groceries - I'm even beginning to know which aisles to find the Cozy Shack pudding and other necessities, laundry...) and boat work, alternating with the city park pool, beach, or sightseeing. Yesterday's sightseeing venture took us to Parrot Jungle, Parrot Jungle. The reptile show was pretty good - more nature oriented, less stupid pet tricks - although I don't think that 80 pound snapping turtle would be a good candidate for hula hoop dancing. Did you know that a snapping turtle has a worm like appendage on its tongue? This can be used to attract the fish as they swim downstream into the turtle's open mouth - kind of like couch potato fishing. Jonas was selected (loudest ooh ooh ahh ahh) to work the crowd - first he had to guess which dangerous creature was sitting on his head (alligator) and then display it to the audience so they could see how it differs from the crocodile held by the presenter, as well as provide a perfect photo op for Mom, and of course, the website. We then moved to the bird show - featuring a tightrope bicycling act - it was a bit of a reach understanding how this adaptation would be useful in the wilds - except when being pursued by escaped Ringling Brothers bears locomoting on rolling basketballs. A downtown Miami pigeon kept appearing on center stage - a cycling feathered diva wanna be - later I saw him sweeping up popcorn under the seats. The high wire act closely rivaled the "oh what a beautiful morning" singing bird. It was one of those places that sets you up for a photo (Jonas and Elias holding parrots), tell you that it is prohibited for you to take a photo of this, and then directs you to the 2nd floor of the gift shop to purchase the photo for the price of a plane ticket (which would be $0 for us, actually, given our frequent flyer miles - unless they decided to charge each time we change our departure date - which would milk our life savings). The staff didn't offer us the photo of the parrot biting Jonas, parrot biting Jonas, as Jonas fed him sunflower seeds, sunflower seeds.
Today was one of those functional days - changing the fuel filter and groceries. As we dinghy up the channel to the grocery, there is this regularly planted boater, sitting by an apartment complex next to the ICW, laptop poised to take advantage of some unknowing internet user on the 5th floor. I'll try to forward some photos in the next e-mail.
Wednesday, Jan 12th:
Today we walked and walked and walked - then I found the tourist information center and a pamphlet on the 25 cent South Beach shuttle - all that exercise for nothing! (ha) - we even walked and walked with our garbage - some towns have a dumpster at the dinghy dock - and other places (like here) have an elderly woman who guards the condo dumpster from the 3rd floor - yelling to the boaters making deposits at the dumpster adjacent to the dinghy dock (which technically belongs to the condo) - which I guess is a sad statement on this woman's later years in life - I hear another sign of escalating age is talking to oneself, i.e., if there are no e-mail responses - (you can always hit the reply button if you've lost our address) - I've been researching for tomorrow's agenda -none of the directions relate to those arriving by dinghy, foot, or bus - Today we went to the beach, but not the harborhood party - it was rained out - imagine that, boaters' plans being contingent upon the weather - life's ironies.. - I began reading for my 2nd children's literature course, but am having some start-up motivational challenges - I sure hope this doesn't adversely influence my correspondence course GPA thus far, and all the related repercussions - I believe I'm rambling - that's different...So now I understand why the infamous South Beach diet has its roots here - it fills in for anything that can't be tucked or lifted or enlarged or suctioned - this beautiful people on parade, flaunting how much they can spend for sparse clothing, is getting a bit old - we're proud to say that we still look like we're “right off the boat” - okay, I'm running out of wind, in contrast to gusts currently driving the wind generator.
hey, did you hear the one about the sailboat race
instinctual wildlife behavior