A beautiful Sunday in Jacksonville

Lovely, sunny and warm. A person cannot ask for more, life in Jacksonville is great on these sunshiny days. Will run a few errands, finish up the house cleaning and wrap up the day by having dinner at Mom's, later on. Burgundy Beef...

Remember our trip last month to California? Here is a video that someone else took of the Big Band that entertained us for dinner at the Madonna Inn. Stop by San Luis Obispo off of Hwy 101, (the Madonna Inn exit) and treat yourself to the great dining and entertainment that the Madonna Inn offers. The song is "Shiny Stockings"



The Barco Sin Vela is in the midst of a "Limited Availability" period; Nick is stripping off hardware and trim from the sundeck and rebedding/reinstalling said acoutrements. All dome lights are being rehabbed. Lee is stripping old wax off the entire hull and super structure and cleaning and waxing all surfaces. Barco Sin Vela will be hosting the Florida Yacht Club Race Committee for the "Kings Day Regatta", and we want to look our best for the yachting crowd.

I gotta go borrow some money...

Have a nice Sunday.

I am stealing Jihad Gene's theme this afternoon

Our Dear Reader always has a Friday dance theme; I happened to find one of the big hits from my neighborhood in 1977;

Blue Oyster Cult;

GODZILLA!


The next cut became the unofficial must listen for the Hancock Squadron;

"Golden Age of Leather"


1977 and 1978 were tough times...

I won't even start on "Foghat Live". Because I'm just a fool for the city!

Veterans Day 2009

The streets are a little more empty as Jacksonville finds itself facing a gloomy, cloudy Federal Holiday. No students walking to school, half of the workers making the commute. Of course, I have to be at work. Not that I really care; The failed tropical depression, "Ida" has made the skies iron gray.

I am amazed everyday that so many people I meet have never served in our Armed Forces. Didn't even consider it.

"That's for the poor people... Maybe people who have no opportunity".

Hmmph.

One nice gent, a glass repair business owner, came in yesterday and mentioned that Veterans Day was upon us.

"Oh yes it is!" I said, "And here at this office we have a genuine actual veteran!"

David, (The business owner) asks, "Who is it?"

The immediate thought in my mind was 'Is this guy actually thinking that this is all I have ever done in life, selling insurance???'

Quickly, I recovered. This guy just thinks that being in the Service is for other people, not for people you actually know and do business with.

We have about two thousand customers, and more than a few of them have served. We have at least two (that I know of) former POW's who spent a year of their youth incarcerated by the Germans in WWII. They walk a little stooped and a limp is apparent from proud pain endured. The hearing aid gives a loud squeal, testifying to the damage from exposure to loud noises of machinery, or weapons.

Some are Korea and Vietnam Vets who don't bring attention to themselves. They had enough mistreatment by their peers back in the 50's and 60's.

But we know each other as having served; Small Code words, here and there. Using the phonetic alphabet when giving and receiving vehicle identification numbers.

Some wear loud t-shirts, jackets and hats, proud of their service. Others you might see the blue ID card just inside the wallet when they make the insurance premium payment.

We know who we are.

Now that I have been out for just over ten years, I am just a regular citizen and I even feel like I am telling a "Tall Tale" or a fib when I remember that I used to serve. I guess that's why the Glass dude did not believe me when I mentioned casually that I had served for twenty years, but my only claim to the Veteran Brotherhood was that I had a couple of pieces of cloth that indicated that I was in an area where people received imminent danger pay.

Gloryoski's!

Sounds pretty weak to me, too. Especially when we have young friends and customers who are deploying on their third tour in the Middle East, or some other place that the "Imminent Danger Pay" is earned, daily. In places where buying the farm is not a joke, but a fact indicated by a family who receives a Servicemembers SGLI (Servicemembers Government Life Insurance) payout, which can easily pay off a family's home.

Let us all remember the real heroes who served before and today's heroes who return to do the dirty work that needs to be done.

I was going to say something melancholy but I won't. My service can be summed up as follows; I just had as good a time as I could.

Still do.




I prefer to remember when these pictures were new.








Thanks to everyone who served, and will serve.

Crew of Barco Sin Vela II



















******Update******

I surfed over to this, and I feel physically ill.

Jerks like this trivialize the service of better men and women, and this sort of idiocy make me feel like a poseur about my own military service time. All this fool had to do was join and spend a couple years in uniform. But that takes too much time.

Doesn't it?

Off to Figueira da Foz

View Larger Map

We had about 65 miles to cover so we were underway just before sunup. The ocean was incredibly calm, but after the butt whippings we had enjoyed in the past couple weeks, we were very reserved. I had the main and head sail up and motorsailed with the trusty Perkins 4-108 chugging along. We were doing a respectable six knots and were surprised to find ourselves entering the little bay while the sun was high in the sky.

Dolphins were our escort the entire trip and it was truly nice out. The breeze was warm and the sun bright and we were almost lulled into complacency, but not this time!

I did a security check several times and found that water was entering the boat (Still!) and this time, I could see it seeping in around the rudder post.

Interesting. Berthon Boatyard had replaced the rudder gland packing, and they did not tighten the assembly back. Incredibly lucky that we did not lose the rudder during the violent ocean motion we had in the Bay of Biscay. Easy enough repair, all I had to do was tighten the five inch nut. Should be simple, right?

Wrong.

I did not have a pipe wrench capable of turning this nut.

So now I spent my time agonizing about the water entry and closely monitoring the bilge pump's operation and the levels of water.

This is just another example of having a boat yard do work and kicking us out without doing a proper shake down cruise with the list of repairs. Just to see what is broken or unrepaired.

We arrived at about 1600, and we slid into the little marina at closing time. Our friends the "Vikings" spotted us and with loud whoops of welcome, they guided us into an available berth and grabbed our lines. Totally cool arrival!

I stole these pictures from




Stolen from Manor Houses dot com cruising guide.


Over sunset cocktails we swapped yarns of our journey since Brest. The Vikings had an engine failure about twenty miles out of the harbor and used their ten foot dinghy with a 7.5 HP outboard to tow their boat in for the last ten miles. Once in port, the lad's turned to and did a rebuild of their diesel in the ten days that they had been in Figuiera Da Foz.

Awesome! I sure wish I had a crew like this to do our voyage... can you imagine? They rebuilt their diesel in ten days!!!

All I can think of is my lack of talent and the wasted years of not being a mechanic. Oh well.

I asked if they had the appropriate wrench?

They were getting underway the next morning and, "No, we don't have the right wrench."

Like anything I do, it has to be a full production. The next morning I began my search of every hardware store in the town. Nobody had the pipe wrench I needed, and it was the next day when I found a plumbing supply store. Sixty dollars later I had my wrench and I hustled back to the boat.

I got to the rudder post and in eight or nine turns, had tightened the rudder gland.

Just like that. Sixty bucks.

We went to the internet cafe and checked out the weather situation; The weather forecast was not good for the next few days so we settled into a routine of waiting, dining out and enjoying the local atmosphere.

The weather forecast five days later was for the remnant of hurricane Irene to make landfall in our vicinity, so we had to batten down the hatches and secure the boat for a blow.

The marina operators came out and had all of us cruising sailboats rearrange our berths and we all met at 0900 to move about fifteen boats to more secure docks. I was glad to see a virtual NATO of cruisers all pitch in a hand so that the moves were made in an efficiently quick and safe manner. We put four line handlers on each boat with three or four line handlers at the dock to catch lines. This meant that the skipper could fire up his motor, move and be tied up in about ten minutes vice the inevitable banging around that a non-assisted boat would endure.

Like NATO, the only boat who refused assistance of any kind was a French owned Super Maramou 53', he didn't want any of us coming near his boat. Just like NATO.

Capitaine French dude did not trust the English, Americans, Danes and Finns anywhere near his bateau.

We stood by to assist anyway when he started beating his stern into two Portugese sailboats. His was the only damaged boat along with a couple broken outboards and rudders.

Idiot.

The rest of the time was spent enjoying the company of our polyglot fellow mariners, and we enjoyed the rains and winds down below emptying our wine lockers and beer cellars. I also broke out the video and television so we could catch up on the box of video tapes my Mom had recorded for our trip.

So every day, we would venture out to check the weather on the internet and close the evening with dinner and dessert of local Ports.

For three weeks this went on, finally the weather forecasts began to be more favorable for a two day journey to Portimao. We were bypassing Lisbon because of the delays, and we needed to make way towards Rota, Spain. Asap.

In retrospect; Figuiera da Foz was one of the best ports we visited. The cost was about ten U.S. bucks a night, and the fellowship with the other boaters was phenomenal. One such new friend was a young man tending his 36 foot Cat Boat. He greeted us in unaccented American English, and we struck up a conversation, especially because his boat had a Portuguese flag.

As we chatted, we asked where they had lived.

"Oh a small town in Northeast Florida, you wouldn't know it."

I bit; "Oh, you'd be surprised."

"We lived at Jax Beach."

Ah. "What street?" Was my reply.

"Third Street".

I went on and mentioned I lived there while stationed at Mayport. What an incredibly shrinking world, we are in Central Portugal and meet Jax Beach locals.

The only uncomfortable thing we had to bear was learning about some of the local dinner choices. Dining could be exciting due to language restrictions, for example; on the Spousal Unit's birthday, we went to a nice restaurant with the specific idea of ordering steak. I was afraid that I would make a mistake and order say, "Shoe covered in Cheese", or some other ghastly gastronomic ghoulie.

The highest price steak on the menu was "Steak Especial". It may have been spelled Steack Espeziale, or some variation of that theme

Oh boy, this should be good...

Imagine our surprise and disappointment when a small sirloin comes out covered with a fried egg and a dark brown gravy covering the egg and steak?

Bummer.

So we scraped off the offending eggs and choke down our dinner. Another family comes in and they are from a Danish boat on our dock. They mention that they are looking forward to a steak, and I warn them about the "Especial" part. So they order the steak sans "Especial" and they get a beautiful sirloin unfettered by gravies or sunny side up eggs.

I get a surly look from the waiter for scraping off good food. No matter, off to the Casino to see our favorite Maitre D, who invites us to his bar (He was the owner of another place up the street) where we get a private tasting of his best Ports.

The three weeks was a bit frustrating, since we wanted to be in warmer weather but again, one has to take the good deals where you can make them.

Haven't gotten pictures yet, from Phil

But the good news is that a keg of Fuller's "London Pride" will be making its way to the Veldt Lounge.


My favorite beer in the world! (Other than PBR, we are talkin' about Premium beer!)

Just in time for the Bed and Breakfast season here in Jacksonville. Somehow, the past five years has seen an upswell of guests around Thanksgiving time, all from Traverse City Michigan. Latest count is like five, or so.

"Peabody, here... Sherman; to the Wayback Machine."

We return to Leixoes, Portugal.

Arriving at about 1100, we quickly checked in for the real reason for our visit; Getting Propane for our cooking system.

Since Propane is a hassle in Europe, one has to know where to find it. If you happen to be traveling around, it won't be apparent. We were running out, and cooking required propane. A helpful marina dude said he knew where to get propane, so we gave him our four bottles and hoped for the best. Later that afternoon, we got four very heavy bottles and rejoiced. Wildebeest III was set for the next month, or so.

We made the rounds of the small marina and found a couple of friends from Brest. So we got together for beer and snacks and renewed friendships. After all, one never knew if they were going to see these same friends again.

Bad weather and luck can strike anywhere, or you might just go home because you get frustrated with the weather or with boating. It happens.

Chris bid us farewell, since he had business back in London, and we found ourselves alone for the first time in a month. Woo hoo!

The next day an expedition to the City of Oporto was declared. There was much planning and charts consulted, we discovered a bus that would take us into downtown.

One of the young Danish fellows was going with us, and I noticed he was wearing "Shower Shoes" (Military description) civilian nomenclature: Flip Flops.

"You're not wearing those downtown, are you?" I snidely asked.

"Why not?" I wear them everywhere." Sayeth the 19 year old slacker.

"What if you get a 'Blow out', then where will you be?"

"I never have that problem, these are most comfortable for me when traveling."

Idiot. What is with society, when half the people are walking around with very substandard footwear? How will you run if there is a fire, or a ghetto uprising?

We take the public transport and find our selves in downtown Oporto, an ancient seafaring city.

I notice beautiful dark haired maidens, all looking like they just stepped out of downtown Hayward California, with snug black slacks and lovely long, raven hair. Stunning!

Then, you see proud ladies wearing dark skirts; they are married and have children. I am the master of the obvious, no?

We can identify the targets for dating. How convenient, for the single male. Too bad I missed this place in the 70's. Or is it?

This is when our 19 year old Dane has a flip flop malfunction. He is walking barefoot on centuries of spit and dog offal. I smirk with a "I-told-you-so". there is no Surf Shop that sell replacements. But there are wine shops!

Walking along the river Douro, we see the Port wineries and naturally, we just have to visit.

The Douro is a natural highway for transporting the fine wines that have been grown since before the Romans.


We saw the Sandeman winery and found we had a hour or two before the next tour. So we went to the train station to check out the depression era artwork.

They had these wonderful tile murals depicting the Portuguese tradition of adventure and navigation. Prince Henry figures large in these murals.




The pride in their Catholicism is everywhere, too.

The language is closer to Italian than Spanish, so I was completely lost. The Spousal Unit had three years of Latin and had the same result. No matter. The locals were as nice as can be and we were completely welcomed.

So we go the the Sandeman Cellars.


The Museo

Port Barrel




I normally will not pay for a tour of anything, this is from years of experience with USO tours and living in Florida. Anyone can get more out of a visit by studying library references and other publications concerning the area toured. Plus, ther is no constant chorus of, "Stay with the tour, we're moving... keep up with the tour..."

This time, I paid the fee. It was informative and interesting. And we bumped into one of the Lieutenant's from the retirement ceremony! Talk about pleasant surprises.

Here is a photo of this nice fella with the charming Emma, from the retirement ceremony. (I have pictures of this gent in Oporto but since he is still on Active Duty OPSEC requires me to use something to obscure the identity).



We had a great reunion dinner and we invited the LT and his Spouse to stay on the 'Beest, saving them a hundred bucks on lodging. We tried to talk them into sailing with us to Lisbon, but they had air reservations that could not be changed.

The next day we did breakfast and bid our guests farewell. The weather was warm and lent itself to cleaning the Wildebeest and preparing for our next trip to Figueira Da Foz, a mere five hours away. We fueled at the fishing docks and were underway the following morning, about 0600.

Tuesday update

I don't think I got warm until today.

Underway on the Toad at 0830, took off for Beach Marine at full throttle and 20 gallons of gas. The skies were cloudy and there was a pesky North wind.

Arrived about an hour and a half later, refueled, discovered we used all the fuel getting to the intermediary stop. The 125 Mercury is a gas guzzler; If my car burned 20 gallons in 28 miles I would shoot it as a hazard to my economy!

Made it to St Augustine about an hour later, my best run to St Augustune, ever!

Our crew showed up and we had lunch, tied the Toad to the sailboat and got going. We could only do about six knots with a twenty knot wind holding us down.

I was wearing a jacket, t shirt and shorts. I was shivering when the sun disappeared, and we now had a tough time of it in the Intracoastal. We arrived at 2130 and I was frozen mackerel.

Got home at 2330 and think I finally thawed at 0800. Pictures later.

Monday means St Augustine!

My hometown buddy Phil, has a C&C 35 sailboat that is stranded without a motor in St Augustine. I will be leaving for NAS Jax this morning where I will change mode of transportation to the "Toad". The MWR Marina calls it's 20 foot boston whaler "Toad" because it is ugly, gray in color and it has Toad all the small sailboats to and from safety.

I will be driving the "Toad" to St Augustine and we will tow the sailboat up the Intracoastal Waterway to its home at the NAS Jax Marina.

There will be lifejackets, just in case.