Back at home

Barco has just returned home. We departed on Monday at about 1145, we were late so we ran the twin diesels at 80% (2200 rpm), running at ten knots with destination of Jacksonville Landing. Once there, we picked up She Who Will Be Obeyed outside Hooter's and continued our forty mile run to Fernandina.

City Marina at Fernandina is about as close to Georgia as one can get. You can see the Sub Base in the distance, and the local paper plant reminds one of the smell that used to permeate North Florida. We picked up 226 gallons of diesel and the Marina staff was kind enough to allow us to stay the night at the fuel dock. We enjoyed some sunset G&T's, waited for some business associates to come by for dinner.

We repaired to "Moon River Pizza" and ordered a couple of pitchers and pies. Moon River has the best pizza at the finest prices. A very Bohemian atmosphere, there is loud alternative music and the staff is required to have covered their skin with ink and have the craziest hair-do's since the seventies. Five of us dined and caught a decent buzz from the beer and wine, all under fifty bucks. Big spenders!

Back to the boat by 2200 and had final nightcaps. Taps was about 2300.

Fernandina is an example of what I consider to be old Florida. It has a history of having been ruled by eight flags and there is an old fort that has to be three hundred years old. There is a marker detailing the Revolutionary war invasion of British Northeast Florida. Apparently a small raider force of rebels attacked and trashed the town. Just good ol' boys...

Back to the old Florida bit; There is a small downtown, older buildings are the rule. I can see that it must have been quite a place before all the stupid t-shirt shops and quaint antique joints took over. "Look honey, we can sell our home here in New York, move to Fernandina and open a tourist shop and retire...."

This kind of thinking has wrecked a great small town. I can't stand to see all the pirate themed stores. Why can't we have some small lunch counters and a TG&Y? Maybe add in a couple of Shrimper's bars?

Nope. We have to have "quaint", surrounded by high youthful unemployment and middle aged provincial posers. We resemble that!

Nice little town ruined by progress and "Salt Life" signs.

After breakfast, we fired up the twin Perkins and departed quietly, heading South on the Intracoastal Waterway. Eight knots indicated and a good 12 knot breeze slowing us down. The only traffic we encountered was a tug and barge about half way to Jacksonville. And I ran aground while safely in the channel. One minute the water showed ten feet, then as I rounded a red marker the depth alarm started. I felt us touch on the bow, so I immediately pulled the props out of gear and allowed the boat to glance off of a silt mound. While doing this I was saying, "We're in the f%^&*n channel, look behind us and ahead." Like my whining really helps. It was as if I was trying to get absolution for messing up, but it really wasn't my fault. Just a "classic ICW" ran-out-of-water moment. And it was low tide, so I will remember that little lesson of humility.

Anyway, we hardly slowed down and I returned power up to 2000 rpm for the regular cruise and we continued the mission to return home.

Arrived at homeplate after a four hour journey. Not bad, we made good time. We lazed in the warm Florida sunshine and consumed cold Sierra Nevada's while watching a fisherman troll back and forth in Pirate's Cove.

Great week to be living in Florida!

Finally over

The holidays are officially

I can say with relief that the Barco is well and done with the frivolity and contrived happiness of the solstice celebrations. I don't think the Lord intended a celebration of Jesus' birth to really coincide with the bacchanalian Roman Winter solstice celebrations.

And I am just getting over the worst illness of the past four years, so this explains my cynicism. She who will be obeyed has picked up my ailment and has to suffer herself. Doubleplusungood. Bad, since we intend to get underway at 1200 today for Fernandina. We pick her up at the Jacksonville Landing at lunchtime.

She tells me that I want to pick up something called "tonic" and "Snacky-poohs".

"Beaujolais Actual" http://blog.mailasail.com/beaujolais Arrived yesterday from London, and we naturally had to destroy a couple bottles of bubbly to ward off demons, or whatever. The departing demons left a bad taste in the mouth and a curious thumping in the cranial area. Waking up at the crack of six will do this, too.

We have some coffee from Vanuatu. It's called "Tanna", Beaujolais Actual says that it is the best in the world. I asked if the beans had been fed to a Civet Cat, and the resulting product of defecation had been lovingly scooped up and roasted? Response was to the negative. Lucky for us; we will not be drinking coffee from Sumatra. Just Vanuatu.

The Barco Crew really enjoys this international Bohemian lifestyle. I guess it pays to keep friends from all the places one travels to. But they turn up at our house at varying occasions disrupting what we laughingly call a routine.

Keep a passport. Otherwise get one. Be ready to deploy to other lands at a moment's notice.

Sitting at a local Jacksonville drinking establishment, I had the pleasure of correcting an English gentleman as to the name of a certain pub on the North bank of the Thames, next to the "Little Ship Club". And he acknowledged that I was right. Hah!
http://www.fancyapint.com/pubs/pub752.html

The joys of having been there.

By the way, when in any Fullers Pub, be sure to enjoy my favorite beer in the entire world; London Pride. Or "ESB". On the Barco, you will be offered Pabst Blue Ribbon. I have been a believer since Dennis Hopper set me straight


Back to boating:

Received 2009's PHRF renewal certificate for "White Lightnin' (1978 San Juan 28, hull #103). The handicappers say it has a rating of 189. I pay the North Florida Sailing association 30 bucks, and they confirm that 189 is indeed our handicap. Newer and faster boats will tend to have a lower Performance Handicap Racing Fleet. This PHRF ruling makes people want to come out and race, even in slow boats. But the frustrating thing is that someone will game the system by sailing some old piece of crap that has been extensively faired and smoothed on the bottom, removed the engine and water tanks to reduce weight, but wants to have the high digit PHRF that makes their old boat unbeatable by us mere mortals.

I have never won a race in my own sailboat, ever. Could be because I am a terrible racer and lack the fundamentals of a good sailor. But I am a good crew and have been on many winners, over the years. So another year, another PHRF.

Have a fine Navy Day.

Happy Boxing Day!

Boxing Day, 26 December, is a day celebrated by half the world. The British, warm loving folks were they, gave the hired help the day after Christmas off, and "boxed" up the leftovers from the Christmas celebrations and gave them to the hired folks as thanks.

Sometimes, I'm sure that the "box" was probably over filled with goodies and other necessities that made the holiday a little more special for those less privileged.

Having lived in the UK for four years, I cannot describe how the Brit's go completely crazy for Christmas. Forget getting a restaurant for dinner. Every food and beverage purveyor has a private function going, and you ain't welcome!

Very frustrating.

The following is an example of the bacchanalia of a typical UK Christmas party. The faces have been altered to protect the guilty.



Temps for today: High of 78 and lows of 59.

There shall be boating.

See some of you on the St Johns River!

Some pictures from eleven years ago in London. Times flies fast. Enjoy your time now!!!

A little boating story

Anyone ever see "Weird Science"? Two nerdy kids with no chance at chicks, become empowered by Kelli Le Brock.

The scene I have in mind is these two geeks are in a Chicago Blues club, and the dark haired kid starts into a story about an eighth grade girl with large...

Sorry, I digress. I will take on the persona of "Wyatt", from previously mentioned film. (I blame River City Vibe for continuing with the Weird Science theme)

Fats, man. Lemme tell you my story, man. Last year, I was insane for this crazy little sailboat...

The dream I had for sailing started in a not-so-normal way. I was working as a Naval Reserve Recruiter at NAS West Coast, California. A newly signed up applicant told of his new hobby, sailing. He said the Navy had boats for rent and that anyone on Active Duty could rent one of these boats. Just do a short course, get checked out and voila, sail the ocean’s blue, on a 35 foot Navy rental sailboat.

Naturally, I didn’t get a chance to take those lessons. But 1986 saw me begin my earliest dreams of the ocean, especially not with any “haze gray” blocking my view. It just so happened that I enjoyed the Buffett music that had a continuous message of getting away from it all. Then add to that a sense of real dislike of what I was and what I had been doing up to that moment. I knew that I could be doing something else.

The problem was getting started.

After all, only rich people sail, right? (I'm gonna give Joe Bones a call and borrow some money.)

1989 saw me move to Jax Beach, Florida, I lived in a little apartment on A1A. I loved Buffet's album by the same name; So I had to live There. One day, I saw an ad on the squadron bulletin board that read, “16 Foot Hobie Cat, easy to sail, even easier to own; $750 bucks”.

I just happened to have just that much cash on hand, and rather than waste this lucre on a couple of visits to the local taverns, I thought, "Hey, I could actually start off on the sailing dream."

So I called my new girlfriend, the prospective 'She Who Will Be Obeyed', and told her that I was buying a boat. We were going to start down the pathway to ocean cruising by starting out with a small beach boat. Also, I had someone who was willing to teach me how to get this Hobie moving.

She was enthusiastic and mentioned that she enjoyed sailing, too. Did I mention that she just liked me, didn't matter if I was accomplishing a thing.

A squadron mate acquired a Prindle 16 at the same time and naturally, (the way we bragged) we became the real “sailors” in our helicopter squadron. Anytime there was a beach gathering, we were there with our catamarans. Two beer goggled buffoon’s careening in such close proximity, it’s a wonder we didn’t get hurt.

Back at it!

Did the daily walk. It was cold, but not horrible. I like that no one is out and about early. Just a couple of cats and maybe one car. We try to walk a couple miles a morning to counteract the dreadful toll our lifestyle exacts from our physiques.

We will have some warmer weather over the next couple days. I enjoy warm Christmas days because that is the deal you expect in Florida.

////Redacted//// continues with his fanatic fascination with other women. Joe Bones has better pictures than mine, but in my defense I have more boats than he.

More later...

Morose Monday

It had to happen. As sure as the weather was grand we knew that the weekend would come to a close.

Stayed on the Barco Saturday and Sunday nights. It's just like having a million dollar condo on the water, plenty comfortable, so why not?

Punch line approaching.....

We get up at the crack of six, put the cat into the bag and pack up the clothes, let's make our way to the car to go home.

But the gate is locked. So is the other gate. It's freakin' cold, the wind is tearing heat away from our faces and the gate is locked!

The Spousal Unit wears a brace to immobilize her left ankle, and the right ankle ain't really there, either. So no hopping the chain link fence.

Our previously cheerful attitude is turning to a darker shade of pissed. Fortunately, She who will be obeyed has a solution; Go walk around the tennis courts and see if there is a walkway.

Yeah, right. It's dark out and cold, but instead of hopping around mad, go find a way out.

Sure enough, she's right. We walked around the tennis courts and found our carriage and headed home.

I regret that bottle of red after the bottle of bubbly. Last night.


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Page two.

Saturday found us moving the Barco to its new digs.

The new place is very private and the boat is safely tucked into a cove off of the St Johns river.

I think we will fit in nicely with the other boats and look forward to a great new year.

The Drawn Cutlass Blog had a great Dolphin story

You can see the link in comments.

T.I.N.S:

Back in July of '92, I was the senior aircrewman onboard DD-989, and we were down in the Caribbean doing the Counter Drug Ops thing. This consisted of flying around, doing a radar and visual search for the drug runners.

One fine day, and I do mean FINE! We zoomed around and came upon scraggly assed fishing trawler. It had rust and stains all over and looked barely able to continue its mission. It was flying a dishrag looking Venezuelan flag and was chugging along. we did a lookover and called the skipper, did the list of questions and established the bona fides.

As we started to fly away, the pilot in command loudly said, "Wooooahhh. F*^%$!"

We looked down and saw the biggest effing hammerhead, lolling along about a hundred yards off of the fishing boat! I mean about 30 foot, if he was a day!!!!

Kinda gives one chills... especially since we could fly into the water at any minute!

I tossed a mark 25 smoke on the position to let everyone know that something was there. No doubt the Venezuelans would like to know about this creature.

That's when that shark starts nosing the smoke and looking like he was establishing if that shiny piece of flaming aluminum was food!

Pilot: "If that shark bites that smoke, he'll never go back to Mexicans..."

P.S. That was the only shark I ever saw in person.