Axe Maidens and O'Brothers Irish Pub

Tuesday night found She who will be obeyed and myself at O'Brothers Irish Pub. Allegedly, there is London Pride Beer.

Nope. They had the tap and it looked like there would be said beverage, but no.

Spousal Unit and I grabbed the last table from under someone's nose, I think it was being saved but I felt that we should sit. Victory!

Some "Dude" and his lad posse showed up to help solidify our hold on the only table. Dude then introduced us to the owner, Drew, and we proceeded to quaff pints of Old Rogue.

This team of cheerleaders, called the "Axe Maidens" came in to entertain the small crowd.

It was underwhelming. Nicely dressed ladies who were all undergoing/gone the applied art of the plastic surgeons guild, which is pretty popular with the ladies of South Florida. Some folks dig that kind of thing, not me.

They were very nice young ladies, who just seemed like Hooter's waitresses who grew up and are looking for further work in that field.
http://www.jaxaxe.com/AxeMaidens/tabid/289/Default.aspx

I hope they break into that tough world of adult cheerleading. Otherwise they have been wasting time chatting with beery smelling, old fat guys. Yuck.

The Oscar Wild burgers were good, the beer decent and the tab a little pricey, but O'Brothers seems like a fun pub. We will be back.

Gotta go now, muster for duty is in three zero minutes.

Sky King

This is a great song and even better video.



I always enjoy flying. I would try this out, but I am afraid I would rack it into the mud. But I have my student certificate, so now I need to get about 6K together and visit the flying club at jax. The pilot license is the next big step that needs to be completed before I get too old.

Foul Weather Jacket Tuesdays

A fine example of a Navy Foul Weather Jacket, not wearable with civvies or off station. Too bad, they are quite toasty.

The following picture is what happens when it gets cold. Siamese cats will take over.


Three Cat Night

Well, we went from summer to winter, completely bypassing autumn. Rain and cold, it was a three cat night.

I have been off of beer during the week, and the funny thing is that the lack of said beverage makes it difficult on the body. For instance, if I consume six Sierra Nevada's in the evening, I will respond to the wake up alarum promptly and without any delay. In fact, I will be up with the chickens.

When I have consumed water, (and as instructed by W.C. Fields, we know what fish do in water), or green tea, I find that I can hardly get out of the rack. Even after NINE complete hours of rest, I feel lumbago and the effects of ague and gravity seem overpowering!

The lesson is to drink beer, every night. It's good for you.

Days like today, grey, wet, depressing. Cold. It reminds me of living in London. But in London, there was the hope of visiting a toasty pub, with its coal burning stove and cool Bitters.

Not in Jacksonville! No pubs within walking distance and certainly no cool London Pride. In fact no beer. One of us has to lose about one stone of tonnage, just to return to fitting my suits. Jack Sparrow would ask, "Why is the rum always gone?"

Have a fine Navy Day.

Passports and Travel

Wilbur J Wildebeest wears a Fez because he can. He is a swingin' hipster who lives in the billiards room of the Serengetti Spa and Veldt Lounge

Hey there Groovy Guys and Groovy Gals, Peace, Love and Dope!

I loved that line in an old Cheech and Chong album. How funny it was in the seventies, and I always wanted to say it. Done.

Today's screed is brought to you nice people by the letter "P".

I mentioned a few posts ago, the need for all to be ready to deploy to far off lands for testing beers and wine from other climes. Today we review October's trip to Cooloongalook.

The deployment order was received from COMNAVHOMEFRONT in June. She who will be obeyed instructed yours truly to comply with the invitation for a housewarming party, and make reservations on United. Four months early.

Now, I never do anything that far in advance. To be honest, I was trying to passive/aggressive my way out of actually going. I do it all of the time; it gets me out of doing something the Spousal Unit wants me to do. You know, like yard work. (That is definitely something for others to do...)

Anyway, so I book the 5000 buck round trip tickets (didn't I say I was trying to get out of this duty?) and all is harmonious at the Serengetti Spa and Veldt Lounge.

By the way, we couldn't afford all of this. But has no bearing on the mission, right?

We take off from Jax at @1300 and make way for Chicago. There at O'hare, we have a four hour layover. So we go to a roosting spot and do some roosting. There was a Marine standing by the bar looking lost. So we offer him a drink as thanks for his service and have him sit with us and chat. He has two, and actually tried to pay for his drinks!

Meanwhile, the bartender has been keeping track of our many drinks and brings us our tab; 31 bucks for three and a half hours of constant drinking! I was stunned, since I had consumed at least eight beers and She who will be obeyed had at least five wines. Not to mention the young Marine's drinks. I mentioned that the tab was looking a little "light", and she should recalculate.

"Since you were so kind to that Marine, I could see that you were both fine people who might appreciate a break in your bill as a 'thanks'", she said.

God Bless America!

That young lady got a 25 dollar tip.

Back to traveling;

So we stumble to our flight, with happy vibes coursing through our heads. We shared a session of giggling while on the takeoff roll. Snoozing became our routine for the next three hours.

We arrived in SFO with the beginnings of a well earned hangover. We shuffled through the international waiting area and were shoehorned onto a 747. Good thing we paid for the "Economy Plus". This gave us decent seats on the wing area with adequate leg room for my short legs. We spent the next 14 hours in various states of grogginess/snoozing/stiffness and finally gaseous pain from "Boyles Law" taking over in our bellies.

Note to self: Be sure to take Beano on flight home.

We arrived in Sydney at 0700 and made our way through customs and found Beaujolais Actual waiting in the arrival area>

.

It was a three hour drive up highway 1 to Cooloongalook.



The wildlife above were everywhere to be found. The kookaburra's are hilarious, waking us up with that oo-oo-oo ahh-ahh-ahh oo-oo. Like they were laughing at us.

I couldn't get any pics of the stars due to my ham handed photo skills. Very bright and very foreign. Kinda scary, since nothing was familiar about the constellations.

The beer? Horrible. I tried to choke down as much as possible so I could at least be sociable. I never saw "Foster's". The locals say that Foster's is crap that has to be exported to the Yanks.

Well, I choked down a few 12 packs of "Victoria Bitters". Nothing like "bitters" in the UK. Kinda resembles "Meisterbrau" of the mid eighties, only more bitter tasting. Beer is VERY expensive, about 14 bucks a twelve pack.

I may not have appreciated the finer beers in Australia, but I made a real Navy try at keeping up.

The "Nelson" pub in downtown Sydney had the finest beers on tap. We ran up quite the tab in short order. I will make my way back to that pub in the near future.

We wrapped up the ten day visit with a proper Indian dinner in the dining district. Very affordable, we fed eleven New Zealanders, South Africans, Scot's, and Welsh (Is no one from Australia???) for about $160 U.S. Very, very nice, we left stuffed.

The trip home was relatively uneventful, excepting that a fine Flight Attendant gave us a bottle of Bubbly to celebrate! (I told him that I wanted to purchase some champagne to celebrate my wife deciding to stay with me...)

Have a fine Navy day.

Welcome Aboard Friday!

I thought I would welcome my two readers aboard, and give the inside tour of Barco Sin Vela.

Barco is a Nova 40 Heritage. Built in Taiwan, for those of us who can't afford a Huckins or Grand Banks!

This particular hull is powered by twin Perkins 200HP diesels, which propel us at the blistering speed of 10 Knots.


Lying in wait, in the background is a Kohler 8KW diesel generator. It ensures that we will be cool in the Summer and warm in the winter. It also powers the icemaker and fridge.

"But, how do ewe drive this behemoth?", you might ask.

We have two stations for controlling this aquatic wildebeest. There is a flybridge, which is the main control position. We have a Garmin 2006 Chartplotter, Raymarine depth and fishfinder (I don't fish), an ancient radar and an equally ancient autopilot. We keep communications with a super-trick-gofast West Marine 650 DSC VHF radio. Get this, you can actually call a specific radio with this. Of course, I have no idea, but the neat features include Lat/Long info which will be digitally sent out if you push the "Mayday" button.

Only the best for our retired boys in uniform!

This is the inside helm. It's for those who can't stand to be outside when the winds and rains bloweth like stink. To a sailboater, I like to think of it as the redundant steering if I lose control upstairs.


I have a smaller chartplotter and a West Marine 550 DSC VHF. Some of the same features as before, just smaller. You can't see it in the photo, since these pics were taken before the big upgrade.

Next are views from upper helm towards the rear. Got to the Sundeck and you can see the entrance to the Salon.





We have a sink and ice maker on the Sundeck, in case you get too winded to go below for water and ice.

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.