Okay, no we didn’t. Marina del Rey is in California. We know that because we’ve ridden bikes through it. But we did end the day at the Delray municipal marina in Delray Beach, so this is probably our only chance to work in that particular George Strait song. We do like a good George Strait song, and that’s one of them.
Out of Lauderdale this morning at 9, just as planned. Only one arm on the first bridge was working, but we slipped through without worries.
The local school bus was delivering kids to school, or at least that’s what it looked like to us.
At the second bridge, a 130-foot dinner cruise ship—Catalina—almost ran up our butt. Over the radio the Captain sounded like a New York wiseguy, however, and we had no interest in winding up like Tessio and Carlo, so we stood down and let him pass us.
Turned out to be a good thing, because he ended up as our fullback all day long. We just tucked in behind and tried not to fumble.
Along the ICW today we learned a few things. For example, iguanas have worked their way north to bridge fenders in Lauderdale-By-The-Sea.
No matter where you are, people put couches in places that look stupid.
There are sports we can take up after we’re too old for pickleball.
Some people own boats that cost way more than their house.
Doug’s ability to land a drone on Misty Pearl’s deck isn’t all that special.
And apparently Deb and Tom don’t get credit for our run of good luck after all. The Florida DOT has the bridges synchronized so that once you get through the first one it’s pretty clear cruising.
Orin from Green Eyes greeted us as we docked. We’d never met in person, but we first saw their boat in Charlevoix and have seen them on Nebo along the way since. Nice folks. He and Sherry came over for a visit, after we visited the Silverball Museum, dedicated to the preservation of pinball machines.
In human years, Benny’s getting somewhere between shuffleboard and gravestones. We’ve been relegated to pushing him around in a stroller when he gets tired of walking. He seems to like it. Doug wants one for himself.
Anyway, the Delray Beach municipal marina is much more like the places we’ve come to love on the Loop. Smallish. Reasonably-sized boats. Wooden splintery docks. Poop bags for the boys. A nice view of the neighborhood. It fits us comfortably, like an old shoe.