Month: March 2019

While in Orange Beach, we missed Mallory’s college roommate’s great-aunt and -uncle by mere seconds.   They chased us the first part of the Loop in their Grand Banks Trust Your Cape, then passed us when we stopped at The Wharf.  We headed to Marathon and they cut across Okeechobee to their home outside of Stuart.  We turned up the St. Lucie River basically to finally meet them.

Great folks, and not just because they brought over a car we could use to re-provision.  They also hosted us for a wonderful evening at their home.  But even without all that we really enjoyed them.  Jack even sang that Guy Clark classic while playing a guitar he made himself.  Way cool.

When we docked yesterday we focused so much on the American Tugs that we only gave a sideways glance at Tanuki, a Great Harbor N37 we first met on Staten Island more than nine months ago.  Jerry and Sam stopped by to chat.  Fortunately they’d gone into the city when we docked at Great Kills Yacht Club, so they missed what was our worst docking experience prior to Palm Harbor.

Over on B Dock, we found yet another sister Selene 43, this one a non-Looper named Duet.  Unfortunately nobody was home.

Even more unfortunately, nobody was home on Josephine.  Josephine is a Selene 59.  We would’ve given up wine (for a day or two) to get a look aboard.  Gorgeous boats.

Anyway, the point is that Sunset Bay was a pretty cool stop.  Lots of friendly people and interesting boats.

Tomorrow off for the short trip to Fort Pierce.  We have business to conduct with some Navy SEALS.

The worst thing about leaving Stuart for Fort Pierce is that we left empty handed in terms of Poop.  That’s the local pump-out boat.  We didn’t need a pump out, but we wanted to get a photo of Poop.  Oh well.  We’ll live.

Big wind yesterday but we took off anyway.  Pretty much big wind the whole way.  The Fort Pierce municipal marina said to radio when we reached the bridge.  We did, and they said “Come on in.”  We did, and they said “Oops, we need to dock a couple of other boats first.”  “Watch out for the wind and the current.”  After we spent fifteen minutes or so fighting to keep off the rocks, they told us to come on around.  But “Watch out for the wind and the current.”  In fact, they kept repeating the warning.  And we got in just fine.  See how that works Palm Harbor?

Today was a visit to the Navy SEAL museum.

We know a bit about the SEALs, because from the comfort of our towels and umbrellas we’ve seen them training on the Coronado beach.  We’ve shared special moments sort of near them in Danny’s Palm Bar.  But this was extra extra cool.  No replicas here.  Real stuff.

Like a Blackhawk helicopter that actually was in the Blackhawk Down Mogadishu engagement.

There was a great exhibit on the operation that took down Osama bin Laden.  And the actual lifeboat from the Maersk Alabama, with the bullet holes and blown-out window.

So tonight we watched Captain Phillips again.  If you’re a Somali pirate in a hijacked lifeboat and U.S. Navy ships with SEAL snipers pull up so they can draw a bead on your forehead, you probably should rethink your life choices while you still have the chance.  Anyway, there also were weapons and boats and a bunch of other cool things.  This museum is on the must-see list for sure.

The other best thing about today was The Lower Place showing up unexpectedly.  A fun dinner followed.  We love us some Charlie and Robin.

One more thing.  Two days ago was the one-year anniversary of us leaving Arizona to move on a boat.  To paraphrase Professor Nathaniel Burke, in the past year we’ve learned a thing or two because we’ve done a thing or two.

Tuesday the wind died down but the rain came.  It almost was like Muskegon, or Ludington but without the Badger.  We all stayed inside—which the boys liked just fine.  Except when we had to take them outside—which they liked not so much.  Somewhere in there is a parody of the classic Everly Brothers song about crying in the rain.

The rain took away pickleball but gave us the end of season 2.  Mags and Coover and Doyle Bennett all are dead, leaving weasely Dickie to face Raylan and Boyd Crowder, after Boyd turned good then bad again and now has taken sweet Ava down the dark road with him.  An Uber driver recently told us unsolicited stories about how the big mining company scared her parents into selling their eastern Kentucky farm and how her dad constantly has to guard the new farm against the druggies.  We thought Justified was implausible, but maybe not.  All we know for certain is that UK sucks and Paducah was awesome.

Vero Beach was fine, but would have been more fine if it still was Dodgertown.  The Dodgers took their ball and left some time ago, however, leaving only memories.  Like memories of when The Rifleman suited up for Brooklyn.  (Not the cheating Auburn dirtbag who stole the nickname and now will be playing forward for the prison team, but the real one.)  Being from Arizona we hate the Dodgers but still would’ve hit up a spring training game if given the opportunity.

Thanks to Doug’s amazing former assistant Sharon the mail arrived this week.  We kind of know how the pioneers must’ve felt while waiting for the express ponies to come along.  Anyway, as often is the case the sun finally came out, so we enjoyed Vero Beach.

Before leaving, we got back to pickleball, the wind kicked up again, and we watched some more Justified.  By the way, congratulations to Chris and Heather.  We didn’t meet them but anyone who posts an open wedding invitation on a marina restroom door is pretty cool by us.

Today we headed out, anxious to get docked in Melbourne in time for a little March Madness.

All games are live streamed on CBS app but watching basketball while trying to stay in a narrow channel with uncharted shoaling at every turn might’ve been unwise.

When we left the dock, the sun was warm and the wind was light.  “Wow.  Dana, can you bring me up some shorts and a short-sleeve t-shirt?”

Literally two minutes later it all changed.  “Damn.  Dana, can you bring me some fuzzy socks and a fleece pullover?”  Mostly the four-hour trip was on the cool side and looked a lot like other cool narrow stretches of water we’ve seen but never tire of seeing.

We docked in Melbourne and went to dinner with Charlie (The Lower Place).

Robin had gone back to Mississippi for some reason.  As if there’s any good reason to go to Mississippi.

PSA: Anyone who likes good service should skip Ole’ Fire & Grill.

Here are the boys, just because the girls say we don’t include enough photos of their brothers.

Before breakfast Doug broke out the drone.  Not so much because there was spectacular stuff to video but mostly just to keep up the droning skills and to buzz The Lower Place.  Dana walked the boys.

On the subject of breakfast, Doug drafted a riff on black water and our meal with Charlie this morning.  Dana the editor then noted that the joint actually was “Backwater,” not “Blackwater.”  That makes much more sense, of course, but they really should make the signage clearer.  (In his defense, only one of Doug’s eyes works properly.)  So we took out all the good stuff since it was inapplicable to “backwater.”  Anyway the food was delicious.  Which redeemed Melbourne a bit after the Ole’s debacle.

Off at 10 for the short cruise up to the Cocoas.  The Vols were scheduled to tip off at 2:45 and one of us was determined to be tied up well in advance.

Some of the ICW has been narrow.  Not today.  Today was more like lake crossing.

In fact, it felt a lot like that time we crossed Oneida Lake behind Second Wave after what history books call “The Incident in Lock 21.”  Except today we weren’t shaking from a brush with death.

Under the bridge and a hard turn to port took us into Cocoa Village Marina.

Easy docking and then time for a quick lunch.  And time to stop by Travis Hardware.  Travis Hardware supposedly is the most awesome hardware store in the country.  Everyone said it’s a must-stop.  The place has been in business since 1885.

That makes it really old and really cool, but that’s not what makes it awesome.  Nope.

Travis Hardware has endless aisles with floor-to-ceiling stuff you typically don’t find in hardware stores.

That makes it really interesting and really cool, but that’s not what makes it awesome.  Nope.

What makes Travis Hardware awesome are the decorations.  

UT stuff everywhere.  Turns out the owner, his wife, and their daughters all graduated from Tennessee.  Clearly that’s a sign from God that the Vols will win the tournament, although the close call over Colgate today may suggest otherwise.

On the way out to dinner we passed what turned out to be a big concert.  No way we were going in, but we did sneak a back-stage photo through the fence.

If it had been, say, The Possum or The Hag, we would’ve paid and gone in, and not just because they’re both dead.  RIP Possum and Hag.  But it was that loud rock-and-roll music that leads in a straight line to premarital sex and hard drugs and then eternal damnation, so we passed.

We’ll be here for the weekend.