Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Feeling a little guilty …



Kintala has found her way to the Miami Stadium anchorage after two nearly perfect day sails. The first saw us leaving No Name for a place called Sands Key. No Name is fun, protected, and has good shore access. We like it. But after a week of sharing it with about as many of my fellow human beings as could be jammed into the place, sanity called for a change. Sands Key was the perfect antidote. One other boat was parked not that nearby with the next nearest being miles away. City lights shown on the west horizon, even more miles away. To the east was pure night filled with stars, and we slept the sleep of the truly privileged.

This morning at the anchorage


This morning dawned perfect for slipping on a sweatshirt and sipping coffee in the cockpit. Clear water, quiet winds, and the promise of a good day's work using the forecast south winds to head back north (just for the shear fun of it) made the coffee taste that much better. And, after sailing off the anchor, that's exactly what we did. It took several tacks to work our way out between the shallows and back to the channel. Jib, staysail, and main kept us tight on the wind and moving quick. Once clear, Kintala put the winds to her stern. The main and staysail were tucked away for the rest of the day, and the jib pulled relentlessly north. A few downwind jibes got us to the Rickenbacker Causeway near high tide, and it was an easy motor into the anchorage.



Back in the heartland, winter drags on. Daughter Middle put up a post on her family sight about sniffles, coughs, runny noses, and the relentless weight of yet another snow storm and more near zero temperatures. With the clan housebound, she mused of loading them all into the van, driving to Florida, swimming to the Islands, and joining us on the boat. (They wouldn't have to actually swim to the Islands as we haven't gotten that far yet.) How can Grampy T not feel at least a little bit guilty over not having enough boat to fit them all?


Another mystery boat. Anybody know what this is?
Having such a boat, of course, would mean having a boat full of money. It seems to me that accumulating such boat fulls of money usually (not always, but usually) requires hurting someone, stealing from someone, or taking money off of stupid people. The first two are no-goes for me, but the last? Maybe I should have been a boat broker? Or perhaps a TV evangelist? My last paycheck came from a casino company, which is kind of like taking money off of stupid people. Anyone playing the slots with the idea of striking it rich has about as much a chance of that happening as they do of having a TV preacher punch their ticket direct to heaven. Unfortunately those who own casinos keep most what they get from the not-so-bright. Not much of it trickles down to those who actually do the work of providing a satisfactory and enjoyable gambling experience for our valued guests. (The same is true of every business I have ever run across.)

Henry the wind vane steering the boat.

Alas, boat brokers, TV evangelists, and casino owners are not my favorite kinds of people. Looking in a mirror and seeing one of them looking back would be a disappointment. Still, if that mirror was hanging in a boat big enough for a full crew of Kids and Grand Kids …

But such is not the case. So tonight I think of loved ones far away, hoping their winter of discontent ends soon, and that, someday (a few of them at a time) manage to find their way to Kintala; in wherever non-winter place she may be.

1 comment:

Ken and Deb said...

TV preachers. One night we came into Austin Aero and parked next to a brand new Gulfstream. Talked to the pilots and got a tour. Had a custom interior (as most do) with a hidden wet bar. They said the owner's wife did not like the original colors and sent it back for a 2 million redo. It belonged to Jimmie Swaggert. They were in for a basketball game.