Normal ...

There appears to be serious fault in the world of mathematics, a breach if you will, a gap in our understanding of something as basic as simple addition. All along we have believed that if you add things together, there will be more. It was thought to be a universal law with the only possible exception of Black Holes, where all the laws of physics are thought to break down. But we need to add another place in the cosmos where even simple math can't survive … the hull of a small power boat. For today, demonstrated clearly for all to see, was the fact that if one adds 5 single cylinder minds together and puts them in the hull of a small power boat, there is still only a single cylinder mind available to run the boat. 1+1+1+1+1 = 1! (There is a Nobel prize in here somewhere!)

Eighty plus feet of mini-mega-yacht is sharing the anchorage. It is easily the biggest boat we have even seen drop a hook close to Kintala. The 5 picked a spot just about 50 feet off the bow of the yacht to pitch a hook (pretty much right on his rode) and start fishing. Fishing, it appears, is a very difficult activity requiring one's complete concentration, particularly if one is operating with only a single mental cylinder. The hook, as is normal for small power boats, couldn't find a purchase in the same mud that was holding the mega-yacht fast, and immediately started to drag. Since lures had already been cast and thus absorbing all of their mental capabilities, none of the cylinders on the power boat noticed. Only when their stern nudged to a stop on the yacht's rode where it came out of the water, did it occur to them that something was amiss. Added moments later, perhaps, by words being flung their direction from the crew of the yacht.

So they picked up the hook, powered up, and moved to the exact same spot from which they had started. You already know what happened next. The second time they fetched up at the mega-yacht they decided to try something different. And you already know what that was as well. Their third try at anchoring commenced about 30 feet off of Kintala's bow. It too was a failure, but at least they noticed right away that they were still under way. That bit of mental power might have been added by the fact that both Deb and I were staring right at them and talking somewhat loudly about stupid boater tricks. They pulled the hook again and motored off down the river, the evening's entertainment drawing to a close.

On a different note … Though neither Deb or I are overly fond of FL, particularly in the summer hurricane season, both Kintala and the Dink are now official residents here. Since Kintala is more than 30 years old and still houses her original engine, she is considered an antique. (How little they know.) Total registration cost for both Boat and Dink was around $50. I don't mind being legal so long as it doesn't cost too much.

Its been a few days and got off to a rough start, but life on the hook is starting to feel normal again. The first glitch appeared the day we did our anchoring practice. After 5 months of inactivity our manual anchor windless wouldn't wind, or less. Next time remind the Deck Monkey to clean, lube, and test the thing before pitching the heavy chunk of metal and a long length of chain into the water. (Sometimes my brain doesn't fire on all cylinders either.)

The boat makes different noises when she rides to her anchor, but I have forgotten what some of them are. My eyes pop open in the wee hours of the morning while my fuzzy brain tries to remember what that “clunk” or this “clang” means. And it is taking an effort to get back in the habit of checking the weather, the RADAR, and the batteries several times a day. Living on the hook means living far closer to the edge then anyone living in a building, or even on a dock, can imagine. Paying attention is required, a skill grown rusty sitting cocooned in a web of dock lines. But, like I said, it is starting to feel normal again.

Today the wind shifted to the NE. It was a bit cooler and the humidity dropped into the 60s instead of the being in the 90s. Clouds tamed the infrared from the sun, a near perfect day. So what came to my mind? Varnish! And by the end of the day the first coat was laid on both the helm and the cockpit table.

Dragging power boats. Official paperwork. Brightwork. Yep. Normal.