Just A Little Socially Redeeming Value? Nah!
Last Saturday, as the sun peeped above the horizon at our little ranchero, I arose from the ol' pallet with solid plans for the day. First we get a little coffee into the system, maybe followed by breakfast (the same semi-healthy repast that used to stiffen the backbone as well as infuse the nerve endings with energy for a 12-hour day of deer hunting in the Adirondacks, i.e., two eggs over medium, four strips of bacon, a heaping heap of home fries, and a glass of OJ). And then we head for the marina where Great Things were gonna happen.
Like, for example, putting three new blades on Betty Jane's wipers. Or reefing out a strip of caulk between a couple of her deck planks on the port side where wetness seems to be lingering after washdowns these days. Or fixing the little tear in the weather cloth on the port side of the flying bridge with my nifty nautical sewing kit.
Things fell apart en route, however.
The coffee and powerhouse breakfast fizzled on me and I began yawning and yawning and YAWNING, despite the fact that I'd gotten a decent night's sleep. And then (believe it or not, Mr. Ripley), when I stepped into Betty's teak-paved cockpit, things got dramatically worse.
Whooooo. Such a wickedly enervating lethargy overcame me that, after stumbling through into the saloon, I fell onto the starboard settee as if I'd been pole-axed.
Jeeeesh! I just had time to grab my Amazon Kindle on the way down.
I love reading about boats while laying around boats, you know. So whilst in the horizontal position and still tentatively maintaining consciousness, I began reading a chapter (see photo above, snapped by my wife BJ) in a Webb Chiles round-the-worlder.
Nothing beats vicariously enjoying danger and privation on the high seas, by the way, while relaxing in air-conditioned comfort with your head on a pillow and a box of Hot Tamales, a lovely semi-healthy (or rather, maybe not so healthy but still delicious) confection I'm quite fond of, at the ready.
Eventually I went to sleep, of course. And this development causes me to confess here and now that I spent whole hours onboard Betty Jane this past weekend doing absolutely nothing. I mean, I didn't accomplish a blessed thing, other than to check out the engine room while throwing the valve for the air-conditioning system, first for starters, then for enders. No wiper blades. No reefing tool. No sewing kit.
All this is new, too.
But it's also wonderful. I never even managed to finish Webb's chapter! And, as you can see from the other photo my wife took (see above), Betty was lookin' pretty good when we left her, despite the depths of indulgence I indulged in.