Last week, I wrote about my father's yacht spotting shutterbug ways and asked which boats you'd seen recently. Almost immediately after hitting "Post" my inbox pinged with a note from Capt. Bill Pike. He'd spotted a couple while working hard on Italy's Amalfi coast reporting on the Maestro 82 for an upcoming issue.
I shot the photo shown above while solo-cruising Betty Jane just this past weekend. I say solo-cruising because my wife BJ did not exactly declare that she wouldn't join me but somehow, at the last minute more or less, found an excuse for not going along. The reasoning behind her decision was an elemental one, I suspect, albeit quite common in the Sunny South this time of year.
As the sun began its downward track, I looked around the picnic table at the group of our friends laughing as they enjoyed cheese and crackers and crisp, chilled white wine. We were gathered on a yacht-club deck to celebrate as Father’s Day drew to a close. Our young children played nearby in the golden light before the backdrop of the mooring field and Long Island Sound beyond.
Welp, it's that time of year again. I'm headed down to the Brett T. Bailey Mako Rodeo out of Hoffman's Marina in Brielle, NJ, tomorrow. Ahh, the old stomping grounds. I love getting down to the Jersey Shore in the summertime. Just me, the Boss, and the Situation palling around together on the boardwalk, sharing cotton candy, rocking out to Bon Jovi, maybe grabbing some late night cheeseballs. Fantastic.
I remember the constant battle every time my parents and I set out to spend a day on our boat. I was 13, and all I wanted to do was spend time on the water without a personal flotation device strapped about me.
Just recently, I had the good fortune to be cruising along the Amalfi Coast with my wife in an altogether lovely Maestro 82 motoryacht. The day was a beaut, of course. The weather tends to be warm this time of year in Italy, or at least along her shores. But it's seldom what you'd call hot, at least by North Florida standards.
I mark my time as editor of PMY with a number of technological milestones. One was when we got our first fax machine. (Until then we relied on the U.S. Mail and something called a telex, whose mysteries I could never fathom.)
When the bell on our machine sounded, the staff would all gather ‘round to watch a fuzzy, streaky document spool out. We were as enraptured as relatives of the deceased at a séance. Actually reading the thing was another matter.
A dramatic reenactment.*
The Venice art biennale is in full swing right now. Since 1895, the festival has brought together artists of every discipline ...as well as those who can afford to purchase their art.