We arrived out to the boat on Friday morning. We brought the kayak along, since we would also test out this elusive new kayak cart Brian bought from Amazon. The verdict is still out on this one, as it is not the easiest thing to install (and the way our gate to our dock swings open, it is a PITA, as there are many obstructions to navigate.) After loading up the boat, we took the kayak out for an afternoon trip up Salt Creek, and around USFSP. Brian pointed out that in the USFSP basin (which is also the Harborage Yacht Club area), there was an anchorage. Be advised, boaters- no longer can you anchor here due to a floating buoy which states, “No anchoring. Area Under Construction.” Since I saw no construction whatsoever, it is rather suspect… Anyhoo, it was uneventful yet fun trip (other kayakers seem envious of the pedal drives as we power past them), and we arrived back to the yacht to greet other boat neighbors (there are quite a few new faces on Dock 3) as they commented, “This is the life, isn’t it?” Indeed. The ice maker was full, so it was time to commence cocktail hour.
Our boat neighbor, John had returned and when he saw me, started groveling, “I am a dock-line stealing scoundrel…” You see, when we were supposed to launch in December, we had left really expensive dock lines on the dock (and they are pretty unique) and we unable to launch due to bad weather from Salt Creek. A few days later, we returned to the dock to find our dock lines were gone. Dafuq? Asking around and searching dock to dock left us with no prevail- they were gone. This is a jacked up thing, and I am pretty sure we regaled our story to John, who commented, “That is messed up.” So imagine my horror last weekend to arrive on the boat, mix up a cocktail, look at our neighbor’s boat, and say, “Hey, Brian, I found our missing dock lines.” Initially, Brian did not believe me, “Noooo….” “Seriously, they are ours- complete with sweet website on the tag. I bet if you measure them, they match ours…” And they were. Now, word gets around pretty quickly in a marina. Dave, a Dock 3 resident, greeted John when he returned with, “Oh man, Chris, your boat neighbor, is hot- she said you have her dock lines…Scoundrel!” John did try to give me a sad story, “But, when the previous tenant left, they took my bow line, so I thought they left me these dock lines…” Nonetheless, the lines are back. “I am a scoundrel…” he kept stating as he passed our boat. I think his punishment enough is now having the reputation as a dock-line thief and having to go to Korea for a year.
Saturday- after a sleepless night in the V-Berth sweating (it is pretty hot here for May) while wearing earplugs (fans are loud- even faced on you, it was like an oven), we came to the conclusion that we really are going to need air conditioning in order to survive Summer. We spent the morning on the kayak, going up through north St. Pete. When we got out of the bay, which was choppy, we were greeted by a Police boat. The gentleman looked concerned for us until he drew closer. “Where are you heading?” “Just out in the bay for a bit.” “I am just making sure you are okay. I see you have PFDs, so that is good. Do you have a radio?” “Yes, sir, we have a VHF radio.” “Well, you’re better equipped than most. Don’t go too far. There are a lot of drunk people out on the bay already.” (It was 10 AM- how are people already drunk at 10AM? And all we had to do was listen to the traffic on CH 16, and we knew they were. Who does this?) It was relatively uneventful- the water was choppy, but hot damn, the sail drive pedal propulsion does indeed rock. After seeing some dolphins and trying to capture them on camera, we gave up and made it back to the boat. By then, it was noon. Time flies so fast on the water. We took showers and headed to Saturday Market.
I was starving by then. Brian, based on last weekend’s most delicious trip, just wanted a tamale, but we had to see the St. Pete Taco Lady to see if she lived up to the hype. “Don’t worry- you will get a tamale after Taco Lady…” Lies. The tamale stand had a forlorn sign that stated, “Sold Out” in front of the empty vats that had a few hours prior contained tamale deliciousness… Nonetheless, they did still have horchata, so that was a plus. St. Pete Taco Lady’s wares were pretty good, and we enjoyed them, but damn, it was not a tamale. Nonetheless. I did not see any cheese curds at Stamper’s Cheese, but Brian spotted them on the way out. The dude sadly informed us that would be his last weekend at the market, and I may have wailed, “NOOOO!!!! WHY?!?” And threw a tantrum at market. Yeah yeah, I can still order them and go pick them up at WineSmith- this is too much effort.
When we got back to the boat at almost 2, the clouds were building. It was too choppy for a good sail, and hot- 95+ degrees. Brian, “Do you want to go home?” Well, I really thought the weather would pass, but after melting again at Saturday Market (and commenting to Brian at Saturday Market- “Why did we even bother to shower today?”) said, “Yeah, maybe it is time to go home, despite the fact the forecasters say it won’t hit the boat.” More lies because as soon as we got home, a huge storm popped up in the bay, and the boat got some nasty weather. Ironically, as we were driving home, Brian (having taken 1 semester of Meterology) was telling me about the clouds, energy, and why it was going to rain… Our weather people major in this, and still cannot get it right, Plus, air conditioning is nice. I am not going to lie- I enjoy having a house to escape to in crappy weather, with air conditioning.
Happy sails, Chris