I go out sailing by myself. Wind & water medium to getting hard- especially since I was getting out there. Way past the - well out there. Had put the jib wrong & couldn't get her to turn, so I had to jibe- turn her ass end into the wind. Wind this high, it probably wasn't a good idea to throw it over so quick, she went in less than a heartbeat & it was EXCITING. Lost the solar shower. Oh well. 5 gallons of fresh water in there, too. Do it a few more times. Another mile out or so & I do it again, but this time, I go over the side! Probably should have sat down long ago. Did a cartwheel & hit my ribs on the way out. Second time on this sailing trip I nailed my ribs. Damn! Guy that owns the boat (just paid it off, but he still has title) taught me to sail. Boat Dude, Panic Man. Patience of Jesus Christ Himself. Never a cross word! He was right, thankfully. Boat will go into the wind & stop. Oh, thank Neptune! I'm a good swimmer, but I'm at least 4 miles out & I knocked the wind out of me. Bruised some ribs & a boobie. Ok, so a few hours later, I'm ready to take a break, maybe pack it in for the day, make lunch. Still clipping. Boat's leaning all the way. Wind isn't the right direction to get to where I know I got sandy bottom, so I try to start that fucking motor that Boat Owner Guy (slower than mud) hasn't showed me 3 times yet. He doesn't understand Brainleen yet & that's ok. I'd really rather skip the full explanation if I can help it (it becomes clear I can't, but not necessarily from this one- uh oh). Motor needs help, but I had got it started a few times before I left my anchor that morning, knowing the wind, so I wouldn't have the worst problems getting back- wind was just a touch south.
Sails still up- see land way out there- go & work on starting on the motor. Hey, what do u know, got it going! Oppp. Nope. Pull. Pull. Pull. Pull. Yep. Jesus Christ Mother Fucker Mississippi Goddamn!!! I've got a huge rock jetty not 20 feet away now. Whaaa??? Emergency stop on motor, hop a few things & throw the anchor & cleat it a few feet past the chain. It's a public park I know. People fishing. Looks like a thousand eyes looking at me. Probably 50 people max. I had to keep my hands busy not to panic. Put the sails & tie down. 5 minutes. Light a ciggie & pace. I'm fucked. I have no clue how to get to get out of this one. I won't call Boat Dude for anything if I can help it for a few reasons- 1-he stresses easy, just stresses. Doesn't point that at me, but why stress him out when time, tide & a few bruises will fix the problem. I know I'll figure it out. 2- i'd rather call for big shit like this then all the stupid little shit you wouldn't believe I could possibly fuck up. Everybody's got their limit, so don't push it- I'll fix that shit as good as new. 3-I gotta figure for as easy going as this guy is (& as attached & loves this little boat -freaking rebuilt it 100 percent) there's got to be a point where he explodes. I was right. So very right.
So, I text. Of course, Slower Than Mud takes awhile to get the text- like 10 chain smoked ciggies. feels like FOREVER, but understands I'm panicking now. Clear, short words- good advice. I take a hour or so to get it all done. Forget what it's called, but gets me some distance from the rocks by using the other anchor to pull the boat out to water, put the sails up & get the motor going. What I don't know is-there's no forward thrust on that fucker. He told me it was in perfect working order, but it never was. UGH! Anyway, I did something extra stupid & put the sails up. Can you tell I'm really new to sailing? I guessed the wind wrong wrong wrong. Pull the anchor & go right over into the rocks...
Know, you can only imagine how much this Little Pony means to me. I'm not losing her this easy. If there's going to be a hole in this boat, I swear to God, if I can help it at all, there's gonna be a hole in me too. So, you know I jumped off between the boat & the rocks- and took a hard slam against the rocks. I went under right when the world turned Bright White. Bad time to forget to inhale. That's when I broke a rib & dislocated two. Breathing White Lightening from that point on, by the way. I can laugh about it now. I remember screaming for help when i came up, but NOT ONE FUCKER MOVED UNTIL I CAME UP & SCREAMED FOR HELP. Probably as shocked as I was. It all moved in slow motion for a few minutes. About 6-8 people jumped in & got me & my girl into the harbor. It didn't really get easier yet.
Now I got each one of them giving me directions. Trying to get me out of there. Each one a man. Probably none of them sailors. Didn't sound like it. Did that fucker just hop on my boat without asking? Yep. Ummm, I know my stress level is high, I'm hurt, I'm also from Baltimore where it is rude rude rude to go where you are not invited at least for the first time (these people down here!)... I know this is a emergency, but he wasn't doing anything like getting lines or pulling sails- I WAS STILL DOING THAT. Imagine putting up or down that mainsail when you have a broken rib puncturing a lung & these fuckers sound like the Tower of Babel. Angel (found out his name later) from Kokomo. Ummm (I did invite him to stay the night after he brought me dinner that night. Umm Latin, coco brown beautiful, bright smile & just looking at me so, I don't know...) comes up & tells me to sit down, they'll hold the boat... take a breath... yeah, I kind of need one...I look around & the motherfucken rudder is floating away! Nooooooo. How on asslick mountain? I'm gonna nut punch Boat Dude... I'm getting unreasonably wound up. Now we got Colleen swimming out & getting it. It was almost gone to open water. Too bad the boat never even got close to getting there. Colleen was FUNNY! Biker chick funny. I'm not even going there, but I was venting at that point. Venting to Colleen about how i was going to legendarily fuck Boat Dude, but not now! She was right there with me, winding me up. Love her. Really really really venting. Probably winding myself up too much, but I did not know that then. All the men are silent, by the way.
Almost a hour of trying we end up tying to the public dock, but not before Castro (Antonio- the golf cart riding, county park manager) comes & starts hollering at me at. Can't tell me you can work at a county park & not speak English. Accent laid on way to thick. He's 20 feet away & speaking way too fast. Angel tells him I don't speak Spanish & what the problem is. That's Castro's first pass.
Cut to a dozen people all around. Most of them on my boat. Doing all sorts of things. Picking through my shit. It was like being a kindergarten teacher all the sudden. None of them helpful. Instant human seagulls. When the hell did this happen? None of them were the ones that helped push me. I got people standing around just watching me, too, as if I'm behind glass- actually standing there talking like I can't hear them & they are just feet away! I'm in a nightmare. I've got so much do do before my boat really starts crunches the dock or the slip badly. And, Oh, how I like to be watched. Yeah, make me the center of attention. I'd rather have the noose, Your Honor. But I got to eat it. Got no choice. I got people all over my boat.
This jackass is throwing my anchor into the lines the fishermen had out all day & there was 180 degrees of open water to use! Plus he had his feet in the lines. -Listen Jackass, I don't care if you are a Navy Admiral, I paid for everything on this boat- you don't touch a fucking thing without my say so. And never throw a line with any body part even close to that line. Skin burn. Now I gotta fix your mess & my own. Get the fuck off my boat now or hit the water. One... two... he got off right there & then. I was going to push him into those lines. Now some motherfucker just came out of my cabin! No fucking way! OH MY GOD! EVERY ASSHOLE OFF MY BOAT NOW! (These weren't the people that had helped me anyway. None of them. I think they went to dry off or catch their own breaths. It was some hard ass work). I turn around & there's Castro standing there watching me. Arms crossed. Great. He calls me over. In Spanish. Speaks to me ONLY in Spanish. Ever notice how stubbornness breeds stubbornness? Speedy Gonzalez. Rapido rapido rapido. I still haven't gotten my hands on any pain killers yet. Every fucken breath hurts. I hear him say- can't stay, the police are coming & the one that's pissing me off... -where's my man? I say nothing except -I know you speak English & I don't speak Spanish (yeah, right- lie to me & see what you get). I've had a hard day & I'm sorry about this mess. I need you to understand, but if you just won't, I'll be happy to talk to the police, at least they'll speak English to me. So, I got all the piss-ants off my boat & I go below. You just know I'm crushing those pills. Chewing those babies. I can't help if alls it is is asprin, i'm believing them to be goodies & that'll do for me. I need 30 second Mercy. This is 30 minutes past due at least. My hair looks like a bird got caught in it. Take care of all this shit. Getting texts from Panic Man-current boat title holder. I should have told him all was good. Told him I was gonna need bail. He shows up later outside the park 5 minutes after it closed & Castro wouldn't let him in. Good 'ol Classic Castro!
I get some tools out to try to fix the rudder. Knowing this guy, if the underpinnings came off, there will be a replacement set in a obvious place, probably two sets. He has the 'original, the backup & the backup to the backup' down to a science! I don't think he realizes what a saving grace a thing like that is, not just in boating- in everything. Or maybe he does & just plays dumb. Not smart to do so, but I don't know him well & that's his business. He's always five minutes late for the door, so it's hard to know what his thought process is. I see no underpinnings or anything like that. Find out later that he has it set to break away just for situations like this. Better to retrieve it than break it. Damn. Schooled me again! Amazed constantly how much there is to learn (probably never coming back to dry land) & how many creative ways this guy can find to do the same thing. Not dumb. A unique kind of mind I haven't encountered before. I also need some tools to look at the baby Honda motor. Can't understand why it did absolutely nothing. NOTHING. But then again, I really could have fucked that up. I haven't a clue what I'm looking at anyway, but everything is attached. The two things are right next to each other, so I'm out there, after I go & make sure all my sails are secure & my lines are clean. I'm out there doing my thing & there's Castro, @ 50 feet away, sitting in his golf cart, watching me. Just watching me. I'm spitting vile Arabic from between my teeth, waiting for the cops, I suppose.
You'd think I would have calmed down, but it's not like I'm getting a half an hour to myself. This is all piling on top of me. Castro comes back right after I bang my finger. Really hurt. Got it in my mouth, looking at him with hateful eyes. And he's giving me shit in Spanish again. Yeah, I'm very, very angry calm & quiet, so I understand a whole lot more of what he's saying. He's saying, I can't dock here. Sheriff's coming. I'm going to jail, boat impounded. Where's my man? You know how to use those tools? (Said those last two in perfect English) I exploded! -OH MY GOD!!! (Actually called him Castro, not Antonio- don't think he caught it) -CASTRO! Boobs don't make me stupid! New to sailing makes me stupid! Pain makes me stupid! I'm sorry for the mess & taking up your space, I'm working on it. I made a stupid mistake getting in this position & I broke a rib saving my boat.
At this point I get shit on by a SkyRat. (Fucking seagulls- all those fishermen & their shit) right in front of him & let out a sick little giggle. -Yeah, this isn't even close to the worst part of my day (as it drips down my favorite sweater). He's got his hands in his pockets, looking down, shuffling his feet like a little boy now. - Look, today you are my man & I'm asking you to have some understanding. Oh, no, I am way past reasonable. No explaining my behavior or actions to a judge. I haven't budgeted bail. I'll be sitting in there forever in Florida, I know how I react to being forced to do anything. It's just not Pretty Me Anything. I'm wrong wrong wrong. But I'm so far down this path I can't back up & I can't even see straight enough to know why. Castro surprises me (why am I getting surprised so much lately? Odd for me). Castro tells me OK. Now he's speaking English Only. I can stay. He'll call the Sheriff. Friend of his. I'm OK. Gotta be gone by 7:30 am. No problem. -Thank you. Won't even leave my boat.
I'm not even gonna go into the million little pieces Boat Dude exploded into. He had every right. He was spot on. Didn't beat me up for anything thing that I wasn't saying to myself. Oh, one thing & I'm surprised it sticks in my craw. He made a nasty comment about my bike the second he hopped on the boat. ASSHOLE RULES THE NAVY! Now you know that's like talking about somebody's Mama. I've seen grown, seemingly reasonable men pull guns on each other & a hundred people hit the dirt. Hot springs biker rally. This was not biker gang types, either. Boat Dude crossed a line, but I stayed silent. He was wound up. Had to fix the motor & tow my boat like 6 miles. Let him spin, it's just words. Whatever. I would have lost my shit on me long, long before. Lost the keel line like two weeks before- no clue how (oh, couldn't have been my fault, maybe?) & he had to fix it. He was mildly miffed for a micro-second. Oh my God!
Nobody ever told me how Dangerous Sailing was! I should have been out here years ago. I'm having the time of my life. Don't ever want it to end.
