Weather forecast for December 18, 2016:
Turner Marine, Dog River, Mobile, Alabama
Rain, low 42 high 70.
Southwest winds 8 to 13 knots becoming north 18 to 23 knots.
Light chop becoming choppy to rough.
Captain’s Log: December 9 – December 17, 2016
A very "Happy 30th Birthday!" to my boy, James Lee. I just can’t believe that my baby is 30 years old. Where has the time gone?
Our carpenter, Joel, told us about his hometown of Fairhope, Alabama. Fairhope is situated on a sloping plateau along the eastern cliffs of Mobile Bay. In 2007 Fairhope was named the second best small town in the south by Southern Living magazine. Joel also told us that Fairhope is a popular wintering spot for artists and intellectuals and that is has a bohemian, avant-garde feel. We decided that we had to investigate this allegedly charming little town.
By boat, Fairhope is a short 45-minute cruise directly across the Bay from our location on the Dog River. On a clear night I can stand at the bow of the boat and see the distant lights of Fairhope across the water. By car it is a two-hour journey as one has to head north through the city of Mobile, cross the Interstate 10 bridge and then down the eastern shore through Daphne, Alabama.
On Friday, December 9th, we stopped working on the boat in the early afternoon and headed, once again, to our friend Jeff’s house in Pensacola; this time via Fairhope. We were not disappointed. Fairhope is indeed a charming, unconventional and very picturesque little town. It has a bit of a ‘Yellow Springs, Ohio’ feel; off-beat in a very interesting and satisfying way. We walked around town, stopped at an ice cream parlor and then headed down to the city pier to watch the sun sink into the Bay.
After leaving Fairhope we continued our Pensacola-bound journey and headed for Gulf Shores, Alabama, where we stopped at a restaurant on the Intra-Coastal Waterway (ICW) called ‘The Diner’. Twelve-or-so people were arranged around the bar but we were able to find two adjacent, unoccupied stools. We claimed our seats, sat down and, before we could order drinks, one of the “regulars” came over. Taking a position directly behind us, he placed his left hand on my right shoulder and launched into (what turned out to be) an evening-long conversation. He began by introducing himself and then he proceeded to introduce the bar tender and everyone sitting at the bar to us. I don’t remember any names.
For some strange reason, the entire group of snow-birds adopted us as their newest, best friends. We had a wonderful time talking to the gentleman (retired Navy) and his wife (sweet, drunken, slurring her words) to our right. We laughed with the bar tender and the head waitress (husband and wife). We read the birthday card and wished the older gentleman (also retired Navy) sitting across the bar from us a Happy 89th Birthday. We listened to the life story of our forward new friend (a Vietnam veteran and staunch Trumpster). A wonderful time was had by all and, after a delicious meal, we promised to stop by The Diner every time we pass through Gulf Shores on our way to/from Pensacola.
On Saturday morning, December 12th, we woke up to a dead car battery. Fortunately, we had jumper cables. Shirley walked to the house next door and asked for a jump. A friendly guy in a beat-up, white, Chevy Silverado soon pulled up and within ten minutes we were running again and on our way to Wal-Mart, about three miles down the road, for a new battery. The Wal-Mart ‘mechanic’ told us that it would be about 90 minutes before they could get us in for the battery swap so we tossed him the keys and headed to the strip-mall across the street.
It was close to lunchtime so we ducked into Vallarta Sorrento, a very typical, gaudy, strip-mallish Mexican restaurant. The place was ablaze in Christmas lights and festive decorations; we could not connect to the Internet but the food was great. The Jeep was soon back in action and we headed off happy with our good fortune (the dead battery was almost a non-event) and content with our full bellies.
While driving through downtown Pensacola on our way to Fort Pickens we found ourselves behind two large parade floats being towed by pickup trucks. The floats turned into a large parking lot that was full of other floats; obviously, there was going to be a Christmas Parade through downtown Pensacola that evening. We had a dinner date with our friends Nate and Glenda that evening but Shirley ‘googled’ the details of the parade and we leaned that we had enough time to catch the parade before meeting Nate and Glenda. Fort Pickens would have to wait.
Being blessed with an exceptional intellect, significant creative powers and many other impressive natural abilities too numerous to mention here, it occurred to me that, rather than wait for the parade to pass by us, our time would be better spent and our experience would be greatly enhanced if we passed by the parade instead. So that is exactly what we did.
The floats were lined up, all facing north, on either side of Spring Street. The sun had set and the floats were shimmering in their multi-colored splendor. Anticipating the start of the parade, all of the excited participants, the costumed float riders, the drivers, the marching bands, and the Shriner’s, each wearing a tarboosh headdress and sash, were laughing, dancing and having a large time in the street between the rows of floats. Starting at what was the back of the parade formation and the last float, we walked straight through all of this merriment, joining in, snapping pictures and soliciting for beads (Shirley, not me) until we reached the first float. We then made a U-turn and worked our way back to the end, doubling our enjoyment. I will never stand at the curb and watch a parade pass by again.
That evening we met our friend Nate and his fiancé Glenda at their house on Bayou Chico, an inlet off of Pensacola Bay. Nate owns Annabell, a Vagabond 47. We originally met Nate through The Vagabond Owner’s Group on Facebook and had previously toured Annabell while she (and Nate) were still living in Muskegon, Michigan.
Nate and Glenda were wonderful hosts, giving us a tour of their lovely home and dock (in the back yard, twenty yards from their porch) and then treating us to a great meal at The Fish House. We, in turn, treated Nate and Glenda to lunch on Sunday and then went to the Pensacola Shipyard and toured Annabell again.
We were very tired when we finally made it back to the boat late Sunday afternoon.
We made great progress on the boat during the week. Among the most notable accomplishments were the selection and purchase of the two commodes and the purchase of the bottom paint. The commodes and the paint should arrive within five business days but it will take at least another week after delivery before we can decommission the bucket. I also began preliminary work on the masts, breaking out the spreaders and studying the instructions for mounting the spreader lights and micro-blocks. I also fixed the remaining deck leaks so I am very hopeful that we will remain high and dry during our next downpour.
On Friday evening, December 16th, we joined our new friends Wayne and Alyce on their 35ft steel-hulled trawler Aurora B for cocktails. We had originally invited Wayne and Alice to join us and our other new friends Jerry and Margot for a night of bar-hopping in downtown Mobile but their dog has a urinary tract infection and could not be left alone. After one bourbon on-the-rocks and a very interesting conversation we bid Wayne and Alice a fond adieu, met up with Jerry and Margot and headed downtown.
Downtown was a bust; absolutely dead; nothing happening. After one beer for Shirley, Jerry and Margot (I was driving) we headed back to the marina.
The next afternoon (Saturday, December 17th) Jerry and Margot invited us to Let It Be, their massive, 44ft, tri-level Gulf Star motor yacht, for a spaghetti dinner. Great food and great conversation! Jerry’s parents were Southern Baptist missionaries in Rhodesia (Zimbabwe). Margot’s grandparents migrated to Rhodesia from Great Britton and she met Jerry at age 10 in the church school pastored by Jerry’s parents. They have two daughters and a son. Jerry is a retired FedEx pilot who flew the Boing 777 all over the world and Margot was a stay-at-home mother. They bought the Gulf Star in Nashville, their hometown, on a whim two months ago and began their ‘great loop’ adventure a short two weeks ago; neither has any boating experience.
Jerry and Margot decorated Let It Be with Christmas lights, but they can't compete with Perfect Love.
I’m getting writer’s cramp.
Until next time, may your tomorrow bring fair winds and following seas!