Well, Mark is out on some boat, probably getting the crap beat out of him by this weather on the way to the Virgin Islands. My uncle is planning a trip to Long Island with Rio Dulce and a couple other boats. And I am here with my Grandparents who refuse to budge from our current spot. We actually, instead of moving to a calmer anchorage, put down a third anchor yesterday when the wind started to pick up. So now where there used to be about 40 boats in our little anchorage, there are more like 15, and they are almost all crazy Canadians. 5 of the 7 I can see are flying a Canadian flag. I don’t know what it is, there are so many Canadians down here, they are all French Canadian, and they are all nuts. Apparently no more nuts than us though I suppose.
I cooked up all the fish I caught on the 18th, I made some kind of butter cilantro garlic potato lime concoction that I used as breading and fried them in. It was quite delicious, and along with some sautéed veggies and fresh guacamole it made for a nice meal. Once again, it really satisfies some innate primordial desire when you sit down to a meal you hunted, killed, and prepared yourself, especially when that meal is particularly delicious.
With Mark gone, things have actually settled down quite a bit here on Sandpiper. Tensions were getting high just before he left, due to... conflicting personalities/intrests? But they really seem to be in a better mood lately, a little less stressed. Me however, I am going just a little bit more crazy, and I am not sure how long I will last, and that is just sitting here at anchor, I am glad we are not going to be underway anytime soon, that wouldn’t be fun. Last night I heard the local hotel going over the VHF radio calling Gottalife, and I responded to see if they needed anything. They said that my Aunt Susan had called and wanted someone to contact her because there was an emergency. I got Brian on the Radio and he called Susan on his cell phone. Now we are all quite worried at this point, for someone to go to such extreme measures as to look up the closest hotel and have them go out on the radio to get someone to call them, well that seems like it is a pretty serious situation. Brain calls to find out it was my mom, and she was worried because Mark’s GPS Spot showed a blip going way further south than we are supposed to be. So, for those of you who watch the Spot, our boat was not stolen, nobody is floating around in the ocean, everything is fine, Mark just decided to jump ship, so that is no longer my spot, it is Mark’s. At this rate you can just assume my spot will only vary 50 feet as we swing around our now 3 anchors we have down in Elizabeth harbor. Oh well, I guess I will have to live with it here in Georgetown, I am going to go play some volleyball on the beach and hit Grandad up for that hamburger and Kalik he owes me. Oh ya, and I named my Dinghy: PITTSBURGH’S GOIN’ TO THE SUPER BOWL. So now when people call me, they have to hail me by that name. Its pretty awesome.
PITTSBURGH’S GOIN’ TO THE SUPERBOWLLLLLL. over.