Trouble and strife.
While waiting for the wind to moderate and swing into the southern quadrant for the big crossing back to Florida we visit the exclusive wealthy enclave of Cat Island to the south of us. We try to find the dockmaster to buy gasoline and finally give up and decide to anchor for the night behind the sand spit in the shelter of the bay. Heather is just baking some muffins when the dockmaster arrives on the spit and starts yelling and swearing at us to leave right away!. “Private!” I ask for time to finish the baking but things get ugly so we leave and head back to Honeymoon Bay at the north end of Gun Cay to spend the night.
Gun Cay. Honeymoon Bay at north end.The journal:
Jan20th.
Today we woke up beside Cat Cay and decided to find a sheltered beach so we made our way to Honeymoon Bay. We checked out a wreck on the beach called ‘Sandy Lane’ ( Be careful what you call a boat) and met a family from Maine. Anne came to get us as Amazon needed to be pushed out some more off the beach and we woke up mom. We talked to people, went snorkeling and sunbathing and then decided to get water, food and gas so we went back through the cut to the Cat Cay Club.
We found that the dockmaster had gone off island so we couldn`t get water and gas so we bought groceries. We visited a boutique and talked to a man who had just come across the Gulf Stream. Rough, he said. Then having given up waiting for the dockmaster we started back to Gun Cay but decided to go into a cove near the Cat Cay Club for overnight shelter. We got the tent up and mom started cooking when the dockmaster came and told us to “Get out of here!” So he and dad got into a fight and the dockmaster sweared. Dad told him not to swear in front of his family. So while he was going to tell his boss we left for Gun Cay and Honeymoon Bay again. Now we are settled and dad is reading to us. Gwynnie.
2 comments:
Dear Bill,
It is 10:35 p.m. and somehow a link to your blog popped up out of the blue . . . and there you were, looked benign, somewhat grisled and gnarly, like a sturdy oak that has stood the test of time, or the sun-weathered sea captain that you are. And here I am, a voice from your past reaching out across the miles to say hello. From the writing, the artwork and the heartstopping photography, I see that the park ranger I once knew has grown into a renaissance man with all that that implies.
I smile across the miles.
Lindsay
Gnarly,grizzled eh? I will have to change my profile photo to a more up to date version. Like Merlin, I`m living my life backwards!( Smile) Bill.
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