Cabin fever begins in August in these parts. It is the season that belies sound reasoning and encourages foolish actions. Naturally a summer’s sailing excursion is in order.
An ideal cruise quickly planned from Gulfport Fl to the tropical paradise known to old time locals as Picnic Island or by its more modern name, Caladesi Island State Park, just across from St Joseph’s sound from Dunedin some dozen or so miles north of Gulfport as the pelican flies. The award winning park boasts a well run marina nestled back in the mangroves hosted this time of year by No See-ums the size of hungry bats.
Our solo sailor set sail later than prudent on a hot sultry sunny morn crossing Boca Ciega Bay then following the ICW north. Later that afternoon a secluded anchorage behind a spoil island as far from the urban shore as possible was secured. Moments later our explorer extraordinaire found his ship besieged by mosquitoes of such size and number an immediate retreat was necessary.
Sailing out of John’s Pass into the Gulf of Mexico he found the peace and serenity he was looking for. He was so taken by the warm tropical wind pushing him effortlessly at 5 knots that he phoned northern friends, family and ex lovers to drop everything and come to Florida where they would sail together in pure harmony and bliss all the way to Key West. It was the best sailing experience of his life he explained. Then the sun went down.
“Why not anchor in the Gulf for the night?” The thoughtful explorer reasoned.
It should be explained here that the Gulf of Mexico is only about 20 feet deep for tens of miles off shore as well as pointing out the next landfall is Mexico, over a thousand miles across the uninterrupted ocean.
“Are you out of your mind?” demanded the HideAway Capt “do you know what happens in the Gulf at night?”
“Well I do NOW!”
“How big were they?”
“ ‘Bout five feet”
“AND everything in the boat was banging around ALL night long AND I was sick from the heat AND my stomach decided to take up acrobatics.”
“Did you sleep much?”
“Who could sleep at all with stuff falling off of places I didn’t know were occupied? Queried the queasy sailor. “I finally did gain unconscious bliss until something hit my face.
“Were you sleeping on the settee by the companionway?”
“Do you know what pelicans DO?"
“Well, you know, if you believe in reincarnation coming back as a pelican would be fun. They get to fly around all day, dive, fish and swim… Not a bad life.” Suggested the Capt.
“No, you idiot!” Snarled the solo seasick sailor, “They poop prodigiously.”
Do you mean you had prodigious, pelican poop all over your cockpit?”
“No, I had PUTRID, prodigious, pelican poop all over ME as I crawled up those steps!” Groaned the explorer
“Now I know what “Heave to” really means”
“Just out of curiosity,” the Capt winced “did you call your friends back yet?”
“Yeah, after the very best sailing sojourn I’d ever had turned into the worst in just a few hours I told them not to come – I’m selling the boat”
“Oh come on now” started the Capt. “that’s a bit over the top don’t you think?”
“Have you ever tried cleaning off petrified, putrid, prodigious, pelican poop on a sultry, stifling summer day???
|Humans, Ya gotta Luv 'em|
SMALL BOATS ROCK!!