I recently upgraded my iPad to a newer OS, 9 or 10.something. There have been so many lately that I’m beginning to feel like I have some microsoft OS on my iDevice. Anyway, it wasn’t working well and I quit trying to write. I’ll resume here where so far, all is working as it should–except I cant find what I wrote last night. Apparently WordPress on an iPad doesn’t move to WordPress on an iMac, or at least mine didn’t.

Well, I just hooked my iPad into this computer and the thing I wrote last night is gone. So much for all those saves that were happening every other word.

I can’t reconstruct because I can’t remember the title or what I wrote, so we start with a fresh slate. Sorry for the pre-ramble…

oops, found it. Here goes!

A friend said I’m being overly morbid saying that I’m sitting around waiting to die, but then another friend said what is important is what you are doing while waiting. Both are highly active and great achievers–unlike me who did a lot but now has a goal of being a major couch potato.

I’m told by the crazy lady I live with that I am the King, and far be it for me to disagree–but it is her fault. But that’s for another posting. I want to defend my captaincy and time spent sailing my Pearson 424 sailboat.

I was watching some silly program about commercial fishing and they were describing a fisherman who got a brand new (to him) boat. The first thing he did was run aground at the dock. Yep, the tide went out and he was high and dryand had had to wait six hours until the tide came in and he could refloat and get under way. I did that in Georgia, altho in my defense there was a 20 foot variation between high and low tides. This professional captain had only a six foot variation. Then the fool tried to pull his boat away from the dock, through the muddy bottom, to deeper water. Pretty stupid because he would be dragging his rudder and prop thru the mud and could have caused thousands of dollars damage to those parts AND possibly holed the boat.

Next,a faulty wire shorted out his bilge pump and his boat started filling with water when he was offshore. This happened to me at the dock, but I had an alarm which went off if the water in the bilge got to a certain level. This skipper had no such alarm.

My point is that when I was Captain Bill of the sailing vessel R & R, we had some adventures due to my lack of knowledge. My girlfriend at the time laughed at me and my errors, despite the fact that she could not swim. Bad etiquette to laugh at the skipper when you cannot swim and are afraid of fish swimming nearby. They were dolphins, but out of cruelty I told her that they were sharks and she should beware if the dorsal fins came nearer. I like being corrected, I hate being laughed at. We ran aground in Pelican Harbor, near the Boca Chica inlet on the Gulf side of Florida. She was embarrassed about that until a commercial water taxi captain who goes into Pelican Harbor 3 times a day told us that he runs aground there all the time. I just figure that if you haven’t run aground you haven’t sailed much. The secret is to get off and underway without damaging your boat. I always managed to do that.

So, to M.R., my earstwhile sailing companion (every sailboat needs a sexy, beautiful, blonde first mate), I forgive you your ridicule, the pain of your jibes has all but gone away, and the fact that you broke the companionway steps on the Caliber 32 we chartered is forgiven but not forgotten. How you managed to flip the engine cover and land inside without destroying it or hurting yourself still amazes me when I remember your scream and subsequent curses. You redeemed yourself when the thermostat failed as we crossed the gulf stream and you said we should continue without it. Even though a good diesel mechanic told me later that it was dangerous to run that engine without a Thermostat.

We managed to survive with lots of fun adventures and no major injuries. I’m sorry for that rogue wave that flipped you and our mattress across the cabin, but fortunately the mattress went first and cushioned you as you crashed into the bulkhead. I’m also sorry for the fact that Judy left the porthole in the forward cabin unsecured and caused all your clothes to get wet. These are all part of the adventure of living aboard a sailboat, and I must say that you accepted them in good spirits with reasonable controlled anger, and I forgive you for chasing me around the boat with the shotgun (it was loaded, by the way) and appreciate that I never told you how to reelease the safety.

Life has, and continues to be, been very good. If indeed I am waiting around to die, I certainly lived enough to warrant some couch potato time.


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