Falcon's Log 3

Falcon's Log 3

November 1, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

Randy's job is done, and oddly enough, I have pictures. Below is Randy. I ran into him as I was returning from the grocery
store and I said, "Here, hold these and smile." I had my camera and got a shot of him holding my groceries. Lil' Toot would be
the boat with the huge, 'Lil' Toot' painted on it's side. There is also a shot of the cushions I whined about working on forever.

The cushions look
much smaller
because they are
so far away.
Actually, the
material was hell
to work with and
the patterns made
from the old
cushions were
shrunk up. In
ways, it would
have been better
to start from
scratch, but all that
is water under the
bridge.

Below are shots of
Randy's cruising
boat, 'Moondream',
and Joe on his 30
foot Cherubini
Hunter,
'Arabesque'.

Below are a couple of shots of 'Invictus', RJ's 31 foot Mariner, just back from the yard after bottom paint, topsides paint,
rudder repair and a new prop.

November 2, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

Daylight savings time kicked in last night, so I was awakened this morning by a killer headache. A little BC powder and half a
Benadryl has cured it. We'll see how long the medication lasts, or if the headache is gone for good. With all the wind coming
from the inland east of us, I'm thinking there will be more mold and pollen and blah, blah, blah.

One of the guys on the dock, who happens to be one of those rabid neocons convinced of the Godly righteousness of the
republican party, began screaming out his ironclad belief of George Bush's genius last night. It was pretty funny. I told him
that I hadn't intended to vote (not true) but now I had to in order to cancel out his vote, because it needed to be done. He's so
dumb it freaked him out. I know, I know, I shouldn't tease the trolls when they come out of their caves. Actually, I tend more to
the center of the road as far as political affiliation, but this regime in Washington has absolutely raped the treasury and filled
their own pockets at the expense of the lower and middle classes. It is time they are removed entirely.

November 4, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

Yesterday I awoke early and went out for a cup of coffee, more like a barrel of coffee, for the long drive down to the Glades
boatyard with Donny and Barb. The sunrise was a pretty one, so I took a couple of shots. Donny's little Chevy was loaded
down pretty good with more stuffing than a Christmas goose. When we got there, it took a little creative tugging to get all the
stuff out and loaded up onto the cockpit. The boat was still up on the hard, of course, because we still had to install the newly
rebuilt SeaLeg outdrive (that's not it's real name - I don't know it's real name, and since I may never need it again, I'm not apt
to find it out) and prep the bottom of the boat for launch. Everything went smoothly and I was on my way back alone in
Donny's car by 1:30 PM, and got back to Cortez around 3:30.

Below are a sunrise shot as well as a different angle of Randy's Corbin Sloop. An hour or so after I got back, I saw Randy
and Geoff talking with a guy in the parking lot. When the guy pulled out, I noticed he was driving a tanker truck, and oil
delivery type, labeled 'Dockside Fuel'. About a minute later, I was over talking with them and found out the guy would be here
this morning, delivering fuel to whoever wanted it - at the low, low price of $2.80 a gallon. With the street price running
upwards of $3.75 a gallon, and the waterside price hovering closer to $5.00 a gallon, I quickly added my name to the list.

Falcon has a fuel capacity of 100 gallons, though I've never filled the tanks all the way up before. Three days ago I did a
dip-test and calculated that I should have about 29.5 gallons of fuel. 13 inches @ 2.27 gallons per inch. The tanks should
have 21.5 inches of internal height and that would bring 50 gallons each. Since my fuel lines are disconnected and the fuel
tank vent lines are not yet installed, I opted to stay below 50 gallons each to avoid any spillage into the bilge. Imagine my
surprise to discover I'd added another 73 gallons, and was still about two inches shy of 21.5 inches on each tank. I went
below to check for overflow and saw why. The tanks are rectangular, like 22 inches high, by 13 inches wide, by something
like 45 inches long. My mount is a simple 3/4" plywood panel suspended from the main deck beams by four 5/16" threaded
rods. It turns out that the sides bulge out pretty good when the tanks are full. Not a problem, but it adds quite a bit of volume.
At a later date, I'll add a couple of 3/4" plywood plates to the middle of the sides and band them in snuggly to the tanks to
prevent too much expansion stress, but not so tight as to restrict the tanks growth. Plastic tanks 'grow' some once fuel is
installed. It's a character feature of the beast.

Another interesting sidebar to the bottom plate that supports the fuel tanks is that, when full (by the book, 50 gallons @ 7.25
lbs/gal = 362.5 lbs + about 15 or 20 pounds for the tank itself, and the shelf is looking at upwards of 380 pounds, since I now
know you can easily put a lot more than 50 gallons in it. Naturally, there are minute signs of stress on the plywood itself, so I
am going to install some additional support beneath the plywood. It'll be substantial, whatever it is.

Another nice sunset. Sometimes I wonder if it
would be better to have someone to enjoy
them with. Someone sweet and pretty and fun
to share things with. Someone who would
make me dinner and then throw it at me if I
say I'm not hungry. Someone to ask me if
these pants make her butt look big, to which I
can only answer, "No, your butt does that by
itself and the pants can't hide it." Someone to
tell me that if I don't know why she's mad,
she's not going to tell me. Someone to toss
hot water on me while I'm sleeping and empty
my bank account buying shoes on Ebay.

Hmmmm.

No, I think they look just as good without the
company. Maybe, with luck, when I'm old I'll
need a nurse and SHE can do all those things
that I don't miss now. It's ain't no damn
wonder at all why cruising couples don't like
solo sailors. We just see things differently.

It's not that I'm not romantic. It's just that I hate being told when and how to be. Perfect romance is reserved for fiction, for
novels and ballads. Perfect romance lives in fantasies and the day dreams of young teenagers. Leathery old men like me
much more enjoy watching a sunset and remembering when love was perfect and the songs seemed true. But when the sun
goes down and stars come out, we don't miss having someone droning on about things we can't even fake an interest in, or
complaining about an imaginary mis-taste in the evenings fish, soon followed by a lecture on the horrors of mercury poisoning.

November 6, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

The past two days have been cold and blustery, but today looks much warmer and less windy. For the first time since I
installed new batteries in the truck, I couldn't start it. Turned out to be a problem caused by a bad cable lug on the positive
terminal of the large battery, and the small battery just doesn't have the oomph to turn over the big diesel engine as fast as it
needs when staring cold. I'm charging the batteries right now with a borrowed battery charger and will get a new lug today
and correct the issue. Yesterday a guy who works for the 'Waves' company in the marina asked about buying the Saturn,
which I AM interested in getting rid of, and when I do move it, I'll be driving the big hog of a E350 Longbody Diesel Ford Van.
I'm not going to say it's bad on fuel, because it's not for it's size, but a best estimate of between 12 to 14 miles per gallon does
not inspire long sightseeing tours for the fun of it. It's a rolling warehouse I intend to bring to Marathon in the keys when I
leave here, and once I'm done carting around huge or heavy materials like 4 x 8 foot sheets of stock and 8D batteries, I'll sell
it as well. Maybe. We'll see if I need it to pick up pallets of books.

November 8, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

On the 6th, Paul, the marina manager, asked me to do some jobs for the owner on the Seafood Shack. My appreciation for
certain latitudes I'd been afforded in my stay here obliged me to agree to do the work, but a sleepless night coupled with an
increasing sense of despair in ever getting my boat ready to leave, caused me to renege yesterday morning. I did say I'd
probably address the most technically challenging of the tasks, that of raising a huge assembly of large sliding glass panels
that should open a section of the outer wall of the restaurant to the outside. The panels are huge and heavy and the entire
assembly is sinking into the bay. I'm pretty sure I can do that job without causing any damage to the sliders. As far as the
other stuff, Paul handed it off to another guy at the marina.

I took a few pics of the truck yesterday and selected some for here. It is one heavy duty, high capacity work horse, and I like it
a lot. I removed the old camping furniture inside, as well as the third seat - a shame, really, a great seat - and am presently
using it as a mobile storage shed. More than once I have considered selling Falcon and getting an old Airstream Trailer - the
truck has an awesome towing package installed - and just hitting the road instead of the seas. These thoughts are more
persistent during hurricane season than other times of the year.

Espin arrived from Tallahassee area up north in his 31' Southern Cross, 'Ajax', (he was stumped for a name when he spotted
a can of cleanser and got an idea) yesterday at about noon and seems to be scouting the marina for a suitable slip at a
reasonable rate. We had time to chat a little, but will have more time today and later. Just about sunset, Donny and Barb
arrived from down south Glades boatyard on the canal through Lake Okeechobee. He said they'd be here Friday. I was
beginning to wonder as the sun was sinking low, but they just squeaked in under a red sky. Below are a couple of shots of
Espin, who has his own special way of saying 'Good Morning', which is much faster and infinitely quieter than an Ent might
do. I'll probably get pics of Donny and Barb and their boat, 'Dulcinea', which is a Victory Catamaran that Espin describes as
an orthopedic shoe. Espin is a minimalist and scorns excess in a cruising boat. He is highly suspicious of my intention to
include refrigeration, so I don't tell him about my autopilot, water maker, or TV.

November 10, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

I have too many projects lined up and don't know what to do first, so I'm doing a little decompressing while I get all the little
duckies in a row instead of all lined up in a circle around me. Below are a couple of shots of Don and Barb's 'Dulcinea' as she
arrived of Friday. They've got a lot of cleaning up to do and some repairs and modifications to complete prior to heading off
cruising.

Below is a hardshell pram Donny gave me some time ago. He'd taken it apart to recondition and decided to go with a RIB
instead. Right now, the boat is hardly more than a pile of parts, but once completed will be a fairly nice little sailing dingy.

Below are Lauri and Warren, just waiting for Paloma to finish beating on Cuba so they can head off to Marathon. Their little
dog, Toby, eyes Sam suspiciously as Lauri gives Sam some of Toby's pets.

I SO need to get out of here.

November 12, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

Yesterday was long and busy and I got practically nothing done on 'Falcon'. Instead, I climbed Randy's mast and worked with
him on his malfunctioning spreader lights - two bad bulbs, go figure. Next, I helped Espin for most of the rest of the day with
his air-sucking fuel system aboard 'Ajax' - seems fixed now, but we'll see. Ran all over town searching unsuccessfully for
some parts and getting others - nothing for 'Falcon', thank you very much. I have a headache.

Donny brought 'Dulcinea' across the waterway to get her holding tank pumped out and I helped him bring it into the slip
stern-first when he got back.

Now that I've got 100 gallons of diesel fuel aboard, I'm not happy with the way the tanks are mounted and need to change
them some. ALWAYS a happy time to realize I now have to REMOVE the fuel to two 55 gallon drums on the dock and
completely remount the tanks. Believe it or not, it's not as much fun as it sounds like it might be. After a couple of hours
getting ready and borrowing two drums from Paul, I hand-pumped 30 gallons out of one tank. I now have one arm that looks
like Hulk Hogans, and another that looks like Brittney Spears. Okay, not really. Randy came over and took a few strokes on
the manual pump, went back to his boat, and brought me his fuel transfer pump. I hooked it up and got the rest of the fuel out
in about another hour. Now for the fix. Maybe some pics will help. Wait here.

The Tanks are located on either side of the cockpit through these fairly small access hatches, without doors as yet, and there
is only about two inches between the aft outboard corner and the hull, so there is no way to mount them much lower. That
makes for something of a pain in the ass, though it could have been much simpler if I'd been willing to go with smaller tanks
and less fuel capacity. So far, I'm still convinced I made the right decision. It's always better to have enough capacity to pass
overpriced pumps and wait for reasonable prices.

Something impossible to detect in these photos is that the 3/4" plywood base plates are dimpling slightly where the
suspension rods pass through them. That's why I decided to pull the fuel, drop the tanks, and reinforce the plates with angle
steel and flat steel plate. I also want to secure the bottom of the tanks to the cockpit bulkheads in an oversized, massive
manner to prevent the bottom of the tanks from swinging side to side while at sea.

To the left are the drums filled with fuel. In the middle is Espin enjoying the morning commute from the anchorage to the
marina. On the right is 'Tarquin', which is something to do with some kind of teddy bear or 3-legged turtle.

After I've mentioned someone often enough in this Log, I think I'm obliged to insert a picture. The first is of Sandy and Eddie,
owners of 'Tarquin'. They are actually departing for a couple of days of cruising around the area. In the middle are Geoff and
George - not George Pappas, but George Carter. He still refers to himself as 'Major' George - retired military - you know, so
when George Pappas is here, to avoid confusion we refer to them as 'Major George' and 'Minor George', because that's the
way we are. Geoff and George are watching Espin and making believe they care about what he is doing to his outboard. I
took the two pictures about five seconds apart. I say 'making believe' because Espin is making believe he's working on the
outboard so people will think he works. The outboard is fine and needs nothing.

It's apt to be a long day for me, so I should get going and have something to eat before I start.

November 14, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

The tanks are out and the job has grown in leaps and bounds. Once I crawled into the cramped locations and began
removing the tanks, I remembered the haste I had to use during the installation. The only way out of the silted in creek in
Naples was during the semi-annual moon tides that brought about five feet of water into Haldeman's Creek. After two or three
days, those tides would vanish for another six months. I knew I wouldn't fill the tanks on that trip, so I did a light job of
mounting them, intending to correct the situation down the road at some point. Well, 'down the road point' has arrived.

There the tanks are sitting on their plywood plates
as I try to sort out exactly what kind of system of
support I can build into the boat and still get the
tanks mounted. It's an extremely tight fit complicated
by the need to maneuver around the suspension
rods without damaging them, installing the short
hose segment between the tank fill and the deck fill,
and only then, while holding the tank up, can I push
the plywood plate beneath it and, one by one,
finagle the threaded rods through the holes in the
plate, the inner ones being the real treat. No
problem. I've done it at least twice before. It's things
like this that keep me slim and ward off Alzhiemers.
I'm also considering a number of logistic options
that will not only make it easier, but greatly improve
the strength of the finished product. We'll see how
that goes. I'm also considering any number of
wheedling, mealy-mouth excuses if it all goes wrong
and turns into a pathetic cob-fest. But I'm hopeful
and resolved to win . . . . somehow.

Troy, the guy who does the grunt work for the 'Waves' boat club system lodged here at Seafood Shack Marina, wants to buy
the Saturn. I took him for a spin last night and let him drive it as well - you kind'a have to - and he sounds quite serious, so I
need to get more things done fast. That big old diesel truck burns fuel like a retreating Iraqi army and the less I have to use it,
the better.

Espin is scheduled to bring his faltering outboard motor in this morning to have me minister to it. I'm pretty sure it's varnish
flakes in the carburetor and shouldn't take all that long. Then I have to get to home depot and buy a new sheet of 3/4 inch
plywood for the tank mounts and two sheets of 1/2 inch insulation for the cabin roof. I might get one of those thin fiberglass
sheets to use in the head to mitigate damage caused by the shower. We'll see what it costs. I also need to make a small
deposit at the bank, and I'd like to take a trip to the grocery 'scratch and dent' market to stock up on a ton of canned goods.

November 18, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

Four days have passed since I was here and a lot of things have happened. I found my computer was suddenly assaulted by
viruses and other scurrilous vermin. Oh brother. So, I have like, 500 gigabytes of material on 1.1 terabytes of storage. I spent
the better part of three days unraveling the mess (a long overdue procedure) and freeing the computer of problems, but then
found a real big one. I found a huge cache of secret information being hidden on my computer and made available to both
Microsoft and the Federal government. Every instance of every website I've ever visited is stored in these secret files, as well
as every email I've ever sent or received. Fortunately, I've rebuilt my computer often enough to minimize these files, but the
very idea that this behavior by the government and Bill Gates is considered acceptable sort of pisses me off. I googled 'secret
files hidden in windows by Microsoft' and found a cache of articles overseas that identifies the files exactly and reports how to
clear your computer of them. Of course, once you do, you must turn off automatic updates to prevent the Microsoft scumbags
from reloading the 'fast find' government spyware. I am also converting to Linux Ubuntu and running virtual windows inside
Ubuntu so I can still work safely on the Internet. For a short while, I wondered why all the sites with any real information were
in Europe, until I realized that any attempt to publish the facts on US servers would be deleted under the guise of the national
security act, which is what these Washington creeps are using to spy on American citizens.

Early Monday Troy showed up with a big grin and a pocket full of cash and a couple of short hours later, he was driving his
own registered and insured Saturn and I was doing the same with the '92 E350 Diesel Ford Van. I filled the tank today and
got a locking gas cap. Was lucky to find diesel fuel at 2.88/gallon and squished $53 worth into the truck and reset the trip
odometer. Just as I reached Regatta Point Marina to check on George, who is just back out of the hospital again after having
the stint in his pancreas clog up, I lost the brakes in the truck. That is, the pedal was WAAAY to firm and it took all the
pressure I could muster to stop the truck. A check under the hood showed a fragmented alternator belt, which also dropped
out the vacuum pump which energizes the power brakes. I cannot tell you what a pain is the ass it is to work the belts on a
big diesel engine shoe-horned into the front of an Econoline van. I had to buy another set of wrenches to do the job. The
beginning of the trucks own tool set, no doubt.

The pictures above are the Space Shuttle Launch as seen from Cortez - thrilling, huh? - and a mildly distracting sunset to
break up the tedious droning of this log entry. It is becoming unseasonably cold here and once again, one thing after another
conspires to keep me from progress on the boat. The howling wind we are experiencing makes it REALLY hard to move
sheets of plywood around to work on the tank problem. Time marches on and all will eventually get finished. At least it's
easier to see in traffic now, driving a five ton behemoth around a scampering pack of hybrid mini cars - and giant SUV's.

November 19, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

It's about 167 degrees below zero in the boat this morning. Turning on the tiny heater does more to make a cold breeze than
give heat. I have the computer on, both lights, the coffee maker (water only - I make instant coffee) the TV, and the heater. It
doesn't draw much power, all in all, as everything I have is low energy to accommodate life on the hook with only a wind
generator and some solar power, but it does work to take the chill off on a morning like this.

Outside, on the dock, under a sheet of plywood meant for the fuel tanks, are two sheets of insulation intended for the ceiling
over the cabin. So close. I actually intended to have them installed by now, and later on, install 2 1/2 inches of the same kind
of rigid foam board beneath the deck areas before installing the finish inside the boat. Below are a couple of shots of the
recesses that will be filled with the rigid foam insulation. It's becoming more popular on boats because the new stuff is well
made and doesn't absorb moisture or support mold. It also makes it quieter in the boat, and helps keep it warmer in winter
and cooler in summer. And it's dirt cheap.

The one last, tiny little issue to decide on is whether or not to install a few deck prisms up forward for light. You see, way up
forward before the head and galley, there is a healthy sized storage area that will soon be filled with annoying crap that I
have to dig through any time I want something. (Might as well call it as it will someday be known.) Deck prisms, always used
on the wooden tall ships of old, solved that problem. They come in a variety of colors and the big blocker here (other than the
obvious work to install and the potential to leak), is what color to choose?

The larger ones are about 4 1/2" wide and high (they are all shown upside
down from how they would be installed in the deck) and the smaller ones
are about 3" wide and high. Deck prisms bought through a Yacht Supply
company run nearly $200 each, if not more. These can be had for $15 for
the large and $11 for the small - all glass.

The insulation for the cabin roof is peeking out from under the 3/4 "
plywood to the left. Also in that short stack is a thin panel of white pebble

finish fiberglass sheeting intended to line most of the head to protect the structure from shower water'. It could work well.

November 21, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

Okay. Here's the thing -----> in the beginning, there was no light, when I first put the deck on Falcon, and so I said, "I'm gonna
hafta let there be some light up forward there, or I'll burn everything I try to cook." So there you have it. I decided on Deck
Prisms and left that notion on a shelf now all these years. However, the time to finish the interior is here, and all factors must
be taken down from the shelves and re-evaluated, stirring in all old ideas with accumulated experience and recent
developments.

It is my considered opinion that, most often, ideas that wander through the silence of ones mind suffer from a lack of exposure
and may appear differently if they are spoken out loud among peers. I went outside and happened to be in a circle of Warren,
Espin, Eddie, and me, and I opened the subject of Deck Prisms and what I was thinking, as well as what I'd found available
and the low prices, so cost was not considered a factor. In about five minutes, virtually every good and bad point was brought
up and the last concrete statements were, "You can put LED lights in now wherever you want. They don't cost nothing. They
don't draw nothing for power, and they'll never leak. (Warren) "What are you looking at me for? I would NEVER cut a hole in a
deck that didn't absolutely have to be there." (Eddie) "You asked three people and you got three 'no's on Deck prisms."
(Espin) So, no deck prisms. I'm convinced. There are too many better options.

Warren and Lauri left yesterday and made it a quarter mile from the dock before their engine overheated and they had to get
towed back to the dock. They have Boat US unlimited towing coverage, so it doesn't cost money, just the public humiliation
and lifelong stigma of having been dragged behind a powerboat like a dead whale. Anyway, the problem turned out to be a
replacement impeller that Warren installed a day or two before that the Honorable George Washington, first president of
these United States, had bought and put in the ships stores of spare parts. The rubber piece had petrified, and crumbled like
a dry cracker as soon as it could. It took he and Eddie a little time to get a new impeller and set things to right. They are tied
up at my dock right now and should be leaving again this morning sometime. I should get a couple of pictures.

At first, I'd thought they'd left, then I noticed their boat peeking out at me from behind Kim and Marks boat. A closer look
revealed the truth - they were still here - another look at the shot from the previous page reminds you who they are, and a
conversation a few minutes ago revealed that they are not going yet - not until winter stops being cold and they can anchor
out without dock electricity and electric heat. Hmmm. I would be so out'a here. I would get an Arctic Cat Snowmobile suit and
live in it if I had to, but I would be gone. Different strokes.

Yesterday I did a couple of road trips. One with Espin to Walmart, where I picked up a set of those vacuum shrunk
clothing/bedding storage bags, and the second with Donny to a sail maker in St. Petersburg where he picked up a couple of
Strong (manufacturers name) sail track slides, and I got a wild idea about ordering a set of lightweight, high-tech sails for
Falcon, later on down the road. The guy is supposed to email me his business card and contact information. If the price isn't
to prohibitive, it would be the best way to get as much performance out of this old heavyweight design as she could muster,
and the lighter sails would be MUCH easier for me to handle alone on deck.

November 22, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

I finally came to a set system of fixing the sliding glass doors in the south wall of the Seafood Shack, in agreement with Paul
so there wouldn't be any awkward surprises that none of us need, and went to get most of the materials. There was a bit of
sticker shock at the register, but not much and since this cost is being absorbed by Ham, who owns the building, it was not a
big concern to me. As it turns out, they expected it to be much more and were pleasantly surprised at it being so low.

On the way back from Lowes, I stopped at a gas station to pump up the tires on the truck, thinking they seemed to roll hard
and might be soft. They should be at least 60 pounds of pressure, and could be up to 80, but I decided to set them at 65 and
see how they felt. More sticker shock - the 25 cent air pump is now 75 cents per use, and it took three full uses to pump the
25 pound fronts and 40 pound rears all up to 65 PSI. Huh. Truck rolls MUCH better and the fuel mileage is soaring up to 12
or 14 or so, as we speak. But at least the truck is getting much better.

Now, I have to go back to Lowes or Home Depot and get some cheap baseboard - the foam stuff with a stained wood finish -
to make the inside of the glass doors look finished and keep the really big rats out of the building.

Warren is leaving tomorrow as well as Espin, and Geoff just got back after a week-long cruise south. I SO need to get out of
here.

I have now discovered how to make several different and distinctive versions of gruel, some of which I genuinely like and all
of which seem to keep me alive and well and require little effort. Cooking rice is the hardest part, and I'm sure I can ratchet
that difficulty down a few clicks once I get underway. I'm visualizing a double walled glass container where I can put the
water, olive oil and rice in the center vessel, with a loose fitting cover, and place that inside a larger inverted bowl on a shiny
aluminum cookie tray so the suns rays not only cook the rice on the way down, but reflect back up at it. Yeeaahhhhh, that's
the ticket. Set it in the sun on deck and keep my eye on it. Soon enough, time to add tomato paste and fish and garlic.
Yummy. Fresh gruel. And quick and easy cleanup.

November 23, 2008 - Seafood Shack Marina - Cortez, Florida

I started off today with another run to Home Depot for the molding and adhesives to finish up the details inside the glass
sliders on the side of the Seafood Shack. I took a couple of pictures of the outside to better illustrate whatever the hell it is
I've been talking about. It looks a little experimental, but it's strong and clean.

It's hard to get a real picture of what was going on here without a lot of before and after photos with circles and arrows and
long clinical explanations of the whole thing, but here's the Readers Digest version: The sidewalk beneath the doors sank
over the past 30 years and the track supporting the doors sank with it. Originally, the four huge sets of doors surrounding the
first floor of the building rolled completely out of the way, bringing an awesome tropical outdoor atmosphere to the dining
room. They just don't do it any more. Anyway, the lower track sank a full two inches and the doors fell out of their top tracks
and tried to throw themselves on the ground and commit sliding door suicide by disintegration, which is what glass does. Lets
skip past the cobby (I mean, really, really cobby) temporary measures employed to prevent the aforementioned tragedy and
go right to the sawtooth crevasse of sunlight shooting through the gaps at the top of the sliders. It just looked awful and Ham
had finally had enough and told Paul to get it fixed.

I have to admit that I was nervous about removing the patchwork of little braces at the top as I slowly, carefully levered the
heavy glass doors onto gradually growing stacks of little blocks until they were all up, plumb, and secure. I measured the
gaps, secured the panels for the night, and prayed there would be no significant wind. Next morning I went to Lowes and got
the aluminum and screws and spent a few hours carefully cutting and installing the stuff. Two doors have angle that is also
attached to the aluminum bottom track, and the other two doors only have aluminum plate. All the blocks were removed and
the doors are solid and strong. Badda bing, badda boom. New York style done to a "T". Now I'll follow up with a good trim
package inside to hide the huge gap at the bottom of the doors.

After that, Falcon work and no more bull. I stood sadly on the dock and watched Espin and Warren race off southward this
morning at 9 AM. They must have been going almost five miles per hour. It's like watching your dog run away in Texas - you
can still see him heading for the horizon for a week, and it ain't cause he hates to go.

Oh, yeah. As I was going to get a couple of shots of the sliders, I came upon George Carter who is Cortez Yacht Sales, and
Donny Capron having a gam at one of the unused Seafood Shack outdoor dining booths - soon to be back in action as of
December 15th - and once they turn and smile, well, it would be rude not to take a picture, or to say, "Oh, stop preening, for
crying out loud." So I just take the shot and put it in here.

And another thing, as odd as it may sound, ugly as I am, no fewer than two people (Barb on Dulcinea and Jammer, once on
Blue Moon and before that on BeBop, but now temporarily on land as he cares for his ailing Mom), have asked that I include
more pictures of myself, and/or myself on Falcon, in the log, as proof that I am actually a real person and not a disembodied
floating head like so many other cruisers. So, okay then, I'll find a way to do it. Don't blame me. Jammer also thinks I should
include a photo viewer that pulls up full size high resolution copies of the shots on the sight. Now I have to start searching for
an album function for the site and learn new tricks. It's probably possible.

So, you'll never guess what happened. Really. Try to guess.
..........................................................................................................................................................

Okay, that's long enough, and as I said, you didn't guess. Here it is. This morning Espin and Warren/Lauri streak off over the
horizon on the only race slower than OJ's getaway sprint in the white Bronco, which has, by the way, destroyed forever any
hope of Bronco attracting the performance crowd. Espin took a commanding lead with speeds too low to speak about and
arrived at the Venice Free Dock first, taking the last spot. You can tie up for free at the Venice Public dock for about a day. As
Warren and Lauri burst on the scene at a screaming four miles per hour, they asked if they might raft up against Espin.

<-----Dramatic Pause ----->

Espin said "Okay," and they CRASHED INTO HIM AT FULL SPEED!!!!!!!

<-----Second Dramatic Pause For Somber Contemplation And To Stifle Need To Laugh Out Loud----->

Apparently, there may well be damage to Ajax, but Espin is too distraught (a perfectly rational response when the only thing
you own in the world - your home and boat - is crashed into stupidly) to know for sure. He will get drunk tonight and scream
at Warren, then check for damage tomorrow with a hangover. The cruising lifestyle is very complex and ripe with rituals that
must be observed.

So there you have it. I slipped in a couple of shots of Philippine settings to ease you up and help display that all is not joyful
in Paradise, but some things are just plain funny. Well, given a little time and distance they become funnier than the sincere
tragedy they first appear to be, and it has been three hours and they are 30 miles south of here, so that's time and distance
for me.