It was never like that for me

Frank just called from the cockpit of Laureen's 47-foot catamaran. He reports that although they are between Alcatraz and the city, they are warm, dry, and steady enough to be drinking champagne while Laureen nurses Aurora.

San Francisco Bay seemed rather different from the cockpit of the Enjoué, my dad's 26-foot Columbia. If we had sails where I wasn't cold and green, I don't remember them. :-)

Arrival

Frank is at Judy's. Bob and Gort are at a municipal pier because there isn't as much depth as advertised for getting into the marina where Bob had made arrangements for a slip. They'll move the boat tomorrow.

All is well.

The Rigolets!

Gort has reached the Rigolets (the not-straight straight into the lake, pronounced rig-uh-lees by the locals). They have huge wind from exactly the wrong direction today, so they're still motoring. Kind of disappointing for a couple of sailors.

They decided not to stop for fuel in Gulfport. Their supply seems good, and if they've miscalculated, well, Bob has tow insurance.

They are going to keep motoring through the thunderstorms and cross Lake Pontchartrain to Bob's slip. Frank will be at Judy's tonight!

I assume Judy knows this. Hmm. Maybe I should call her. :-)

Mississippi

All is well. I'm having trouble finding them a working gas dock in Gulfport (continuing Katrina woes, three years later—so much for the land of opportunity), so they might end up taking a taxi to get some gas cans filled. But Gulfport is where they're headed. They'll anchor off Ship Island tonight, then head into port in the daylight tomorrow. I'm hoping they'll have cell service tonight so I'll get to talk to Frank again.

Update about 7:00 p.m. -- Frank just called via cell phone (they're near towers again!). They are anchored off of Ship Island and doing well. They are very much looking forward to being able to sleep all night tonight. They're going to check their fuel supply in the morning and then decide whether to go into Gulfport or just head for New Orleans.

A much calmer day

Frank and Bob had a much better day today, calm and uneventful. But it doesn't look like they made much headway (or maybe I had their position wrong yesterday). Frank says the wind is coming over their nose, so they're motoring. They plan to pull into Gulfport or Pass Christian sometime Monday for some diesel, and then continue on into New Orleans. After yesterday's progress, I thought they'd arrive a day earlier than that, so I'm feeling discouraged on their behalf. They seem upbeat, though, and mostly just relieved to be having an easy time of it again.

Not a good day

Here is where they are now.

Unfortunately, they had a lousy time getting there. A big squall rolled right over the top of them and kept them "busy" all day. It sounds like it slammed them. The mainsail tore, but Frank says the rip is below the first reef, so they reefed it in and it's still usable. Also, the compressor on the refrigerator went out (probably unrelated to the weather). I assume they'll still be able to use the engine to cool their food. If not, they might have a pretty boring diet for a couple of days.

Things have calmed down now (they're back on the engine and only doing 4 knots), so they're going to take turns getting some much needed rest.

Becalmed and bumped

Here is where they are right now:

They don't have much wind and have been motoring more than they like. They're about to cut back on that, so they'll slow down a bunch. Up til now, though, they've been making excellent time, as you can see. Here's hoping the wind picks up (but not too much!) soon. Frank says the Gulf is like a lake, and it's really hot out there.

Their only bit of excitement was a sudden bump in the night. They ran around in a panic for a while, looking for the hole in the hull, before they figured out that a clumsy dolphin (part of a visiting pod) had run right into them.

Ready, set, JUMP!

Frank and Bob have left Key West and are headed out into the Gulf! Winds are light and it's really hot, but they're on their way. They figure 5 days to reach the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway, and then another day plus to reach New Orleans and, more specifically, Bob's slip across Lake Pontchartrain.

They'll be calling in every day via satellite phone with their position and to hear the latest weather report, so I'll keep you all apprised of their progress.

Safe harbor

Frank and Bob are safe in Key West. They are drinking wine coolers and making plans for a day of chores and shopping tomorrow.

Tales from the Keys (2008 edition)

Other than Tropical Storm Edouard (currently hovering off Louisiana and headed for Texas), the Gulf has gone quiet (too quiet?), so Frank and Bob have reverted to their original plan. They will pull into Key West tonight, spend tomorrow resting and prepping for the Gulf.

They had a little help making this decision: a lobster pot fouled the prop last night and prompted them to anchor off Long Key with plans to dive down this morning and defoul it. In the meantime, a rainless squall blew over them, rocking and rolling the boat and putting on a lightshow. This morning, when Frank went down to see to the entanglement, it was gone, and the prop was undamaged, and the shark wasn't terribly interested in German-Irish breakfast. Hurray!

So, they are in better spirits this morning than last night, especially knowing that they don't have to rush through their preparations.

Rounding the cape

The "Cape of Florida" that is.

After a restful night in the last available guest slip in Fort Pierce, Frank and Bob are back on the water today. They're doing another overnight passage and might pull into one of the Keys tomorrow.

The original plan was for them to head to Key West on Monday, to sleep and reprovision before they jump off into the Gulf. Unfortunately, I had to inform them this morning that a new invest (area of disturbed weather) has appeared on the tropical weather map. Invest 90L is not terribly impressive at the moment, with winds at only about 30 mph, but the computer models show it heading over Cuba and, presumably, right on into the Gulf. It has measurable potential for reaching hurricane status.

If Frank and Bob are efficient (and efficiency is fairly easy to achieve with a system pushing winds your way), they are a solid two days ahead of the storm. I couldn't say at this point whether they'll think that is enough advantage or not.

Wahoo!

Frank called via satellite phone as I was driving home. (But I was only on the phone for a minute, Officer, I swear!) After spending the day motoring as expected, he and Bob were thrilled by a wind shift with accompanying increase in wind speeds. They cut the motor and were still doing 9 knots. And judging from Frank's tone of voice, they were loving every minute of it.

Departure

Frank and Bob expect to head out into the Atlantic tomorrow morning. What winds there are, are out of the south, so they also expect to be doing a fair amount of motoring. They hope to reach Fort Pierce sometime Friday afternoon/evening, where they'll put in for more fuel and some uninterrupted sleep.

Cap'n Blacktoes sails again

Frank just called. Bob is officially a boat owner! He is very excited, especially after their first little test sail.

Tonight, they have dinner with Gail and Broc (he of the long armspan for raffle tickets). Tomorrow, they stock and equip. Thursday, they sail. I'm their designated weather girl, so I'll be hearing from them and will post updates regularly.

Thursday 13

Thirteen Things I'm Glad I Own (or share ownership in) We have some friends who are gearing up to set sail on their catamaran, the s/v Don Quixote. They've been purging belongings, in stages, for several months, realizing with each purge that the things they found essential last time are just not. I lack their perspective. I have many, many essential belongings. Here are 13 of the most essential. My MEBs. 1. My books. I am not one of those people who can read a book and call it done. No sirree, Bob. I read decent books at least twice, and I read good books... well, I haven't found a limit yet. 2. Ten thousand photos. They're jumbled, stacked, piled, stuffed, tucked away, saved to disc, boxed up, packed up, scattered about, and even occasionally framed or put into albums, and every one of them is precious. Especially photos of my babies! (at any age) 3. My bed. Our bed. The marriage bed. Haven, heaven, honeymoon, home. This is where I sleep, enjoy my books, read with my kids, talk with my kids, snuggle with my kids, sleep with my kids (rarely these days), contemplate the universe, and, above all, revel in and renew the force and solace and source that is my precious marriage to Frank. Plus our new bed is damned pretty. 4. The Super Toilet. Yes, it's sheer indulgence. Yes, it was too expensive. But oh how I love our Toto Washlet! Try sitting down on a heated toilet seat in the middle of a cold January night, just once, and then tell me it isn't an essential item! (And our friends like it, too!) 5. The computer. As a kid, with a dad in the industry, I had the privilege of playing with one of the first personal computers ever. I've been hooked ever since and now can't imagine life without one. This is where I WRITE, people! 5b. The wrist brace that lets me use the computer without agony. 6. Our video entertainment paraphernalia. Compared to the more video-oriented members of my family, I barely watch any TV at all, but our TVs and players and library of movies are cherished possessions nonetheless. We have movies to suit any mood, and having them *right there* when I need them is a pleasure. 7. My eyeglasses. The trees have leaves. My daughters have eyelashes. I can proofread billboards. I can see the computer screen without squinting or leaning waaaay forward. My eyeglasses are a wondrous thing. 8. My Crocs. Actually, all my shoes. But especially my Crocs. Hmm, it's about time for a new pair... 9. Certain treasured items of clothing. My Seahawks jersey, my Firefly t-shirt, my LIFE is Good t-shirt, my ancient but comfortably oversized "Windows 2000 Resource Kit" button-down shirt, my plush and racy-red bathrobe that Frank bought for me. Wearing these items never fails to make me feel good. Comfort clothes. 10. Our Sonicare toothbrush. I haven't had a cavity since we went sonic years and years ago. (knock wood) (yes, I know an atheist shouldn't be so superstitious, but I am ever All About the Contradictions) 11. The washer, dryer, dishwasher, microwave, and refrigerator. I lived on a boat without these for a while. (No, the boat refer does not count.) I appreciate them very much now. Very much. 12. The stuff in my hopechest. Mementos, letters, dried wedding flowers, newspaper clippings, baby clothes. It's our accumulative time capsule. 13. The jewelry Frank has given me over the years. Especially my wedding ring. This was one of the easiest TTs I've done. :-) Get the Thursday Thirteen code here! View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Sailing the Seattle seas

Frank and MJ crewed aboard the s/v Don Quixote last night in Elliot Bay Marina's Thursday night series race. Don Quixote is the catamaran that belongs to our pals Toast and Dean and their wonderful daughters, Jaime, Mera, and Aeron (my boon companions at the unschooling conference). It sounds like it was a wonderful evening. They raced in the cruising class, which pretty much translates to "noncompetitive." Frank said they even gave way so some guy could get past them at the breakwater. This is not the sort of attitude you would find among the more hardcore racers! I could tell he really enjoyed the laid-back approach.

He was also pretty taken with catamaran sailing. He and MJ each got a turn at the helm, and he said it's a very stable ride—enough so that the kids were running all around the boat. Nice breezes let them clip along doing about 8 knots. Speedy!

I had to work a little late to make up for my less dedicated days earlier in the week, but I got home enough before the sailors that Chloe and I had a little date. We tried out our new On Demand cable and discovered an incomparable 80's treat on the Free Movies list: Xanadu! Does anybody remember this incredible, forgettable movie? Olivia Newton-John, Gene Kelly, and the Electric Light Orchestra, plus a bunch of roller skates. Trippy.

Percolations 2

Here are some more previously unreported (I think) moments from our almost-cruise, in rough chronological order:

** Girls swimming alongside the dinghy at Cat Island. On one of our trips to shore, Marjie and Chloe decided to swim back to the boat ('though Chloe felt a bit nervous about being in the water with all the dolphins that had been around that day). It was a pretty long way, so Frank and I put-putted alongside them in the dinghy. When they got tired or we got bored (which came first, I can't remember), the girls grabbed on to the sides of the Tender, and we towed them. It was thrilling for all -- for them because they liked the speed and face-splashing, and for us because we felt like we were trolling for sharks with our daughters as bait. ;-)

** Getting turned away from Gulfport by the police boat. We stopped in there hoping to top off the diesel before the passage, but they met us at the harbor entrance and told us to go away. The harbor was completely closed due to Katrina damage.

** How good food tasted during the passage (once we quit barfing). For instance, we had one fabulous lunch – truly, one of the most delicious meals of our lives – consisting of crushed tortilla chips, Ritz crackers, salsa, and refried beans directly from the can. YUM!!

** Naples is a really pretty city. At the time, coming as we were from hurricane-ravaged Slidell, we were mostly aware of it being whole and undamaged. But now that we look back on it, having seen quite a bit more of Florida than we ever expected, we can “see” better how nice it was. It’s what people think of when they fantasize about winters in Florida, with pretty homes and quaint businesses; clean, palm-lined streets; a feeling that the whole world is on vacation; and an unmatched level of civic pride. I assume all that will soon be true again as they recover from Wilma.

** Walking to the Naples West Marine. When we pulled into the guest dock in Naples, they gave us a little city map. It says right on it, "Map is not to scale," but we figured it couldn't be *that* much off. It was. We set out one day to walk to West Marine, a distance of maybe 10 city blocks by the map and about 100 miles in reality. Okay, not 100, but it was a LONG way, and it was REALLY HOT. When we hit our moment of worst discouragement, lo and behold, there was a Joe's Crab Shack. We went in and had gigantic lemonades and a shrimp platter. You should have seen the waiter's eyes pop when he came back three minutes after serving our drinks to find that Chloe had emptied her lemonade glass already. Much refreshed and armed with the knowledge that we were actually close to West Marine now, we made the rest of the walk in good time and good spirits. A taxicab later returned us to the marina.

** Talking to Chiara. We miss our Italian daughter tremendously, every minute of the day!! But our phone conversations with her made for some of our best moments of the trip. The most memorable was that one lovely day at the Dry Tortugas. Totally fed up with being out of contact with her, I said, "I don't care what it costs!" and fired up the satellite phone one morning. We all took turns talking to her, and it was a happy, festive time. Afterwards, I was a little weepy but felt actual physical relief for having spoken to her. Then Frank and I got in the dinghy to go ashore and check the Wilma predictions. The forecast that morning said that the storm wasn’t coming to the Keys. It was erroneous but nicely timed to give us one lovely, relaxed day at Fort Jefferson.

** We aren’t the only clumsy sailors around. I had some moments on the passage of feeling like a pretty inept sailor, so it was kind of nice to sail to Key West with Delfina and see somebody else make some sailing errors. It was nothing major -- they made a couple of inadvertent tacks -- but it was reassuring.

** Visiting the Key West Municipal Library. My best friend, Stephanie -- who used to live in KW -- had a dream that we went to the Key West library. Not ones to ignore psychic vibrations, and since we had plans to go there anyway :-), we soon became regular patrons. They gave us a library card in exchange for $15, which seems pretty cheap now considering all the books, movies, and Internet time we got for it.

** Rain drills. Rain is always a major event on a sailboat in the tropics, because you typically have every port and hatch open in order to get some much needed ventilation. On the Zombie Princess (and a good percentage of the rest of the sailboats down there), this is compounded by a few leaky ports. So, every time it started to rain (once a day, on average), we had a mad scramble, "all hands" effort to close everything up and set out absorbent materials (diapers) under the leaky spots. We've been home for a month, in our nice waterproof house, and I still tense up and get ready for action when I hear it start to rain (17 times a day, on average). (Did I mention that we are currently enjoying a rain streak in Western Washington? It's rained at least once every day for something like 30 consecutive days, and rain is predicted for every day this week.)

** The Zombie Princess is one tough little boat. But I suppose you had all managed to figure that out, reading between the lines of this blog.

KQR

P.S. This may be the first time in my life I actually managed to follow through on a New Year's resolution!

Road notes and some belated photos

Florida
We chose the Lake Okeechobee route from Miami to Orlando. A lot of it was scenic/interesting, with the occasional gator and wings-hung-out-to-dry cormorant sighting, but our view of the lake itself was obscured by a levee. And then traffic through the greater Orlando metropolitan area was awful. All in all, we might have preferred the turnpike. ;-)

We spent Night 2 in Gainesville, where the temperatures dropped down into the @*#(! range. We actually had to run the heater and put on coats!

About the time we hit I-10, the van's engine malfunction light came on. The ol' tighten-the-gas-cap trick didn't help, so we drove into the Honda dealership in Ft. Walton Beach. They diagnosed some clogging in the emissions system, strangely reminiscent of our exhaust-elbow problem on the boat back in September. $200 and a few hours later, we were able to backtrack to Destin.

Many of you will recall that the four of us lived in Destin the winter of '96/'97 and have been back there for a couple of vacations since. The Florida panhandle has the best beaches Frank and I have ever visited, and that includes the Caribbean and Hawaii. I called the sand there sugar sand, as people are wont to do, but the texture is really closer to flour. It is very soft, very fine, and very white. Gorgeous. The girls and I spent a lovely couple of hours beachcombing (yes, some hurricane debris and damage here), digging, and scribbling movie quotes in the sand. The temperatures in Destin were a bit milder, too, although we did have the mother of all rainstorms our second morning there. (Seduced by the microwave and refrigerator in our hotel room, we just had to stay two nights!)

Alabama and Mississippi
Zoom zoom zoom.

Louisiana
Louisiana is still a very sad place. The scene in Florida is one of recovery; in Louisiana, destruction. East New Orleans made me cry, because it's a very battered ghost town still, more than three months after Katrina. Despite the claims of certain radio 'personalities' I could mention, things in Louisiana are NOT getting back to normal. Well, they are, but the pace of the return is beyond slow, and there are whole cities there that may never recover.

We drove over the Twin Spans. They have all traffic moved onto one side of the freeway there, to get past the section of I-10 that fell into Lake Pontchartrain. We were impressed at the amount of repair. Interstate commerce is a powerful motivator.

Farther west, where Chris and Marty live, the situation is somewhat better. Not normal, but livable. About a third of businesses are open, with limited, variable hours. Most houses still have heaps of debris in their front yards; Frank has taken to calling it "house puke." Make no mistake, residents here are aware every minute of every day that they are in a disaster area. Nevertheless, Christmas decorations are up, and life goes on.

We had a nice visit with Marty at his retirement villa. The staff there is working hard to reestablish their pre-Katrina routines, and Marty was looking forward to watching the Seahawks during that night's Monday Night Football party in the common room. He says not all of the staff and residents have returned, but he is obviously happy to be home, and he looked good.

We missed Chris but were able to visit briefly with her son, Paul, and his frisky dog, Sancho. Paul is working for a clean-up company. He is able to work at home mostly, working up bid and invoice spreadsheets. Having been in on some large-scale cleanup operations, he is more optimistic than I am about the amount of recovery that can happen. I hope he's right!

Monday night, we had dinner with Bob and Anita. Finding an open restaurant was a bit challenging, and we were on Veterans Blvd., one of the main drags in Metairie. Chevy's came through, though, and we had a nice visit. After we said our good-byes, we made our shivering way to the van and resumed our trek west, listening to our Seahawks kick butt on the radio. About half-time, we pulled into a motel in Lafayette, where we were able to watch the less exciting but still triumphant second half. Our first Seahawks game all year!!!

Lest we forget
Western Louisiana and eastern Texas were hit very hard by Rita. The damage there is being overlooked by the media (mostly), probably because no major metropolitan or tourist areas are involved, but it is as bad as anything we saw in New Orleans and Florida. Along one short stretch of Texas freeway, we saw three separate churches whose north faces were ripped off. Gigantic oaks have crushed homes that have obviously been given up for lost. And we saw more blue-tarp roofs through here than even in east New Orleans.

Mother Nature really had it in for Louisiana this year.

T-t-t-texas
I don't think I've ever been so cold. The cold snap that chilled us in Florida and Louisiana turned us into blue popsicles in Texas. The wind was bitter and relentless. On the bright side, the sunset was extraordinary. We spent Tuesday night in Ft. Stockton.

New Mexico
We were there for about two hours. It was uneventful.

Arizona
I love Arizona. But by this time, we had promised the girls we'd do our best to get home by Saturday the 10th so they could attend a tree-decorating party at my mom's. It meant driving with dedication, despite the lure of the beautiful Arizona scenery. We enjoyed another spectacular sunset past Tucson, cruised through the huge freeway superstructures of Phoenix, and settled in for the night in Buckeye.

California
We've driven the length of California so many times, it was mostly a chore this time around. We did cope with and enjoy some amazing fog, and were impressed by our 3rd stunning sunset in a row. Thursday night, we stayed in Tulare (north of Bakersfield on Hwy. 99). Friday, we drove past the stunning vistas of feedlots (not really stunning, except the smell), Shasta Lake (really stunning), and Mt. Shasta (and how!), and it was a very happy Krewe that crossed into Oregon about 8 p.m. On a whim, I took exit #1 so we could get out and play in the snow for two seconds. It turned out not to have a return ramp to I-5 N., so we ended up sailing right on back into California to turn around at exit #796 or whatever it is. The girls and I were wildly entertained by this, and cheered even louder entering Oregon the second time. I think Frank was less amused. :-)

Oregon
Somebody else pumped our gas for us. That's Oregon for you (state law requires attendants do the pumping). We slept in Eugene. Portland was as pretty as ever. And then we crossed the mighty Columbia River into...

Washington!!
...where we promptly got stuck in traffic. That's Washington for you. Travel the entire country and people keep right except to pass. Enter Washington and everybody jumps into the left lane. And traffic stops. Coincidence? I think not.

We did eventually make it to our very own hometown, though, with about two hours to spare before Grandma's party.

We got off the freeway and entered our residential neighborhood. It hadn't really occurred to us, but that was our first visit to a non-hurricane-ravaged residential neighborhood since Houston in early September. The first words out of my mouth were "It's so clean!" The lack of destruction here seems like a miracle, and it is certainly a big psychological relief. (Washington locals who want to know what the Katrina aftermath is like should imagine Tacoma to Marysville flooded then dried out again, with mud and mildew everywhere, and with *every single house* gutted onto its front lawn. Then imagine living in that environment for three months, with no real end in sight.)

And now
We've been home for a week. We're almost unpacked, almost settled into life here, almost ready for Christmas, and almost happy to be here. Well, the girls are completely thrilled to be here. Frank and I are still grieving for what should have been and wishing things were different.

We did finally plug in the CF card from our camera and found some poignant pictures of our time in Bayou Bonfouca. It's pretty ironic that turned out to be our only real cruising time, but they're fun shots. I'll close with a few of those.


Note all the cruiser gear shown in the 3rd picture: sun awnings, spare gas and water tanks, windscoop (colorful "sail" over the forward hatch, funnels breezes into the cabin), mosquito netting, laundry/dishes bucket, and cushion and pillow for lounging on the bow. The scuff marks on the side of the boat are Katrina damage. There are similar marks on the port side, too.

KQR

The last cruise of the Zombie Princess

Yesterday morning, we put to sea once again, to sail around Key West to the new home of the Zombie Princess at Peninsular Marine boat yard. It was a beautiful, sunny sail, with crisp wind and calm seas, but it was a bit chilly! (A cold front has come through that's bumped the high temp down to about 71 degrees. Brr!!) Marjie spent most of the sail huddled under a blanket, and we got an early (before noon) start, so nightowl Chloe slept through the whole thing. But we had a completely uneventful trip, believe it or not. No rain, no giant swells, no seasickness, so sail mishaps/errors, no spills below. Amazing.

At the boat yard, we tied up to the seawall and emptied off the last of our belongings. The rats found their shady space on the wall pretty interesting, and the yard guys found the rats pretty interesting. But duty called, and before long, the ZP was loaded onto the TravelLift, going up.

Seeing the bottom was pretty interesting. It was "done" last June when we bought the boat, but you couldn't tell by looking at it. I think they didn't do a very careful job. On the other hand, the boat's been through three big storms. There are a couple of whacks (my highly technical term for places where we obviously hit something), one at the bow and one at the crease of the keel, that must be from Katrina. I hope potential buyers won't be too turned off by them.

As for the Krewe, we are headed home. I write this from a motel in Florida City, the gateway to the Keys, or, in our case, the gateway to the continental United States. We've rented a small U-Haul trailer so we can haul home the dinghy and motor. (Our too casual effort to sell them resulted in only one lowball offer. We have always been tempted to keep them as our boat for home, and we figure it won't be too late to sell them once we get there.) It also let us pack quickly and with abandon, instead of having to carefully apportion van space. So we're loaded for bear.

We're keeping our options loose for the trip home, taking one day at a time. Today's big debate is which route to take through Florida. The choices are the Florida Turnpike (efficient but dull with about $20 worth of tolls), Alligator Alley (very, very cool -- gators sun themselves along the freeway -- with a return trip to Naples on the other side, but a longer, squared-off route), or this little principal highway that runs by Lake Okeechobee (an unknown, probably scenic but slow). Whatever we choose, we're all looking forward to some fun land cruising.

KQR

Marina nights at Garrison Bight

During all this time spent resting and soul-searching in Key West, we have become part of the liveaboard community at Garrison Bight (one of KW's city marinas). It's been an interesting experience.

Our neighbor on one side, Tim, is in a 2-room houseboat. He's a massage therapist, drinks quite a bit, and is playing host to his 20yo nephew and the nephew's best friend. They're pretty crowded in there, but they're having a good time. The other night, they threw an anti-hurricane party, celebrating the end of "the season," that was attended by folks from several boats around. The girls and I stopped by (Frank was retrieving the van) for a bit and had several inebriated Conchs tell us how silly we are to quit our cruise. It was entertaining.

On the other side of Tim is a young couple in a pretty Oday sailboat. They are both pilots for a local airline, so the $1000/month slip fees (which include utilities) probably don't make much of a dent. Their snazzy new 350Z sits in the parking lot between flights.

My favorite marina resident is 11-month-old Judah. He lives with his parents in a somewhat rundown but huge houseboat -- probably 1500 square feet of living space in there. He is as enchanted with our rats as I am with him and squeals with delight when we bring them out to visit. Mezza and Snowball are less entertained.

On the next dock over live a couple of guys in their 40's who are trying to break into the music scene. They had their first gig this past weekend. One of them looks amazingly like Frank. The other is a big black guy who wears dark shades at all times and has wonderful rasta dreads.

I love nighttime here. Warm air, sweet breezes, stars and moon, and a quirky shabby-but-ready-for-anything atmosphere. Frank and I agree that we wouldn't want to live here -- guess we like a little less Conch and a little more yup -- but it's an intriguing place.

KQR