Vic Smith wrote:

On Sun, 22 Jun 2008 17:41:45 GMT, Jere Lull wrote:

But different doesn't mean better or worse. I sometimes disagree with
your writing style, but I still read your posts. I'd enjoy reading your
cruise logs.

Yeah, yeah, I should put up or shut up, but our logs are uneventful,
boring even to us.

One 2-week trip can be stated this easily: Sailed to Dividing Creek.
Spent three days watching the wildlife, lazing around and working on
our tans. Big news each day was what we ate. To St. Michaels for
pump-out, ice and water. Pat wandered the tourist-trap main street as I
hit the Acme then returned to the boat for a couple hours'
people-watching. Snacked at the Crab house to "pay" our afternoon's
dockage. Over to Leeds Creek. Didn't run aground (always news with that
shifting sand bar.) Spent a night at the Castle, then moved over to the
spit and anchored close enough to step to the beach. Wandered the
shoreline. Ate. In the morning, watched dozens of horseshoe crabs
evidently mating (most notable event of the trip). Moved up the creek
the next night. Wandered over to Queenstown, pumping out and taking on
water and ice at Kent. Spent a few days. Wandered up to Swan. Spent a
couple of days. Visited the marina store after we pumped out and took
on water and ice. Found replacement wine glasses Pat's been looking
for. Removed the price tags and presented them as an Anniversary
present, never mind that we got married Nov 1. She wasn't allowed to
ask their price. Went home.

Since about 1999, that's been pretty much the template of our cruising.
Storms happened, but we were snug in the anchorage. Stuff broke, but I
fixed it. The important things were the inconsequential: watching kits
explore a suddenly-exposed spit of land, counting turtles, listening to
the silence, watching geese flock up....

I've always enjoyed Rosalie's journal postings here, except for the
food stuff, because I just don't care about that. And I wish she
should stop visiting restaurants as they are closing, because reading
of it makes me think back to when I was managing eateries and viewed
late comers/stayers as the bane of the staff, who like to go home at
closing time. And since I like Rosalie so much, I don't like thinking
of her in that vein.

Even though I haven't managed or worked in a restaurant, I really
don't like to come late to a restaurant. But I do want to eat, and if
it comes to entering late or not eating, I will enter late. I decide
what I want without any delay and try to get things that I think will
be quick to fix (like in Crisfield I got the special which was on the
board at the entrance and at our marina I got salads which I thought
would be already prepared). I eat quickly and we tip well. And then
we leave.

I don't know if the restaurant in Crisfield was actually closing at 8
- it wasn't posted anywhere that I saw and people came in after us. It
wasn't closed when we left at 8:50 and there were still other people
eating.

The same for the Spinnaker at our marina and if it had been closed,
we'd have gone to Courtney's down the road which doesn't have any
staff except for the guy who acts as the front man and his wife who
does all the work.

The Spinnaker has gone through several sets of managers who haven't
always been able to produce edible food, and it has been closed for
about a year. My opinion was that they'd probably rather have had us
late than not at all.


Skip sometimes is too Henry Jamesish with his sentences, but posts a
lot of good info in good spirit. His saga of preparation, crashing on
the rocks, recovery, boat-tuning, etc, is good reading.
On that food subject, I started reading the journal of a guy and his
wife which was pretty interesting the first couple years of the
voyaging. Had some useful sailing, equipment and fishing
observations.
Then they basically settled at anchor in the Bahamas, and for years
the most written words are "volleyball," "poker," "breakfast,"
"lunch," "dinner," and "drinks."
Now my view on food is basically when my stomach starts growling, get
some. But I know others are interested in it, so cie le vie.
As you say above, outside of disasters or near-disasters, the
"inconsequential" is what remains important, and you expressed that
well. I recall Skips account of a stowaway bird a bit more clearly
than his gen pulley issues.
The guy who is always reporting in his journal the poker scores and
what he had for lunch never touches on such sublimities.
Not to give Neal short shrift; his account of tying himself naked to
the mast and raging at the stormy sea was pretty compelling.
Of course somebody replied asking what his dock neighbors thought
of such conduct. Sort of took the romance away right there.

--Vic