Carol and I went to the boat this weekend. To work, relax, see some friends, and plan our next steps. Memorial Day weekend is a pretty big deal in the little town of Oriental, and we were looking forward to it.
I got sick.
Not the kind of overwhelming, debilitating sick that makes you wish for a new body, but the low grade, annoying sick where you are trying to convince your wife that you are "fine. Why?"
We got there on Saturday afternoon. There is a restaurant in Oriental called The Silos. It is built inside a couple of farm silos. They host a musical event they call "Silospalooza". Basically a bunch of local bands playing a variety of music over Saturday and part of Sunday. I was looking forward to kicking back a few and enjoying a bit of music. Alas, it was not to be.
We did see a few people we knew. Kyle and Sandra from Point Marina were at the free docks, and we had a drink with them at the Tiki Hut. We ran into Buddy (of teaching Carol how to sail Sea Bird fame) and caught up with him in the parking lot. We took a visit to Point Marina and saw David and Bobbie, who we haven't seen since we were docked there, planning our departure. We managed to schedule some time on Sunday with Scott and Deb of Paradise Cove. I'm real sorry we missed them, but by Saturday night, even I was beginning to doubt the "fine" mantra. We had supper at M&M's, (of which I ate about half) and retired early. I had a restless night with lots of dreams that all ended badly.
The next morning (Sunday), I was up before Carol, but later than usual for me. Determined to keep our schedule, I brought coffee and breakfast back to the boat. I then proceeded to aggressively lie around doing nothing while Carol made plans for us to meet up with Deb (and their son, Cooper) for the afternoon (Scott was tied up) and then the both of them for the evening. I got to thinking. Around 11:00 I asked Carol if I had a fever. She felt my head and picked up her phone and started texting. "Does that mean yes?"
She rolled her eyes.
I took a nap. I NEVER take naps.
I woke couple of hours later feeling much better. After lounging around for a bit, I decided to take a shower. After the visit to the bath house and a fresh change of clothes, I almost felt human again. A device charging issue presented itself on board Sea Bird, necessitating a trip to the car to retrieve a charging cord.
That is when fate called on me.
As I was turning the corner from my finger pier, I heard a splash. Now this is the Pamlico Sound, and there are fish jumping (up to and including dolphins) so this did not really register. I was simply thinking "wow, that was a big one". Then I heard someone say "Where is the nearest ladder?" That got my attention. Someone is in the water. My mind went into overdrive. Then he said "My dog fell in the water." Oh. OK. But still, very important.
So I located the nearest ladder, he directed his dog, Titan, (a beautiful probably 90 pound white Labrador-looking) to swim to it, and got into the water and put the dog's life jacket on. Another dock neighbor presented us with a rope and I lowered it down to him to tie around the lifting handles on the doggie designed life preserver. "You gonna tie a bolan?" asked my fellow rescuer.
Now for those of you who do not know (or for some reason have not guessed because I am one of them) sailors are a strange bunch. We will welcome anyone into our world regardless of race, creed, rum consumption or temperament. But you have to know certain things. One of them is knots. Sailors love knots. And the most basic of all knots is a bowline. It is a beautiful knot, designed to put a loop in the end of a line that will not slip or collapse, and is easy to untie even after weeks under strain. So he started tying a bowline. A couple of times. Then my compatriot started the scene from Jaws where the boat skipper is trying to teach the landlubber how to tie a bowline. "The rabbit comes out of the hole, goes around the tree, and goes back down the hole." The guy in the water just looks up and says "I'm under a little pressure." "Good point", I thought. How many of my landlocked friends could easily tie even a bow while treading water and calming a dog that weighs almost half what they do? I said "It's OK. Good practice for when you are on a pitching deck at sea in the dark Take your time."
After a couple of deep breaths he presented us with an expertly tied bowline, and we hoisted Titan back to the dock, where he promptly treated us to an impromptu shower as a reward for fishing him out of the drink. I returned to my task of retrieving the charging cord for Carol's IPad.
Today I am fully recovered and ready to make serious progress on the boat. But of course, all I did was drive home.
With the knowledge that I have done my ancestors proud. I have rescued a Titan.
I got sick.
Not the kind of overwhelming, debilitating sick that makes you wish for a new body, but the low grade, annoying sick where you are trying to convince your wife that you are "fine. Why?"
We got there on Saturday afternoon. There is a restaurant in Oriental called The Silos. It is built inside a couple of farm silos. They host a musical event they call "Silospalooza". Basically a bunch of local bands playing a variety of music over Saturday and part of Sunday. I was looking forward to kicking back a few and enjoying a bit of music. Alas, it was not to be.
We did see a few people we knew. Kyle and Sandra from Point Marina were at the free docks, and we had a drink with them at the Tiki Hut. We ran into Buddy (of teaching Carol how to sail Sea Bird fame) and caught up with him in the parking lot. We took a visit to Point Marina and saw David and Bobbie, who we haven't seen since we were docked there, planning our departure. We managed to schedule some time on Sunday with Scott and Deb of Paradise Cove. I'm real sorry we missed them, but by Saturday night, even I was beginning to doubt the "fine" mantra. We had supper at M&M's, (of which I ate about half) and retired early. I had a restless night with lots of dreams that all ended badly.
The next morning (Sunday), I was up before Carol, but later than usual for me. Determined to keep our schedule, I brought coffee and breakfast back to the boat. I then proceeded to aggressively lie around doing nothing while Carol made plans for us to meet up with Deb (and their son, Cooper) for the afternoon (Scott was tied up) and then the both of them for the evening. I got to thinking. Around 11:00 I asked Carol if I had a fever. She felt my head and picked up her phone and started texting. "Does that mean yes?"
She rolled her eyes.
I took a nap. I NEVER take naps.
I woke couple of hours later feeling much better. After lounging around for a bit, I decided to take a shower. After the visit to the bath house and a fresh change of clothes, I almost felt human again. A device charging issue presented itself on board Sea Bird, necessitating a trip to the car to retrieve a charging cord.
That is when fate called on me.
As I was turning the corner from my finger pier, I heard a splash. Now this is the Pamlico Sound, and there are fish jumping (up to and including dolphins) so this did not really register. I was simply thinking "wow, that was a big one". Then I heard someone say "Where is the nearest ladder?" That got my attention. Someone is in the water. My mind went into overdrive. Then he said "My dog fell in the water." Oh. OK. But still, very important.
So I located the nearest ladder, he directed his dog, Titan, (a beautiful probably 90 pound white Labrador-looking) to swim to it, and got into the water and put the dog's life jacket on. Another dock neighbor presented us with a rope and I lowered it down to him to tie around the lifting handles on the doggie designed life preserver. "You gonna tie a bolan?" asked my fellow rescuer.
Now for those of you who do not know (or for some reason have not guessed because I am one of them) sailors are a strange bunch. We will welcome anyone into our world regardless of race, creed, rum consumption or temperament. But you have to know certain things. One of them is knots. Sailors love knots. And the most basic of all knots is a bowline. It is a beautiful knot, designed to put a loop in the end of a line that will not slip or collapse, and is easy to untie even after weeks under strain. So he started tying a bowline. A couple of times. Then my compatriot started the scene from Jaws where the boat skipper is trying to teach the landlubber how to tie a bowline. "The rabbit comes out of the hole, goes around the tree, and goes back down the hole." The guy in the water just looks up and says "I'm under a little pressure." "Good point", I thought. How many of my landlocked friends could easily tie even a bow while treading water and calming a dog that weighs almost half what they do? I said "It's OK. Good practice for when you are on a pitching deck at sea in the dark Take your time."
After a couple of deep breaths he presented us with an expertly tied bowline, and we hoisted Titan back to the dock, where he promptly treated us to an impromptu shower as a reward for fishing him out of the drink. I returned to my task of retrieving the charging cord for Carol's IPad.
Today I am fully recovered and ready to make serious progress on the boat. But of course, all I did was drive home.
With the knowledge that I have done my ancestors proud. I have rescued a Titan.