Sitting on the back of my boat...

Sitting on the back of my sailboat, watching the seagulls fight over scraps that have been thrown over by wayward sailors I sit and think about what am I going to do today. I look off the starboard bow and see 2 red eared slider turtles floating hoping lunch is served soon. A grey Haran stands by the edge of the bank waiting a baby perch to get a bit closer so that his belly can be full. I realize that I too am hungry.

Going down below I remove the companionway boards that have been fashioned out of acrylic. These boards are fashioned very similar to the way sailors have been making their boats for hundreds of years. The main difference is that these boards are not out of Teak, but an acrylic. My main complain with them is that they are cumbersome and see through. When down below visitor that pass by the transom of the boat can peer in and see what is going on inside of the cabin.

When I get the boards out of the way and I make my way down the 3 steps skipping the last 2. This little sailor skip I developed to not have to spend so much time getting down below. I'm sure I save at least a second or two and definitely risk my neck if I land wrong, but it seems so nautical or "boat like." When I land I reach into the cupboards and get out lunch. Bread, lots of it and a jar of peanut butter, and a spoon is all I need. Arriving topsides, I sit back down behind the helm and get my spoon. The great thing about a spoon is it can be used to spread the peanut butter and used to just scoop some out for quick consumption. After making my sandwich, I salute several passersby with a jovial ahoy, and go back to my sandwich.

Dock life is very formal in the most informal way. There is just a certain "code" that dock mates follow one of which is to always greet everyone, even if you do not like them. This code makes everyone appear extremely friendly. The root of this is that you want to be kind to everyone, as in an emergency all are your saviors. The code definitely follows you onto the water, and whenever someone is in need of assistance all grudges are off.

Behind me I hear the all too familiar swoosh of carp coming to the surface. Sometimes 3 maybe even 4 feet long these scavengers will eat anything. From dog food, to algae growing on the bottom of your sailboat, they will crunch or scrape it off with their bony tooth. They must have done a lot of crack as they only have a tooth. They will drag this tooth across the bottom of your boat and wake you up at all hours, day and night. Don't let a few of them get wind that your boat has not had its bottom job done in six months or you will find that they will all come to dine.

I finish my sandwich and realize that I haven't moved very far since breakfast. Being that it is a Saturday I really should follow my normal routine and clean, scrub and do boat maintenance so that I can head out. Today is different, no party cove, no scrub the boat till I'm worn out. Today is a different day. Today I am going to pretend is Sunday, and I think I will just sit here and watch the world turn. The sun has already made his pilgrimage out of the depths of the lake, and it is at "high noon." The clouds have taken the day off and are nowhere in sight. Summer is quickly approaching and so are the 100 degree days. Today is different it is a mean 75 degrees. No wind so don't bother thinking about going sailing, besides that is more of a Saturday activity and today is Sunday remember?

My boat rocks gently from side to side, as a fisherman pays no attention to my home as he heads off to find his hidden treasure beneath the dark and wrinkled folds of the lake. I excuse him as he is just a guest into my world and does not know how he is intruding. Most have no idea that the peace of the lake and my life on it, is intruded when a rouge wake comes to meet my hull. The hull pushes back, but eventually gives in to the power of the wake of water, and gives to the side gently. With nothing to fight back but a peanut butter spoon, I give up. I would raise the white flag but that would require me to dig into my locker and find the flag, and would require me to give up at lease one mouthful of peanut butter. This is a sacrifice that I cannot make. So without further ado I go back to my spoon.

I see more sailors coming toward me. "Permission to come aboard," I hear. "Permission granted," I exclaim. This is part of that formal informality that I was referring to. The couple boarding my boat have been aboard hundreds of times, and we are close friends, but the formality of requesting permission never ends.

They take perch in the cockpit in the same fashion as I. Laying back like they have nothing to do, but watch the turtles that are still hovering over their lunch. I inquire as to what they have on their list for the day. "Nothing," they exclaim proudly. "We are taking the day off, to just relax." "Ah this is the life," I think to myself, this is the epitome of dock life. "Well, would you like a sandwich?" I ask. "No, we just ate before we came over." "Well whatever should we do?" I asked inquisitively. "Let's drop the tender, and go over to the island and see if anything has washed up from the weekend." They replied.

Now there are a few islands on the lake, they have shores that face main channels of water that the "weekend power boaters" travel. One thing that sail boaters know is that when half naked and drunk power boaters cruise by is that they drop things into the water. Many of those things are quite valuable to real boaters. Life vests, (who would think those are important until the game warden comes by), fenders, coolers, and many other useful objects wash up and land upon the littered shores of the sandbanks and island shores. Now we could leave those items to waste or we could as good stewards of resources go and harvest them, as it were.

We idle over to a much larger boat that has a tender on davits. After lowering the 10" dinghy into the water and starting the little gas motor, we all board and head toward the islands as the fisherman did earlier looking for hidden or sometimes no so hidden treasure. Upon arrival we notice that people have been camping on the islands and left some useful items for us to harvest. After collecting 2 good ski vests, a cooler and 2 fenders we sit back and look at our bounty. Pleased with ourselves we break into the cooler and notice some still cold cans of our favorite beverage. Well 2pm it must be time for a beer I think to myself.

After wandering around I gather my things and we all get together and head back to the docks with our treasure. Upon arriving we look for those in need of the new items. I know that I already have too many life vests and fenders, but there is always someone that can use these items. This time I do not head back to my boat but grab a chair alongside the dock and start another luxurious conversation about nothing with some of my other dock mates that have appeared form the belly of their boat. They too are enjoying a sandwich and are just letting their eyes wander at the nature around them as I had earlier.

This is home... Someday I will do the same thing on the ocean. This is community this is my life, welcome to it....

Pirate Mike..

The seas never stop, they come and go bringing to their inhabitants the substance of life, so is the tide of our life's, people come and go and with them they bring the substance of life… don't ever give up on people, as you will have given up on your yourself… - Another original from Pirate Mike…