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The Storm | Part 2

This is a continuing story. If you missed Part 1 of our boating adventure, you can read it HERE.


I should mention that I'm a pretty darn good slip parker in perfect conditions. A sunny day. No wind. Very little current. Double slips…even better. No audience on the dock? I can ace it every time. However. Add in one or more of those variables, and I quickly lose all confidence in myself - becoming akin to a bumbling-land-lubber-idiot behind the wheel. *See chapter on boat parking lessons with Chris B. when I couldn't get the darn thing into a slot to save my life because the wind and current were so bad, I was sucked to the dead end of the docks in a matter of seconds - stuck as a duck. Or when there was a couple camped out on the end of The Pointe watching boat traffic for kicks, and suddenly, I forgot who I was, where I was headed, or even the fact that the boat was under my control (I jest…sort of). But back to the story… All that kept going through my head was Captain Chris' phrase: “Calm seas do not a skillful sailor make.” So, I gritted my teeth and was determined to get our soaking wet selves safely tied up in this public docking area if it killed me. At least no one was outside watching this time (remember: raining cats and dogs). In we went. I watched the wind. I felt the current. I tried not to pay too much attention to the very rotund back-end of another boat protruding into my already tight alleyway. I yelled at my husband on the bow to grab the boat pole - just in case. Thank goodness we had the smaller boat this particular afternoon! Feigning confidence, I made a sharp turn in, committing to a slot. Enough of the bow snuck in between the fingers so that we couldn't continue to drift past. *jazz hands* I let the motor click into neutral. Then got overly excited and revved into reverse with a bit too much adrenaline-gusto. Not enough to take us back out, thankfully. I took a breath and eased back in. My husband sacrificed the last bit of dry left on his body to tie us up securely. SHEW! We'd made it. With nary a scratch, I might add. *pats self on back* It was a long half an hour with the four of us (our two pups were along) huddling as close to the center of the bimini as possible as the huge droplets pelted us from every direction. We were wet, cold, and praying we didn't hear anymore thunder and have to make a run for it to safer shelter. Playing some music helped for a little while. We tried wrapping up in wet towels to rid ourselves of goosebumps - that didn't really help at all. We wondered why there was no mini bar on the boat for such occasions - a shot of whiskey would have come in handy. And finally … the rain slowed. We got the go-ahead from land to head on home to Crazy Horse. Wringing ourselves out as best we could, we each kept a dog on our lap for warmth as we started the chilly ride to the marina. Dreaming of warm showers, cozy dry clothes, and steaming cups of coffee distracted us from the discomfort and bolstered our spirits as we motored back. In my mind, on my personal boating journey, I sure think I earned a stripe that day.


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