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En Route to Calabash Bay, Long
Island
Bear had his last swim in the anchorage of Clarence Town,
shower, supper, a few games, a pretty sunset and
bed
 
Anchor up
at eight, we passed through the silly little buoys,
submerged in a small swell, but they do flash gaily at night. Another fly past, this time by helicopter
Cocktails in hand, we celebrated crossing the Tropic of Cancer.
I was a bit sad as it was
always my ambition to cruise anywhere providing it was between the Tropics.
Here I am en route to sip tea beneath the Statue of Liberty at forty two degrees
north and now I am
whinnying about twenty seven and a bit degrees, at least it will be
summer.
After
further reading we now know the chap who named Long Island
did so because it took so long to sail up and
past. With that in mind I thought I would pass an hour or so by inputting
some further courses/journeys into the GPS. To get some of the way points I had
to look in the fantastic, but rather large Explorer Chartbook (a must cruising
in these waters - Bear modeling one as I don't want
to touch them again). As I picked said book up, I somehow ended the movement
with a paper cut across my right nipple. I cannot begin to describe the searing
pain. No photographic evidence inserted at this juncture as I KNOW you all can
picture / feel / sympathise at this point. I took myself to the stern platform
and splashed, letting the cooling water of the Atlantic Ocean ease the
experience. Feeling slightly better but trashing the GPS idea I went forward,
metal cleaner and cloth in hand to polish the stainless steel which was looking
a bit dull. Feeling good and pleased with the results, I looked up and saw we
were approaching the top of the island and I ought to make my way back to the
cockpit to take the wheel. En route I attempted to break my left middle toe on
the genoa sheet traveler - my toe fitted nicely in
the space between the wheel and the sliding bit, I heard a crack and acute pain.
Said traveler now has a completely different name but you'll have to guess and
double it, say it loudly and in a threatening tone.
Two
previously unwritten about phenomena need to be added to give the fuller picture
are:
Bitch-Lips
– is when I have had a full day in the sun and the wind. A hat doesn’t
necessarily make too much difference to the outcome, although it stops the sun
compounding the situation a little I suppose. By bedtime my lips feel like I
have sucked an exhaust pipe all afternoon, the result - slightly
swollen or fully swollen lips, then I get an overwhelming need to reach for
my lip salve. This is stuck up next to the bed, held strategically by Velcro.
Usually OK by the morning.
Bitch-Beak
– is much more sinister in that I don’t feel it happening. Again a hat helps but
no good against the wind. I only notice when I go to scratch my beak – then it
feels like I am rubbing a stinging nettle or a piece of fine grade cactus over
the end of my proboscis. I have been known to lip salve that as well. If I
remember (rarely) I put a bit of heavy-duty
sunscreen on. This is the start of Beakitis.
Hear Pepe growl.
Rounding
the corner we passed the Columbus Monument we had
been to in the car on our road trip the other day.
We pulled into the bay and
anchored at four, in front
of the Stella Maris Resort, where we had eaten lunch, again on our road trip.
Later I
lost at backgammon and gained little money at Rummikub thought I heard “you
never close your eyes any more when I kiss your lips.................you’ve lost
that loving feeling” playing in my head. I feel as charitable as a poke in the
eye with a poison dart, pigmy still attached, hanging on manfully with little
arms and a vice-like grip. That night I thankfully crawled into bed with my
throbbing left middle toe, pounding left heel, screaming right shoulder girdle,
exquisite right nipple, pulsating lips and beakitis, saying as I went, “ If you
happen to touch my toe I will reciprocate with serious bodily damage of an
unspecified nature and if you come within six inches of my right breast prepare
yourself for the worst”.
Goodnight Darling, sleep tight.
Have you
ever seen someone smiling sweetly just as their pillow is forcefully applied
over their face under great pressure?
Bear has.
Turn over
Bear, turn over.
First
thing next morning, I went to jump out of bed as normal having temporarily
forgotten the previous twenty four hours. As my weight pressed down on my left
heel, throbbing. I looked down to check for blood as my toe felt the first rush
of gravity, the poor little blackened digit couldn't imagine a higher degree of
pain. I managed to scuff the towel over my right nipple during the teeth and
face cleaning procedure........ Joy
ALL IN ALL JUST HOW MUCH CAN HAPPEN
IN FORTY SIX MILES
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