False Witness

As soon as I pulled myself up on deck, I looked back from where I paddled and saw the flames. Oh, my god! In disbelief I saw Marine Stadium aflame. At first aghast, I watched the awe spread before me. And mere moments earlier I had paddled my yellow kayak from near the stadium back to my boat. Because I had been facing east, I had been unaware of the overhead firestorm behind me. How could I not know the shore was aflame when I had just parked my car near the shore?

Women Take a Bow

Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet in the movie Titanic.

When Rose reaches Titanic's bow and Jack steadies her, she imagines herself flying to the top of the world. Maybe that freedom-feeling is one of the reasons boat bows attract beauty. Rose certainly finds her wings and freedom in this tragic tale. Bows are often magical places on a vessel. 

Slippery Acts

When Lynne and I flew back to PA, we left Mystique anchored. When I returned 10 days later. Mystique was docked at a local marina about a half mile up away near the mouth of the Manatee Pocket, a tributary to the St. Lucie River. But when I returned to the boat, the scene was not one I could trust.

Living a Shallow Existence

 It dawned on me they were familiar with this anchorage; everything about their actions suggested they had visited here before. That did not surprise me as I had seen many Canadian vessels in the Exumas during January and February. But what I noticed in a few minutes did surprise me.

Gift of the Sea

A small book with a large message and a timeless look at how the sea reveals insight and wisdom. This popular inspirational book, reflects on the lives of American women in the 1930's and on lives today.

Estimating Bill's Iron Will

A couple of weeks after the incident, I met with Jim Sanislo, the insurance inspector and retired detective, and took him by dinghy to inspect the "damage" to both vessels. He took photos of both and announced that he could observe no damages to either boat. Other than Mystique having a few "brush burns" from the two pilings which kept Mystique away from hitting any boats and which I could buff out, nothing had happened to my boat.  

Following Invisible Flow

One's vantage point helps anyone notices Flow. Above a satellite photo taken over a hundred miles above Earth of the tidal flow between some of the Exuma cays in the Bahamas. See the clouds, their shadows and the different coloration of the ocean.

Beach Strolling Soles

As easterly light rises to refresh-renew,

Souls hand-hold-stroll the sands of time. 

A stiff-brisk northeasterly beats-backs-brows.

Each step imprints a tenuous shore line

As surf-suds-whitewash ephemeral evidence,

Sandpipers dip their beaks near my toes.

Their hurry-scurry avoids waving seeping-surges

Cormorant Lessons

Their seabird numbers may rival the prolific pelicans or seagulls. But it is their personality that gains my respect. Quietly confident, not showoffs or attention getters; they don’t have to make noise or play loud Latino music to announce their arrival. They fish with silent bravado. Their catch is a daily deed - not one that commands a photo opp. They hunt isn’t for some ego show; they don’t need to validate their talents. They need to come to the surface and blow up their chests for s camera. To them the sea is their source. Their  livelihood and sustenance. They may fly, but they swim for their food. No traps, nets, snares or hooks, their beaks snag their meals.

4 Anchors and an Ant Hill

I could have all been avoided. We had seen each other from a distance over a month earlier when he moved his boat and anchored a couple days before Hurricane Matthew arrived in Miami. He and I could have exchanged courtesies and express ourselves at that time. He did not know I had about 100 feet of anchor out. Our boats were both facing north west before the storm hit. And both of us did not know how setting out four anchors would affect his boat. 

Laughing at Myself

A few days before friends arrived in Nassau to board Mystique, I shared a burger and fries with fellow boaters and Canadians Leslie and her son Houston while we listened to an American folk trio perform at the Green Parrot Resturant. Afterwards we shared a short taxi return to Rubis' fuel dock where I started my dinghy's Yamaha 4-stroke 15 hp. It started right up like a charm...yet it doesn't always!