Reminder...Okay, we are docked at this ghetto, little spot in the heart of Bubba Land. We decided to stay for another night due to impending bad weather.
In the morning, we walked to town but we couldn't find it. It turned out to be the two diners that were closed and the insurance office that I poked my head into for directions....the agent had no shirt on!!! It was humid, but really. Despite that sight, there were beautiful old oak trees to enjoy all over the village and the grand daddy of them all had a plaque from the Historical Society saying it was over 1000 years old.
During the afternoon I scrubbed the canvas and Kerm did all manner of 'captainly' things. At one point, three toothless, tattooed, bubbas and their queen bee stopped by in a john boat to fuel up (with gas, they were already fueled up on Colt 45). The woman sauntered up to Duane, the clueless old dockmaster/dockhand and planted a big wet one on his adoring face. I was struck by how I have seen lots of southern women unabashedly "strut their stuff" despite any shortcomings they may have in the physical department. Now don't get me wrong...I think this is great. To feel good in your own skin is a wonderful thing. Anyway, after some hooting and hollering they were on their noisy way. All well and good so far...
About three hours later a ratty shrimping boat comes barreling towards the dock...guess who our intrepid fisher-people are? Lady Strutsalot and two members of her male harem. They barged their boat into the space between us and an innocent sailboat docked ahead of us. When I went to fend them off our bow pulpit and anchor I swear I couldn't understand anything the guy at the back of the boat was saying ...the mumbles sounded something like "We're goin' fishin' ". So I said "Well, good luck." and he gave me the weirdest look...I knew we had a failure to communicate. I beat a hasty retreat to the cabin.
Kerm was concerned about the sailboat since the owners had gone out to dinner, so he moseyed over for a look-see. The shrimper had knocked off the sailboat's Magma BBQ grill and was squishing their dinghy against the dock like a bumper. They were not at all concerned and were stumbling around the dock filling up their boat with water and drinking lots more beers. They seemed to be acting somewhat belligerent. Kerm got the registration numbers but didn't feel comfortable confronting them about a boat that wasn't even his...plus they were scary...the woman alone could have kicked Kerm's and my butt.
Darkness came and we figured they would leave on the high tide but they did not. The sailboat's owner came back and took pictures of the damage but he didn't confront the crew either. We spent an uneasy night with our cabin doors locked and slunk away at first light while the shrimpers were sleeping off the alcohol.
Rednecks 1 Yuppies 0
Friday, April 29
New day... lots of dolphin activity in Minin Creek cheered us up. The currents were against us all day and we were feeling weary so we stopped early at Osprey Marina. Good prices on diesel fuel and a five star rating on the Active Captain website. Clean bathrooms, new docks, parklike setting, really nice people...hurray!!! They even gave us a goody bag at registration that had cheese and crackers for appetizers and Hunny Buns for bfast!
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| Warren really like this place... |
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| Smelling the roses |
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| Taking it easy |
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| Exploring the marina office and The Osprey Grill |
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| Conferring with a turtle who was swimming around the Belle |
Once we were settled into our slip a huge boat came in and docked ahead of us. This is what it looked like through our front windshield.
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| Note the nice docks and grassy areas. |
Went to bed with the sun.
Will do more 'ketchup' soon.
Love to all family and friends-
Christie
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