Kyle swallowed the anchor in Florence, Alabama. Up to that point he'd been the captain of a replica of Columbus' Niña. Twice he'd taken her through the Panama Canal. Enroute they visited the US west coast, east coast, Caribbean and inland rivers. But it was in Florence that he fell prey to the irresistible sound of the siren. When I kidded him about it he said, "There was a woman involved." There usually is. Good thing Bicki lashed me to the mast for we too might have swallowed the anchor in Florence.
Bathroom Door Ornamentation, Florence Marina
Dumpster in the Middle of the Florence Waterfront Park
View from the River Bottom Grille Restaurant
I Can See Three States from Here!
Bicki and I trade off helm duty. It was my turn to bring Nellie into the anchorage at Union Hollow, MM222. I was alone in the pilothouse as Bicki had gone forward to ready the ground tackle. With no input from the helm Nellie came to an abrupt stop. Hmm, the chart indicated 6', but the lack of motion meant we were aground. What immediately went through my mind was, how can I blame this on Bicki ... ;-)
Reflexion of the Real World
Once Nellie was extricated from the mud we hightailed it out of Union Hollow. Besides being just a wee bit shallow, it was open to the developing thunderstorms.
John William 37VT68's mast found a lightening bolt this Spring. The big loser in the chance encounter, other than the mast which exploded, was all the electronics aboard. Call us cowards, but Nellie's mast is down as we hear thunder rumbling in the distance.
On the hook and in the rain in J.P. Coleman State Park, MM220. I'm happy to report that Bicki didn't go aground this time (but only because I insisted we anchor in 18' of water). A total of 37 miles, and two anchoring attempts, brings the journey's total to 2,595 miles. DBH
