Remember when I told you I’m a certified First Mate for sailboats? If you don’t, well, you should go read about it. Go on. I’ll wait right here… Everyone caught up now? Good. So now that we’re all on the same page and fully aware that I am a highly qualified Shep of the Sea, let me tell you about sailing.
When we first lived on the boat, we were in Stuart, Florida. It was hot and loud and honestly kind of scary at night. We stayed in a place called a marina, basically where they tie your boat to a dock and then build a bunch of restaurants and noisy nonsense all around to ruin the peaceful sea vibes. They played loud music almost every night. Don’t get me wrong, I like to boogie as much as any groovy Shep, but a boy needs his sleep.
And then there was this thing called the Brightline train. It runs right over the marina and blasts a horn so loud you’d think they were warning the moon. As if we can’t see you coming! Not so bright, if you ask me. Add in the giant highway and, well, it was possibly the worst place for a sensitive Shep boy to be. I was on high alert every single night. But boat life? Oh, that was still my bag, baby. I was the boss of the boat, except for Dad, of course.
We went sailing in the bay while Mom learned how to anchor and Dad learned how to park the boat, because he said it steered like a pig. I’m not totally sure what that means, but I like pigs, so I chose to take that as a compliment. Bacon is my favorite, but I’ll never turn down ham.
We planned D Day for weeks. Dad and I made so many trips to get everything we needed for departure, that’s what the D stands for, obviously. We loaded up on food and supplies and all we needed was good weather for a crossing. We were getting ready to cross something called the Gulf Stream, a big current that runs along the East Coast of the United States. Dad says it doesn’t matter to Shep boys as long as we follow the one boat rule. And if you’d really read about me being First Mate, you’d know the rule already. I swear I should start giving quizzes. The rule is simple: stay on the boat.
So we waited. And finally one day Dad said, tomorrow is the day. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to get out of that place.
But then disaster struck.
Well, not for us. Someone crashed into the train bridge and damaged it. And this was a big problem, because we had to sail under that bridge to get out of the bay. The bridge was so broken it couldn’t open, which meant we were trapped until it was fixed. Don’t worry, no one was hurt. But we had to sit there and wait. And wait. And wait some more.
In the end, we did get out, but it took nearly a week.
I’ll tell you all about what it was like to ride the Gulf Stream next time.
Until then,
Karl out.