Fishing

BVI, day 9

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Today was the best day and our last full day on the sailboat.

We wanted to get as close as we could to our end point without actually going there. It was still very windy and a very rough ride. There were 6 ft waves that were close together. Everything creaked and loose stuff shifted position. It was hard to walk without falling down.

It seemed to take forever to reach our destination. Paul brought a bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses out after we moored while I was sitting on the bow. We shared the wine only to find out that it was only 10:30 AM. Whoops! Afterwards, we ate a huge lunch. We had a lot of food and drinks left over.

After lunch, we all went snorkeling. For the first time, I put on my wet suit. Just a quick bit of advice, leave the wet suit and flippers at home. They take up tons of luggage space and are not necessary. The water was cool and refreshing, but not at all cold. The only thing nice about a wet suit is that it provided a layer between my skin and whatever was in the ocean. It gave me a feeling of protection, but not enough to take up a quarter of my suitcase. The charter company had flippers to use. Save the room for extra clothes because laundry is a pain. Invest instead in a nice pair of full face goggles.

I felt indigestion after feasting, so I decided to go to shore. It was rocky, not sandy. It hurt to walk on the stones, they weren’t very smooth. At one time, someone was camping on shore. There were a couple of old boat cushions, remnants of a campfire, and miscellaneous empty bottles. At any time I was expecting Tom Hanks to come out with his ball Wilson. Behind the beach was hilly terrain and thick foliage which was rather creepy.

To make things more unsettling, I heard the intermittent crying of a kid in the distance. A kid?? Did someone have a child on their boat? Not that I knew of. Yet the crying continued. It was a while later that we spotted goats. It was a kid after all, just not the kind I originally imagined.

Later in the afternoon, we decided to visit the legendary Willy T bar for drinks. On the second story of the boat, people were jumping off into the water despite the no jumping, no diving signs. I watched several people jump and debated for at least an hour whether or not to give it a try. I spent enough time in my life watching other people have fun and decided I couldn’t forgive myself if I left without jumping. Paul, Stan, and Tim already dove off the platform.

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This was the picture of the Willy T I posted earlier that was shipwrecked from the hurricane on Norman Island. The new Willy T is located on Peter Island.

I was utterly terrified as I stood on the platform overlooking the 15 ft drop. I talked Angela into jumping with me but Cara could not be convinced. Strangers cheered us on as we stood on the platform in fear. We couldn’t wimp out now! Jumping was utterly exhilarating! I convinced Angela to jump in from the water. After jumping once, we jumped in several more times. It was so much fun!

The hardest part about jumping was getting back onto the boat. There weren’t any steps, just slimy dock poles. The guys had to give us a hand. Angela and I bought hot pink Willy T t-shirts to remember the day. Then we decided to head back to our boat for supper. We had a lot of food left. Our adventures of the day bolstered our conversation that evening. But our adventure wasn’t over yet!

Later in the evening, the guys caught another shark. It took Tim 2 hours to fight the monstrous beast. They decided to bring the shark onboard for pictures then set him free back in the water. I thought it was a crazy idea. The shark was huge, almost 7 ft long! But by the time we brought the shark onboard, he was sick of fighting. I was kind of glad I wasn’t planning on doing any more swimming though.DSC_0386

Sorry the pictures aren’t the greatest. It was dark and I didn’t want to get too close!

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What a great way to end our sailing adventure!

 

 

BVI, day 7

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We saw another rainbow this morning as we were leaving Scrub Island.

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This morning Stan caught a shark! We decided to eat fish tacos for lunch with the fish the guys caught (not including the shark). By doing so, we took the risk of fish poisoning. Fish poisoning is from a toxin found in certain reef fish. We had an illustrated page that told us what our risk would be if we ate certain fish. The problem was that there were a lot of fish that looked very similar.

Fish poisoning is not like any regular food poisoning. It is like food poisoning on steroids. It can last for years, cause hospitalization, and in some cases death. This was something that I didn’t want and I was nervous that someone else’s interpretation of the guide for safe fish could be subject to error. I suggested that perhaps someone who knew how to sail the boat should abstain, but I didn’t get any takers. We all risked eating the fish.

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Monkeys Point is paradise. It’s the kind of place I could stay at forever. It had a secluded white sandy beach and the bluest water. I am glad that we did not go there the night before, the weather wasn’t the best for the beach. I would’ve liked to stay here longer, but our trip was coming to an end and we had to make our way back.

Paul and I explored the beach while the others went snorkeling. We were hoping to find a place for supper, however the only building on the beach was the property of a private resort. That night we would be eating supper on the boat as well.

We hooked up to a mooring ball that was not maintained. Tim reinforced the mooring ball with rope. It was still very windy and we did not want the wind to whip the boat into shore. The sand swirled around into our eyes on the beach. But at least today is warm and sunny.

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We still had to pay a mooring ball fee of $30 to stay at an unmaintained mooring ball. That is what we had to pay every night for a maintained mooring ball.

This cairn was located at the end of the beach. There were coconut trees on the beach. The guys were entertained by trying to take a stick and knock one down. They were unsuccessful in their efforts.

This spot had the best beach by far. It was very secluded, but on the flip side there really wasn’t anything to do there as far as restaurants, shops, and entertainment.

Would I go back again? Absolutely!

 

Sea sick

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I spent the whole weekend on the water. Sailing by day and fishing by night. My body is swaying to an unheard unsteady beat. I feel sea sick. It is slowly going away.

Saturday morning, Paul and I took my mom sailing for her birthday. Not just my mom, but a whole fleet of boats followed us to a local festival. We also took our daughter Arabella, my sister-in-law Carla, and my autistic brother Matt. Carla and Matt never sailed before.

The trip went better than expected. Matt did really well on the boat, better than Carla who spent a lot of time complaining about how hot she was. It took us a long time to eat lunch with our big group. By the time we finished, there was only an hour left of the festival. We were downhearted about having to pay full price until they decided to let us all in for free.

Paul, Arabella, and I stayed overnight at the marina in town alongside our friend Harv. Harv wanted someone to sail back with him in the morning. Harv is in his mid-80’s. We discussed what to do in an emergency. I piped in that I would probably freak out and never want to go sailing again. It was decided that Arabella would sail back with Harv. They had a great time playing cards together while the auto pilot sailed them home with Paul and I beside them.

I was dead tired when I got home. A few hours after I got home, I received a call from Ted and Cindy who wanted to take me salmon fishing for the first time. They asked a couple of times this year and last year, but I was never able to go last minute. Paul has hell week at the theater, so I decided to go without him.

The three of us left yesterday evening to salmon fish on Lake Michigan. After we got past the breakwater, Ted opened the motor on his boat and we were flying across the waves. I have never been on a boat that fast. It was exhilarating. I was not afraid even when we were in 100 feet of water. Ted cast the lines in the water. The down riggers made a melodic humming noise in the water. It was very peaceful.

Then we waited. We saw fish on the fish finder, but they were not biting. Ted gave me pointers on how to reel in a big salmon. Cindy showed me her big box of lures. Ted marked spots where he saw schools of fish. It seemed like we went in circles all night. We danced around other boats. We saw the lights go on in the towns nearby. The lake became quiet and dark. It was very beautiful. I was cold. Still no bites.

The other boats filled with men left the water. I didn’t see any other women fishing. Still no bites. I could tell that Ted was upset. They wondered why the fish weren’t biting. They looked at me. I hoped they weren’t going to throw me overboard. Maybe I was bad luck. They worried that I was bored and would never come back again. The lake grew dark. The other boats left. No bites. No bites. I was not afraid. Even in 100 feet. Even in the dark.

I was starting to feel sleepy. Ted pulled out the fishing poles. Cindy steered the boat. I put away the glow in the dark lures. I put one away and several others stuck to my clothing. I wanted to be helpful but didn’t know what else to do. Ted opened the motor on the way back in the dark. I was a little afraid of what I couldn’t see. I felt like I was driving with my eyes closed.

We got back after midnight. I almost fell down the steps when I got home. The room was swaying. The steps seemed to move.  This morning I felt hungover. I had a headache. My stomach felt queasy. It was hard to eat. The room moved. I wanted it to stop. My body wanted to fight the feeling.

Paul has been talking about sailing the loop. Retiring on the sea. Getting a bigger boat. Cruising the Caribbean. Sailing to Tahiti. All I want right now is for the room to stop spinning.

Lilacs, mushrooms, roadkill, and dandelion wine 

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Every year when the lilacs bloom, I think of Darryl.

Darryl is my husband’s step-dad. He is a rugged outdoors man of the wild north woods. He doesn’t even have (gasp) internet. Except for being a non smoker, he is reminiscent of the Marlboro man of old. He is tall, lean, and ruggedly handsome for a man in his early 60’s. He has a head full of thick wavy hair. He works full-time as a forklift driver. He is a hard worker and has many other side jobs such as janitor, chimney sweep, and lumberjack. In the winter, he hooks up a plow to his pick up truck to earn some extra money. In the summer, he works in his massive garden.

Darryl lives off the land. In the fall, he is a deer hunter. He even goes black powder hunting. He processes his own venison. He takes the hides from the deer and sews his own clothing. In the winter, he goes ice fishing. In summer, he fishes from his boat. Life for Darryl is simple yet satisfying.

Darryl also picks up roadkill. One time he picked up a dead raccoon off the side of the road. He threw it into a crock pot and served it to my kids telling them it was chicken. They loved it.

I have learned over the years not to eat any of Darryl’s food. He has been known to leave brats in the fridge for months then serve them. Sometimes his food has a funny taste to it. He seems to have a strong constitution though.

Darryl also makes his own wine. He never follows a recipe when he makes his wine out of unusual ingredients such as potatoes or dandelions. It doesn’t always taste the greatest and sometimes has a high alcohol content. People have been known to spend the evening sick after a few glasses. In fact, a couple of weeks ago Paul and Darryl shared a bottle of wine while out fishing. Darryl lost his balance and fell out of the boat. Then he fell several more times on his walk back home. If Darryl offers me his wine, I tell him that I am strictly a beer drinker which isn’t entirely true.

Darryl says that every year when the lilacs bloom, the morel mushrooms are ready. Morel mushrooms are a very expensive delicacy in these parts. One year, he asked us if we wanted to go mushroom hunting with him. It sounded like an adventure, so we went. We combed the woods and found a few. On the car ride home, my skin was crawling with ticks. Darryl and Paul decided to fry up their mushrooms for supper that night. I don’t like mushrooms and was a tad bit worried when they wanted to eat their find since there is a false morel mushroom which is similar but poisonous. Darryl was fixated on mushrooms for awhile and even started carving a large intricate mushroom out of wood.

By far the most interesting story I heard about Darryl happened the time that he cut his leg open with a chain saw. Now Darryl is the cheapest guy that I know. He has been known to dumpster dive or collect items that others don’t want. In fact, he is a bit of a hoarder. His house is decorated in vintage 1970’s mismatched furniture. He has two refrigerators in his kitchen, one works and the other he uses for storage. After he cut his leg with a chain saw, he was too cheap to go to the doctor to get his leg stitched up. So he did it himself. He took a needle and some fish line and sewed it right up. He could win a survival competition hands down (or even tied behind his back)!

Darryl sure is an eccentric fellow.