Search Party!

These pictures are shortly after the complete destruction of the port U-joint Wednesday afternoon and the morning after cleanup of the transmission oil and small debris. Bottom line, Brad, me, and our mechanic are all safe as is the boat. She may be trailered back to Mathews. Or, we stay in the water, and figure what's next. Someone remarked that we could remove the port prop and limp around on one engine nearby not far from the marina until a solution presents itself. I don't think that sounds like fun, but moreover, we need to get to the bottom of this first. So, I ask you dear readers and fellow yachters, do you use your old boat or old car such that you expect it to perform as it should? Or do you baby the heck out of it and fear a failure at any moment if you should use in a normal way? We had the belief based on the restoration and rebuild and all the marine industry folks we'd worked with that we would be able to have the boat perform. However, only 3/4 of it performed as it should, 2 engines and 1 transmission/v-drive, while 1/4 decided to fall to pieces. I'd pushed her up to 3600 RPMs on our return from St. Michaels, which is only about 800 or so less RPMs than when disaster struck. Was failure imminent at some point in the future and we just hurried it along? Who knows, at least not at this time, but having our mechanic (note - he is not a transmission person) aboard was, if anything, comforting. Remember this picture from this previous post ? Basically, the "neck" between broke. The Paragon died. Right now, all the experts are conjecturing and tasked to figure out how to fix this. What exactly happened is now a figure pointing exercise. Frankly, if someone would just step up and say, you know, I think I fucked up, I'd respect that and think a turning point had been reached where my shaken confidence would be renewed in the folks involved. It's a possibility that we will fully ditch the remaining Paragon and go with new (or new to us) gears. If that is the direction - there'll be stories a-plenty. If I loved yachting before, now I'm married to it. I can't sell a broken boat, so I've got to see this through. I don't want to sell the boat, but you can't blame me for thinking about it. 2024 keeps landing punches when I was getting hopeful that things were turning around. Silly me. So, all I can say is bring it on - and as someone suggested yesterday, "get a second mortgage, redo it all new and then refi when rates go down - you only go around once".

Greetings ILY fans! Many of you know that one of the things I have wanted to do with CAYUGA is to take her to St. Michaels for the annual Chesapeake Chapter's Antique & Classic Boat Show. This was its 36th year and running. I had done a previous post about it " Boat Show Time " and the ongoing frustrations with getting the boat in the water. 2024 has been a challenge and too often anything but good. Specifically, as an example, on January 1st I woke up after a lovely dinner party the evening prior, and while sitting at the dining room table enjoying my espresso, I happened to look at my ring finger and oh no! one of the sapphires was missing from my new ring! I could not believe it and was fighting the idea that it was a bad omen. Well, from there on, things went downhill. The boat was having issue after issue. There were two unexpected and tragic deaths of past coworkers. Work problems. Identity theft. Landscaping mishaps. And a bizarre family development. Even minor everyday things have taken the difficulty scale to new heights. If normally it takes one time to do something or should be a short process, it's been anything but. 2024 is the year of persistence, patience, perseverance, and a big pain in the ass. But, perhaps my string of bad experiences may be winding down, or at least on vacation? I picked up my ring last Wednesday! A good start to hopefully a string of positives. So on to the main story. A good one. On Thursday afternoon of last week, June 13, we departed the marina at approximately 1pm and arrived at St. Michaels around 3:30pm. CAYUGA ran well. Her port engine started with some barking but fortunately, that went away and our ride down the bay was into a 12 knot breeze that she handled admirably. I juiced up her RPMs while we turned into Eastern Bay to run over the quartering waves and once around the point and headed south through Prospect Bay into the Miles River, we slowed down and cruised along enjoying the scenery (12 knots in video). The weekend was fantastic. The weather was great. I slept on the boat while Brad drove back and forth to take care of the dog (she does not like the boat - it's too loud). I made a beautiful arrangement with flowers from my gardens, set up a pitcher of iced cold hibiscus tea on a serving tray (a wedding gift with the island of Bermuda carved into it - our favorite place), and displayed the CAYUGA engraved glasses. We looked great. Folks stopped and asked about her - we were all too happy to oblige offering many to come aboard. I had signed up on a whim to be judged to find out what folks thought of her and learn what we would need to do to make her competitive next year. That judging took place Saturday morning. The awards ceremony was a Sunday luncheon. I'll just get to it. CAYUGA won a Gold Level award in her class - Late Classic. I had not expected that. I never even considered it. Not in my wildest dreams. Not even a little bit. The only award higher is Platinum. I was so surprised and stunned and speechless, except to say to the audience while holding back tears, "Thanks Dad". Not my usual calm, collected self when handed a microphone. In past stories, I've shared how Dad is the reason I was introduced to boating and found I loved it, so being Father's Day, the tears just flowed both sad and happy. CAYUGA motored home with her first, of what I hope to be many, awards and accolades. We have much work to do! I'll tell you all about how I prepped her in an upcoming story. But for now, I am on the lookout for more good things to come. Time for some bubbly to celebrate the accomplishment and a huge thank you to all of you who have supported us, in every way. I'm exhausted but it's all been worth it.

Oh, the joy of fixing things... After a nice run from Annapolis and back at the dock last Sunday, I began to fuss with the wheel because it's still loose, turning it all the way starboard and then port. And then while turning to port, the wheel started to unscrew. Yes, it just kept on spinning. Oh s***! What if that had been while underway? A true I love yachting moment that thankfully did not come to pass. Our friend Berke George, AKA the Cannon Man, is in town, he arrived last Wednesday. Given that we still have a bit of boating to do before CAYUGA gets hauled for the season, the Edson wheel needed to be fixed. Berke has a wealth of knowledge regarding boats and how things work on boats so who better to dig into this problem. As you know, we tried this once, then again, and now here we are doing it one more time. We'd thought our love of yachting moments with this wheel were behind us but not quite yet. So on a beautiful Thursday last week, Berke and Brad went to town on the wheel. The culprit was discovered to be a set screw on the shaft that had been worn and was sliding on the shaft but also scoring it. That's not a pretty picture. Berke filed the shaft to both repair and smooth it out. Then the hunt was on for a new set screw and a threading tap. For those of you who may not know what that is, because I certainly did not, it is used to create threads a screw can go into. I had to look it up on the google, so here's a picture for ya in the middle. We surmise that this was going on all along to some degree, we can't be sure but there's no doubt in our mind that the instructions we followed the second time around got this situation to mayday status. The "turn the wheel all the way and then turn hard again" directions - we don't plan to repeat unless totally necessary. I'm not saying anything we were instructed to do in any way was wrong or bad - what happened was a mechanical deficiency. Berke discovered that the old set screw couldn't fully and properly situate itself against the shaft because of the hub hole threads. Basically, no screw would until the threads were all the way through the hub hole, so this was bound to happen. As an aside, technically, the boat could be maneuvered with throttle alone but that would be only at low speeds, I would not want to try steering that way going at a cruising speed. I don't use the wheel to dock, it's all gear shifting and bow thruster. My comfort level with steering CAYUGA around is growing with more and more scenarios we get her into. However, it's nice to have confidence in your basic boat operating machinery! So Brad and Berke went to Fawcett after not being able to find the right screw or tap at the marina boatyard we are docked at. Two folks at Fawcett were struggling to find what we needed, a longer 5/16th set screw and the same size tap. In was called a wisened old salt who descended into the basement from where he emerged victorious in his quest with just the right screw and tap. Berke remarked that "now we're in business". Once back at the boat, the tap was used to completely thread the whole way through the hub hole. And while Berke was at it, he took some time to Flitz the wheel and get it looking like new. If you don't know about this stuff, you are missing out! This wheel is shiny - I like shiny metal stuff. It's so nice to have a working wheel. We were out today bringing the boat home and it was night and day steering ability. And it looks great too. Look at that set screw doing its job like it's supposed to. Thanks to the always awesome Fawcett folks. And way to go Berke! I learned so much listening to you just to do this post with how you explained exactly what you did and what was needed to be done. I am a much better yacht girl today than I was yesterday.

Known to anyone paying attention to any news, in particular those reading about events in the State of Maryland, a ship hit a bridge and the bridge collapsed. Tragic for the loss of life and after that, all of the other mess the M/V Dali created. A good friend said in a text yesterday, "good riddance". Agreed. Brad and I signed up for bridge updates so we know when traffic is messed up in general or there's an accident (traffic is messed up) or some other event that causes... traffic to be messed up. But I digress... See, we live at the end of a peninsula and at the foot of the Bay Bridge so it's both convenient and not so. Overall, our community is a small slice of heaven, surrounded by state forest and the Bay at our feet.. Part of what makes the community so great is that there's a small marina, and it affords us fantastic views of the Bay. Going back a few years, we had a front row seat for the Everforward grounding. But yesterday, after a bridge update, we decided to walk out to the marina and watch the departure. Here's the email: Yesterday was very windy, gusting upwards of 25 knots. There were more than 4 tugs involved - we could see two on the starboard side alone, plus one behind and we assume another two on the port side, maybe more. There was a marine police escort and a CG boat following. Of course the local media had a helicopter buzzing overhead once the ship got closer to the Bay Bridge. Frankly, it was a bit nerve-wracking to think of the worst-case scenario but the "out of an abundance of caution" shutting down the bridge was smart. I tried to do some narration, but the wind was louder than me. Another person out watching had binoculars and he said to look at the bow where I could see wreckage of the bridge. That was eerie. So here's what we saw in pictures and video: And that's a wrap on the M/V Dali. She's currently moored in Norfolk, VA. It was a good I love yachting day for Dali, having it made it past the Bay Bridge and out of MD. Good riddance.

We want to recognize those who we have relied on to maintain and enhance CAYUGA. To keep even a smaller boat running well and looking good requires building a team of marine specialists, such as engine and electrical professionals, varnish specialists, and other parts and accessories suppliers. From the outset, when CAYUGA first got splashed in the waters of the Chesapeake at Campbell’s in Oxford, we have come to rely upon Cobe Marine in Pasadena (headwaters of the Magothy River) for advice and parts for our two Marine Power gas engines. Not only does Cobe seem to stock the parts for our thirty-year-old engines, but they order and quickly get what we need if they don't have it. Just this week, we wanted to replace the engine thermostats on both engines (more on that I love yatchting issue later). I called Cobe and was informed there was one and could get the other the next day. The next morning, I had an email proactively letting me know that the completed order was waiting for me to pick up. To back up, two years ago, it was Cobe who recommended that Marty Brown Racing rebuild the engines for us. As those of you who have read prior posts about the refit of engines and gears, our experience with Marty Brown was excellent. So, here is a massive shout-out to Cobe Marine – a local marine business – that is integral to our ability to be good stewards of CAYUGA.

A few weeks back, a viewer of the CAYUGA YouTube playlist commented that my video "Fired up!" did not show what they were expecting. I was of course crushed that I had not delivered on my title, however, for those of you who know our friend Mr. Eney it makes total sense. Fired up is already fired up and getting more so. But to make it right, I responded that I would record a new video of CAYUGA starting up. I believe what I've created sorts out the difference. One small thing... I love yachting as you know, and the moments have been plenty with getting the boat back in working order - the kind of order that lets you relax (a little) while taking her out for a spin. So, for all the good ILY times, and our delivery was fantastic, it was about a week and a half later, when we started up to go out and watch Wednesday Night Racing, that the port engine was grumbly and barky. It was not right, the idle was off, and there's some visible exhaust. HOW IN THE WORLD.... could that be. What happened, what changed, what the *heck? Take a listen: Thus ensued many emails to engine guy with videos so he could watch, listen, analyze, and provide his initial thoughts on what was going on. In the meantime, I took to watching more YouTube videos about engines and carburetors. Since there was an idle issue, that was my first guess. This guy might be my hero with an awesome Holley carb how-to. Even so, I was not about to try it myself, but called in our local expert. Yesterday, Portside Marine visited, and Chris and I went through the port engine. Chris did the tuning, but I learned a lot watching and listening to him in front of me. I get it - and it's such a simple mechanical device in general but the right settings are somewhat fussy to get dialed in just right. In the end, here are the results of the carb fix (and I'm feeling pretty good about my burgeoning engine skills that my hunch on the carburetor being the culprit was correct).

A friend called and said, "I have an I love yachting story for you". A little background, he's been restoring, to perfection, a late classic catboat. What's a catboat? It's not this but click the picture to find out what it really is. He decided to have a professional paint the bottom in preparation for the usual summer of barnacle-infested waters of the Northern Chesapeake. So happens he has an old friend who owns a boatyard in a nearby state. The hope was not to get a better price on the work but to get the job done well. You can see where this is going, right? After a successful splash of the boat for the first sail of the season, the centerboard was stuck and he was unable to lower it. After several attempts to get the centerboard down, the decision was made to take the boat to a local service yard and get it hauled out for inspection and repair. Once out of the water, and after the stuck board was unstuck, it was blatantly obvious the yard that performed the professional paint job was also the culprit for the board having been stuck. To make this perfectly clear, here's a model of a catboat as an example for what the centerboard looks like when it is in the retracted (up) position. And the punchline is... the painter painted the centerboard in the up position. The paint had caused the sticking board. However, most egregiously, the painter had left about half of the centerboard without a fresh coat of paint. Seems the painter just didn't know that the centerboard needed to come down to do the job right. Ya just can’t make this stuff up. Examples like this are the reasons why there is seemingly no end to the I love yachting stories shared amongst fellow boaters everywhere.

I pinch myself every time I look at a 2021 picture of CAYUGA somewhere having fun with friends. Yesterday was hoped to be the day the boat was put back in the water after just over two years. Two years. Nope, that's not right. Two years? Two years! If you know the scene, go with it... As I started this last night, I was listening to The Stranglers' song - Too Precious - on vinyl, because I got old stuff, yeah. If you don't know the artist, you might want to, I found them in the early 80s during that wonderful time of new wave, punk, and international music influx that informed my listening habits for life. The word sublime comes to mind to describe the sound I hear in this song. Anyway, that's what CAYUGA is. She is precious. Over the course of the still ongoing non-yachting couple of years, besides distracting myself with plants and whatever else, I've been puttering away at organizing and deleting duplicate/bad/etc photos and videos in my online storage... so I can have more photos and videos in online storage! Long live the cloud. Pretty sure most will be of CAYUGA or my gardens when it's all said and done. Anyway, here's the memory lane of photos I ran across last night. I hope soon there will be *new and improved* memories! I finished up this post with another great group, Men At Work: Down by the Sea. Let me share this; I love a song for the sound, often the words or meaning is not an issue or focus for me, just the sound, so anyway, enjoy it like you do. Lastly, I have much to be thankful for in general, and in spite of the past couple of years of ongoing I love yachting setbacks. Good night and stay tuned for the Thanksgiving week trials.

Today I got a call, about 1530, and it was a funeral home calling to tell me that my very dear friend Don McBride had passed away. I met Don on E dock in the Piney Narrows Yacht Haven marina in the Kent Narrows where I lived on my sailboat CALIX and he had is sailboat COLEMAR. This was 2008. He was an avid sailor. He loved his wife and his Maine Coon cat named Misha. For whatever stars aligned we became friends and enjoyed more than a few gin and tonic/sodas together, a love of jazz and big band, as well as Chicago and a band we saw together with Brad at Ramshead back in 2019, Leonid & Friends. Getting a call like that at work is difficult like you'd imagine, and thanks to the good people there, I made it through the rest of the day and came home to Brad who had a gin and soda ready for me. We sat by the firepit and recalled many a moment with Don. Besides our sailing and music loves, by the way he led a big band way back in the day whereupon he met his wife who was a singer, we remembered his presence for our wedding day, the times he visited down from NJ where he lived, to hang with his boating club, but always stopped by to visit us for at least an overnight so we could gin it into the wee hours. Covid put a damper on in person visits but we all took up Zoom and it ended up being such a beautiful thing. We talked most every weekend with sometimes extended chats when we would put up jazz music videos on YouTube and just listen and comment and have fun. We last did a Zoom this past Sunday 9/27. One of the funniest, best moments, not on the water, but of recent note, was last fall, when Covid had calmed down and Don came for a short visit. His timing was scheduled so he would be here while our good friend Berke - The Cannon Man - was visiting. I will never forget that day, that Sunday, when I asked both gentlemen to assist me with hanging a large flat screen TV. Brad decided this was not his gig and went off to research the history of... something yachty... Hilarity ensued. Berke, being with an engineering background, and Don, have worked with engineers at the fusion lab in Princeton, pretty much had this thing figured out. However, I, being me, had to delve into making sure the mounting was PERFECT. The right spacing above the front speaker, the right height from the viewing chairs, blah blah blah. Between me and Berke, we took one measurement, then re-checked it a 100 times. Don deferred to me and Berke, but he kept us from devolving into chaos. Centimeters, fractions of inches. We shared so many funny moments that day, I feel sometimes like it was yesterday. One of the interesting things about that day was that I made the conscious decision to NOT take any pictures but to remember everything about it in my head, not to make it a post to Twitter, or Instagram, etc. It was too precious, too sincere, just real people together being the best of who they are in a great moment. Berke is visiting during the Annapolis boat shows and arrives in less than a week. Don had reserved a room locally to be here. With heavy heart, Brad called Berke with the news. But Don is remembered for so much fun and joy he brought to the table, mostly the gin. No, just kidding, he also taught me much about music in a classic jazz way - he played horn. I can only imagine his big band days. He did share some pictures during our many Zoom calls, of him water skiing or playing in the band or whatever. He was family to us, Brad and I (and Becket). I could go on but, I miss you already Don, I was so excited you were coming to visit and it may have been your zest for living you wanted to do it but your physical being just wasn't going to agree. Don (and to your family) you will live on with every jazz CD you ever shared, the Chicago and Leonid concerts we planned to go to (tonight Chicago played at the Bloomsburg Fair which we wanted to get to but Covid and tickets messed it up), the Star Clippers sail we were planning on, the visit to the Deer's Head Inn to see Eric Mintel, and so much more. Since no post can be without the theme, I give to you a most uproarious moment... so Don, you remember that "I love yachting" moment when Brad nearly lost his mind because he couldn't get that damn dinghy motor started? He nearly pulled the cord out, almost fell in the water (while in the Kent Narrows - not a place to go swimming), swore enough in those few minutes for most people's lifetime, and entertained us for a good 20 minutes with one simple, frustrating act of dinghy motor non-compliance. I think we laughed for days and well, it's been years and we're still laughing, together...

In an attempt to keep upbeat while winter drearily slogs along, and looking back at better times before Covid, I couldn't help but think of a short story by the late Dave Moss, a.k.a. The Moss-man, which still makes me laugh. A few years ago, during a passage from Annapolis to Bermuda aboard Mark Myers' Swan 51, TONIC, Dave was in (usual) rare form regaling us with his sailing tales. Bear with me, it won't be the same as hearing it from Dave but I'll do my best and here it goes. Years ago, Moss was sailing his boat back to Annapolis from a Block Island Race Week with a young woman as crew, just her and him. They were enjoying a lovely afternoon sail down the Jersey Coast. There were plenty of boat drinks consumed and sunscreen was said to have been required over their entire bodies... Anyway, they make it to the mouth of the Delaware Bay in the early evening, just before sunset, and Moss gets the boat through the entrance of the joyous body of water most sailors love to hate. He puts the boat on a proper course up the channel and by that point it is dark and Dave is pretty spent (from what you can only imagine) so he decides to get some much-needed sleep. Before he heads to bed, the young lady, not an experienced sailor and somewhat unsure of herself, asked Dave what to do. Moss thinks for a minute and then instructs, "It's easy. Just keep the red lights on the right and the greens on the left, and wake me up if you need to" and with that Moss disappeared below. A few hours later, a panicked cry comes from on deck. The young gal hollered, "Dave, I think you better get up here!" Dave cleared the fog from his brain and rushed up to see what the urgency was all about. He looked ahead through the darkness to see that, yep, she had done as instructed and kept the reds on the right and greens on the left. The problem was, the lights weren't the channel lights, but rather the bow lights of a massive outbound container ship bearing rapidly down on them. Moss exclaimed, "Oh shit!"; then grabbed the helm, altered course as quickly as possible, and narrowly averted disaster. After changing his shorts, I'm guessing he cracked a beer and stayed up and on deck for the rest of the night. So when I hear someone giving piloting advice by saying, keep the reds on the right and greens on the left, when inbound, I can't help but think of Good Ole Moss-man. We Miss that guy!

Never mind the tech troubles. The 3 part series is over before I even wrote the second story. Tuesday, 3/12, the Word Daily was "longanimity". I could not help but laugh at that and shared it with Brad while I sat on my yoga ball at my stand-up desk. I balance the time of stand and sit and go through phases of stand or sit, but of late, sit, and was probably best. Last I left you dear reader was with hope. My hope. Maybe your hope. Hope of the universe. Screw the universe and the Martian ship it rode in on. Why? Because when the engine guy texts you to call when you can while the yard has you on the phone and sharing the latest news... OMG, what could possibly be the story after that? However, the engine guy is a hero, he rocks! He did it! He made it happen. That is the good part. This isn't all bad, but the bad is looking pretty bad at the moment. This could be an epic post, in terms of how long I could go on... So I will do my best to distill this from episode 1, through parts 2 and 3, and skip to Tuesday because what I thought I'd write became pointless with the day's news. Mind you I meant to post this almost immediately, but luckily, a couple of glasses of fine red wine had me fumbling around on the keyboard and favorably a few days later the news has brought some hope. Sidebar: my sorority symbol is the anchor. The symbol of hope. You must see the irony, or is that just Alanis Morrisette? Anyway, rewind to three weeks ago Monday, 3/4, after the unsatisfactory outing. There was a follow-up outing that same week on Friday. The engine guy had researched and determined a part that was the issue and got it replaced; a palm-of-your-hand-sized electrical device called the Ignition Control Module, "ICM". The picture is of the good one from the starboard engine. The newer replacement ICM we had on port, while it fit properly, turned out to be the wrong technical replacement, of course. The correct part was ordered and arrived quickly so we went for another afternoon ride. In comparison to Monday, we went FAST. The issue of the engine stop was solved at high speed. Yes, there are more troubles, trials, and tribulations, because, and I can't believe it, the engine has decided to stop at low RPM and even at idle. It was a glorious hour of being on the water until all heck broke loose. I was having the best Zen moment of the combined 2022, 2023, and up to now, 2024 years because I was on the water with the boat in motion. At the end of that Friday, which started with engine man elated and at ease, closed with him being on edge, unhappy, and exasperated. Oh, come on! We fix one thing, we fix another, we fix something else, and it is never ending!!!...!...!!... But again, that got fixed. After calls to multiple companies by a determined engine guru, he went through a slew of technical tests with various devices and checked every single last wire. That led to an uninterrupted (by any engine issue) couple of hours when Spencer, the yard owner (and an artist at driving a very large boat trailer), and the engine guru put the boat through its paces and could not replicate the problem at any level of speed or situation, thus ruled, problem solved. But it didn't stop the s***show of getting CAYUGA back in working water order from going easy. Nothing is easy with an old boat. Something on port has decided to be fussy, perhaps to leak, or it's something that looks like a leak. You read that right. Haha, right, no, this is left (port). We spent all of last summer hostage to the starboard (right) transmission situation. My conversation with the engine man that fateful Tuesday was epic. He is a calm, dispassionate, professional person who said exactly how he really felt. That was a moment. On the other hand, Spencer's voice was a dead giveaway the second he spoke and went to, "How are you doing". So we went from a Monday with the first away from the dock trials and it was amazing until the port engine said NO to FAST and then to a Friday when everyone was feeling good and the port engine said NOPE to SLOW and even NADA to IDLE. Then to a Tuesday, with all the speeds, all the performance, everything everyone has been crossing fingers for to be. But for a new problem. I think I mentioned hope somewhere earlier in this stream of consciousness, hope, i.e. that tricky Elpis (AKA a Greek goddess of hope). I apologize for the limited elaboration as I can't find my Bulfinch's Mythology book, however, I may need to dust off the Oracles of Nostrasdamos to see what he predicted about this mess. But back to Tuesday's call from Spencer followed by my call back to engine man's text, both conversations were so depressing, my heart sank past the center of the earth. It had been a week of March weather akin to early May, and Tuesday was fantastic at just over 70 degrees. Next week we'll probably have snow or a blizzard. So there's an upside? The boat won't sink with 3 feet of heavy spring snow freezing up the bilge pumps. I'll leave you with the fact that I had a massive meltdown that night. I called or texted many people who know of our journey and all were just as depressed but all were very supportive and hopeful we'd get through this latest setback. And Brad has been on the phone ever since with some incredibly knowledgeable and talented people in their field about what could be the cause. Various theories are under discussion and we know an answer is imminent, but just how long it will take scares me. My meltdown even entailed me telling Spencer I was so upset that I had a flashing thought of, "Just put a fucking 'For Sale' sign on it". I regret thinking that, but it's the truth. One last thing, about Elpis, while said to be a minor goddess, she had a relatively starring role in the Pandora's Box story. You know the story and while all the other bad bits escaped, Elpis was trapped inside when the lid was put back and therefore has been a source of debate; was hope actually another evil, and thus we are spared its torment, or was hope truly good and without it we are meant to suffer? Is CAYUGA my Pandora's pithos?

This past Monday night was the third "I love yachting" free outing in a row with the mighty CAYUGA. Thankfully that made for a happy Happy Birthday for me with Holly on the water. As far as the Birthday part, they get treated without huge fanfare at this stage of the game. The thought of having to sign up for Medicare next year only dulls any possible excitement or enjoyment of aging. This year the party was boating with Holly and a stop at the Annapolis Yacht Club, a place that is home away from home for us, for an early dinner. The night was a perfect, humidity-free one here in the Land of Pleasant Living. So, I iced down a few Modelos, fired up the engines, and off we went. We tied up, with Holly getting more comfortable by the day with how the boat handles, and met our longtime friend Gerard at the Club’s Burgee Bar. There we enjoyed a relaxing, casual dinner and before sunset, we departed to head back to Whitehall Creek. On the way out of the Annapolis Harbor, we spotted a friend and fellow Club member, Rick, in his classic Whaler. I hailed him and asked if he’d take a photo of CAYUGA. He did and emailed them over for which I am grateful. This is my favorite of the bunch. I love that proud ensign flying so beautifully - future post about flags... We got back to the dock and poured a glass of wine to have with my birthday cake which was a take-out blackberry cobbler (sans candles). Delicious! It was a perfect end to a wonderful birthday with Holly and CAYUGA.