Dear Group,

It sure takes a sorry bunch of losers and lamers to spend so
much of their time posting here when they could be sailing. I
can understand how those who have no boats and sail vicariously
through those of us who do have boats are caught in this insidious
trap but I just can't figure out why those who DO have boats
forsake sailing them in lieu of blathering inanities here.

Instead of pontificating in this forum about how great one's boat
is on paper compared to others' boats and trying to justify yet
another uninformed purchase, would it not be better to be out sailing
said vessel to ascertain her strong and weak points so the weak can
be corrected and the strong appreciated?

It is ever a sad state of affairs when those who pretend lead around
by the nose those who cannot recognize a pretender, is it not? Sorry
guys, but I, Capt. Neal, am intelligent enough to not fall prey to such
nonsense. I'd rather be sailing.

My latest sail consisted of a rowdy broad reach up to the Little
Shark River in the Everglades to ride out Hurricane Wilma. "Cut
the Mustard" and two other vessels ("Harbinger" - an Atlantic
City Cat 24 and "Breakin' Wind" - an Irwin 32 center cockpit)
sailed up from the Keys the Wednesday prior to the storm's landfall.
We arrived with a couple of days to spare before Wilma (who hung
around the Yucatan for days) made landfall on the peninsular. We
sought safe harbor way up a Shark River tributary and on a side
creek of that tributary where the mangrove's grow higher than
anywhere else in the USA. Imaging fifty and sixty foot tall, thick
groves of mangroves. That's where we sheltered. We tied up to the
mangroves on either side of the little side creek. Luckily, the mosquitoes
were nowhere to be seen but, unfortunately, the no-see-ums were
thicker than lies in a Bobsprit post.

We experienced the core of the hurricane and the south eye wall
with sustained winds of well over 120 knots and higher gusts (Joe,
put me down for riding out without a scratch yet another storm!).
Have any of you ever experienced 'rain' consisting of crushed and
shredded leaves? That's what we had. The lush tropical forest
canopy was turned to brown and broken branches by the time the
storm had passed - a period of about 10-12 hours.

Interestingly, we had a two or three knot current sideways to the
creek when the fifteen foot storm surge rolled in. All three boats
came through without a scratch or breakage of any sort. It took me
three hours, though, to clean all the bits and pieces of leaves and
sticks from my boat. Luckily I had plenty of bleach to counteract
the tannic acid from the leaves which had stained my light green
nonskid brown and my white paint on the deck yellow/brown. Yuck!
But a little elbow grease was all it took to get things shipshape again.

We three single-handers enjoyed the storm and the company of real
sailors and even had plenty of rum and ice too keep us in good
cheer. We enjoyed an abundance of good food and music and tall
tales.

After the storm passed we waited a day for the storm surge to
subside and the river current to free itself somewhat of flotsam
and headed back downriver. We sailed out of the mouth of the
river just as a Coast Guard helicopter passed overhead. They had
'spotted' all seven or eight vessels that had sought refuge up
the river prior to the storm and had returned to make sure
all was well. I can imagine the crew looking down and thinking
to themselves, "Now, there's three "real" sailors down there!
If all sailors were like them we'd be out of a job."

The wind was very light out of the northwest as we ghosted
down the Gulf Coast toward East Cape and the yacht channel to
the south. We ran out of daylight near Schooner Bank and anchored
in its lee in a freshening northeast wind. The wind built during
the night and the next day we enjoyed a screaming reach down
to the yacht channel markers and Intracoastal Waterway. I sailed
all the way to Steamboat Channel and put the Irwin and the
catboat hull down. From Steamboat Channel it was a motor
job up to the anchorage off the "OV" - that's short for the
Ocean View Bar and Grill (which sits on the bayside - go figure) -
where we went ashore for a cheeseburger in paradise. The skipper
of the "Breakin' Wind" is a real ladies man and sort of a local
legend and he had several women all over him so Catboat Jim and
I had plenty of attention as well dealing with the overflow.

A good boat, a fresh breeze and a woman in every port - it doesn't
get any better than that. . .

So, let this be a lesson to all of you who think sailing is nothing
more than a pack of lies and bull**** on a sailing newsgroup. Get
out there and go sailing. Even a hurricane offers us real sailors an
opportunity to DO instead of imagining doing. How many of
you reading this can claim over a hundred and twenty miles
of sailing in the path of a hurricane and are able to look back
on it as some of the best days of your life?

No response? I figured as much.

Respectfully,
Capt. Neal
~~~~~~~~~~~~~