At 5:56 AM the sun unceremoniously rose somewhere behind a dark cloak of storm clouds. It wont set again until 8:22 PM giving me nearly 15 grey hours to contemplate our current location, up shit creek without a paddle.
Every-time we leave the dock its like the great escape. Contrary currents and wind don’t make a good combination when your engine hates you. It is the most consistent engine I have ever seen always stalling as soon as we are exactly half way out of the guest docks. Sookie is small and manageable but still has a long keel and doesn’t like to do anything as much as she likes to go straight foreward.
I crawl back into our tiny cabin and retreat from the world, I’ve lost all confidence in this mechanical beast, the bane of my existence. Mechanical aids are suppose to serve man, to make our lives easier but they don’t, they make us slaves. So I have become a servant to convenience although I can’t think of a single convenience our little outboard offers us.
I can build and rebuild boats of any size shape or design, I can wire a boat, rig a boat, sew sails, install plumbing, paint varnish hammer and screw. When it comes to internal combustion my eyes glaze over and everything turns Chinese. Im missing my warped Yuloh but the design never fit on our tiny boat, a sculling oar would but I doubt I can make one with my Swiss Army knife in our time frame. June 21 is right around the corner, a rude reminder that winter is on the way and I am still here.
Some men wish to be rich, others powerful. I wish I was Larry Pardey. From the log of Sookie somewhere up shit creek without a paddle.