Land Locked! - Day 13 of 15

Well this has gone smooth...Not!

Coming down from Red Bluff on the Amtrak Hound Express bus (I had visions of snoozing in a sleeper car the whole trip, naïve me!) We were informed in Sacramento, that we would still be transferring to a train, but its departure time was a special secret; not to be divulged to common folk like us who aren’t not quite smart enough to grasp the oh so difficult complexities of intricate choo- choo scheduling. Fortunately the news on the black and white T.V. screen mounted for the pleasure of the Ticket Counter Personnel shed a little light on the subject by announcing the exclusive live breaking commentary on the bursting of a San Francisco Levy, taking out a Railroad bridge, and (Amtrak?) communication lines necessary for Michael to complete his journey...serious danger...lives are at stake... stay tuned for news at eleven!

Well it only took me 23 hours to get to downtown San Diego. No worries getting into the Yacht Club now. In fact when I showed up, there were literally thousands of people milling around, this is the weekend of the locally renowned Wheelchair Regatta! (How apropos) I had to spend the rest of the day fending off the advances of young Marine Corps Cadets trying to escort me onto a boat, any boat for my 'special' ride, and little old women telling me if I want to ride on a boat I have to get in line like all the rest of the special people. I stopped at the front desk, asked for my boat key, and upon receiving it made a mad dash for my slip to hide out for the remainder of the day.
Well after negotiating my way through the herd (I suppose school or bait ball would be a more nautical term) of maritime do-gooders, I flung back the canvas cover from the helm of my precious new boat to take my first peek at... nothing. No holes drilled, no loose wires dangling, no mount brackets, no antennas, no radar, no GPS, no TV!

What a rewarding end to a very grueling day, at least I was grateful to have made it to Shelter Island at all. I set up housekeeping and spent a quiet night alone with my new beauty. I have to say the lull of the harbor with its soft lights and gentle tides makes for some cozy sleepy time.

Yesterday I had a few choice words with Butt-Crack Bruce who, true to form offered up a weak excuse; that when we spoke on the phone his worker was at the Marina to do all the work, but the desk clerk insisted that there was no key for the Grumpy Bear anywhere behind the counter or in the office.

at that point I knew I had Butt-Crack now (ha-ha) and I lashed out over the phone saying that I was in San Diego this very minute. ThatI had been at the Yacht Club a full day and when I walked up to the desk and asked for my key amidst chaos and hundreds of very busy people, that key was immediately dispatched to me without hesitation, thought or any unnecessary search of the surrounding area. Bruce (or BC as his fellow employess call him behind his well proportioned backside) was flummoxed, and stammered a sincere sounding apology and promised to have someone on the boat within the hour. I told him there was no need to pick up a key, that I would personally escort the gent to my boat.

As I was waiting for the service guy to approach me, I contemplated the type of service I would now likely receive. A clerk was opening up the small office behind the reception desk and setting up for business. She smiled at me and said "You're Michael aren't you? the guy that bought Grumpy Bear. I thought so, look I am really sorry about that serviceman the other day, you know we always keep our keys on the bulletin board, I never thought to look in the desk drawer. We tried to get the gentleman back, but it was too late..."

I thought to myself, I wonder how far out of the harbor will I get before my boat begins to sink...

The repair guy shows up.

A rhetorical question: Can Billy Gibbons be reincarnated if he isn’t even dead yet? I swear the installation guy was the spitting image of ZZ Top's Lead Singer just as he looked in say 1970. A real flashback for me, lol. He even had a southern Texas drawl. (do you think maybe ol' Gib's left a few illegitimates scattered around the countryside?)

As it turned out the serviceman was quite congenial, happy and easy going, perhaps too happy; he just might be a bit of a man’s man, batting for the other team if you know what i mean (I don't know why I say that, maybe it was the pink and yellow deck shoes). And I am certain he did not sabotage anything 'cause I watched him from a safe distance like a hawk during the entire installation procedure. All went well and we held a amenable cordiality. He even invited me out to a BBQ dinner as he was finishing up to which I politely declined as it totally creeped me out. Also I had a lot of preparation ahead of me to outfit my boat for the big cruise.

Another day or two and I’m out of here.