What we didn't tell you...

In October, just before we left for New Zealand, we brought Aquila home. Everything worked fine, and the trip was utterly uneventful. Except for getting 'blown' up on that log.

Just a mile down the ICW below where we hit the "LOG" that ruined our prop. rudder and strut is a bridge. After we left the Atlantic Yacht Basin, we motored up to the bridge, and took our place in line behind a power boat and in front of two mega yachts. The bridge tender called to us on Channel 13 (is there information in this number?) to tell us he had commercial traffic coming through and we needed to keep clear. In regular language, this means a barge gets to come through the bridge FIRST after it opens and we peons need to stay out of it's way. We dutifully headed to starboard as far as we were comfortable, which was just inside a pile of logs with a small tree growing out of it.

The barge came through at full speed, putting up quite a wake, which lifted Aquila and pushed her to starboard, and, you guessed it, right on the pile of logs. Damn.

Always aware Captain Bob carefully put her in reverse, and carefully revved the engine, backing Aquila up. Of course, as the barge was RIGHT BEHIND US, he was backing right in to a speeding (well maybe 10 knots!) barge. The barge honked, the other boats looked confused, and Bob backed in a complete circle, forcing his way back in line to get through that blasted bridge.

Many hours of motoring later, we arrived at our campsite, or anchorage, for the night, just south of the end of the Albemarle-Pungo Canal. We joined several other boats, both power and sail, just as the sun was setting.

As I was cleaning up after dinner, Bob said "You gotta see this."

I came up to the cockpit, and he pointed at another recent arrival. I squinted, but couldn't see anything. "Should I get the binoculars?" I asked in my normal voice, not quite understanding the need for secrecy.

"NO. SHHHH." He pointed again toward the man sunbathing on his foredeck. "He's naked."

All the more reason, I thought, to get out the binoculars.