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A different kind of trip report

Discussion in 'Balboa Park' started by sdbound, Aug 24, 2007.

  1. sdbound

    sdbound Well-Known Member

    Jul 21, 2006

    This is a trip report from my college roommate (1979-81)and best friend who joined us in the BVI last June.

    Day 1
    Long, uneventful plane ride—except that I lost my favorite knife (damn those lottery scratchers). While standing in line to go through the metal detector, I noticed that people were taking off their shoes before going through. I explained to security that it would be a terrorist act for me to remove my shoes; of course, he did not find this amusing. Well, at least I assumed that, because all he said was, “ARRRRRGH!” We went through Dallas and then reached lovely San Juan, Puerto Rico, where we waited to board a smaller plane to take us to Beef Island, Tortola, when over the loud speaker we hear, “American Eagle is sorry for the inconvenience, but there seems to be a mechanical problem, and your plane will be delayed twenty minutes.” Since I, first mate, “The Rogue,” happened to be an aircraft mechanic before my stint as first mate, I was absolutely sure that there was nothing to be worried about. I was scared out of my socks. An aircraft mechanic can’t tie his shoes in twenty minutes--much less repair an airplane. We boarded. We took off. I prayed. We landed, and I kissed the ground.
    We made it through customs without losing too much of our total body water content and were greeted by the one and only Captain John (The One-Eyed-Fat-Man) and his cabin slave Amanda. Captain John was a site to behold, his eye patch askew and his pants on backwards. This would shock any mortal man, but I knew that was just his way of telling me he almost forgot to pick us up.
    We proceeded to board the beautiful and luxurious HMS Beenie. The Beenie? That’s a name for a manly vessel, I thought to myself…...Oh! Did I say that aloud? I guess I should have worn my pink thong. Well, not feeling too emasculated by the name of the mighty ship, I boarded. The wench Amanda proceeded to show us our cabin and the many amenities of the Beenie. “Time to make our way!” shouted Captain John and with a wave of his hand and a mighty Hi-Ho Silver, he proceeded to suck the dinghy rope into the prop. “Holy Crap!” said Captain John, "I think I have fouled the prop!"
    "No [censored]!” I said as eloquently as possible. "The damn dinghy is half way under the boat.”
    Captain John came quickly down from the cockpit to survey the damage and bark out his orders. “GET A KNIFE, A SURRATED KNIFE, I WILL CUT IT LOOSE MYSELF!” After a half an hour and some serious heckling from the boat next to us, I was allowed to enter the briny sea and we were loose. “Well you know, I had already loosened it for you,” said Captain John in the sternest of voices.
    Again, we were off. As we left the bay, Captain John hoisted the sails, first the jib and then the main. The flapping of the sails and the sound of stretching rope filled the air and abruptly, RIIIIIP. “Holy Crap!” Captain John cried out. Yes, there was a small 3-foot tear in the main sail. Unknown to me at the time, we would never actually need the main sail for this excursion, so I was a bit concerned. Captain John was not fazed in the slightest and we motored on to Cooper Island and made our bed. As I lie in bed, I wondered how far Captain John would go to impress me.

    Day 2
    I was told of the stunning sunrise and the calming sea of the British Virgin Islands, so as I awoke from a somewhat turbulent sleep. I thought I had been dreaming. I thought to myself, I must still be dreaming. But no, bouncing completely off the bed did actually wake me up. I threw open the sash and what in my wondering eyes did appear, a red little sleigh and seven tiny reindeer, and a cow and house……aunty Em…..aunty Em, where is Toto? Yes, we were in a storm that has not been seen in these parts for years. After some manly sea stories from Captain John, and after I was able to revive the wenches from there attack of sheer boredom, we boarded the dinghy and made way for the day’s dive excursion. Captain John and the wenches were to learn to dive this day. I, being of sound mind and body and an ear canal of a two year old, was unable to take part. I was, however, able to laugh uncontrollably at the site of Captain John taking orders from a wench. The fact that monsoon season was not yet over warranted splitting the dive into two sessions and arrangements were made for that.
    The weather broke and we made our way to Soper’s Hole to gather provisions. After trading our wares, we set off for Jost Van ****. Upon leaving Soper’s Hole, Captain John turned off the engine, raised the main sail and the wind died. So far, we may have actually sailed for a whole twenty minutes total. Captain John, wise man of the sea, fired up the engines and preceded to Jost Van ****. But there our day’s wonderful adventure does not end.
    Day 3
    It looks like God didn’t think the ocean was quite full enough, and neither was our dinghy. The rain is coming down in sheets allowing us to find all of the leaks the ship had to offer. This of course brought new meaning to “sleeping in the wet spot.”
    After swimming out of my cabin, I looked around and suddenly noticed we were not exactly in the same spot we anchored. Hark, a flashback several hours earlier, a strange grinding noise coming seemingly from the bow, the bou, the boew, well crap, the front of the boat. At the time, I thought it might be Captain John grinding his teeth, but as the sun rose, I realized that the grinding noise was the anchor playfully skipping across the bottom of the ocean. “Captain John,” I hailed, “I think we can board her and pillage the women and **** the supplies.” As he looked towards me, he also noticed that we had drifted dangerously close to “HMS Breaking Wind” a smaller yet formidable looking vessel.
    “HOLY CRAP!” He was well known for saying holy crap, even when it was not necessary. “NO, you can’t board her, she has a “Do Not Board” sign right there in plane sight. Upon that utterance and with sloth-like reflexes, Captain John bolted to the helm and quickly started the engines, and we were once again saved from imminent peril.
    The rain had turned to a light drizzle, or maybe I should have went aft to pee. We motored around to the next cove, because sailing a sailboat would be ludicrous, and dropped anchor in White Bay. “The Soggy Dollar,” Captain John exclaimed, they will take wet money.
    “No duh, Captain dumb [censored].” It’s a pet name I call him, and one of my more witty statements.
    We walked the beautiful beach and went and had some grub—kind of like a really sick Eddy’s Father thing.
    Back aboard the Beenie, the wenches were busy doing whatever wenches do, and, time being a factor; we motored (because sailing a sailboat is not cool) to Sandy Spit to get lovely pictures of me leaning on a palm tree holding myself. We had arranged to go scuba diving off Cooper Island so we motored on. Captain John and the wenches Dawn and Amanda were getting hungry so we decide to have lunch at Manchioneel Bay where the dive was to start.
    Upon arriving, we moored the boat and mounted the dinghy. As we pulled up to the dock, I (The Rogue) stepped gracefully from the dinghy to the dock. The wind suddenly shifted, which had nothing to do with what happened next. It seems that after a six-pack of domestic grog, balance becomes irrelevant. All at once, I felt myself returning to the dingy, however now I seemed to be horizontal. I had to make a split decision, fall into the water, or fall into the water; I couldn’t make up my mind so gravity did it for me. As I fell, I was able to position myself to bounce off a neighboring dinghy and glide effortlessly into the salty sea. Actually, it looked more like a drunk falling in a pool. From that time, the first mate, Roger the Rogue, will be affectionately referred to as “Dinghy Boy.”
    Some time later, Captain John and the wench Dawn were able to dive on the sunken ship “The Rhone” and all was good.
    Later that night, food was eaten and grog was consumed…Dinghy Boy was an [censored] and the world was right.
  2. sdbound

    sdbound Well-Known Member

    Jul 21, 2006

    Day 4
    I awoke this glorious day to a mysterious beam of light peaking through our cabin window. I hurried to dress and go on deck. I saw Captain John doing his morning captain stuff, checking the rigging, securing the dinghy and making his first White Russian of the day. “Captain John” I shouted, “What is this strange light I see?”
    “Don’t be afraid, boy," said the Captain, “It is the sun. I’m sure it will be gone soon.” Captain John is usually never wrong or at least he will never admit it, as the wench Amanda said that it happens quite often.
    On this day, he was mistaken. The sun was here to stay, and it warmed me to the bone. Burnt through several layers of skin to get there, but it was still a wonderful day. The night before we had docked at Hodge’s Creek Marina and had food and grog at Fat Hog Bob’s. So this day I was ready to sail.
    “Where to today Captain?” I shouted.
    “Stop shouting!” snapped the Captain, “I’m standing right next to you, ya' idgit.” “Anageda,” and then he proceeded to tell me all about the dangerous reef, the many shipwrecks, and yada, yada, yada….bla, bla, bla, let’s just go already. Well it seems the ship needed some minor repairs caused, I’m sure, by the hurricane, and we would be able to get underway in about twenty minutes. I thought it strange that we were able to eat, visit Road Town, knit a sweater, and read War and Peace in twenty minutes. It was then that I found out that one BVI minute is equal to fifteen California minutes because five hours later, we left the harbor. I need a new watch. Our first day of glorious weather and we were tied to the end of a dock. Captain knows best, I guess.
    At last, we are ready to go. Captain John was able to complete some masochistic dock departing ritual by smashing his finger in the electrical box, and we were underway. We were to sail (and I use that term lightly) to Cane Garden Bay. “But the sun will set in five minutes (that’s three hours in landlubber time),” I said to the Captain. “BAAAAAAA!” he said. He says that when he’s got gas. As the Captain raised the sails, of course, the wind died, and the engines were again our savior. As we made or way to Cane Garden Bay, I was told of the infamous Full Moon Party at Bomba’s Shack—a gathering of epic proportion. It was a mildly amusing story, as Captain John is only a mildly amusing storyteller. Actually, unless it’s about his imaginary tales of wench conquering, he is quite tiresome.
    We pulled into the bay as the sunset slowly over Jost Van ****—dinner at Quito’s then on to Bomba’s Shack. The moon was full and the people were plenty. Now Captain John can say to his cronies, “I have been to the full moon party at Bomba’s!” in a full and courageous voice. Nobody will care, but what the hell; Captain John is a legend in his own mind.
    Day 5
    The big ball of fire in the sky once again graced us with its presence. I smelled a good day on the horizon, or that could be wench Dawn feeling amorous. Captain John was at the helm early this fine day and I brought him his morning coffee. “Take this back and do it right!” Captain John roared, “You know I like my coffee black you moron, black like I like my…...Oh, hi my lovely cabin maid Amanda. Just leave us Dinghy Boy and swab the decks while you’re at it.”
    The site of The Baths left me speechless. That and I was choking on my first beer of the day. We were able to find the last mooring ball available and made our way to the beach. We disembarked the dinghy while Captain John barked orders as if he was dropping off soldiers at Normandy Beach on D-Day. Why? I have not a clue, could be an Oedipus complex.
    The Baths were beautiful, and I foolishly thought there was going to be some snorkeling in our future. But nooooooo. “We must eat,” said Captain John, sucking air from a 10-foot swim from the dinghy to shore, as if he just ran the Boston Marathon. The trail to the top of the Baths was magnificent. Winding and climbing over, under, and around large rocks, through caverns and up a long sandy trail.
    “Did I say up a long sandy trail?”
    “Yes, you did say long sandy trail.”
    Well, let me put this into perspective. I mean UP and UP and LIZARD! UP and UP and SNAKE! UP and UP and I need oxygen!
    “Cars, I see cars,” coughed wench Amanda. Yes, signs of human life forms, and a pool too. We partook of the pools cleansing coolness, laughed, and made merriment.
    After lunch, we started back down the hill. Immediately I could sense distress in Captain John’s eyes. “MY FEET ARE ON FIRE! MY FEET ARE ON FIRE! AAAAAAAAAH!” Captain John cried.
    “Are you alright my love?" asked wench Amanda.
    “Of course I’m not alright, you, you beautiful spring flower. I am Captain John and I am in distress” My suspicions were confirmed, Captain John was in distress. “Shoes I need shoes,” squealed Captain John, “Where is an outlet store when you need one.” As luck would have it, Captain John was standing two feet and a wooden door away from the sandals of his dreams. He stepped inside with fervor. “How much for the sandals?" Captain John rumbles.
    “Fifty dollars,” said the shy shopkeeper.
    “I will pay fifteen dollars you wench,” barked Captain John.
    “Your feet will burn like walking in the devil’s oven, you pompous blowhard,” said the soft-spoken shopkeeper.
    “Okay, fifty it is,” said Captain John. As we left the store, I could hear Captain John mumble, “She is lucky I left my sword in my other pants.”
    We made our way back to the beach and I was sent to retrieve the dinghy. I swam out to what looked liked a gaggle of dinghies. Is it a gaggle or a swarm? No, maybe a pack, I don’t know, I will ask Captain John when I get back. I found our dinghy, but it was locked. 3-4-0-7? No, 3-7-0-4? No, 3-7-4-0? NO! I signaled to shore in sign language, as to be inconspicuous-- what’s the code?
    Captain John waved back, made some other obscene gestures with his hands, and laughed like he just heard Wayne Newton make a funny (he loves Wayne Newton). I threw up my hand with the lock in it and screamed, “What is the flippen code, dumb [censored]?”
    Captain John put up his hand and started to hand signal the code to me. As I watched Captain John, I heard Joe dinghy captain next to me yell out “ONE, TWO, FOUR, FIVE!” Very good Captain John, now not only did I know the code, so did most of the people in CHINA.
    Back on board the Beenie, we started our sail; I mean motor, to Laverick Bay. It was a beautiful evening. Good food, good drink, and good company. Yes, good company, Captain John stayed on the boat.

    Day 6
    Our journey ended as it began, in the rain. However, this day was filled with both joy and sorrow, as this was the final day of our adventure with Captain John and his beautiful cabin maid Amanda. There was joy in knowing that soon I would be kissing, hugging, and sharing this wonderful adventure with the two small pirates I have left at home, and the sorrow of saying goodbye to the two most wonderful people on the seven seas. Captain John and Amanda showed me places of such breathtaking beauty that most people only see in pictures, and they bestowed upon me a memory that will last the rest of my life.
    Our airplane was to depart at 2130 GMT, approximately 7 hours from now, and I knew that Captain John would say something stupid; to try to make us laugh to help dry the tears that I was sure would fall. But that is Captain John. A good man and, I am proud to say, my best friend.
    Thank ye Captain John and Amanda for once again making my life a full and better one, for being who you are, and for allowing us to share this experience with you. We love you.

    Your friend and brother,
    Dinghy Boy
  3. super_deluxe

    super_deluxe World Class

    Jul 24, 2007
    What is this all about? Were you the narrator?
    • Like Like x 1
  4. sdbound

    sdbound Well-Known Member

    Jul 21, 2006
    No, I'm Captain John.:icon_eek:

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