Friday the Thirteenth

Normally, I stare straight at Friday the 13th and spit in its eye, but after yesterday, I'm gathering lucky pennies and four-leaf clovers and throwing salt over my shoulder next time one rolls around. Here's what happened:

Back in 2000, when things were rolling along nicely at our company, we splurged and bought a 1978 sport fishing boat. We named her Coatimundi after a reggae song we liked. Here she is:



The boat has about 200 SF on it. There is a salon/galley combination, a V-berth that sleeps two, a small bathroom with a toilet and a shower. We have used this little sweet boat so much. But lately with all that has been going on with my dad, we haven't been down much.

This weekend we decided to go, take the boat over to Bald Head Island, and have a little R&R. Time spent on the boat is time spent forgetting your troubles. So we packed food, clothes, linens from our last trip, books, videos, unread newspapers and left around 3:00.

When we opened the door to the boat, we realized that the AC wasn't working. The boat was hot and stale smelling. We decided to head on over to BHI and work on the boat there. When we disconnected the power cord, it was black like it had been burned. Not good.

The boat was shimmying and shaking on the way over and we figured the props were covered with barnacles from the boat sitting so long. We called the diver to come clean them. Easy fix.

At the BHI slip, we couldn't get the power to come on. We called the marina; no answer. Called the ferry terminal and they said they'd send over a supervisor. We were hot and getting grouchy and when he didn't show up after thirty minutes, we decided to head back to the home port. So we disconnected and untied and took off.

Once we were re-settled at the dock, we couldn't find the toolbox. Now remember, this is a space of around 200 SF and the toolbox is 2' x 3' at least, but it was nowhere to be found. So at 10:30 we headed over to WalMart and bought tools. I talked my husband into letting me buy a fan; he's always saying I'm going to sink the boat with all the things I bring aboard!

Back at the boat, my husband crawled into the engine room, which is about three feet tall. He has to be a contortionist to get into it, and I couldn't get in if the Yankees were coming. He got the AC running, but only warmish air was coming out. We waited, wiping sweat and swatting mosquitoes, but the air never got cool.

Around midnight, we realized that the AC wasn't going to work, and that without AC there wasn't going to be any R&R on the Coatimundi, so we packed food, bags, books, newspapers, DVDs, sweaty clothes and wet shoes into our air-conditioned car and headed home.

We arrived at 3 a.m., exhausted. Our cats were very confused. Audrey thought we were getting up for the day and stood at the door wanting to go out. Chippy followed us around meowing loudly as only a deaf cat can, ready for breakfast. We ignored them both, took our showers and fell into bed.

The good news is that it can all be fixed. The bad news? Have you ever paid to fix a boat? But I love that little vessel, and I'll forgive her one more time.