I get by with a little help from my friends.

(Back dated to November 26)

We are still in Norman’s Cay. We spent a whole week in Norman’s Cay. Thanksgiving dinner was superbly cooked and executed – the spread was one from a magazine from the country ham that Nancy brought from Kentucky, to the hors d'oeuvres of walnut and blue cheese covered grapes, to the champagne Kingsley flew in from Nassau (who also picked up our tab for the night), and finally the sweet potato pie. There were a few boaters there, but mostly it was the island’s residents and different staffs. On Thanksgiving we made the rounds – meeting MacDuff’s owners Stephan and Beth and Chris and Celeste. As well as John, Molly, JP, and Roxie all who work there. There were also Steve and Wanna and their son Connor and nephew Jason, who are basically the only permanent residents on the island.

After the amazing meal the winds change and we get hit with buckets of rain, the next morning it is the same so at 6 am we run up to cleat off the anchor chain. We are still short a dinghy engine so we are confined to our boat. A neighbor, a 1938 Sparkman’s Stevens named Zephyr, comes over for supper bringing fresh made conch chowder and we discuss our dinghy fiasco. Casey, from Zephyr, spends the whole next day working with Dad on the dinghy engine problem –

cleaning the entire carbie and educating us on the concept that ethanol in the gas reeks havoc on a dinghy engine and the spark plugs. After hours of searching through our boat we finally find the spark plugs (we also had Kingsley fly us some in from Nassau). Finally, our luck has changed and I spend the day exploring the caves, vast roadways, and elaborate mansions that cover this historic drug den of an island.

With our changed luck comes the football Sabbath, a day of rest and love and the winning Minnesota Vikings – unfortunately this is incredibly wishful thinking. On my Sunday Sabbath Football Fun Day, I notice that the wind and depth meters are flipping – like the breaker is not holding. After lots of fuming around we realize that (via a battery test) we had somehow managed to drain all of our batteries. The main bank of four 6 volt batteries and the 12 volt starting battery were all dead and without these we can’t leave, we can’t move, and in the worse case if the anchor gives way there is no way to save us from running aground. We hope that if we turn everything off and let the solar panel take over it will charge the batteries. With that start to Sunday Funday we watch the game at Norman’s Cay Yacht Club at 4pm (which is strange since it is a noon game at home).

Ahh… Vikings football – I am able to spend time in my own little world that is free of the questions – What are you going to do with the rest of your life? Did you snub the anchor? How do you tie a Bowline knot? Instead it is just football – sweet, pure football. I feel bad for Bernard Berrian as I know he is a great receiver, but Sidney Rice is just performing too well (I think we all want to see Mr. Rice get a superbowl ring before Mr. Moss). I also appreciate the fact that even though Shiancoe’s touchdown was repealed he just did a replay and made another one – how tenacious! Even though A.P. can’t seem to keep his hands on the ball, my boy, J. Allen, makes an awesome play with an almost interception… how beautiful. We spend time bonding with some uber-rich French Canadians on a million dollar catamaran called Quasar and I spend the night in one of the yacht club’s cabins as Roxy has offered me a big bed and a fresh water shower – oh Sunday Football days can be so sweet.

Unfortunately everything comes with a downside. The solar panels have done nothing for the batteries and we are still sitting Shiva on a ticking time bomb.

Final Picture: as I mentioned on my Facebook something crazy happened - well in this picture for your consideration you will see a million dollar catamaran behind my boat - that is where something crazy happened. But also important in this picture is the courtesy flag that I made out of construction paper at MacDuffs bar during the football game - drunk artistic skills at its peak!