I don't quite know how it happened but when we left Georgetown at 7 am, we suddenly ended up in a little flotilla of five boats. Awfully nice to be part of the herd and have someone you can follow without even looking at the charts... But after a couple of hours the fleet dispersed and we took a turn off the ICW at mile 448 into Price Creek - and found the loveliest anchorage ever. Since the currents were pretty strong (we were right at the inlet), we picked one of the deserted mooring balls close to the beach. It was quite obvious they hadn't been used in a while: the lines were totally covered with seaweed and barnacles. Of course I found out about the barnacles only when I pulled in the line and they bit my fingers. Cirripedic assholes. That hurt! I was really thinking about cutting the line of the cleat, boiling it and turning the little suckers into a nice juicy clam chowder. Look at this:
Ouch! Probably those crustacea are just sick of being eating and are waiting for an opportunity to pay us back. I don't care. I wanted them to suffer. So I humiliated them by strictly ignoring the pain, making faces at them - and showing them the finger. Haha, I win! Marine lowlives.
(Don't get me wrong: I love seafood. As long as it behaves like food!)
Ouch! Probably those crustacea are just sick of being eating and are waiting for an opportunity to pay us back. I don't care. I wanted them to suffer. So I humiliated them by strictly ignoring the pain, making faces at them - and showing them the finger. Haha, I win! Marine lowlives.
(Don't get me wrong: I love seafood. As long as it behaves like food!)
No comments:
Post a Comment