The Lunatic

It drives me nuts when people say "tough road to hoe". It's "tough ROW to hoe". When someone botches this saying, it's clear they've never used a hoe and have no clue what would make a row tough or easy to hoe. (Although I do imagine them hoeing a road. That makes me chuckle.)

That's what happens in a (sub)urban culture. People lose touch with the roots of a saying. It amuses me when I'm able to use these sayings in their original literal sense. Back when I did the farming thing, I literally hoed some tough rows. Now that I'm doing the sailing thing, I've used some figurative expressions in their literal sense. (Although none are coming to mind now. I'll come back later and edit in a couple when I remember them.)

But anyway, yesterday I didn't get as far down the road as I wanted. It was very windy. I got to a spot where I had to go several miles straight into the wind. I went a few hundred yards along this length of the ICW, decided it wasn't worth the trouble, and turned back to a nice anchorage I had just passed.

Tired from all the wind and waves, I went to sleep early. I also woke early. Usually when this happens, I make myself go back to bed. I can usually fall asleep and wake at a reasonable hour.

But last night when I awoke, the wind was calm, the tide in my favor, and the moon shining. I decided to weigh anchor. (Weather reports were for another windy day today, and I had a ways to go to Charleston.)

I've never done the ICW at night before. I've seen tugboats do it. I don't know how. About half the daymarks were lit with flashing lights which helped. But half weren't. I almost ran over a couple. Also, watermen love to set their crab traps in the channel. Somehow I avoided entangling my prop in a crab line.

At one point I was lost. The handheld gps has preloaded maps, but they aren't very detailed. When on the ICW, it often looks like the boat is on land. This was one of the few times the little NautiG program was actually useful, and not just an amusement. It quickly got me back on track.

The moon set before dawn and for awhile it was just me, the boat and the stars. Fortunately soon after, I was in a ditch. The dark outline of the shore was visible yards away on either side. Hard to get lost in a ditch.

When I originally set off under the moon and stars last night, another boat was anchored yards away. I tried to be as quiet as possible, but I was still plenty noisy with the anchor chain clanging and the engine running. I thought I might have heard the folks in the other boat cursing the lunatic in the catamaran. I couldn't blame them. That's what I literally was.