CHAPTER THIRTY THREE: THIS SIDE OF DELIVERANCE

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE:  THIS SIDE OF DELIVERANCE

If you’re from the South, please go on to the next Blog. With the dueling banjos playing in my head much of the day, I mentally scrolled through the Ned Beatty “squeal like a pig” scene from “Deliverance”. That scene made me very upset the first time I saw it, and somewhat surprisingly, as I recalled it from my memory, it still made me shake a little. Why does that ugly scene come back to haunt me now? Was it the confederate flag on the back of the motor boat we saw go past Coinjock Marina in Coinjock, North Carolina? Was it just that we entered North Carolina yesterday, and yes, there were hush puppies at the Coinjock Restaurant last night? Was it the lilting Southern accents at the next table? Was it the marshlands and woods we passed most of the day on the North Landing River, heading to Alligator River Marina? Or is it the remoteness of Alligator River Marina that starts the banjoes playing?

I’ve been away too long. There is nothing to fear in the New South, in the land of Duke and UNC and – ALLIGATOR RIVER!!! I had to take a break to get my clothes out of the 75 cents dryer about a quarter mile away, in the dark, on the dock next to and over the ALLIGATOR RIVER! They don’t call it that because it’s full of cuddly porpoises. So I armed myself with a very heavy flashlight – not really up for a mano a mano with a six foot alligator, but since I can’t outrun it, I needed the confidence that this flashlight gave me to get to the dryer and back. Why was it that every sound on the way and back was like an alligator climbing out of the river on to the nearby rocks, or slithering under the dock to grab my leg, as I passed by? As it turns out, I was not attacked by an alligator. And just as bad, the 75 cents dryer, which I thought was a great deal, did not dry my clothes. Fortunately, we have a dryer on board, so I carried the damp clothes back, with my flashlight ready to defend me – and with the added confidence that I could throw the clothes at the alligator, smothering it in soggy underwear and socks. Oh yes, woman warrior, up to the challenge.

Apart from the “Deliverance” revisit, today was a day for crashing boars on the water – people hired to transport million dollar yachts and trawlers to the owners in Florida, probably from the Annapolis power boat show, which ended October 14. Today, October 17, these “dickheads”, so named by the Admiral, came up behind us at the speed of sound, moved way over to pass, and never even announced that they were behind us and intended to pass. They don’t know what they’re doing (or do they?), so they don’t get close to us. Therefore, when they pass, they create a huge wake, with waves that come crashing into Slow Motion with the greatest possible impact, so we toss sideways and up and down, until nearly every secured item in the cabin has been thrown from its safe place on to the floor.  And the Admiral’s full glass of tea went flying all over the flying bridge. Thank you very much, Dickheads – to quote the Admiral on the radio to the troglodyte equivalent of reckless drivers who hit and run on land.  This grossly negligent behavior occurred three times today – three times – in a span of a few hours.

It is hoped that the dashing and crashing boars have all gone ahead of us now, and tomorrow we will share the ICW with only the most pleasant cruisers, who say things like: “Hello, Slow Motion. This is Summer Skis, coming up on your starboard. I would like to pass. Do you have a preference as to side?” And the Admiral responds: “Thank you for contacting me, Summer Skis. You may pass on either side, choose your side.” And the pleasant cruiser captain says: “I will pass on the starboard side and I will slow down as I pass, so that you are not tossed about by my wake.” And the Admiral responds: “Thank you, Captain, you are most thoughtful.” Really, this is the world of cruisers who know the boating rules AND who are civilized and live by the Golden Rule. These are the people who make cruising on the ICW so much fun.  When everyone knows the rules and plays by the same rules -- on the Waterway as well as with the tax code -- the safe, courteous boaters (and the middle class) prosper and thrive – and enjoy themselves too. End of Boat Courtesy Sermon.

You might wonder why we don’t report the reckless speedsters. Most of them are piloting yachts that are so new, they have no names and no registration numbers. Just like gangbangers’ cars – all means of identification have been either removed or never even affixed to the banging boats. Their only goal is to get the boat to the owner as soon as possible, no matter how much fuel they burn, because usually the owner has hired them to “fly” down the ICW, in order to save money. It’s much cheaper to pay a crew that runs your boat 12 hours a day for 4 days than for 6 hours a day for 8 days. So yes, the owners, the “job creators”, share the responsibility for this totally irresponsible behavior. They want their boats NOW. They don’t care how many boats of the 98% are tossed around to get their boats NOW. But that’s just part of being privileged, nay, entitled – after all, if they are rich enough to own these million dollar babies, then they believe they are entitled to get them delivered by the fastest means available. Are you familiar with this mindset? We’re doing great, but you 47% over there – stop acting like victims, like you’re “entitled” to government support, just because we outsourced your jobs. If you’re not rich like us, you must be a loser anyway, and I’m not going to worry about you. “Flood their boats!” “Knock them around on the waterway a little bit!” “Show them who really rules this country.” OMG, it’s class warfare on the water, and I just thought it was a few rude boaters in a hurry.

On the lighter side, if you like fried chicken (and I didn’t know that I did until recently), come to the restaurant at Alligator River Marina for Annette’s fried chicken. It’s lightly battered and seasoned to perfection. The chicken, both white and dark meat, is moist and tender. Start off with Annette’s fried onion rings, then go straight into the fried chicken, and your stomach will thank you. Seriously. I know, I know –we’re not supposed to eat “fried” anything – the cholesterol arguments are raging – but once in a while, when you sit down at the Alligator River Marina restaurant, you owe it to your taste buds to order and enjoy the fried chicken.  It is even worth overcoming your fear of alligators to treat yourself to this gustatory delight.