Pirates of the Apostles

September, 2008

Chanchez and I showed up precisely at 5:13. Right on time for Cap'n Jacques 5:00 pm departure. The last of the weekend crew to arrive. Cap’n Jacques was pacing the decks. "Who's got a cell phone with coverage?" What's to be alarmed about? Joe’s message from Oak Island at 2:00 pm was "She's calm seas, really nice". Anyway, a phone call back to da Cities’ reported only one band of storms rolling through and that one has already passed. "OK, winds out of the SW, we have a good line of mainland to paddle for a while and then just one crossing at the end."

Cap'n Jacques throws out, "Whatdaya Think?… Do we hit it, or camp on the main land like a bunch of Nancy boys?" A couple of blank stares, no verbal’s and one Idon'tknow. Pause….. "Suck it up cupcakes, we're shov'n off"!!! So we all heave ho, pack boats, and come to attention. (What we didn't get was Joe’s second voice mail "well,… she's blow'n pretty strong… Some tall seas….I don't want to tell you what to not do but…. Well, I'm sure that you will use your best judgment". (Translation: you would be nuttier than a monkey in a barrel to be on the water tonight.)

So we paddle north. No big deal but the winds are still ornery. Crossing a big bay gave some of us a few "Wake-Up Calls" with a slap on the side of the carcass, and water running down the back side. This was just the primer. We did group-up, look at the white caps, the buoy, and the island beyond. General consensus: camp and bedding for the night was on the other side of those white caps.

It wasn't until we were committed (and we should be) that the full gravity of the situation was apparent. We were in 5 ft seas… For some it was a "YEEE HAAA" and for some it was "Oh baby Jesus, if you let me live through this I will go to church… one day, some day". Not to fear. After about 50 of the tall ones, you kind of got used to it. We all made it to the far shore, and the wind, just to spank us one more time, was picking up beach sand and spewing it at us.

Despite the gale force winds at the beach, the camp site was what we needed. We earned - An Awesome Campout! Due to the storm all of the wood was wet and someone was going to pass out trying to get a fire started. Ed to the rescue with highly resinous birch bark, and a fire was a blaz'n. A few recaps around the fire on the "evening paddle", some more tall stories, and all slept well in the comfort of dry land and a dry sleeping bag.

Saturday was a glorious, blue sky day, without a cloud in the sky. The 7.5 miles to Stockton was enough to "earn" lunch and the 7.5 back was definitely enough to earn the Bacchanalia of THE pot luck supper. As usual the group tried to restrain themselves for the pot luck weekend, but having a tall cold brew and hor derves on the beach, the ensuing belly bust'n 27 course meal, and everyone was guaranteed to over indulge, and sleep like a baby. A few more tall stories, another great camp fire, and the crew were dropping like flies.

Sunday was another glorious day. Blue skies, but as with the theme of the weekend, there be head winds to bust our chops on the way home. We got a good shove-off from Joe and all could feel his extra energy as he paddled with us for a while to help push us off of the island. 7/8 of the crew opted for the straightest line between the two points of, where we were, and where transportation home was. The second 1/8 paddled a little more around Basswood Island and then on homeward. As always, we all had to have that first main meal back on shore, where someone else walks up to you and asks "can I get you a frosty cool one while you figure out what your dining pleasure will be"? Another successful adventure. May there be many more!

Note, that characters and caricatures portrayed in this story are purely from the gray matter of the author. Any similarities of these characters and events to reality are purely incidental.

All had an excellent Time. The End.