Grand Cayman is a quick cure to all that ails during these winter months, quite literally going from one B.W.I. sporting a winter hat to another B.W.I. wearing only swim trunks and snorkel in about four hours. Fishing, boating, snorkeling, sun bathing, and SCUBA are all easily obtained. Fortunately, the island’s expense along with this addict’s shallow pockets are the only things preventing me from hitting it more often than I do.
The Chesapeake’s real curse is its proximity to an endless supply of brine at her borders, almost daring me to push my cruising boundaries even further. When local supplies freeze up, it’s crazy-simple to use local airports to smuggle me to the next-best water on the planet for my salt fix. If only the Caribbean were more difficult to obtain, I’d think twice about using it during layup. Naw, who am I kidding? That’s just the junkie talking.
by Mike Edick
Monday, January 2, 2017 - 09:46
Avid readers of B.O.A.T. probably understand the plot’s basic premise: a never-ending drain to the wallet or pocketbook whenever the word “marine” is whispered. In my case, the wounds are often self-inflicted; too many RPMs, too many pounds underway, too many hours on the meters, too much depth on the sonar’s display versus reality. It’s all just the price of my pay-to-play plan.
Then sometimes, I seem to go out of my way to reduce my wallet’s weight.
I’m starting to understand the Curse of the Chesapeake; it’s having water and destinations so nice that the boat actually gets used. Sure, keeping the boat on the showroom floor would extend her life and value, but that’s not really the point of boating. Her throttles are like drugs for my right arm, and I overlook the expense of maintaining my habit; friends, fuel, engine parts, fiberglass, sometimes even running gear are the costs of my next hit.
One of the few downsides to boating on the Chesapeake can’t be overcome easily, as Mother Nature and my insurance agent conspire to produce withdrawal symptoms from November through March. Anxiety, agitation, insomnia, a lightening of my skin color cause pain that only emptying of the pocket can remedy. And seawater. Lots and lots of seawater.
Grand Cayman is a quick cure to all that ails during these winter months, quite literally going from one B.W.I. sporting a winter hat to another B.W.I. wearing only swim trunks and snorkel in about four hours. Fishing, boating, snorkeling, sun bathing, and SCUBA are all easily obtained. Fortunately, the island’s expense along with this addict’s shallow pockets are the only things preventing me from hitting it more often than I do.
The Chesapeake’s real curse is its proximity to an endless supply of brine at her borders, almost daring me to push my cruising boundaries even further. When local supplies freeze up, it’s crazy-simple to use local airports to smuggle me to the next-best water on the planet for my salt fix. If only the Caribbean were more difficult to obtain, I’d think twice about using it during layup. Naw, who am I kidding? That’s just the junkie talking.
by Mike Edick
Grand Cayman is a quick cure to all that ails during these winter months, quite literally going from one B.W.I. sporting a winter hat to another B.W.I. wearing only swim trunks and snorkel in about four hours. Fishing, boating, snorkeling, sun bathing, and SCUBA are all easily obtained. Fortunately, the island’s expense along with this addict’s shallow pockets are the only things preventing me from hitting it more often than I do.
The Chesapeake’s real curse is its proximity to an endless supply of brine at her borders, almost daring me to push my cruising boundaries even further. When local supplies freeze up, it’s crazy-simple to use local airports to smuggle me to the next-best water on the planet for my salt fix. If only the Caribbean were more difficult to obtain, I’d think twice about using it during layup. Naw, who am I kidding? That’s just the junkie talking.
by Mike Edick