That was us. We were taken advantage of and there was nothing we could do about it.
When our Boat Captain/Mechanic/Savior went to the boatyard to coordinate getting our boat into the water we received the following e-mail:
Hello, I’ve attached the invoice for your review, please let me
know if you would like for me to apply charges on the card and/or if you
have any questions….thank you.
My Better Half’s flight left and got in very, very early. I went to pick him up then we went back to bed; neither of us had slept much.
A couple of hours later the boat-repair yard guy sent a text (which was very nice):
Yur boat is fine.
Oh, thank God.
My Better Half did not get a flight out that night. He had to wait until the next morning, the morning of July 4.
Well, we had a spectacular launch and exactly one week in the water. Then came Arthur. Arthur, who was supposed to turn South. Arthur, who was supposed to fizzle out. Arthur, which wasn’t supposed to be anything to concern ourselves with at all.
Arthur is an Asshole.
Funnily enough, the impending Tropical Storm didn’t weaken, didn’t turn South, and didn’t do what we wanted it to. So strange…
There was my Better Half, alone in Beaufort, NC, relying on the kindness of strangers (Lou and Nancy from Barry Duckworth, we are forever in your debt). I was in The Commune, commuting to New York, trying to make money and be a productive member of society. And, for a little while, we had a third member of our relationship: Arthur, as he came to be called.
Sailing Devilfish 