Category: Lifestyle

Songs to Strip By

Posted in Captain, Caribbean, Countries, Life Coach, Lifestyle, Memories, Music, Places, Travel, WorkTagged , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Written by Captain G

Day 1

There I was, minding my own company, when I found myself in the middle of an electrical storm in the Dominican Republic, sitting in a brothel. Not by choice, but that’s where business was taking place. Let me explain the events that led me here, and the lady over my right shoulder playing Angry Birds on her mobile phone.

Song one: Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

I have been asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement twice in my Captain’s career. One was for a boat out of Hilton Head, South Carolina. The other was for a yacht and owner that I never saw.

A yacht representative contacted me to discuss a short-term contract as a fill-in Captain. My duties would be to babysit a new pleasure yacht and the crew for a long weekend in the Caribbean. We agreed on terms, and I was scheduled to fly out of Miami and into Santo Domingo in two weeks. 

Song Two: Cherry Pie by Warrant

The day of the flight felt stress-free, and I was lucky enough to find an attractive Russian ballerina in the seat beside me for the flight. We chatted, and I tried to impress her with the few Russian words I picked up on trips to Moscow years past. While deboarding the plane and going through customs, she walked with me and chatted until we grabbed our bags, said our goodbyes, and went looking for our rides. My driver could not hide even if he tried. He was the tallest guy in the waiting area and had a printed sign that said, ” CAPTAIN G.”

Song Three: Pony by Ginuwine

Once in the vehicle, a new blacked-out Escalade, he notified me that there was a change in the plan due to the Yacht not being in port yet, and arrangements were made for me at a snazzy hotel downtown. 

At the hotel, he told me that the owner said to enjoy my night and we would see how tomorrow morning goes. I noticed he was packing a pistol as he handed me my duffel bag. I have been around enough to know I was still on the good side of his hand cannon. We shook hands, and into the hotel, I went.

In the next post, I will explain how amber jewelry and Columbus’s ashes were within my reach on Day 2. 

Written by Captain G

Tide and Thyme

Posted in Food, Life Coach, Lifestyle, Memories, Motivation, Travel, UncategorizedTagged , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Written by Captain G

These are reflections from a journal entry a few years ago during a complete catamaran sailboat rebuild:

This catamaran project has taken 24 months so far to date and has been chicken soup for my soul. Not the watered-down generic type, but the proper homemade style with hearty bits. Technically I had been homeless for over a year by my own design since I had sold my last sailboat in St Augustine, Florida. I was sleeping in everything from fancy hotels, my truck, friends’ spare rooms, and even under a bridge once to see what it was like. I knew my next boat would be a catamaran, and I searched until the right one came along, and it did. I was on the beach in Bora Bora, French Polynesia, when I received the email stating that my offer was accepted.

 Rebuilding a damaged vessel is, in a sense, building a relationship with yourself. There are options. Do you take the cheap and easy route on this project to finish fast? Or do you realize that you must pay now or pay later? The 20-year-old me would not have known where to start and abandoned the idea quickly to chase the nearest skirt. The 30-year-old me would have taken on the project to prove he could. And then there’s the 44-year-old me who has learned from his previous three sailboat rebuilds and slowed down to attempt to do it correctly. They say, “It’s not the destination; it’s the journey.”

Love

Webster’s dictionary says love is: warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion.

Can we choose what hobbies we love? Are we good at selecting the right ones for ourselves if we can? Do we decide on things that come from natural talent and are easy? Or something we are interested in but have to try really hard with the learning curve? I recently had dinner with a longtime Chef friend on a trip to Washington, DC. We chatted about why the deviled eggs on the appetizer menu only came in odd numbers. Where is the other half of the last egg?

During the meal, we noted that Captains and Chefs have a similar character. Both careers have people’s happiness and safety in their hands. Also, both professions can have a dark side that rears itself in high-stress situations. We like to think we are the most competent person on the ship or in the kitchen. We keep the tricks we’ve learned close to our vest and thrive on seeing the looks of enjoyment. Over the summer, I had a Hell’s Kitchen moment in what I perceived as a stressful maneuver. The look of disappointment from the crew and the immediate feeling in my heart will haunt me.

I travel; therefore, I am. I also like to eat, learn, build, and dance when I think no one is looking. However, this blog is about the journey. The journey of rebuilding an abandoned burnt-out catamaran, where this vessel takes me, and the connections made with the people along the way. At the two-year mark of this project, I ask myself:

 Have I been building a better boat? Or have I been building a Better Person?

Smugglers Blues

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Written by Captain G

On some accounts, in certain circles, a few folks may say I come from a long line of runners. Moonshine, cars, weed, guns, tobacco, I may have heard a story of fine cutlery swapping hands without paying taxes. It’s a culture that crosses borders, not just lines on a map, but also civil status. Rich and needy people worldwide make money by moving goods from one place to another.

The names and locations in this story are changed to protect the guilty.
It was spring, and I was about to sail through the Caribbean. The boat was waiting for me in Miami. All I needed was for my work contract in the Carolinas to finish. A few friends were keen to discover what this sailing lifestyle was all about. One had just escaped his 3rd or 5th marriage engagement. The other was happy in a long-term relationship.
I didn’t think I needed the help, but I thought the company on the trip would be nice. The invitation to go sailing for a few weeks was given to both of them. Cassanova immediately said yes. The other friend, well, he needed to convince his girlfriend.
During the next few days, we jumped into the planning stage. Options were thrown around to find the most logical way for the guys to get to Miami and meet me at the boat. A friend who dabbles in high-end golf resorts overheard us. “Hey, you know that beer is $50 per case in the Bahamas, right?” “If I brought a few cases to your boat, would you drop them off as you pass by Nassau?” My idea of a few cases is around three boxes. I thought about it and said yes.

Back in Miami, the beer delivery guys arrived at the sloop with sixteen cases of various Cerveza. I was immediately thinking of how we were going to accommodate the volume. The best option was to turn the boxes on their sides and walk across them inside the boat. Problem solved!

We consumed the next few days preparing the boat for the trip, food, water, fuel, and fishing gear. Yacht and crew ready, we dropped the mooring ball and made our heading for Bimini in the Bahamas. It was a quick overnight sail where we found ourselves tied up to a dock by late morning. With little sleep, we still made it a point to explore what Bimini had to offer. Starting at our marina bar, then to the marina bar next door, followed by the Big Game Club, most notable for where Hemmingway made memorable moments. We soon found out why our friend wanted us to bring cheap beer. Everywhere we went, the beer was going for 7 USD per bottle. OUCH! At some point during the night’s festivities, we noticed one of the cases of beer on the boat had popped open. Being a pro safety Captain, I ruled that the safest option would be for us to stop buying beer and start drinking the loose cans rolling around on the floor. You see where this is leading, right?

After three more weeks of floating around the Bahamas, goofing off, and exploring, we went to the Atlantis Resort in Nassau. Our friend arrived with his band of merry men to help carry the 16… 15… I mean, 4 cases of beer left unopened. The only reason four cases were still on the boat was that those four were “gut rot” Budweiser. I mean, we do have standards on how low we would go, even with free beer!

To this day, I remember him saying, “You are the worst smuggler ever!” He was right, and I never pulled a stunt like that again. I guess this is one time that the acorn did fall far from the tree.

Food Pirates, a Victim

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Aquatramp sea foam logo

Written by Captain G

Or a life long expert in taking the path less traveled.

Last month my travel journal fell into the hands of food pirates. Wait, you have never heard of food pirates? Seriously, they are real. You may not realize it yet, but I bet you have been a victim of them at some point.

Think about it. Have you ever looked at your dinner plate and said, “No way I ate all that.” Or maybe your best friend had already ordered her third margarita when you didn’t see her pound the second one. And let’s not forget about the late nights you are standing in front of an open refrigerator, staring at the old cheese beside a half-empty White Claw. Yep, it’s all because of those sneaky bastard Food Pirates stealing things off our plates and tables. Even that mango sorbet sprinkled with habanero pepper powder that you wasn’t sure if you loved or hated was left as an empty bowl. Food Pirates.

You may have seen glimpses of my travel journal on those older social media posts. During my travels, I’d jot down notes of things I saw, heard, and smelled. Lots of times, I would even try to draw out the moments. They are great memories. 

One particular moment was in Lisbon, Portugal. The two days after arriving in Portugal, I’d managed to find myself in a swanky upscale restaurant. Another time was Iceland in the 90s, before everyone had internet. Then there is Northern Ireland, where I had made my way into a pub and realized the locals were sizing me up because they didn’t know who I was just before a huge festival. I guess it was time to retire that book.

The best things in the world happen at a dinner table, and occasionally on a dinner table! I believe every meal has a story. Here’s a toast to the next year full of recipes and new friends. Let’s start.

Page 1, CHICAGO- Who hasn’t gotten into the wrong limo at least once?