Got down to Namaste for a 2 nighter out. It's pretty difficult for me to get coverage for Mom for 3 days but I did it with the help from a few of my friends. So, our plan was to tow the jet ski over to Dun Cove where we were going to spend two nights on the boat. John put together a 'tow package' which consisted of pvc piping, rope and a clip (here comes trouble). I rode the ski out to the bay and dropped a crab pot while John prepped the boat and motored out to meet me where we'd hook the jet ski up, The plan was that I'd climb on Namaste, grab a cool cocktail and that was supposed to be the end of that story. Ah, but dear readers, we know that's not how the John and Lori story usually goes....
So, we met up in the bay and hooked up the ski with the clip. I secured the dry box, made sure all was well before jumping off the ski for a short swim to the boat. What I didn't do was take my coach prescription sunglasses off my head before jumping over.
Bay total so far:
One pair of John's shoes ($50)
One pair of Lori's shorts ($50)
One brand new tow rope, tag still attached ($20)
One pair of Coach sunglasses ($400)
By my book, the Bay is way ahead.
Anyway, for about 4 minutes, the tow worked great. The jet ski bobbed 10 feet behind the boat as we powered at 6 knots or so. And then....and then....
As we sat on the boat, fresh cocktails in hand, proud that the plan was working, one of us turned to check on the ski and.....WTF? It was, oh, WAAAAAY back there, on its lonesome, floating mournfully alone in the bay. And, let me tell you, even though we knew that it was our ski, it's a scary, eerie site to see a jet ski bobbing alone in the bay. One immediately thinks: where is the rider?! Well, the rider was sipping a cocktail, safe and sound and a bit perplexed.
So, we turned around to retrieve the ski and determined that the clip gave way. Evidently, a $15 clip is just not enough to assure one will not lose a ski under tow.
Add to bay total:
One clip ($15)
So, Plan B had to be enforced and we didn't have a Plan B but that's never stopped us before.
After another cocktail and a bit of discussion, it was determined that I should climbed aboard and jet across the bay, through Knapps Narrows (where there are a lot of boats and this scares me on the ski as I have NO idea of what I'm doing), and over to the cove where John met me on Namaste and anchored.
I wasn't planning on jetting the 13 miles over there in bobbing seas by myself but really got into the rhythm of the bay and enjoyed the ride. Actually was jumping some of those big boat wakes that threw Bobbi and me a few weeks ago. Exhilarating catching air, even if I was only jumping, oh, maybe 8 inches or so out of the water.
Made it through Knapps Narrows where there were BIIIIIG boats. I freak out if there's a boat within a quarter mile of me and these boats were up close and personal. Didn't much care for it. But, trooper that I am, I jetted under the bridge and made it over to the cove where John eventually appeared.
After stowing Namaste safely, he took over the ski and I assumed my favorite position as passenger. We headed off to Oxford which is just about 15 minutes from the cove when one is moving at warp speed. Of course, we were in search of food and drink and bellied up to a local waterfront bar. Took a walk down the one street that is Oxford and then hit the ski to head back. On the way, well, there was another waterfront bar so bellied on up there. Full and sated, eventually, we headed back to Namaste for a gorgeous night on the water.
The next day was proving to be HOT even at 5:30 am. We were planning to jet over to St. Michael's but someone at Knapps told us it was about 1:30 ride even on the ski. Nix that. My body was already sore from my solo trip the day before. Undecided about what to do, we both realized that the day was too warm and jelly fish too aplenty to spend it about Namaste so we made the executive decision to get a hotel room over at Harrison's Inn by Tilghman.
Anyone who has ever seen Dirty Dancing has intimate knowledge of Harrison's Inn. It's identical in every way to the lodge. Although, instead of Patrick Swayze (drats), there were a LOT of aging, Southern Maryland Elvises floating around. And that was proven again when karaoke started! The DJ was actually fantastic in an Elvisesque way. Really great Elvis voice. But, the patrons? Not so much. We
Oh, I skipped the lunch story....
We were sitting at the outside dock bar, at the counter facing the marina - beautiful, serene view when a guy John knows from his marina came over and told us that we had the best seats in the house. 'Yes, we know,' was John's reply and, since he had chosen these seats, I think his chest even puffed out a bit. Now I had just started silently wondering show the screens were ripped when we were 2 stories off the ground - hell of a seagull, thought I until the guy John knows launched into a story of the 'Captain Buddy' a 70 footer charter boat. The Captain Buddy is captained by, go figure, Buddy senior who is about 85 and owns the marina and hotel. So, the guy John knows gestures out as he's launching into the story and here comes Captain Buddy (the boat) at pretty good speed and the anchor is headed right for us. I instinctively jump back, already figuring out the disarray of the ripped screen. Evidently, Captain Buddy (the captain) shouldn't necessarily be captaining any longer as he ran the anchor through the screen just the week before AND the week before that! But, this day, thankfully, the boat gracefully turned and backed into a slip that it totally dwarfed. Namaste, docked next to the mammoth boat looked like a dinghy...
Dinner was delightful and included the best blue crabs I have EVER in my life had - and, trust me, I've had some pretty good crabs. These were the sweetest, meatiest things ever. I left totally enamoured with Harrison's.
The end of the weekend plan was for me to ride the jet ski out to deeper water on the way back to the marina where John would take the ski and I would handle Namaste. We were both so looking forward to swapping vehicles as I was (or rather, my butt was...) ready for the comfort of Namaste. Would have been a good plan (again with the plan?!) but I fouled the impeller of the ski by getting a rope caught up. Dead. Dead in the water - literally. Shoot. Ended up having to tow the thing and then the engine on Namaste decided to take a leave of absence. Changed gas tanks (although the first tank was full so it's still a mystery), fired her up and headed for the safety of Harrington North. Made it back without any huge issues...thankfully.
So, we had to drop the ski off at the same Honda dealership where we picked it up 3 short days before. And, I believe I heard some laughter from Brian, our friendly service manager....ah, well, it's only money...
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