Dan: Hey Wendy, what are your thoughts on doing a press trip down in the BVI next year? Could be a great opportunity, but we need to choose if we want a sail or powerboat. Seems like a no-brainer to me.
Wendy: Hey Dan! Of course it’s a no-brainer: sailboat. They’re called trade winds.
Sign me up, and thanks!
Dan: The only thing I’m trading are winch handles for the smell of diesel in the morning. I’d actually like to visit the islands, not spend the whole week getting to them!
Wendy: Oooh, that sounds so island-time … like a vacation driving I95, with water. Hammer down to the next mooring, “Ride of the Valkyries” blaring, diesel plumes billowing. Sounds absolutely frigging magical. If David Crosby were still alive, I’m sure that kind of experience would inspire another “Southern Cross.” Not.
Dan: Easy! Let’s not bring “Ride of the Valkryies” into this, you know that’s my ring tone. Still, I’m going to need some ice for that burn; if we were in a power cat I could drive straight to a marina and get some while you’re out tacking back and forth and thinking poetic thoughts.
I don’t know how we’re going to settle this one. If we go power cat we can cruise at 7 knots for a while to make you feel at home.
Wendy: You’re so thoughtful. Let me return the gesture and suggest that when we sail, I can make steady withdrawals from your bank account so you don’t feel unsettled about not opening up your wallet every five minutes for fuel and marina fees. I’ll provide the diesel-scented Renuzit for your cabin as we enjoy quiet nights on a peaceful mooring, picked up after an invigorating day of crossing the sparkling Caribbean waters while not burning fossil fuels that are contributing to the warming of those waters. And no, you don’t have to wear the Sperry Birkenstocks. I know you love your Redneck Boot Sandals—they’ll be fine.
Dan: Damn, now the sailing gloves are coming off. I don’t know who told you about my boot sandles (bootles or sandoots for short?) but they are both stylish and comfortable. But dang, as much as I think a rum drink and a 20-knot cruise would help ease your saltiness, I’ll concede this round. Just don’t be too surprised when after hours of zig-zagging I jump in the tender and row to our destination. I’ll save a rum drink for you at the bar and if you really miss sailing when we get there, I’m happy to splash you with a glass of water.
Wendy: So pleased we’ve reached an accord, and I love that you used such a fun word—saltiness—to describe what I will concede could be construed as a bit of self-righteousness. But then, we sailors have earned it. While we’re bashing to weather en route to our destination I’ll take you up on the rum drink (with ginger beer to quell the seasickness, in a sippy cup to limit spillage) and really, if you feel compelled to get more exercise, I guess rowing’s as good a choice as any.
Dan: Remind me not to cross you—unless I’m aboard a powerboat and blasting past at 30 knots.
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MHPS Winter 2024
