| Log
Book - Atlantic City
September
22, 2003
Atlantic City
Before
the fishermen we got up and left this sweet and wind and wake
becalmed place. The whole night we had smelled the fish and
shell boats 20 Feet leeward. What a sweet place, but it drove
us insane that we didn't have a dinghy and with that weren't
able to attend any kind of social life again.
Anyways,
it was a nice sailing day. With a blaze of wind in our back
we headed down the coast, passing beaches and cities, everyone
equally equipped with water towers. It became quite long then
and my bum went sour like I never xperiencec before. Maybe
all these nights in the same underwear, cotton stripes ripping
apart my flesh 24/7, sitting on stoneharded Fiberglas boatseats
and getting bounced by wakes and waves finally gave me some
credit. And so I couldn't find a comfortable spot any more,
got out my folding camping chair and placed myself at the
very bow trying to occupy my mind with reading, a difficult
task.
We
also saw some fish swarms. Flukes in a row, formatted like
a squad of navy steal fighters. And other little fishes going
crazy and jumping around the boat.
Finally,
in Atlantic City, we docked and went sight-seeing in the ghetto
afraid to get shot. We also saw huge casinos with helicopter
landings. Apparently what Atlantic City is famous for. Unfortunately,
the ghetto shop was not very divers with food supply and expensive
so we got out without uprising any further attention. The
shower and shave at the marina did well our souls. Hot water
on my body, a sensation of happiness I will tell my grandchildren
about...
Hooking
in the bay at night was difficult. Strong currents, fear and
wind tormenting our pour crew. During the night the cables
were banging hard again in the mast. Oh Lord, come soon.
(J)
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