Preparations to leave Roosevelt Roads

The grass is getting a little shaggy at the marina...

As mentioned last week, things are drawing down quickly here.

The “Troop Store”, or Mini-Mart/Class 6 depending on what flavor base you were stationed, closed last Saturday and the operators (AAFES) are busy moving out all the inventory, displays, freezers, ice machines, and today, even the paper towel dispensers in the bathrooms. Some of the boats have moved on, and others are hanging on until the last minute (and, I suspect, beyond the last minute for some).

A number of the boaters were on hand this weekend, and we had a fun little get-together at the club, with Tim from Spirit Charters playing harmonica and me playing guitar. It’s always nice to have someone to jam with!

but not as wild as the old golf course!

We didn’t get to top off our diesel before they ran out, but have plenty to last us until we get to St. Thomas. We got a rental car for the final time yesterday and ran out for groceries and West Marine necessities. We’re doing a last load of laundry today and trying to complete any “to-do” list items that might require a lot of electricity.

The current plan is to head for Culebra on Friday, and spend some time there prior to continuing the journey. Keep an eye on the SPOT!

Dodging Maria

View of Salinas Harbor from our anchorage.

After the bumps and bruises on the tail of Hurricane Irene, we weren’t too happy about the path Maria was taking. She appeared to be going east and north of us, but we still worried about a south swell after her passing and that’s what got uncomfortable during Irene.

Having just loaded up on food and supplies, we took on fuel and water, then decided to head south and west, away from the projected path of Maria. On Friday Sep 9th, we took in our doubled lines, started the engine, and backed out of the slip for the first time in over two months. About halfway out of the harbor, the engine died. Bad fuel? Leak? What could it be? Oops, the fuel valve past the primary filter was shut during Irene when the marina lost power, to facilitate my bleeding/starting our generator. Forgot to open that one up prior to getting underway! At least we were still in relatively calm water, so bleeding the injectors and getting the engine started again after opening the valve wasn’t TOO painful.

That was the only hiccup on the way south, where we pulled into Puerto Patillas for the evening just after sunset.That is, unless you count the loud karaoke coming from shore until the wee hours. “My Way” in Espanol, anyone? As a result, we slept in a bit on Saturday before continuing on to Salinas. The inner harbor at Salinas was still a bit crowded for our taste, so we anchored in the outer approaches in the lee of the mangroves. We had a calm evening and spent Sunday working on little projects around the boat and reading. On Monday a bit of swell started making it in to our anchorage area while we went ashore with Sam & Janet from Flying Fish for lunch. After our return, we hemmed and hawed about trying to find a spot closer in or gutting it out. We finally decided to head for “Mar Negro”, the mangrove lined inlet just to the east of Salinas. The mouth of the inlet is totally protected by barrier islands and reefs, resulting in pond-calm water about 20 feet deep in the center. There were only a few boats there when we passed on the way west, and that was still the case as we dropped anchor just after sunset once again.

We relaxed amongst the rain-showers and kept an eye on the weather as Maria slowed down, at one point to only 4 knots! We coveted the unusual southwest winds (which would push us back towards Roosevelt Roads instead of having to motor into the winds), but didn’t want to brave the higher seas and rain squalls, so we waited until Thursday the 15th to head out. The seas were down to around three feet, about as good as it gets, and as it appeared a swell was still running into the Puerto Patillas bay, we decided to push on to Roosevelt Roads. The wind, forecast to be SE, actually stayed SE for once and allowed us to raise the sail for the final seventeen miles, allowing us to make better time and sail into the bay by 2:30 PM. We moored at “home” and were cleaned up by happy hour.

The parcel of land that includes the marina has been sold to local government, and will be turned over on October 1. Before we left, the question was whether the marina would be administered by the National Guard or the local yacht club as a tenant. When we returned, we found out the latest news is that the Naval Activity Puerto Rico (official name for the remnants of Roosevelt Roads Navy Base) sent notification that they require ALL tenants to depart by Oct 1, to remain vacant until the National Guard sets up access, security, insurance, etc. – and any property left behind will be considered “abandoned”.

This doesn’t have too much impact on us, as we were planning on moving on by Oct anyway, now we just have a hard deadline. Some of the boats, however, have been here for many years and I’m not sure they’ll be able to move in the next two weeks. Should be interesting!

Another look at anniversaries

Annually, we celebrate birthdays, marriages, deaths, and other significant times in our lives. Some anniversaries are significant in the lives of millions of people.  We share memories about 9/11, such as where we were when we first heard about or saw those horrifying and mystifying pictures of the American Airlines jets flying into the World Trade Center towers. These images stay with us forever. 

But, some anniversaries slip by unnoticed. Their occurrence while imperceptibly commonplace, have yet to show their significance. In fact, I would argue, that unless you were fully aware, you would not have known that a life changing moment had occurred.  

Our home in Franklin, Wisconsin, the winter before
 we purchased our floating home, Troubadour

To honor the anniversary you have to recognize that a change has occurred in you.

September 2008, Labor Day Weekend, Chris and I are sitting on a bed in a cheap motel in Daytona Beach. We are in Florida to work on our boat, Troubadour, but it’s raining outside so we are watching television.  In Franklin, Wisconsin, someone has made an offer to buy our house. The cell phone rings, words are spoken. Our lives are about to change forever.

The lines of our comfort zones begin to blur. In the weeks after that phone call, we embark on an uncharted course. We have to steer our lives toward a deadline now. The closing is October 17^th. The talks during our daily 45-minute commute to our GE Healthcare cubicles are focused on what directions the signposts in our lives need to point for us to make Troubadour our new home. 


We muddle through. We can’t believe it’s really happening. We share our hopes and fears.  We learn some things about how we handle stress as a couple. Mostly we realize we can change enough to make a dream come true, and no matter what happens, we will be okay. We can turn the toy box of our lives upside down and put back in all the toys we want to keep along with some new ones.

Commander Chris May retires from the US Navy;
 the ceremony held at the South Shore Yacht Club, Milwaukee, Wis.

To honor the anniversary you have to recognize how you live your life has changed.

In those weeks before leaving Wisconsin, we plan and hold a naval retirement for Chris at the South Shore Yacht Club in Milwaukee.  We live in our house for two weeks while an estate sale is under way.  It’s unnerving to have your privacy exposed for public consumption.  Our belongings, what has made the cut and goes with us to Troubadour, are locked in a 10 x 12 bedroom. We begin to tell people we are moving; first our friends, then the dive shop we’ve been freelancing for on weekends, and finally our employer. We are excited to be leaving our jobs, having chosen our own definition of “retirement”.  And like entering a new anchorage, we are a little queasy about how our lives are going to change. But we venture forth.

To honor the anniversary you have to keep on purpose for turning out your life.

Socrates said “Wisdom begins in Wonder.” Three years after that phone call in that run down motel on Daytona Beach, what we didn’t know is now part of who we’ve become. Our lives are different; our newfound wisdom is in the details of the journey. And yet we still remain committed to this life course on the bow of wonder.

What small, almost insignificant, event in your life caused you to swerve onto a new path? How aware were you at that time, that your life would no longer be the same? What did you learn about yourself and those around you during this new journey in your life? Anniversaries mark a one year passage of time, how are you different now? Are you on purpose for creating the life you dream of?

To read more about our beginnings go to - Troubadour Sailblogs 2008

What the heck is "Whiskey Toast"?

Navajo Rug is a standard on Troubadour’s play list. I will sometimes request it when Chris brings out the guitar. I like to sing along at the chorus. But, lately that first line has really been bugging me.  I kept wondering, what is “Whiskey Toast”? (The lyrics, written by Ian Tyson, and the song, popularized by Jerry Jeff Walker, begin ..."Well it's two eggs up on whiskey toast, Home fries on the side, You wash her down with the roadhouse coffee that burns up your inside...") So, I did a little research. Not only did I find a definition of whiskey toast, but we also had a good laugh on few other tidbits, too.

In fact you might wonder what was going on if you heard this when you ordered breakfast at a diner, “I need a blonde with sand, a couple of life preservers, two eggs up on whiskey toast, and sea dust.” But if you worked in a diner this might be common slang for your order.  More on that order later.

Internet research cooked up this information: “In the golden age of diners, before computerized ordering systems, the waiter or waitress would call out orders to the cooks. And to stave off boredom and to make the orders memorable and easier to hear,

they came up with their own slang.

“Diner lingo is a kind of American verbal slang used by cooks and chefs in diners and diner-style restaurants, and by the waitresses to communicate their orders to the cooks. It is virtually unknown outside the US.

“The origin of the lingo is unknown, but there is evidence suggesting it may have been used by waiters as early as the 1870s and 1880s. Many of the terms used are lighthearted and tongue-in-cheek and some are a bit racy or ribald, but are helpful mnemonic devices for short-order cooks and staff.”

We learned that “Whiskey Toast” is rye bread – maybe because whiskey is made from rye or because of the dark brown color of rye breads.

Remember that order you placed a few paragraphs back? Your waitress will put this breakfast on your table: Coffee with cream and sugar (a blonde with sand), doughnuts (life preservers), two eggs up on rye toast (whiskey toast) and some salt (sea dust).

You may still hear this lingo in cowboy country diners. Next time you place an order, chew on these:

Adam & Eve on a raft & wreck 'em: two scrambled eggs on toast

Baled hay: shredded wheat

Bloodhounds in the hay: hot dogs and sauerkraut

Burn one, take it through the garden and pin a rose on it:

hamburger with lettuce, tomato and onion

Burn the British: toasted English muffin

Shit on a shingle/S.O.S.: minced dried beef with gravy on toast (it was a reviled and loved standard fare in army messes)

Shingle with a shimmy and a shake: buttered toast with jam or jelly

Keep off the grass: no lettuce

Foreign entanglements: plate of spaghetti

Mother and child reunion: chicken and egg sandwich

For more diner slang, click here Diner Lingo and remember to 

Check the ice: look at the pretty girl who just came in.

Bon Appétit