Spending The Hours - Part V

Spending The Hours - Part V

You wish you had a motor boat
To pose around the harbour bar
And when the sun goes off to bed
You hook it up behind the car

-Squeeze

Max followed me into the house.  I turned on the TV to find the Yankees were still playing.  I had forgotten they were on the west coast.  Max hopped onto the couch and curled up in his familiar spot.  The Yankees were always a big part of my summers.  As addressed in a previous blog, I no longer have my season tickets.  This reminisce would not be of going to the games, but of when they played weekdays during those past summer afternoons.  After the All Star break those days would be Wednesdays…and we took this opportunity to play hooky from work.  It was not to go to the Stadium, but to have a Boat Day.

My friend lived on a canal and his beautiful 30 foot Sea Ray would be our vessel.  Weekends were family time, but the weekdays were his.  Wednesdays would work on so many levels.  Not only would we have the Yankee game to look forward to, but also boaters were scarcer during the week.  He would have me scour the schedule for those 1:00pm games and our plans would be set.  Also, as mentioned before, he would rely on me over the local weatherman.  If I said we were good to go, we were.  Our makeshift crew would all have assigned tasks before arriving for our 10am departure.  Beer, ice, sandwiches, etc.  We packed the coffin-sized cooler as our captain prepared for launch.  As we pushed off the dock you could hear the first beer being opened.  Of course I could hear it, I was the one holding it!  But where to go?  Zach’s Bay, Kismet, Freeport…all perfect choices.  However this day, our destination would be Ocean Bay Park.

It was about an hour or so trip on Captain’s Pleasure.  Speeding along our thoughts were of all those poor suckers stuck at work…nice guys we are huh?  As we approached our destination the tie ropes where prepared.  We would dock by Flynn’s, Ocean Bay Park's most popular bar.  After the boat was secured, an auxiliary cooler was filled and off to the beach we went.  The water was crystal clear and the people far and few.  This was not like the old days when I had to take 2 buses just to get to an overcrowded Jones Beach.  We had room for paddleball and tossing the football in the surf.  It was almost like our own private paradise.  When the beer ran out we knew it was time to head back towards the boat.  Our first stop would be The Fire Island Hotel.  This was a little oasis in the middle of the island.  It contained a main building of rooms, rows of bungalows and a pool with a bar.  We stopped to have a beer and catch part of the Yankee game, but mostly to use the pool to wash away the day’s sand.  After an inning or two it was time to head to Flynn’s.  We would catch the rest of the Yankee game there and indulge ourselves in fresh fish.  The Yankees win….THEEEEE Yankees win (In all my stories the Yankees win) and we were off to the Schooner just up the road.  This bar opened up right to the bay with its own private beach and live music started at 4.  We would stay for a set or two and then head back to the boat…for there was still beer on the boat!

As we headed home we would zip into one of the canals.  My friend knew every bar in these water mazes and the people that were in them.  Boaters seem to have this connection that I will never understand.  As sunset drew close it was time to head home.  I give our captain credit, while at the helm he always drank in moderation.  But as we docked back at his house, he would proudly proclaim that finally he could REALLY drink.  We would wind down with a BBQ.  Good friends and good food looking back at our busy day.  One of those times we had settled around a large bucket sized citronella candle that was placed on the deck.  Each, for our own reason, got up…another beer, bathroom…etc.  And that was when it happened.  The candle, for lack of a better explanation, exploded.  Molten wax was strewn everywhere.  We counted our blessings that something had gotten us all to move only moments before.  Seems our Guardian Angels took that particular Boat Day with us.

I looked over at Max.  I was reminded that only recently Christina, Max and I had escaped a similar scare.  We were sitting at a fire pit at one of the wineries.  A loud pop and flames shot out like an erupting volcano.  Had we been on the other side of the fire pit we would not have escaped its fury.  As I thought of this, even though I am not a big believer, I just looked up and said thank you anyway.

As time wore on these day trips began to diminish.  Jobs changed and kids came…leaving less vacation and free time available.  Our Wednesday’s would eventually become like Skynyrd’s Tuesdays…

Gone with the wind.