We had a pretty good trip from Vero. We stopped for gas in Tamarac and mom realized that you're not supposed to drive trucks with brand new rear ends on the highway until they get broken in. Oh, and you're not supposed to pull a trailer either! We stopped again in Florida City for food. Wendy's. There was a girl with a sign that said the was homeless and I told mom to give her the left over french fries but she didn't! I should have done something about that.
Apparently Sailor got excited when we hit the Card Sound Cutoff and he got really excited when we crossed the toll bridge. Sailor was at the apartment when dad & I were rolling up in the boat (just ahead of a fierce storm) and he spotted the Escapade from way far away. He was so happy to get on the boat. Apparently he wanted to go swimming when I hopped in the water for the first time.
After the fierce (but short lived) storm passed, we decided to go have a look around. I jumped in and saw a bunch of lobsters so small that they weren't even worth tickling. The first decent lobster I saw was a big boy in a hole with other potential keepers. It was shallow enough that I decided he was mine. I waited at the surface to catch my breath and planned my approach. I got one of the smaller ones away from him without disturbing him, then surfaced for air. On the next descent, I tickled him just where I wanted him, got him in the center of the net, tapped him, and I dropped my tickle stick when he swam back into the net so I grab him with my right hand. I didn't have a catch bag since I was just scouting so I had to call the boat over. We threw him in the boat in the net. I was NOT going to risk losing that one. I got a catch bag and dad hopped in the water. We got 6 more (3 each!) before it started getting too dark to see without diving down. I was able to kick myself up into the boat without hurting my wrist. No ladder needed for me this year!
We came back and got a picture of my big lobster. Hopefully that's an omen for how the lobsters are going to be on this trip. I then decided to run. Changed clothes, put on the Green-Layer 100% polyester (recycled??) jersey and went for an hour long run which turned into a 40 minute run due to excessive amounts of lightning mixed with a need to poop. It was a nice run, though at a good pace and taking me places I don't believe I've ever been before.
After the run, I showered and got out just in time for dinner. Ate a big plate of spaghetti & meat sauce with garlic bread. After that, I was pretty tired and ready for bed around 10pm. I had actually told mom goodnight and she asked me to see if Dillon would take Sailor out to do his doggy business. I couldn't find my brother, so I decided I'd do it. Before I went out mom asked me for a flashlight that I brought. She then told me that dad needs it. I took the dog and the flashlight out. Turns out that dad found a CRACK in the HULL of the boat! He was just checking the mooring lines to make sure there was enough slack for low tide and then heard the bilge pump run. Thinking that there's no good reason for it to kick on, he decided to see if something was the matter. Sure enough...crack in the hull. You can see the water trickling in. We waited around to see how long it would take before the pump had to kick on again. It was about 35-40 minutes. During that time I was chewing some gum to use to stick in the crack. That seemed to help it a little tiny bit. We need to patch the fiberglass...but it's in a really inconvenient spot. OK, maybe not the worst spot, but not a great place for a crack in the hull either. At least it's tiny. Assuming that the battery doesn't die and the bilge pump can do its job overnight, we're going to spread Uncle Mark's ashes at the butt crack of dawn. He always used to wake us up at least an hour before we wanted to get up. Sometimes he'd go out with my dad and come back before the rest of us were up. Anyway, after the spreading, we have a special treat planned. My mom wanted to put him (or part of his ashes) in a special place under the sea. She was trying to think of what she could use as a container that wouldn't float and would hold the ashes pretty well. She wanted to use a film container, but I assured her it would float if there was ANY air in there. She said someone told her to drill holes in the container to keep it from floating but I pointed out that the ashes would escape too. I decided that we should put him in a bullet. My dad's got reloading stuff, so we took an empty .303 British shell and filled it with Uncle Mark's ashes instead of black powder then put on the tip. It will sink and hopefully stay in the same spot for a while. Maybe mom can come back and see it in a year or 2. The only thing that could make that a problem is if a curious diver catches a glimpse of it and takes it out of the hole. The spreading ceremony tomorrow will happen one year to the day after part of Uncle Mark was buried up in Virginia.
So much for going to bed early.