Anyone know what the statistic is on how many people have heart attacks or at the very least shit their pants on their birthdays? Without ready access to the internet, I may never know the answer to that question. Someone google that for me.
In case you wondering why I ask that question, we will need to rewind a few weeks. Back to July 4th. My birthday.
Our friends, Jason and Christy on thier boat Hello World had just made the trip down from Alaska, and met up with us in Port Hardy. We left the day after they arrived with plans to meet up again in a few days after they reprovisioned.
Me and Tawn went to an area called “God’s Pocket” to spend a few days and do some scuba diving.
I’m no expert in theological matters. In fact, if I could muster up enough of a shit to give, I think I would be classified as an atheist. So to say that my knowledge of God’s wardrobe is abit on the thin side, is a solid understatement. But as I understand it and from all the pictures I’ve seen, most Gods are usually wearing some sort of robe (not alot of pockets in those). Maybe they were refering to the one the Church of Scientoligy prays to. I think he had some sort of polyester jumpsuit? That has pockets. But “Ron L. Hubbard’s Pocket” does not have the same ring to it…wait, he was’nt the god. It’ started with a Z. Shit, someone google that for me too.
Anyway, scuba diving was awesome. blah, blah, fish, and seaweed everywhere…….
We leave Ron’s Pocket and head to a group of islands called the Walker Group to meet up with Jason and Christy. We had 3 routes to choose from to get to where they were anchored from where we where. I chose the shortest, which meant going through a very narrow entrance into the cove.
Our boat is twelve and half feet wide. The entrance was 45 feet wide. A bit of a following swell pushing us in. On the plus side, it was deep. So no worries there. That was sarcasm, in case you missed it.
We drop the sails outside the entrance and get our charts lined up and to double check……..stuff.
Immediatly after the entrance, we enter the tiny anchorage and see Jason and Christy standing in the cockpit of Hello World. Waving, shouting and Christy is hold up something.
I cannot hear what they are saying over the wind, waves and diesel engine.
What the fuck is she holding up? Is it a piece of paper? A book? It’s a book, a big book. Oh, is it a chart book….Oh, it’s a chart! She’s holding up a chart book…..FUCK!!…..she’s holding up a chart book and yelling…..and waving!!
SHIT!!
I almost increment the birthday heart attack/pant’s pooping statistic by one as I frantically check my depth meter, double/triple check my chart and look around at the water in my immediate vacinity waiting for the crunch of boat hitting rock.
It does not happen.
We motor closer to them and I see that the “chart” she is holding up is a big “Happy Birthday” sign. They are all smiles and waving.
“Yaay, thanks”
Let’s not post a picture of you burning those pants….mmmmkay?
CB your discription of your thoughts as you were pulling into the anchorage struck home-anyone who has ever sailed in unknown territory knows the fear of hearing that horrible scrapping sound from below the waterline. You certainly had our attention until the end and we both sighed with relief. Glad you had some others around to help you celebrate your b day