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Cruising
Florida’s waterways and the awesome Atlantic Ocean can be a magnificent,
multicultural event, or it can be a nautical nightmare. Through
very thorough observations, actually sharing a meal with some
of these individuals, and being a boatowner myself, I have been
able to categorize this amazing array of flotilla and have determined
that the size and shape of a boat will indicate what the owner
has for lunch. After reading this Guide you will be able to navigate
not only the lunch you like but life itself and both will be a
lot less threatening. Here then is my unbiased personal view of
boaters and what to expect should an invitation present itself.
Historically,
sailors, specifically those who allow the wind to move their boats,
have had more novels written about them than any other boater.
Eulogized by Hermann Melville, Ernest Hemingway and Sterling Hayden,
they are sometimes perceived by others - and themselves as well
- to be the intellectuals of the seas. Contemporary sailboat owners
say that they are deeply concerned with world ecology and often
use this as their excuse to forge their primitive instincts against
the basic elements of nature without benefit of fuel. To perpetuate
their well-established profile, sailboat owners peruse at least
one newspaper daily, subscribe to New Zealand Boat Builders
and read 4.5 novels per year.
Lunch
will involve docking at a moderate restaurant and ordering sensible
food. Sailboat owners may appear to be smoking a pipe, but don’t.
They do, however, order dark ale in chilled mugs, discuss chess
matches in quiet tones, and try to conceal the fact that they
feel superior to other boaters particularly if their boat is more
than 30 feet in length. Almost all boat owners will want a table
with a view of their own boat, and the closer the better. This
behavior did baffle me I admit, until I bought my own boat. It
is one of those mystifying secrets of the sea, I suppose.
Sailboat
owners also drive intelligent cars such as Volvos, and their homes
are furnished with "good" pieces which they have recovered about
every 30 years. Naturally, they send their children to sailing
camps in the Pocanos every summer. Touching their trimmed beards,
they fantasize about quitting their jobs and sailing around the
world forever, but don’t. They give idyllic, sweet names to their
boats after women lost in tragic love affair.
Another
class of boaters found along the waterways are the offshore powerboat
racers. Neon graphics with names like "Avenger", "Double Down
Devil" and "Killer" will identify the powerboat owner. This boat
owner often confuses the word ecology for economy, if they think
of either word at all, but like sailors, they also love to forge
their primitive instincts against the forces of nature and this
occupies most of their minds most of the time. The quest for winning
has long ago replaced any form of reason, and running out of fuel
is the worse nightmare they can imagine. It is best to avoid any
comments about endangered manatees or mangrove trees. Offshore
racers read the sports section of the Daily News only if
race details are given. Their dream is to win the Key West Offshore
World Championship race as they think the United States is the
world.
It
is an excellent idea to eat something before lunch, as this is
the most difficult time for powerboat owners. Usually they rely
on the enormous roar of their engines to preclude any conversations
and prevent embarrassing moments of having nothing to say, so
stopping for lunch will involve gunning the boat into the dock
of a smart upscale restaurant, revving the engines for one half
hour and leaving with as much wake and fumes as possible.
A
trip to their homes will reveal a Corvette parked in the driveway
for which they pay 1.2 million dollars to insure as vehicle and
life insurance are considered very worthwhile expenditures. The
decor found in powerboat owners’ homes will include a giant screen,
matte-black TV with one thousand channels. Occasionally they have
children who play Nintendos and Ataris in another room. The ancient
practice of naming a ship after a woman is much too confusing
for a racer, as girlfriends come and go at a fairly rapid rate.
Like sailboat owners, racers don’t smoke as this is perceived
as "old" which is perceived as a bad thing. I was not able to
discern why they name the models of their racing boats "Cigarettes",
so again, this is another mystery of the sea..
The
Yachtsman comprises my third category of boaters. Yachtsmen typically
appear to be emotionally secure and have nothing to prove, either
to nature or others, and through careful over-education have neatly
repressed their primitive instincts. World economy and ecological
concerns share equal space in their mentalities, and sizable checks
are written yearly to Greenspeace which alleviates any
guilt resulting from the consumption of fuel by at least two engines
and one generator which power ice makers and several air conditioning
units. Carefully placed on glowing teak-top tables are copies
of The Wall Street Journal and John Rewald’s The History
of Impressionism. Yacht owners read approximately 5, 234 stock
and annual reports per year.
A
favorite luncheon is one on board with a variety of people invited
who hopefully will forestall boredom. One can look forward to
cold lobster salads on most occasions and the smell of illegal
Cuban cigar smoke. Yachtsmen stock their galleys with San Peligrino
bottled water, but may occasionally have a scotch before lunch.
This
ocean-going boater is not overly concerned with the vehicle he
or she drives, but usually own Land Rovers and older Cadillacs
which are paid for. Boca Raton decorators decide an acceptable
decor for their homes. Their children are rarely seen as they
are at boarding school or university studying corporate law and
how to be in a position to buy their own yachts. The names of
their yachts are never changed from the moment of the ship’s christening.
If this well adhered-to taboo for large boat owners were ignored,
it would curse their owners to bad luck forever after. Since romance
is rarely allowed to interfere with a yachtsman’s overall sense
of well being, not being able to name their yachts only mildly
affects their ego, but may occasionally force them to have their
own yachts built.
Sitting
here aboard my tugboat, I am quite pleased to produce this edifying
piece of information for boaters everywhere, scant as it is. I
could go on and on with further enlightenment for my kind reader,
but now I must make a sincere attempt to repair my rusty bilge
pump so that I don’t sink into the sea altogether. The strong
smelling squid I had planned to turn into succulent calamari must
wait for another day. Be sure to read next month’s edition of
my Guide: "Rafting with the Mambo Kings of Cuba", "Good Ole Boy
Fishermen I Have Known" and "Steerage Can Be Swell".
Another
in a Series of "My Miami", or "Why I Love The Gunshine State"..by
boomer.com
(an
alias so that I will be able to continue to eat lunch in this
town).
Care
to read Queen
of the Alley?
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