Latitudes With Attitude, Chapter 9
Friday, June 23 Anchored in Key West Harbor
It’s a brilliant morning; the sun is rising quickly in a sky nearly devoid of clouds, the boat rocking gently in the harbor. It’s quite a contrast to last night, which was marked by severe thunderstorms and rain, punctuated by a lightning strike nearby.
After dinner, we sat around the boat. While the guys played cards, I read a magazine, called Kathie and later Don. I told him some of the highlights of the trip thus far and wished him safe travels on the high adventure trip to Maine.
Spaz baked a delicious pineapple upside-down cake, made with Bisquick. Not a piece was left, so I think everyone else enjoyed theirs as much as I did mine.
As the crew prepared for bed—about an hour and a half after I had turned in—Mike dropped one of the galvanized steel pipes used to make the berths. The pipe knocked over Charlie’s floor fan as it crashed to the deck. Following that commotion, I heard a sound like a fuse burning, followed nanoseconds later by a huge flash and a simultaneous roaring thunderclap. I don’t recall ever having been so close to a lightning strike.
Charlie has suggested that we head back toward New Found Harbor today, part of the eventual return home. It’s Friday and will be our last full day at sea. Even though we will sleep on the Wyvern for two more nights, tomorrow we will probably be tied up back at Faro Blanco Marina.
It’s a brilliant morning; the sun is rising quickly in a sky nearly devoid of clouds, the boat rocking gently in the harbor. It’s quite a contrast to last night, which was marked by severe thunderstorms and rain, punctuated by a lightning strike nearby.
After dinner, we sat around the boat. While the guys played cards, I read a magazine, called Kathie and later Don. I told him some of the highlights of the trip thus far and wished him safe travels on the high adventure trip to Maine.
Spaz baked a delicious pineapple upside-down cake, made with Bisquick. Not a piece was left, so I think everyone else enjoyed theirs as much as I did mine.
As the crew prepared for bed—about an hour and a half after I had turned in—Mike dropped one of the galvanized steel pipes used to make the berths. The pipe knocked over Charlie’s floor fan as it crashed to the deck. Following that commotion, I heard a sound like a fuse burning, followed nanoseconds later by a huge flash and a simultaneous roaring thunderclap. I don’t recall ever having been so close to a lightning strike.
Charlie has suggested that we head back toward New Found Harbor today, part of the eventual return home. It’s Friday and will be our last full day at sea. Even though we will sleep on the Wyvern for two more nights, tomorrow we will probably be tied up back at Faro Blanco Marina.
posted by Joe Wollet at 8:51 AM
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