Wednesday 17 June 2020

Original plan was to make Beaufort, SC (pronounced Buoofert as opposed to the one in NC called Bofert), site of best mate Rich Bentley's plantation (it's not in Atlanta and there's no cotton, but it's white and has big porches) by tomorrow. As is not uncommon, Plan A has devolved into a skitter down the alphabet. Skin biopsy came back poopy (highly technical medical term) so we'll stop in Savannah to get offending area excised (it's taxing, but untaxed). Then, because of appointment with favorite guy for necessary dental work near St. Pete on Monday, we'll remain for easier flights to Tampa. Virus has made standby as good as positive space, although perhaps not a sufficient reason to sneeze on your neighbor. Probably make Tara by end of next week.

Due distance to and from Atlantic, although north wind has eased, we continue in the ditch - going up the inside you might say. This is somewhat like a colonoscopy, but more boring and less fun. Since country traveled through is savanna it's not surprising that a nearby city is named for it. A superfluous "h" was added at the end to prevent confusion. Among many good reasons for going outside is flies. They're the bitey horse variety. Although Jan has historically been "The Fly Slayer", both crew have now become proficient with the customary death-dealing device. For anyone inundated in a similar fashion, do not buy the plastic ones as they lack authority. Swatters with a stiff handle, usually of wire, is the go-to appliance for adequate lethality. With proper equipment, practice and just a modicum of hand/eye coordination you too can master this handy skill.

Among many good reasons for eschewing the ICW (Intracoastal Waterway) is that the government keeps finding new and more interesting ways to squander your tax dollars than keeping the thing dredged to a project depth of 3.6 meters, mean low water. We have firsthand knowledge as we sit dead center of channel stuck on the bottom with, as it continues down before going back up, an actual 1.7. We draw 2.1. May be planted for two hours until the Atlantic sloshes back in. It is wonderfully quiet here, but would have preferred setting the hook for the evening with toddy in hand by happy hour. Not to worry, tide will be rising for balance of today's journey and arrival still anticipated before dark.

Not all lollipops and roses as we're out of phone and data range with nothing better to do than write this stuff. However, reading is also an option so this will now get flushed out to an unsuspecting world via Iridium Go and Lee Child can continue reaping the benefits of his estimable efforts.

Jack & Jan