I lay there in the dark, praying that a small wisp of fresh air will find it’s way down to my sweat-soaked face, into my lungs. It’s hot, the air is still and I feel like I’m trapped in some peculiar, v-shaped sauna with an assortment of sailing gear. Sweet Joe – anything, a single flap from a butterfly’s wing – please.
This sweltering nightmare of V-berth barbecue took place about 2:00 a.m. at Beer Can Island in Tampa Bay, Saturday June 20th. Along for this adventure was CannonBall and JackKnife, my devoted crew. They had both fallen asleep earlier in the cockpit watching a Rambo DVD JackKife smuggled aboard. I had gone below and figured the V-berth would be the most painful sleeping area, hoping to leave the more choice berths for the boys to divvy up. I was right about the painful part. Mariola was astonishingly hot down below, even though it was actually quite comfortable up on deck. I tried to sweat it out but couldn’t do it. Around 2:00 a.m. I grabbed my soggy pillow and headed topside, determined to sleep on any flat part of the deck. On my way I noticed JackKnife on the starboard settee so I was looking forward to a vacant cockpit seat. There was one! It was much cooler, but the unjustifiably named “cushions” are hard as a rock – not meant for a long-term prone position. The sleep process was: roll on side, sleep until numb, roll to other side, repeat. It’s amazing how long it takes the sun to come up when you are praying (weeping) for it.
Now, all this suffering could most likely have been avoided. About a month ago I bought a really nice 12v Endless Breeze Fan and have used it – the fan moves a lot of air and will run all night on Mariola’s dual batt bank. Problem is, it needs to be setup (taken out of the locker and plugged in) and it’s difficult to aim it on everybody. Mariola also came equipped with a windscoop. This, I had never attempted to setup until this night - not even unrolled it. Both of these anti-heat measures may have made it bearable down below – unfortunately there was no way to use them. The captain had been posioned. I’m not exactly sure who the evildoer was - it may have been both of them. I felt disoriented, staggering around, having trouble with my hand-eye coordination – those bastards. My margaritas were in no-way “virgin”. Double-crossed again. The sight of me and CannonBall on the bow, trying to stay on our feet, half-tangled up in an upside-down, inside-out windscoop must have given the other Beer Can overnighters a good laugh.
Beer Can Island (actual name is Pine Key) is an o.k. little drinking destination up near the Big Bend Power Plant in Tampa Bay. It was about a 5 hour sail from our homeport of Gulfport. The water was not the nice turquoise color you find out at Egmont and the crowd seemed a little more power-boat, power-drink oriented. Partner that with the every-10-minute-cargo-ship and you don’t feel as detached from the mainland as you hoped. I will probably not go back here, but it was still a fun exploration. Something that had to be experienced. Even though the forecast for the weekend was extreme heat, the air was breezy and comfortable out on Tampa Bay. We just need to figure out how to pump it down below – or make deck sleeping more comfortable. The best part on the way to Beer Can, sailing across the bay. We deployed Patches and drug behind the boat. The water was great and there was only one minor incident.
Live and learn, I’ll be more prepared next time, and more diligent when it comes to lime flavoured refreshments.
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{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
All that fun and no HOT soup to enjoy for dinner??? OMG it was super hot in orlando but a resort pool and a/c room was the relief for me. We’d pulled the boat for the summer the previous wknd and Kelli and i were both saying the timing was ideal if not a week or two late. Just too damned hot for any real fun. Margaritas only go just so far to numb my sense of reason for stewing in my own juices all night;)
Hawaii sounds like fun. Went to Maui for a sailing safari back in the 80’s. too much fun.
cya. M&K
when I was a boy there was no such thing as windows. We had to work outside just to cool off. When we got too hot, we had to jump into the stagnant cow trough to cool off. You kids these days don’t know hot. You know it’s hot when your sweat hits the ground it sizzles.
Now quite your whining girly boy and get me another beer.
I suppose in the winter you had to walk 10 miles to school in 4 ft. of snow. When were you born – 1920? You don’t need a beer – have some geritol ya old coot.
Not many of us will sail anywhere in the tropics without a bimini but I know a guy who’s sailed all over the place with only the thinning hair on his crusty old head to shade him. Come to think of it he kinda smells like an old cattle trough and surely being incoherent from heat stroke claims there’s no blazin’ day he’s seen down here that’ll compare to the fire and brimstone of the good ‘ol days(or was that daze) back in the “show me”(what a bimini is) state. My hat’s off to him while I rest my remote finger and get up from the helm of my lazy-boy to head toward the frig for another cold one.
I really need a beer dispenser in the arm of my summer time captains chair…..I’m exhausted from walking back and forth.
Yea, keep your stuffy snob self away from Beer Can. We have fun here and don’t need you looking down at us. fuck off.
Hey Duke,
I certainly don’t think I’m better than anybody else, trust me on that one. Just thought for the 5 hours it took to get there, I was a little bummed about all the cargo boat traffic and view of the powerplant. Keep on havin’ fun – that’s what it’s all about.
e
test
Rumhead you snobby sailor you!
You know me, my nose is so high in the air I can't read the compass.