The Adventures of Green Eyes-- No Wonder We Bought a Nordic Tug

 

We bought a Nordic Tug for this Great Loop adventure because it is sturdy and reliable, not for it's genealogy. But the other day I got to thinking about how much the boat and Scott, who is also of Scandinavian descent, share the same characteristics; quiet, resilient, happy to spend hours or days at the dock or at anchor, more interested in functionality than ostentation, and more. 

Then the other day, Norm, a boat restorer in Titusville, Florida saw our ship's cat Pika (Pee-ka) for the first time and exclaimed, "She's so pretty! And big. Is she a Maine Coon?"  

"No," I answered. "She does have the tufts of fur between her toes characteristic of Maine Coons, but she's more fluffy than big. So while she's Maine Coon-ish, she's something else." 

 

But what is she? Since fostering and adopting Pika more than ten years ago, I've wondered about Pika's lineage. With time to kill on Green Eyes due to weather delays, I resolved to discover Pika's tribe. I began with a Google image search for "furry gray cat with tufted paws and ears and white bib with white blaze on nose" and up popped a photo of Pika! Well, not my Pika, but a definite match. I dug deeper into ear size (rounder than Maine Coon), face shape (triangular), profile (slight upturn of the nose), vocalization (Pika talks softly, and a lot), loyalty (so very loyal, she thinks she's a dog), and low and behold, it turns out Pika is of the breed Norwegian Forest Cat. Of course she is. It all makes sense now.  The Captain, the craft, the cat. They are all Scandinavian. 

 

Scott and the cat share many Scandinavian mannerisms. One is the blank stare. It is a stereotype that Scandinavians can be often caught staring at something or someone. But they may not even see what their eyes are fixated on. They are thinking about something else entirely. This make me nervous when we are underway.

Scott does 99% of the time at the helm. And he certainly appears to be watching the channel markers or oncoming traffic. But sometimes, he's really just staring into a void while thinking about skiing, or flying, or tracking wild animals in Africa, or any number of other interests. 

 

                                   Pika does the exact same thing. 

 

She has a routine each night where she sits on my lap for tummy rubs; contented, relaxed, and purring. Then at some random moment she suddenly rolls over and climbs off my lap as if she just remembered she is urgently needed elsewhere. She walks to the end of the couch, and either stands on her hind legs or sits on her haunches, and stares deeply into the corner for at least five minutes. She does this every night. Is she thinking about Fancy Feast? Playtime? Maybe she's thinking about tracking wild animals with Scott. 

 

Pika and Scott share other Scandinavian traits. Take dancing. As rare an activity in my Scott as it is in cats.

I once asked our Danish friend Lars if he had ever danced. "Oh yes," he said. "Every year I walk around the Christmas tree with my family." 

"Lars, that's not dancing."

"For a Dane it is," he asserted. 

Here is a video of Scandinavian dancing where the instructor actually says at one point, "Walking is not just walking. Walking is dancing."

 

Click to watch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zHih1aG44yM

 

Or click on this more exciting version:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqc1_08iq34

 

Scott may be a Scandinavian anomaly. At parties, he routinely seeks me out for all the slow dances, and he also does a fun cross between the jitterbug and the swing, only it's like a slow dance.

One of the fun things I like to do on the boat to pass the time during long crossings is Dance Off. I love to dance. If there is music playing, I can't stop myself. Scott has a terrific music mix on his phone, mostly the hits of the 70's. Most of it makes one get up off their chair and DANCE. Unless you're Scandinavian. 

Picture Scott at the helm, Pika across from me in her bed. I press play on Scott's Amazon Tunes. It's James Brown, Get Up Offa That Thing. Yow! "Dance off!" I exclaim while turning up the volume. I'm off my seat, shakin' my groove thing in the wheelhouse next to Scott. After a time, I strike a dance off pose, you know, like how Chris Pratt did in Guardians of the Galaxy. 

 

click on the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jaaJyAjvajo 

 

I point at Scott, "Take it down!" He stares ahead. I take it back but I'm still hopeful.  I point at Pika, "Hit it Peeks!" She yawns and stretches, then closes her eyes again. "Okay," I say, "then I'll go" and I'm the dancing queen, alone again, naturally. Suddenly I stare into the corner and think about Chris Pratt. A little drool falls onto my air mic. Then Thelma Houston sings Don't Leave Me This Way. Yow! I take up the Dance Off baton again. I sing directly to Pika and Scott. Then Barry White sings, You Are The First, The Last, My  Everything. I dedicate this Dance Off to the Crew of Green Eyes. I am singing and dancing to them. I give it my all. They stare. Scott reaches over to his iPhone. He selects Donna Summer's Last Dance.

Scott and Pika share other characteristics such as being cuddly, fun to be around, adventurous, and reliable. They make wonderful companions. And damn, they're soft on the eyes. 

I wouldn't trade my three Scandinavians for anything in the world.

    

Adventures of Green Eyes: Guns, Germs, and Keels

                                                        GUNS, GERMS, AND KEELS

      GUNS

     What do guns have to do with the Great Loop? Nothing. Except when there is a need to rent a car to run errands, sight see, or visit friends. Depending where you are when you need to rent a car, guns can affect your day. The first time was when we rented a car from Enterprise in Tennessee. 

     The great thing about Enterprise is that they will pick you up at the marina and take you to the office. On this occasion, Steven delivered us to the rental office then offered us a free upgrade from the cheapo economy option we had reserved. Steven was a recent graduate of Bible school who, upon being offered a job with Enterprise, broke up with his hometown girlfriend and moved to Chattanooga, Tennessee. He told us all about it during the drive to the office.

     "How would you like to have a convertible Camaro for the day?" he asked with a good-deed glow in his eyes. 

     Knowing this would probably be my only chance to have a free upgrade to a convertible Camaro in my life, I said, "Would I! Would I!" while doing my Happy Dance. But in Tennessee's humidity, it was more of a Happy Shuffle.

    Steven smiled. "I'll be right back. I just need to run it through the wash." As Steven disappeared through a side door, I whispered to Scott, "See? You always complain that I talk to everyone. But you know I enjoy connecting with people, right?" 

"Uh huh," said Scott. "You connected so much for such a short car ride."

      "Well, I think it made Steven feel good that I, a total stranger, affirmed his decision to break up with Beth and move away from his family, friends, and all he holds dear to begin a career with Enterprise Rent A Car in another state...." Steven returned and Scott rolled his eyes at me. 

     "I'm so sorry. I can't give you that car," Steven said with disappointment. "We found a gun in it so now we have to lock the car and call the police. Let's see... How about a small truck?"

     Had we heard right? "A GUN? Someone forgot to take their GUN out of their rental car?" Scott asked in disbelief.

     Steven chuckled. "I know, right? I would definitely remember if I had my gun with me. You wouldn't believe how much it happens. So, how about that truck?"

     "But, what if you hadn't found it?" I asked. "What if I found it while reclining the seat, or putting a map in the glove box, or wherever it is that people keep guns in a rental car? Or what if I didn't find it and then you found it when we returned the car? Then you'd think it was OUR GUN."

     "We search the cars thoroughly when we clean them. Like I said, it happens a lot."

     We took the truck, which was not one iota as much fun as a convertible Camaro.

     (When I told my Brooklyn comedy-writer niece Clare this story she responded, "Leave the gun, take the Camaro" which really made me wish I'd thought of that.)

     The second time it happened was in Alabama. When we arrived at the Enterprise desk, we told the story about the time that, but for a gun, I would have had a Camaro for a day. 

     "Oh my gosh! Isn't it just the weirdest thing?" Blond-haired, blue-eyed Kelly exclaimed. "I just moved here from San Diego, California and it was one of the first things they taught us in training. About the protocol when a gun is found, I mean.  It's mind boggling how many times we find a gun in the car when it's returned. I mean, I think I would remember if I had a GUN."

    GERMS

Tris with her niece Clare O'Kane

     Germs, of course, refers to Covid. Yes, we are still cruising in the time of Covid. But compared to last summer, since vaccinations have begun, things are a lot different on the Great Loop. We hardly see anyone wearing a mask. In New Jersey however, folks are still in the thick of it and mostly everyone masks up. I even got yelled at by a very grouchy harbormaster when I sat on a lounge chair next to the marina pool waiting for my laundry to finish drying in Cape May. 

     "You can't sit there. It's because of the Covid. We don't have time to disinfect the chairs after someone sits on them, ya know." I could tell he was tired. We're all tired. None of us has the energy to use one more damn Lysol Disinfecting Wipe on one more damn surface. But there is something other than Covid cleaning fatigue going on. The often uttered promises, "Boy, when I'm vaccinated, I'm going to hug EVERYONE. I'm going to see all my friends and family and all my friends' families too! I'm going to look up my old high school teachers and HUG them. I'm going to eat out every night in a RESTAURANT. I'm going to go to a BAR!" are falling a little flat. Gatherings seem subdued. Some people even seem a bit agoraphobic. We are not the social animals we were 18 months ago. Things have changed. We've changed. We've been through this thing, this global collective experience, and we should be changed by it. There's been lockdown. And loss. From my own unscientific observations of marinas and towns within a one mile walking distance of whichever slip Green Eyes is in for the night, people are taking the social hour in ten minute increments. Me too. I used to love nothing better than a party. Now, even the thought of socializing exhausts me. Talking makes me tired. Rearranging my face to affirm, "I am very interested in your story of how you dented your prop (your windy anchorage experience, the good Chinese buffet you found...") after a year of rolling out of bed and onto the couch to pet the cat and having no real need or energy in making my face or hair look polite, well, you try it. It's not that easy to go from lockdown to loquacious. I like staying home, be it ashore or afloat. I most love being with two beings; Scott and Pika. And my family. And friends. And Elephants. And well okay I pretty much love all beings. But quiet crosswords and kitties make me happy.

I've forgotten how to "pace myself." We recently attended a renowned annual three-day Looper Event which is an excuse for other folks doing the Great Loop to get together to drink and share stories. This particular multi day Looper Event was a Pig Roast at Donovan's Shady Harbor Marina in New Baltimore New York.  The pre-parties that led up to the main event -- bottomless mimosas with the Looper Ladies, happy hours, bocce ball competitions, rum and vodka tasting, boat tours, boat blessings-- were so exhausting and fun I couldn't even make it to the main event. No pork for me! I know I'll eventually get back into the swing of things. But it won't be like it was. And that's okay. 

Blessing of the boats.

     KEELS

     Keels. Boat keels. Although, officially, we have a hull, not a keel. Sailboats have keels. But I wanted to keep it alliterative, borrowing the title of this blog post from a book we are listening to as we cruise, Guns, Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond, which is an excellent book about everything or, "... the theory of geographic determinism, the idea that the differences between societies and societal development arise primarily from geographical causes." And no, we don't fall asleep at the helm while listening. Anyway, about keels. What I most like about keels, or hulls, is what's written on them. Ours says Green Eyes. We did not pick the name. But it suits us and it suits the boat well.

Unfortunately, the home port below the name reads Sabine Pass, Texas, which is where we bought the boat, but which does not suit us. We have our new home port decal, Santa Cruz, California, (chosen because it's the closest harbor to our home and it makes us feel like we are on a surfin' safari.) But getting the old letters off involves a heat gun and patience and last time I looked, neither of these can be found in the tool drawer on board. Did I say drawer? My husband, the Captain, sees our entire boat as a small tool shed. I still see it as a cozy cottage or a HDTV Tiny House. But there's always a screwdriver blocking my view. Back to keels. I like what's written on boats because it says something about the occupants. The word "knot" is used a lot. Knot on Call is owned by a retired doctor. Knot in a Hurry is owned by a couple who just finished the Loop in record time. Others are: Knot Too Late, Knot Working, Knot Bad, Knot Real, Moor Often Than Knot, Knot Shore, Knot For Sail, Why Knot, Knot Guilty... the list goes on. Or knot. Other whimsical names are Sea Senor, Cirrhosis of the River, Water You Lookin' At? and The Codfather. ( See how I fit two Godfather references in one post?)

     Except for that little El Toro sailboat we had for awhile that my niece Briget and I named Emilio, Scott and I have never named, or renamed a boat. We named our Land Rover, which lives in Africa, Ndoto because I am so annoyingly transparent. It's Swahili for Dream.

The first boat we had that we didn't name was a 40' Wharram catamaran. We owned it back in the early '80s when catamarans were considered weird. Her name when we bought her was Different Drummer, which suited us to a T. With Scott's brother Brian, Scott and I sailed her from Santa Cruz to Hawaii in 21-days, in younger and skinnier times. Like Green Eyes and Ndoto, she was simple, yet dependable, just the way we like my surroundings. 

And that's the news from the crew of Green Eyes, the 26' Nordic Tug that suits us three to a T. 

 

My new book is out!

 

     My third book, two short stories about traveling aboard the historic MV Liembe on Lake Tanganyika, and helping a small village build a footbridge in Zambia, is now available in print and eBook. It's currently the Kindle #1 new release in Southern African Travel!

 

     I know I've mentioned this before, but the greatest compliment you can give an author is a good review. If you read and enjoy these two uncommon stories set in Africa, I hope you consider reviewing Dancing Bridge on Amazon or on the website where you purchased the book.

 

 What's next?

   

    Our latest adventure is aboard a Nordic Tug named Green Eyes. On this tiny 26' boat, a crew of three (me, my husband, and the ship's cat, Pika) is circumnavigating America's Great Loop, a circumnavigation of the eastern U.S., and part of Canada.  The 6000 mile route includes the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway, the Hudson River, the Canadian Canals, the Great Lakes, the inland rivers, and the Gulf of Mexico to Florida. Wind, weather, tides, and currents dictate how long the trip will take, but for us, it will probably be two years. So far, we've completed around 1400 miles.

 

     In the meantime, I hope you enjoy being back in Africa with us on The Dancing Bridge of Kamunjoma.

 

 

The Great Loop Map by AGLCA

Be well,

Teresa

The Adventures of Green Eyes the Nordic Tug--Cruising in the Time of Covid. Chapter Five--The Great Scoop

             PHOTO, taken in Galveston Bay Texas the day we bought Green Eyes on January 31, 2020.

      I received a text from a friend today asking, "When will you start your trip?" 

     "We started in June!" I replied truthfully. But I understand her confusion. You see, we bought this boat specifically to do The Great Loop, a year-long, 6000 mile journey on North America's eastern lakes, rivers, and canals. Because it's a circle, you can begin anywhere on the Loop. In May, we didn't know when, where, or if we would start the Loop. When our county in California relaxed Covid travel restrictions on June 1st, we high-tailed it out of San Jose, California to Grand Traverse Bay Michigan, which was as good a place as any, with pandemic supplies, custom sheets for the boat, and our cat. 

     We launched Green Eyes in Traverse City. It would be a good springboard for the pristine waters of Georgian Bay, and The North Channel in Canada, our planned destination for summer 2020. Only, Covid and Canada saw things differently. The Canadian border is closed indefinitely. So, after pleasantly putzing around Northern Michigan-- from Suttons Bay and Northport, Leland and Pentwater,-- we made our way up the mitt to the villages of Charlevoix, Petoskey, and the especially picturesque Harbor Springs, where the rich and famous keep their yachts. We've loved so many of the towns we've docked in that in three we put down cash money to be put on a waiting list for a summer berth. The lists are twenty years long, and they aren't transferable, so that wasn't very well thought out given actuarial tables and all. Oh well.

     Each port has something unique to offer. Some have gigantic sand dunes, or dedicated bike lanes, or charming main streets. There's always a shop selling local ice cream or fudge or both. It wasn't long before we adopted a tag line to our Great Loop journey when, while I licked my fifth soft serve cone in ten days, Scott said, "I thought we were on The Great Loop. It's more like The Great Scoop." My personal taste leans towards soft serve ice cream. I've had soft serve in literally every stop so far. Always a single serving of vanilla on a cone (I mean, how can you adequately compare if you aren't having the exact same thing at every town?) After more than a dozen taste tests, "Frosties" in Greilickville near Traverse City wins. It's hands down the most perfect-tasting soft serve in a hundred mile radius. The luscious twist stands tall and keeps its shape. It doesn't melt too fast. The teen-age kids who work the walk-up window take my order quickly, then patiently pile the creamy goodness into the cone, as if they are making it for themselves, or for their best ice-cream-loving buddy. The entire cone (old-fashioned cake cone, of course) is filled from the bottom and they don't leave any empty space in the middle. Can you almost taste it? It's so good. 

     But there are other delicacies. It's cherry season so Farmers Markets, roadside farm stalls, and mom and pops offer cherry pies, cherry turnovers, cherry scones, even cherry-chicken salads. There is usually a big Cherry Festival in Traverse City, but the Coronavirus nixed that this year. It nixed the 43rd annual Wooden Boat Festival in Hessel too. The Charlevoix Venetian Festival was cancelled as well. Everything is cancelled. Not that we knew in advance about any of the festivals, but through our usual blithe luck, we unwittingly arrived at each of these ports on the very day the festival was to begin. I say we are lucky because in a normal year, we couldn't dream of getting a slip in a marina during a festival. They are just that popular in Michigan. It's a good news-bad news thing. We didn't get to see the festivals, but we did get to stay in the cool town. That is A-OK by me because I hate being in crowds, even without a pandemic.       

     Because of Covid, we have never had a problem getting a berth, even last minute, even in the most popular harbors, such as Charlevoix, or Harbor Springs. We were even able to stay at Mackinac (pronounced Mackinaw) Island for as long as we wanted. And we wanted. We rented cruiser bikes and rode around the entire island. We dined at the Grand Hotel and set a spell on the longest porch in America, 660 feet long. We walked, had soft serve, discovered Stauffers Ginger Snap Cookies (this is a bad thing because we eat them all the time now), and watched ferries come and go from the pier. We did everything on the pedestrian-only island except take a buggy ride. The horses looked exhausted, and, after you've taken a carriage ride in Central Park, what's the point of doing it anywhere else?

     With Canada closed, instead of staying strictly on the most common American Loop Route (down Lake Huron to the Erie canal and beyond), we've been exploring side trips such as the St. Mary's River and areas that are "Canada light." The Cheneaux Islands, a group of thirty-six small islands that abut the Canadian border (were we, or were we not, in Canadian waters for a lap of a wave or two?) has been our favorite place to drop the anchor or dock the boat so far. BIG favorite, as in it was hard to leave. It's not only a bird-watching paradise, the water is crystal clear, the small towns are laid back, and the pace is easy and slow. It reminds me of being on the Camino is Spain. Or in the Sixties. And the clouds. Oh my word, the clouds are right out of Heaven. Though we are quite far North, we haven't been lucky to see the Northern Lights yet, but the clouds, and the colors in the rainbows after a thunderstorm, have been truly spectacular.

     Anyway, cruising in the time of Covid has its weird advantages. We were able to get a same day table at the Culinary School in Hessel (fat chance of that in a "normal" year), and get a seat and a gin at the popular Distillery in Cedarville. Because all the attractions are closed, there are no crowds. The only time I am worried about being "out and about" during Covid, is when I use the marina bathrooms. But the young seasonal staff work hard to keep things disease free. The kids in the marina near Traverse City cleaned the bathrooms after every shower.

     Employees in grocery stores, gas stations, and restaurants up here in Northern Michigan seem to have taken this new normal in stride. But like Everyone Everywhere, they seem to be getting tired of it all--the extra work with the fewer tips, (because up to half the tables have been removed from restaurants.) The wiping down of shopping carts between customers. The sweaty masks. People in general seem tense. I think it's the uncertainty of it all. No matter where you are in the world, it's a very unsettled, very crappy time right now. But up here at least, Grace is given and received readily because, I guess, we realize we are all having this same weird, bad experience together.

     People have asked about Pika. She is doing fine. Though she still dislikes being underway, the three of us have developed a comfortable routine. She still purrs, and talks softly, and pedals her red bed as if she is kneading ginger snap dough. She likes to look out the windows, especially if there are dogs on a sailboat. We three love our cozy house on the water and feel lucky to be on a boat rather than stuck at home.

     Where are we now?

     We've rounded Michigan's mitt to Cheboygan, Rogers City, and Alpena. Due to thunderstorms, or high winds, sometimes fog, more days than not are "no gos." We sit by the marina pool, or bike to town for a soft serve, or undertake a new project on the boat. (Today's project is finding a better place to store our emergency back-up anchor.) The locals tell us it's an early fall. Brrrr. It feels like it. Many boaters are pulling their boats from the water for the winter. They'll have to wait for Memorial Day 2021 to boat again. 

     Soon, we will have to decide if we want to trailer Green Eyes to warmer climes to cruise a bit longer. We'll also need to decide where to leave her in late November to set us up well for continuing the Loop in the Spring. The possibilities are many. And with the actuarial table and all, we don't want to put off to later what we could and should do now. Do any of you feel the sense of urgency that I do?

     With or without Covid, we are very glad we bought a boat that can be trailer-ed so that we can pick up and go South. Not too far south though, on account of hurricane season and all.

      How are you coping with Covid? 

Stay safe,

      Scott and Tris, Green Eyes, August 26, 2020

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