Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four
Day 3, Ducks in a line stay together!
We woke up and I was refreshed. Bill’s boat had a leak so he woke up wet and cranky. It would later turn out my boat was the only one that stayed watertight the whole way. So Day 3 is the day were we have to hit a ton of different, very narrow passes. We want to go the “hard way” and save some miles. It is agreed that Chuck the Duck will be our fearless navigator. So we all set sail sharply at 6:30 because Chuck the Duck says Michael Jackson is taking some time to get ready. We head out of the pass and Michael is still taking some time. So those of us in the front spill some wind this way and that. Finally, we are all off sharply at 7am! We play slap the buoys after we get past the bridge. We ask Josh Colvin if this is something they teach at the SCA small boats sailing classes they have. He says no. But he is playing AS WELL!
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Heading out day 3 and about to slap some buoy! |
We finally got out into the open and set across yet another small bay and meet up before the run down the shipping channel where the ferries pass through. We decide we will do this run all together as group. We get all together and start heading down. We tell the ferry captains what’s about to happen over the radio and low and behold they actually stop for 5 minutes to let us pass. As we approach a small little fishing boat pulls up with a bagpipe player wailing away and, I kid you not, escorts us through the gauntlet of ferry’s. It was straight out of Brave Heart! We finally get across and land on a beach to let everyone regroup. Then we set sail together again and head for MORE passes. This was, overall, the best day yet for camaraderie.
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Duck on Duck action here. Our fearless Navigator led the way through the Ferrys. |
We jumped in and kept going to Paul’s Mott. We pulled in and found a spot at the Mott. A guy past around a bottle of moonshine and we all got very drunk. I threw out a tarp I borrowed from the Votow’s and Josh and I slept under the stars.
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Our “grocery carts” at Paul's Mott. |
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My father hitting the 'shine. In the background you can see me thinking that we are the universe contemplating itself. That stuff was strong... |
Day 4, Full ramming speed gentlemen!
We actually stick together this day, the closest we ever have. Those in front regularly stop and beat up wind and take up positions in the rear knowing they will catch up the slower boats and pass them again. I do it at least 3 times before we hit the passes. The passes are said to be about 3 feet wide and lined on either side by oyster beds, sharks, and horrible nasty things. So we stay in a line of 13 boats. IT WAS AWESOME, and very, very hard to maintain. We roughly lined up in order of speed. There were maybe 20 turns to be made. We did them all in line and perfectly with no wayward children. A feat that will be remembered though the ages.
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Sailing in a line. This was a lot harder than it sounds. Especially since we are all pig headed. |
At one point we head through Ayers Reef. This is a notorious bad point that has broken a lot of past boats and many a sailor’s soul. We head across the bay towards Ayers and Chuck says we have to head south first so we sail for no reason south for an hour and then back north. Andy points out there is no point in doing this but Chuck is convinced. Also its fun. Its like riding a washing machine and we are moving so fine. Short step tumblers of waves hit us head on. We get to the pass and pull off to regroup. I am tired and sour at this point and had just cut my feet pretty badly on an oyster reef. Bill was getting his boat ready to go when the boat started to float off the side of the reef. He grabbed the boat then the sail caught wind and the sheet caught on Bills life jacket pulling him into the channel and sailing with him being dragged behind next to the rudder. We all laugh as humans are want to do when we see others in misfortune. Bill is able to get to the other side and rescue himself. No one had a camera ready so no photographic evidence remains of this.
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John Goodman's Chevy Duck is a work of art. |
We again wanted to stay together, especially because we wanted to take one of the southern passes so we could get across San Antonio bay into Army Hole without having to beat into those heavy rollers. We sailed, and sailed. Then we sailed some more. We took shallow water and Sean split off from us and took his own way. Blue dog stayed with us 13 ducks. We finally get to the place we think the pass is and we all, despite trying to stay together, end up going three different ways.
Chuck, Bill, and some others found the actual pass we were trying to take. Blue Dog and some others found another pass slightly south. And Andy, Jason, Josh, John Goodman and I went to south pass lake. The place that everyone said that under no condition we should go. We didn’t mean to. But there we were faced with Storks standing in front of us where we wanted to go. I think Jason said storks are really tall. Josh said, “Well, what do we do? Do we try to beat back up to one of the other passes?” I said, “Assume ramming speed gentleman!” and so we went as far as we could onto the sand bar. Then hopped out and dragged the boats over to the channel. We ended up farther along than all the other boats because we were so much farther south. Josh had just had his mind blown. He would never have considered the fact that since we were in such small boats, we could do whatever we wanted. Only 3 inches of water? No problem in a duck. We totally changed both Josh’s and Sean’s total lookout on small boats and their rigs. And the definition of what a beautiful boat is. They went on and on about it. Both of them are really big in the boating world so it was nice to make them converts to the smaller is better cause!
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Dragging the ducks is fairly easy. When in doubt ram her up there and walk! Especially if you see storks standing; they have long legs don't you know. |
We regrouped and headed into Army Hole. Until our group of 13 made it to Army Hole that day, only two other PDRs had ever accomplished this feat. When we pulled in we were the last to get there. And all the best spots had been taken. Bastards. But Kevin Green made us sausage and we drank the last of the alcohol. We joked and talked. I convinced Josh we should setup the tent tonight, even though we had been sleeping under the stars the whole week. I said there were fire ants and critters everywhere on this God-forsaken island so we should be in a tent. We didn’t put up the rain fly though. The next day was going to be the “Easiest day” they said. We just fly down with the wind at our backs, they said. “they said” a lot of things. Tonight will be sweet and lovely they promised.
At around 3am I woke up as Josh got out of the tent. I assumed to use the bathroom. Which was true. But 5 minutes later he came back and got his camera and walked away. I was curious and had to pee too so I got up. There was a Lighting Storm heading towards us. Very Large. Very bright. Strikes every 5 seconds or less. It was getting closer and closer so I put the rain fly up in haste before it started pelting down on us. Then it hit. The tent was sideways trying to crush us. It passed in about 20 minutes but it was scary. At this point it was well after 4am and we got no more sleep.
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