by Bob Kranich
Robert’s Best, (Part 6, Excerpt 91)
This is a new story. Robert’s Best is a sail boat. Grandfather Roberts is going to sail it on the Intercostal waterway from Texas to Key West, Florida. That will be an adventure. Then his grandchildren and their parents will come to Key West on a visit. There will be a lot of funny happenings until the criminals from a previous story get into action. A side note is that a 1935 antique Chris-Craft Model 557 Cabin Cruiser is going to play an important part in the rest of the story. Grandfather Roberts is on his trip to Key West, Florida in his sail boat via the Intercostal Waterway. Getting ready to start his second day.
Roberts’ Best
I woke up to the tune of my alarm. I had slept very well except for a couple of times when a boat went by too fast and it’s wake put my boat to rocking. I had coffee and breakfast just as the sky started to lighten announcing the start of my day. I motored back to the flashing green channel marker and made my turn. Now I needed to hold this bearing. I wanted to clip the south shore of Marsh Island, not run into it or miss it entirely!
I immediately lost sight of land. At the max I was probably six to seven miles out in the Gulf. This was new for me. At the end of the third hour I could see land fast coming up on my port side. I thought, I couldn’t be this close to Marsh Island so soon. I hastily consulted my charts and guide. No it was the forward part of Louisiana’s heel. You can see it on any map. Louisiana kind of resembles a pirate’s boot.
I kept my bearings but stayed out far enough to be clear of the shore waves. My maps told me on shore here was a wildlife area preserve, and it sure looked that way, no houses, piers, commercial buildings or any other signs. The interesting part was that the shore and sea birds were plentiful and beautiful.
During the fourth hour I was to keep my lookout for Marsh Island. It too appeared to be some kind of nature preserve. It was very green with huge flocks of birds. I was keeping off just enough and knew that I had about fourteen miles to the Lower Atchafalaya River channel markers.
There they were! It had been sixty-five miles, and I hit them right on the money! Thank You Lord! Then I realized I wouldn’t be the only one turning up the river. Here came a commercial fishing boat. I found out that Morgan City is home to hundreds of fishing and work boats.
I dropped sails and started my trusty two-cylinder diesel. This trip of meandering the ten miles up the Atchafalaya River was really educational. The channel was well-marked and I want to thank the Good Lord and Louisiana State. If it wasn't for the markers a boater could lose their way. There were bayous, canals, rivers, lakes, and all kinds of water highways coming and going! There is a complete maze of ways to travel by boat all across the southern part of Louisiana. All of this was fifteen miles inland from the Gulf.
I also had to keep out of the way of the fishing and work boats as they came and went. This is where my VHF radio came in handy, really essential. I kept it on whatever channel it seemed every captain was using. The boat captains would call me by boat name and keep me posted on just what they were going to do.
Just a sort distance from downtown Morgan City the Intercostal Waterway came into the Atchafalaya River, on my port side. You can’t miss the Morgan City waterfront because it has a huge concrete seawall to keep out the river’s floodwaters. They have painted Morgan City right on the wall in large letters.
Right at the spot the Intercostal Waterway leaves the river was the Morgan City Public Docks. They were right under the two highway bridge spans.
I backed the Roberts’ Best up right next to the dock. There were a series of pilings running along-side the dock. The dock looked like it would accommodate a boat of up to at least fifty feet. When one does this docking you need to put out fenders over the side so the fenders rub the dock and pilings instead of your boat.
I looked up. A man and a lady were lounging on deck chairs on a wide part of the pier. They looked about in their fifties. He was wearing a captain’s hat.
“Oh, hi, I’m new at this. Left Galveston two days ago. I haven’t been on the Intercostal before. Took the Gulf both days and came in from Sabine Pass this afternoon.”
“Hey! That was a good day’s sailing. We’re heading the way you’ve come from. But we’re just coasting along on the Waterway. Tell you what, we got in here last night, and we’ve been walking around the town today. We know a good Cajun eating place. Matter-of-fact, we’re just getting ready to go to the Cajun Kitchen. How about coming along? It’s only about a couple of blocks. By the way, I’m Jack Smith, and this is my wife and First Mate, Mary.”
“What a nice invite. I’m Tom Roberts. Nice to meet you both, Jack, Mary. I’m sure ready to eat some good Cajun food!”
On the walk over to the Cajun Kitchen, I found out Jack had a home construction business in Pensacola, Florida. They had left the business in their son-in-law’s hands and were on the second week of a month’s water-cruise vacation.
We walked into the Cajun Kitchen and guess what, a Cajun band was getting ready to rock the rafters. There was a small dance floor in front of the stage the band was on. The band consisted of two fiddles, an electric guitar, and a washboard man.* There was a lady up front with a microphone preparing to sing.
As we sat down at a table, she said, “We’re going to have a fais-dodo. So let’s dance!” The music started, but no one jumped up to dance.
“Stop the music!” she said, kind of loud. “We need some dancers. It’s easy. You, Sir,” she pointed at me.
“Me? Ma’am,” I said as I looked around for someone else she might be talking to.
She stepped off the stage, grabbed my hand and pulled me up. She was real pretty, so it didn’t take much pulling on her part.
“Now watch my feet. Left, right, left, kick with the right. Right, left, right, kick with the left, and repeat.”
The next thing I knew was, I was dancing, and the whole restaurant got up and did a fais-dodo.
After the dance, she said, “Thank you, Sir,” as she went back up on stage and began to sing and rock to their Cajun music.
My two new friends and I sat down and had some great shrimp gumbo.
On the way back to their boats, Jack started laughing, “Tom, I didn’t know what you were going to do at first when that Cajun beauty grabbed you.”
“Jack, I sure have got more than I expected on this trip. You know, it’s just started. I’m heading down to the Keys.”
On their way back to the boats, Jack said, “Tom, if you need anything when you get to the Pensacola area, just call us. Here is my card.”
Robert’s Best, (Part 6, Excerpt 91)
This is a new story. Robert’s Best is a sail boat. Grandfather Roberts is going to sail it on the Intercostal waterway from Texas to Key West, Florida. That will be an adventure. Then his grandchildren and their parents will come to Key West on a visit. There will be a lot of funny happenings until the criminals from a previous story get into action. A side note is that a 1935 antique Chris-Craft Model 557 Cabin Cruiser is going to play an important part in the rest of the story. Grandfather Roberts is on his trip to Key West, Florida in his sail boat via the Intercostal Waterway. Getting ready to start his second day.
Roberts’ Best
I woke up to the tune of my alarm. I had slept very well except for a couple of times when a boat went by too fast and it’s wake put my boat to rocking. I had coffee and breakfast just as the sky started to lighten announcing the start of my day. I motored back to the flashing green channel marker and made my turn. Now I needed to hold this bearing. I wanted to clip the south shore of Marsh Island, not run into it or miss it entirely!
I immediately lost sight of land. At the max I was probably six to seven miles out in the Gulf. This was new for me. At the end of the third hour I could see land fast coming up on my port side. I thought, I couldn’t be this close to Marsh Island so soon. I hastily consulted my charts and guide. No it was the forward part of Louisiana’s heel. You can see it on any map. Louisiana kind of resembles a pirate’s boot.
I kept my bearings but stayed out far enough to be clear of the shore waves. My maps told me on shore here was a wildlife area preserve, and it sure looked that way, no houses, piers, commercial buildings or any other signs. The interesting part was that the shore and sea birds were plentiful and beautiful.
During the fourth hour I was to keep my lookout for Marsh Island. It too appeared to be some kind of nature preserve. It was very green with huge flocks of birds. I was keeping off just enough and knew that I had about fourteen miles to the Lower Atchafalaya River channel markers.
There they were! It had been sixty-five miles, and I hit them right on the money! Thank You Lord! Then I realized I wouldn’t be the only one turning up the river. Here came a commercial fishing boat. I found out that Morgan City is home to hundreds of fishing and work boats.
I dropped sails and started my trusty two-cylinder diesel. This trip of meandering the ten miles up the Atchafalaya River was really educational. The channel was well-marked and I want to thank the Good Lord and Louisiana State. If it wasn't for the markers a boater could lose their way. There were bayous, canals, rivers, lakes, and all kinds of water highways coming and going! There is a complete maze of ways to travel by boat all across the southern part of Louisiana. All of this was fifteen miles inland from the Gulf.
I also had to keep out of the way of the fishing and work boats as they came and went. This is where my VHF radio came in handy, really essential. I kept it on whatever channel it seemed every captain was using. The boat captains would call me by boat name and keep me posted on just what they were going to do.
Just a sort distance from downtown Morgan City the Intercostal Waterway came into the Atchafalaya River, on my port side. You can’t miss the Morgan City waterfront because it has a huge concrete seawall to keep out the river’s floodwaters. They have painted Morgan City right on the wall in large letters.
Right at the spot the Intercostal Waterway leaves the river was the Morgan City Public Docks. They were right under the two highway bridge spans.
I backed the Roberts’ Best up right next to the dock. There were a series of pilings running along-side the dock. The dock looked like it would accommodate a boat of up to at least fifty feet. When one does this docking you need to put out fenders over the side so the fenders rub the dock and pilings instead of your boat.
I looked up. A man and a lady were lounging on deck chairs on a wide part of the pier. They looked about in their fifties. He was wearing a captain’s hat.
“Oh, hi, I’m new at this. Left Galveston two days ago. I haven’t been on the Intercostal before. Took the Gulf both days and came in from Sabine Pass this afternoon.”
“Hey! That was a good day’s sailing. We’re heading the way you’ve come from. But we’re just coasting along on the Waterway. Tell you what, we got in here last night, and we’ve been walking around the town today. We know a good Cajun eating place. Matter-of-fact, we’re just getting ready to go to the Cajun Kitchen. How about coming along? It’s only about a couple of blocks. By the way, I’m Jack Smith, and this is my wife and First Mate, Mary.”
“What a nice invite. I’m Tom Roberts. Nice to meet you both, Jack, Mary. I’m sure ready to eat some good Cajun food!”
On the walk over to the Cajun Kitchen, I found out Jack had a home construction business in Pensacola, Florida. They had left the business in their son-in-law’s hands and were on the second week of a month’s water-cruise vacation.
We walked into the Cajun Kitchen and guess what, a Cajun band was getting ready to rock the rafters. There was a small dance floor in front of the stage the band was on. The band consisted of two fiddles, an electric guitar, and a washboard man.* There was a lady up front with a microphone preparing to sing.
As we sat down at a table, she said, “We’re going to have a fais-dodo. So let’s dance!” The music started, but no one jumped up to dance.
“Stop the music!” she said, kind of loud. “We need some dancers. It’s easy. You, Sir,” she pointed at me.
“Me? Ma’am,” I said as I looked around for someone else she might be talking to.
She stepped off the stage, grabbed my hand and pulled me up. She was real pretty, so it didn’t take much pulling on her part.
“Now watch my feet. Left, right, left, kick with the right. Right, left, right, kick with the left, and repeat.”
The next thing I knew was, I was dancing, and the whole restaurant got up and did a fais-dodo.
After the dance, she said, “Thank you, Sir,” as she went back up on stage and began to sing and rock to their Cajun music.
My two new friends and I sat down and had some great shrimp gumbo.
On the way back to their boats, Jack started laughing, “Tom, I didn’t know what you were going to do at first when that Cajun beauty grabbed you.”
“Jack, I sure have got more than I expected on this trip. You know, it’s just started. I’m heading down to the Keys.”
On their way back to the boats, Jack said, “Tom, if you need anything when you get to the Pensacola area, just call us. Here is my card.”
From The Author:
My second full-length book , Florida Keys’ Watercolor Kapers is composed of 336 pages. There are 12 stories running from 6 pages to as many as 72 pages. It is fully illustrated with 88 watercolors and sketches. The watercolors I made roaming around Key West after I finished my 750 mile hike from Georgia to Key West. (See book or Don Browne’s SouthWest Florida Onlinw News records, A Walk Across Florida.) As you read these stories you will experience Key West, the Keys, and the Caribbean. These stories span the time of the early 1800’s to 1969. bkranich.wixsite.com/bobkranich
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