Well, the boat project is nearly done. It is Patton’s First Law of Boat Repair, or almost any project really, that if it is possible to buy the wrong part, the wrong part will be bought. The first corollary to Patton’s first law is that you will not discover you’ve bought the wrong part until the store where it was purchased is closed, or the packaging is destroyed. Fortunately, I can still take it back.
“It” is the actual live well pump that I didn’t want to replace in the first place. But they come with a 1/4″ discharge, or a 1/2″ discharge. I bought the former. I need the latter. But it’ll be worth it to have the system up and running.
We did get the through-hull and sea cock installed, so the boat’s actually usable with the sea cock closed. But I want the deck wash and live well to operate, so it’s back to West Marine. I’m thinking Saturday, we’ll have it all done.
But, in the immortal words of Arlo Guthrie in “Alice’s Restaurant“, I told you that story to tell you this one.
Driving home along the river, with the sun setting, I saw a container ship making her way downstream to the ocean. With the sun low on the horizon, and my camera in the trunk, I couldn’t resist the opportunity. After assuring Tim, who was behind me, that I was fine … I started shooting.
I think it may be the UV/Haze filter that made the sun appear oblong. It sort of looks like the exploding Death Star on the re-mastered Star Wars. But the light on the water and the ship in the river made for some spectacular shots.
I love this time of the day, and I’m rarely up near Mayport at sunset. The river has so many moods, and tonight’s was calm.
It’s difficult to describe the river at sunset. The container ships glide past nearly silently, often throwing just a minimal wake. I’m often amazed when I pass one of these surface-dwelling leviathans on my boat how little wake they push. Usually once they pass, you can hear a gentle low rumble of engines capable of moving tens of tons of ship and cargo through the water. The ships have a mystique about them, symbolizing not only commerce and an economic engine that some say will drive our local economy for the next several years … but the freedom of slowly traveling … somewhere. Mark Twain became fascinated by steamboats in part because they made their way up and down the river, and symbolized a lifestyle that has great appeal to those afflicted with wanderlust to this day. Twain eventually sailed around the world on a steamship, and wrote the book “Following the Equator”.
A pelican had settled on the water for a brief rest, and didn’t really wanted to hang around for me to take his picture. The sun continued to settle below the far shore of the river, and I felt privileged to be allowed to see it. We don’t stop often enough to appreciate it, in my humble opinion. I’m hope that where ever you’re reading this blog, there is somewhere that you can go to experience some of those same feelings I had this evening. And even if you think “nah, not around here”, go look. I’ll bet you’ll find it.
Pictures are all linked up on Flickr.