Stuffe...

[Riley Smith]

The lower Pascagoula river is made for S R Cat and is a favorite place to sail. Basically, because it is close and beautiful. Just above Highway 90, the river swings by Krebs Lake that butts up against the north part of Pascagoula, called Lake Avenue for obvious reasons. The ramp is next to the Krebs-LaMotte House ( or Old Spanish Fort as locals call it) and adjacent to one of the oldest cemeteries in the city; ancient crypts and headstones scattered in the shade of live oaks. We got married on the front lawn of the old fort so long ago. It must have been meant to be because we were putting out chairs for the event and the sky was black and it was coming a tornado several miles upriver. Never rained a drop there.

 A sea of marsh grass, islands, sand bars, bayous and an occasional tree extend northwards to I-10, where the edge of the hardwood forest begins. And from the ramp it is only a short jaunt west to the point at which the river breaks out from the marsh and makes the southward plunge through shipyards and docks to the Gulf. Big fish off that point. There is a narrow cut between the river and the lake and a few days ago we threaded the needle there under sail, headed back to the dock. It cuts off almost a mile of sailing.

When we arrived to launch the bass sled Monday, there was a nice old man and his wife crabbing. The accent spoke of New Orleans/Biloxi and her aged beauty spoke of the French. We apologized for disrupting while launching, but they didn't care, and set their bait further down the pier and then resumed station in their folding chairs. It's a nice view upriver, and Monday we followed, and then passed, two refurbished menhaden boats coming from the facility upriver as we were returning. They were slowly headed south, not a speck of rust showing on them before the hard work of life as a workboat puts it's scars on. My brother slid the bass sled around them and then cut back into the lake once we were past the point. It's a very nice bass sled. The nice old man and his wife were curious as to our fortunes as we returned. They had caught crabs and we were empty handed.

Sonya is having mobility troubles and the bass sled was much better than the sailboat. She's not all that interested anymore in the thrill of being on the wind and the associated preparations necessary to secure such a venture.  The bass sled was a whole lot easier for her. Ah, well, life changes and we change as well. I know I'm not the person I was only twenty years ago in mind nor body. There's that age thing, which most of us are already experiencing, and has been a topic lately.

And so things change, and I'm home on a workday, out on medical. I've had some blood pressure problems and now the disc in my neck that I have lived with for so long is demanding a resolution.  Sleep is a fight and the background pain is no longer background. I had warned the powers that be it was coming but they didn't listen and I didn't/don't care. I relay this information in context, not out of seeking sympathy. It is an integral part of becoming old and a channel marker in the stream of life. Others may be secretive about their lives but I feel that unless you reveal who you are in your writing, you're just another voice in a cacophony.

It's those moments with Sonya and I on the water or wherever we are that I live for, feeling the sun and wind. You can't imagine how fine it is to have her on the tiller and the sail in the sky. Or sitting looking over the water from the porch of the Labrott House. But the tide has changed and there is no power on earth that can oppose that massive force, and so it is much better to work with it than against. A new course, we have tacked and there's a different heading. Adjust the sheet and trim the weight and we'll head for that island where the pina coladas never run out. A motorboat? We'll see. The sailboat is mine, so maybe she needs her own boat. Right now, I'm reviewing crew resumes 

[Riley Smith]

I've been going through pics....was actually planning to populate the above story with pictures but somewhere along the line I got sidetracked into cleaning the photos out. I have a LOT of photos.

 So I ran across this one in particular that has a story. All of them have a story for sure, but this is at the Labrot House at 4am one morning.

Sandy had passed away and the boys were here to pay their respects. We all stayed in the old house. Needless to say, that was a difficult time, as the boys came to say goodbye to someone they hardly knew, and I was forced into remembering.
 We were all tired out from the travel, preps, interactions, and going. and fell asleep in the old house early. THe girls had come to visit. too. After all, we were all family, despite before. Eventually, I awakened to the sound of thunder coming from Biloxi and getting closer. I lay for a bit and listened as it approached across the water and got closer and closer.

So, I decided that I even though I have seen almost everything  weather related here, dark-thirty lightening strikes on the gulf were pretty exciting and magnificent. So, I climbed out of bed wandered out on the porch. Thank goodness I had enough sense to wear clothes as everyone ELSE in the house was sitting there watching the lightning flashes come closer and closer. And finally it was upon us.....

yeah, not much of this is about boats. It's about those things that make the boats go. And no, that ain't the sail...

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