Partying on C Dock

Yesterday was another quiet day on Drift Away. Pam worked on her tan and then went grocery shopping while I toiled away setting up a message board for a town I used to live in, something you wouldn't be interested in.  Around 3 o'clock or so, I took the dogs to the boat yard to play and romp, which they half heartedly did.  I think the sun and warmth makes them a bit lazy too,

I walked them back to the boat and passed Dick on C Dock who was trying to get his dinghy's outboard to start.  It seems it started and ran fine and he took it out for a spin, but it then cut out and he had to get towed back to the marina.  As guys do, he showed me that it wouldn't start by pulling on the outboard's cord and I responded with thoughtful scratching of my head and offering helpful advice such as "Huh.  That's strange.  Got gas?"

I then went down to our Boston Whaler and showed Dick how I can get the Evinrude to start but it won't stay running.  His advice was "Huh.  That's odd.  Check the sparkplugs?"

Since we were both working on our dinghies, we decided it was beer o'clock.  And then it started.  Next came Bill and he had a beer, and then Tom, and then Patty and Dan and Pat and Gene... and pretty soon all of C Dock was having happy three hours.  Pam cranked Jimmy Buffet on Drift Away's stereo.  We waved to Gary and Meridith, transients on the fuel dock, and they came over.  Then Brian, who works at the marina stopped by.  And then a boat named Miller Time came into the marina, Scott and... and... I forget her name off hand, but she was very pretty and her dog Huey was cute and they joined in.  It was party time on C Dock!

Talking with Scott, he said he just got a three month sabbatical from his job and Miller Time was headed to the Bahamas.   Scott also mentioned that every marina he's visited has a C Dock and a party crowd.  That's an astute observation.  Certainly that was true at our home marina, Seaview House in Stamford.  Actually, I think every dock there was a party dock. But along our way south, we were too late in the season and were usually the only boat on the dock so we had to make our own parties.  But now that we're here in Savannah and have stayed put for a month, I can say that it's true.  All the liveaboards congregate someplace around beer thirty and it's happy three hours, almost every day.

Pamela is trying to formalize things by organizing a pot luck dinner.  She even wants me to make some posters so she can post them and hand them out.  Happy three hours is turning into wo wo wo work.