who come by the bar at the marina where we left Scotty Ann to shoot his mouth off about most everything. He has a really sweet boat. About 45 or 50 feet. You can tell the boy has too much money on his hands. I think he is a lawyer or a sociopath from the vehement attacks on just about everyone and everything. I rather like him. You can make a comment and send him off on a tangent for 15 minutes.

Anyway, Moe got plain ass sick of being treated "like a chick or granny or something." I never understand her. Well, she went and got the inflatable globe that hangs in the boat and has our route with no discernible plan (there isn't one) and brought it over to the table.

She waited until he was talking about watch schedules and handed it around so he'd get the globe last. Then she said, why bother taking watches? Just wake your partner up when you get sleepy. Off he went: I swear he even said that any sailor with expedience knows that won't work. Moe responded that watch schedules are only necessary if there is a lazy person on the vessel. And away he went again, until . . .

The globe got to him. He actually stopped talking in mid-stream. He tried to cover by asking if Moe woke me to do sail changes. Moe's reply: Not until it gets up above 30 knots. Why should I?

Ya know - for the last few days before we went the guy bought Moe a drink every afternoon.

I told you I liked him. He took it like a man. Moe intimidated him. Of course, she kinda intimidates me too.

Grin