Lucy and I recently added some wear and tear on our teak and holley decks as we “cut a rug”. Today, these words may mean something else but, in my day they meant dancing well or tearing it up on the dance floor. Now picture this scene. A little earlier we cleared the breakwaters of Marina Del Rey, California. Visibility was no better than say 1/2 mile to 3/4 mile on account of fog. With all radar blips accounted for and the autopilot safely navigating us to the next way point we are suddenly somewhat abeam to some rolling swells.
This is when I first notice this rather large collection of music CD’s just lying there. The first CD I randomly insert into the player; the album name now escapes me but, the music is Spanish, the song a classic bolero. With music now higher than the voices on the radios VHF, channel 16, and the twins (loudly) below propelling us forward, I start to feel a little rhythm in my limbs. As I begin to sway to and fro; I notice Lucy doing the same thing, hey I say, people aren’t the only ones who’ve got rhythm.
Lucy the chocolate lab now views this as a sign to go fetch her newly found tennis ball. She is bobbing her head, sucking on this bright yellow tennis ball which she has already punctured; I swear those huge web like dog feet are trying to keep tune with the music now playing.
Lucky for me I could translate the words. I then pick up the CD’s album write up and notice that this bolero is composed by Isolina Carillo, born in 1907 and the song, written in the 1930’s. The great Cuban singer and bandleader Antonio Mackin had great success with this song in the 1940’s. Mackin died in Seville in 1995, and Campay Segundo played the song at his funeral. It also said he sprinkled rum on his resting place as a tribute to the great bandleader. I wondered if it was Cuban rum and suddenly felt a little teary eyed. What a great tribute; feel free to sprinkle Cuban rum on me anytime, me vertical or horizontal. Everything felt so perfect. The trawler swaying or rather rocking with a little side to side motion, and me riding the Western Flyer like a surfer does a wave.
Two Gardenias for you.
With these I mean to say;
I love, I adore you, my life.
Look after them because
They are your heart and mine.
Two Gardenias for you. With all the warmth of a kiss. Like those I gave to you.
Kisses that you will never know. In the embrace of another.
They will live beside you. And talk to you as I do.
And you will even believe, that
you them them say; I love you. But if one late evening. The Gardenias should die.
It’s because they know. That you have betrayed me. And that you love another.
This groove we were on lasted for about twenty minutes; then the fog cleared some and now visibility was improving. Lucy is now once again, down for the count – totally exhausted, seasick or both; all that dancing and playing catch with that marine found tennis ball wore her doglet parts out. “She does not get seasick”
Next on the agenda was lunch. A wonderful parting gift from my wife. Last night she brought us what could closely qualify as Vietnamese style pannini’s. This afternoon I fired up the frying pan, doused it with extra virgin olive oil, a light sprinkling of sea salt, I opened up the pannini’s and spread both sides out onto the pan, for a full dousing of that extra virgin olive oil. That dog – when food is close at hand, she is suddenly ALIVE!. For her dance rewards she earns some salty snacks.
Next I educate her on the rules of the road. A sailboat spotted on my radar some time ago is now at ninety degrees (also right side) to my starboard side (right side). I note that although he has his main up (big sail) he is still motor sailing; not sailing, otherwise the rules change. Lucy I say; If I could see it, I would be looking at his red light on the port (left) side; SO he has the right of way and I am what they call the GIVE WAY vehicle. If he was looking at my brightly lit LED (GREEN) light on my starboard side (right side) he would know that he has the right of way.
End of lesson. She now earns a few more salty snacks, (sea salt potatoe chips) some for listening and some just because. “And it just doesn’t get any better than this.