Athens, New York - 1 mile in dinghy, 3 kilometres walked
Our friends Kate and Ben on Waddington really like pineapples. They always seem to have pineapples on board, from the $1.99 Walmart varietals in the US to the $13.99 beauties in the Bahamas. I think they even paid something like forty bucks for a fancy pineapple drink in Bimini after successfully crossing the Gulf Stream from Florida. When joining us on SeaLight for sundowners they would often bring a container of pineapple, perfectly sliced.
"Ben," I asked one time as I was munching on a slice. "How do you get these cut so perfectly? My pineapple butchering never comes out like this - I usually I cut off too much and get hunks of core or skin plugs on my slices. What's the secret?"
Ben's eyes lit up. "The secret, my friend, is the amazing pineapple cutting machine. I bought it on Amazon for like six bucks. It's foolproof, perfect for fools like you and me."
After that, Ana and I were on the hunt for a pineapple cutting machine and looked in every retail store from Long Island, Bahamas to Charleston, South Carolina with no luck. So when we finally had a stop for a few days we threw in an Amazon order for a few things we needed and got our very own legendary pineapple cutter.
The pineapple we had picked up back in Haverstraw had finally achieved maturity and today I had the chance to show off the slicer to Dad. I cut the top off the fruit, then measured the height of it with the built-in ruler on the slicer. I then placed the cylindrical shaft over the top of the core and started turning the cutter. Dad watched in amazement as the tool disappeared into the pineapple then when I reached the desired depth, I pulled it out and produced a fabulous stack of perfectly sliced pineapple and a uranium core of pineapple root which I flung into the river for the striped bass to feast on. We cut the stack in half then each picked up a piece, admired the geometric perfection, then ate them down. I do not remember eating a more delicious piece of pineapple in my life.
But the finale was yet to come. The extraction had yielded not just finely sliced fruit, but also a ready-made, organic, tropical drinking vessel, which I immediately filled with Malibu rum, mango juice, and ice and we moved to the cockpit for Premium Happy Hour (at least for me).
Dad had a sip of his wine then looked at me enjoying a long pull on my pineapple drink, eyes rolling around in my head and ears wiggling. We placed our drinks on the table to take a breath.
"My wine looks like a real piece of crap next to that masterpiece," he said sadly as he eyed the unequal drinks. I offered him a sip, but he didn't want to permanently sour his wine habit with experiencing the perfect drink, so I just nodded in agreement then had another sip. At the end of happy hour, my drink container was chopped into small pieces and fed to the river creatures. Dad's went into the sink for washing. 'Nuff said on that.
Today was the first of two work days and we spent it removing the sails from the boat and folding them up on shore. It was a perfect day for this job as the winds and intermittent sun dried out the sails nicely and there was nobody around at the Athens waterfront park so we had the whole place to ourselves to spread out the sails.
Dad and I took a break from the work for a walk in Athens. The town's main street has a few shops but most were closed so we went to the library to enjoy an hour of free wifi and reading. From here we walked to Stewart's Shop, a high-end gas station that has a pretty good selection of food. I have a fond memory of Ana and I enjoying hot dogs and a container of Hagen Daz here on our trip south. Today, I tried a maple nut cone while Dad had a Columbian coffee milkshake. Both were delicious.
We returned to SeaLight for the second job of the day, which was to install a new deck light halfway up the mast. This idea came from Johnny-Boy Blue on our sister boat Hopes End and I'd ordered the same light he installed. After meticulously planning out the operation we got started by measuring the wire drop, selecting the right metal tap, and fishing out the required electrical wire at the mast step. We then did waterproof electrical connections from wire to light, then rigged up the bosun's chair and I monkey-climbed the mast with Dad providing support at the winch. After a couple false starts, one errant drill hole in the mast, a dropped tap which was saved from a watery grave by the paddleboard, and the tool bucket going up and down a few times, we got it installed to perfection.
We finished our successful work day with chili leftovers, boiled and salted spinach, garlic toast, a bunch of wine, then a nice long cockpit chat with my brother Marty.
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