December 8, 2010.

We’re sitting here in South Beach ready to go but the weather is just not cooperating. We could leave on Thursday and motor the entire way, but by Sunday night a brutal cold front will be pushing well down into the Bahamas. Getting there, getting checked in to the country and then finding someplace to hide with adequate protection is a pretty tall order on a tight schedule. Anything goes wrong and you can be pretty well screwed. We’ll pass on this “opportunity” and await the next window.

In the meantime we’ve spent some time walking around town. Soon after securing the dink we came
across this line of over a dozen 7 foot tall pink snails lining the side of the road. It’s some artsy fartsy crapola that’s supposed to be promoting recycling and the promoters promise to have their display popping up all over the country. It reminds me of that “artist” that made a statement by wrapping trees in Central Park in brightly colored bolts of cloth. Somebody has definitely slipped some hallucinogens into their crappa frappe chinos.

After that we visited the Holocaust Victims Memorial. It’s kinda bizarre in the fact that when you first come upon it you are standing with your back to a fairly busy, very loud roadway. But after only a few steps




into the memorial the sounds of the city disappear. Central to the memorial is a huge sculpted forearm that reaches skyward. I think the designer/ sculptor really nailed it with the design and recommend that anyone visiting the area take the time to walk through this thought provoking memorial.

Next, it was a few short blocks to the Lincoln Mall. We’ve been here before and after dark it certainly qualifies as a freak show. There are block after block of excellent people watching. Even during the daytime it’s a lot like going to the circus but without the elephant smell. At every turn you’re likely to come face to face with model like beautiful young women or guys built like Greek gods. But the reason I like to take this stroll is that there’s an even more likely chance that you’ll run into a dude that’s a few decades past his prime but still out there workin’ it like John Travolta strutting down the boulevard in Saturday Night Fever. Dude, they’re not smiling at you, they’re suppressing laughter. Then there are the older women with lips pumped as thick as my thumbs and their boobs pushed up so high they can barely open their mouths. They strive to be on the cutting edge of fashion including shoes that force them to gimp around like they have some type of scoliosis. Ooohh, you look so sexy when you hobble along like Quasimodo on his way to ring his bells.

The anchorage here is landlocked with good protection depending on where you decide to drop the hook. The only drawback is that during the weekend it can get a little lively as the large powerboats blast from one bridge to another. But it is a good sand bottom with room to swing so we'll sit here through this next cold front.


I need a weather window bad.....