5/1/2025 Red Car Green Car

For two days we’ve  played red car/ green car, an engaging game of moving life events around to get everything done, e.g., our Subaru garaged at home, 184 miles from where IH is docked.  Real-life Tetris. We’re moving aboard.

I’ve got two more appointments in the ‘Boro: dental and a cardiac stress test.

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The dental tech says, “Ya’ll live on a boat?  Didn’t you see that boat crash in on Youtube?” 

“Uh-huh,” I said, which is all you can say from the dentist’s chair.

She shakes her head. “Y’all be careful!”

“Uh-huh.” (Here’s a link in case you missed it. Not a BWI, under investigation..)

The stress test is fine – I assume the electrical storm on the monitor was an equipment malfunction. Besides, it only lasted a few seconds.

*

A few hours later we’re southbound on I-95 in the rental car and grinning because it’s the last time we’ll be making this 3-hour batshit drive flanked by spring breakers, elderly Floridians, redneck locals, and trucks, all of us flying along at 80 mph because hey, accidents don’t happen to any of us.

We fly by exits – Savannah, Darien, Jekyll Island, Fernandina – that will take us a day to pass on boat time. There’s something to be said for slow.

We stopped at Home Depot to pick up artificial turf for Katie to use on the boat. Never mind we’ve been on land for 18 months and haven’t bothered to train her to use it. She’s smart. She’ll pick it up.

At the marina we drop off the herbs which, with three small orchids, will have to fill in for roses and blueberries, which I will miss, along with the Buddha and wind chimes. Return the rental car, borrow the marina car – a land yacht of a Caddie approved for dog transport. Pick up Katie at Happy Hounds. Return Cadillac keys. Red car green car.

Thank Lamb’s front desk. Thank Happy Hounds. Thank our dockmates (whom we’ll really miss). Thank the mechanics. Thank you Jax for everything but your interstates.

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I cut off a piece of turf for some Just-In-Time training during Katie’s evening walk. She startles when I slide it under her bottom trying to catch her pee. Her expression says, Are you f-ing nuts? We have better luck with #2. I gave her a treat and praised her profusely for going on your grass! 

“Gonna be a long day tomorrow, Babycake,” I say. She ignores me. Such a teenager. What. Ever.

Back at the boat, we walk the turf to the bow. I point to it, smile, and say your grass! again. She smiles back then lies down on it.

She’s been underway exactly once for less than three hours. Tomorrow we’re making for Jekyll or at least Cumberland Island on an outgoing morning tide. We’ll see…