Re: Snobbery and other faux pas.....
David
Back then (20 years ago) it was early in Boston Whaler's existence,
they were the low end of the spectrum compared to that beast!!
Steve Bosquette
Back then (20 years ago) it was early in Boston Whaler's existence,
they were the low end of the spectrum compared to that beast!!
Steve Bosquette
--- In bolger@y..., David Ryan <david@c...> wrote:
>
> >received! The best part was this behemoth was pulled off the mud
by
> >2 lowly Boston Whalers!!
>
> Lowly Boston Whalers? Apparently you haven't seen the prices for
> these things lately!
>
>
> C.E.P.
> 134 West 26th St. 12th Floor
> New York, New York 10001
>http://www.crumblingempire.com
> (212) 247-0296
>received! The best part was this behemoth was pulled off the mud byLowly Boston Whalers? Apparently you haven't seen the prices for
>2 lowly Boston Whalers!!
these things lately!
C.E.P.
134 West 26th St. 12th Floor
New York, New York 10001
http://www.crumblingempire.com
(212) 247-0296
Bruce and Peter
There must be some mystical power affecting those of you who endure
the winter on the shores of the St. Lawrence that causes said people
to wax philosophical while waiting for the spring!!
I had a fun experience some years ago in Duxbury Harbor,
Massachusetts. There is a narrow channel leading from the mooring
basin out 2 or 3 miles to Plymouth Bay. In the basin is the Duxbury
Yacht Club replete with snobs of all stripes. The largest boat in
their fleet must have been 65 or 70 feet multistoried with a large
lounging area adjacent to the flybridge. On the bridge were 6 or 7
snobs in their best yachting regalia complete with wide brimmed hats,
drinking wine. As the captain left the basin he powered up to 5 or 6
knots and commenced to stray too far to the starboard and ran
headlong into the mud stopping the huge boat instantly. That was
funny enough but glancing up at the lounge area I observed hats
knocked forward on foreheads, drinks spilled and wine glasses
dislodged. They all didn't seem very snobby at that moment but
looked shocked and embarassed. I enjoyed the just deserts that they
received! The best part was this behemoth was pulled off the mud by
2 lowly Boston Whalers!!
Steve Bosquette
There must be some mystical power affecting those of you who endure
the winter on the shores of the St. Lawrence that causes said people
to wax philosophical while waiting for the spring!!
I had a fun experience some years ago in Duxbury Harbor,
Massachusetts. There is a narrow channel leading from the mooring
basin out 2 or 3 miles to Plymouth Bay. In the basin is the Duxbury
Yacht Club replete with snobs of all stripes. The largest boat in
their fleet must have been 65 or 70 feet multistoried with a large
lounging area adjacent to the flybridge. On the bridge were 6 or 7
snobs in their best yachting regalia complete with wide brimmed hats,
drinking wine. As the captain left the basin he powered up to 5 or 6
knots and commenced to stray too far to the starboard and ran
headlong into the mud stopping the huge boat instantly. That was
funny enough but glancing up at the lounge area I observed hats
knocked forward on foreheads, drinks spilled and wine glasses
dislodged. They all didn't seem very snobby at that moment but
looked shocked and embarassed. I enjoyed the just deserts that they
received! The best part was this behemoth was pulled off the mud by
2 lowly Boston Whalers!!
Steve Bosquette
--- In bolger@y..., "brucehector" <bruce_hector@h...> wrote:
> Of course there's alway the ultimate snobbery of reverse snobbery.
> There's nothing quite like pasta & meat squares (Spam and Kraft
> Dinner)on Adagio's (a square boat if there ever was one) square,
> foating construction shack deck moored at a dock of Le Chateau
> Montebello surrounded by 60ish footers of unblemished white
> fibreglass. Knowing full well that the skippers of said gin barges
> are treating their entire crew to the tender mercies on the
> pocketbook of dinner for ten at Le Chateau's main dining room, the
> wine stewarts warm, cheery smile lights up the dim, high ceiled
room
> as he recommends the E&E Black Pepper Shiraz with the saddle of
> rabbit.
>
> Vive la difference!
>
> Bruce Hector
> www.snobs-R-us.com
Ah Peter...This sounds more like the rantings after a bottle of
Medeira.
Honestly, I have some raids on "proper yacht establishments" on
the south of Cape Cod and the Islands planned with the
Micro "Firefly". I will be getting her registration numbers next
week and on to fairing and painting! (homemade scrapers from the
1960 diston saw make handling globs of epoxy like cutting buttah)
Perpetual anticipation is good for the heart.
My bottle of 1996 Rothschild Cabernet awaits its disposal at the
post launch party to take place sometime in June.
Please be careful with the deck chairs, if one gets too "relaxed"
dinner might become mighty wet.
Happy boating.
david jost
Nothing like having way
Medeira.
Honestly, I have some raids on "proper yacht establishments" on
the south of Cape Cod and the Islands planned with the
Micro "Firefly". I will be getting her registration numbers next
week and on to fairing and painting! (homemade scrapers from the
1960 diston saw make handling globs of epoxy like cutting buttah)
Perpetual anticipation is good for the heart.
My bottle of 1996 Rothschild Cabernet awaits its disposal at the
post launch party to take place sometime in June.
Please be careful with the deck chairs, if one gets too "relaxed"
dinner might become mighty wet.
Happy boating.
david jost
Nothing like having way
> too much time on your hands!!!
> Sincerely,
> Peter Lenihan......
Of course there's alway the ultimate snobbery of reverse snobbery.
There's nothing quite like pasta & meat squares (Spam and Kraft
Dinner)on Adagio's (a square boat if there ever was one) square,
foating construction shack deck moored at a dock of Le Chateau
Montebello surrounded by 60ish footers of unblemished white
fibreglass. Knowing full well that the skippers of said gin barges
are treating their entire crew to the tender mercies on the
pocketbook of dinner for ten at Le Chateau's main dining room, the
wine stewarts warm, cheery smile lights up the dim, high ceiled room
as he recommends the E&E Black Pepper Shiraz with the saddle of
rabbit.
Vive la difference!
Bruce Hector
www.snobs-R-us.com
There's nothing quite like pasta & meat squares (Spam and Kraft
Dinner)on Adagio's (a square boat if there ever was one) square,
foating construction shack deck moored at a dock of Le Chateau
Montebello surrounded by 60ish footers of unblemished white
fibreglass. Knowing full well that the skippers of said gin barges
are treating their entire crew to the tender mercies on the
pocketbook of dinner for ten at Le Chateau's main dining room, the
wine stewarts warm, cheery smile lights up the dim, high ceiled room
as he recommends the E&E Black Pepper Shiraz with the saddle of
rabbit.
Vive la difference!
Bruce Hector
www.snobs-R-us.com
Bruce,
Every once in awhile,I get into one of those devilish states
where,for the complete lack of anything more constructive to do,I head
over to one of the more posh yacht clubs close by and feign a desire
to overnight at the guest dock.The dockmaster,more accustomed to gin
palaces,usually gives something of a smirk as he brusquely directs me
to a spot at the furthest end of the quest dock.Fortunately for
me,this puts me right behind the sterns of a row of obnoxious
yachts.Due to the odd shape and style of my boat( the mighty
Micro,LESTAT) we invariably draw a fair amount of attention and the
occassional member will deign to actually stroll over to give us a
closer look.Of course,he knows(and we too!) that his fellow members
are all looking over and listening in the quite of the evening air to
hear our exchange.After the usual round of pleasantries,with me
playing the goofy nut explaining the flat square stem etc...,he
predictably launches into some rot about proper boat
shapes.Naturally,our snot-about-the docks has the proper boat shape as
do most of his experienced fellow yachtsmen. With something like the
look you would expect from some elder statesman annunciating on the
pityful state of national health care,he offers the suggestion that I
too should"get with it,Lad!". That's just about the time where my
Pesky Crew pops her head up out the companionway hatch,and kindly
enquires of me whether we should be having the'97 Chateau de Rochforte
or perhaps the Beaujolais Nouveau with supper tonight.Our SAD
(snot-about-the-docks) smiles politely and reminds us that the club
has its own rather impressive selection and that bringing your own
bottle to the dining room is...er..ah...well not exactly permitted.Oh
shucking away,I tell him that we won't be using the dining room but
will instead eat on the boat.With arched eyebrows and barely contained
amusement,SAD wonders out loud about the wisdom of mixing sandwiches
and wine but gives a friendly chuckle and waddles down the dock
mumbling something about long ago college stunts. In the
background,Pesky and I can clearly hear the comments from the aft
decks of the nearby yachts.Some of them are really mean
spirited,suggesting that bums like us should go picnic elswhere
blah,blah,blah.......
Then in a flash,Pesky sets up the stove in the cockpit and begins
getting the water boiling for pasta,the marinated 40 clove
garlic chicken brought from home is cooked over the second
burner.While this is all going on,I set up our folding camp chairs and
table on the dock.Next comes the linen table cloth,candles,real china
plates,Waterford goblettes and Sterling silver utensils.As the mouth
watering aromas drift through the yacht basin,I gently crank up the
volume on our cassette player to better hear Handels"The Arrival of
The Queen of Sheba"( I love Baroque and pasta!).Lighting the candles
first,I then make a deliberate show of gently carressing the bottle
before uncorking with the Swiss Army knife.The accompanying soft"pop"
from the cork timed to be heard in the break after the 26th bar.
With much fuss,Pesky dresses up the plates with steaming offerings
to our stomaches.Sitting bolt upright in our chairs,we both make like
we were at the Ritz,with much clinking of fork to plate and tinkling
of glasses as toasts are rendered to friends and heros.
Later on,well after sunset,we slowly put it all away after dealing
with an un-usual number of after supper dock walkers.Having been
appraised from both near and far,the membership feels secure that we
are not such bad people afterall and many of the walkers,having come
to the end of the dock before turning around, wish us a pleasant and
good nights sleep.
As Pesky and I watch,the lights on the row of yachts gradually go
out.All is well in Snobland.
And this is where I have developed an awkward appreciation for
little 2 stroke outboards.Yessirree......nothing like that
mechanical racket and blue smoke shortly after midnight to stop the
snoring and late night groping of mistresses.In due time,we can always
count on at least two blabber mouths to holler oaths and threats from
their sterns.This will sometimes get me to pull a neat little 360 as I
holler back,"Sorry,can't hear a fu**en word you're sayin'!" as we
crank her wide open and escape out onto the darkness of the river.
We usually find a nice spot by one of the islands to spend the
night and just about laugh ourselves to sleep.Nothing like having way
too much time on your hands!!!
Sincerely,
Peter Lenihan.........
Every once in awhile,I get into one of those devilish states
where,for the complete lack of anything more constructive to do,I head
over to one of the more posh yacht clubs close by and feign a desire
to overnight at the guest dock.The dockmaster,more accustomed to gin
palaces,usually gives something of a smirk as he brusquely directs me
to a spot at the furthest end of the quest dock.Fortunately for
me,this puts me right behind the sterns of a row of obnoxious
yachts.Due to the odd shape and style of my boat( the mighty
Micro,LESTAT) we invariably draw a fair amount of attention and the
occassional member will deign to actually stroll over to give us a
closer look.Of course,he knows(and we too!) that his fellow members
are all looking over and listening in the quite of the evening air to
hear our exchange.After the usual round of pleasantries,with me
playing the goofy nut explaining the flat square stem etc...,he
predictably launches into some rot about proper boat
shapes.Naturally,our snot-about-the docks has the proper boat shape as
do most of his experienced fellow yachtsmen. With something like the
look you would expect from some elder statesman annunciating on the
pityful state of national health care,he offers the suggestion that I
too should"get with it,Lad!". That's just about the time where my
Pesky Crew pops her head up out the companionway hatch,and kindly
enquires of me whether we should be having the'97 Chateau de Rochforte
or perhaps the Beaujolais Nouveau with supper tonight.Our SAD
(snot-about-the-docks) smiles politely and reminds us that the club
has its own rather impressive selection and that bringing your own
bottle to the dining room is...er..ah...well not exactly permitted.Oh
shucking away,I tell him that we won't be using the dining room but
will instead eat on the boat.With arched eyebrows and barely contained
amusement,SAD wonders out loud about the wisdom of mixing sandwiches
and wine but gives a friendly chuckle and waddles down the dock
mumbling something about long ago college stunts. In the
background,Pesky and I can clearly hear the comments from the aft
decks of the nearby yachts.Some of them are really mean
spirited,suggesting that bums like us should go picnic elswhere
blah,blah,blah.......
Then in a flash,Pesky sets up the stove in the cockpit and begins
getting the water boiling for pasta,the marinated 40 clove
garlic chicken brought from home is cooked over the second
burner.While this is all going on,I set up our folding camp chairs and
table on the dock.Next comes the linen table cloth,candles,real china
plates,Waterford goblettes and Sterling silver utensils.As the mouth
watering aromas drift through the yacht basin,I gently crank up the
volume on our cassette player to better hear Handels"The Arrival of
The Queen of Sheba"( I love Baroque and pasta!).Lighting the candles
first,I then make a deliberate show of gently carressing the bottle
before uncorking with the Swiss Army knife.The accompanying soft"pop"
from the cork timed to be heard in the break after the 26th bar.
With much fuss,Pesky dresses up the plates with steaming offerings
to our stomaches.Sitting bolt upright in our chairs,we both make like
we were at the Ritz,with much clinking of fork to plate and tinkling
of glasses as toasts are rendered to friends and heros.
Later on,well after sunset,we slowly put it all away after dealing
with an un-usual number of after supper dock walkers.Having been
appraised from both near and far,the membership feels secure that we
are not such bad people afterall and many of the walkers,having come
to the end of the dock before turning around, wish us a pleasant and
good nights sleep.
As Pesky and I watch,the lights on the row of yachts gradually go
out.All is well in Snobland.
And this is where I have developed an awkward appreciation for
little 2 stroke outboards.Yessirree......nothing like that
mechanical racket and blue smoke shortly after midnight to stop the
snoring and late night groping of mistresses.In due time,we can always
count on at least two blabber mouths to holler oaths and threats from
their sterns.This will sometimes get me to pull a neat little 360 as I
holler back,"Sorry,can't hear a fu**en word you're sayin'!" as we
crank her wide open and escape out onto the darkness of the river.
We usually find a nice spot by one of the islands to spend the
night and just about laugh ourselves to sleep.Nothing like having way
too much time on your hands!!!
Sincerely,
Peter Lenihan.........