As my 24 hour call was ending; my apprehension was growing.  Even though there was no work to do, I just laid in the bed unable to fall asleep, my mind inundated with recent events.  It wasn't just the bad cases of the preceding twenty-four hours, the child that had a coin stuck in her windpipe, the elderly man that had to have a craniotomy for evacuation of a blood clot, or the three teenage boys that we operated on for gun shot wounds received in a drug deal gone bad. It was my good friend James. He  had just left the hospital and I was certain that he would be given the bad news that he had lung cancer. His illness caused the dormant thoughts to resurface. For some time now I had been plagued with the same old grumbling thoughts, "After all these years of dedicated work, raising kids and putting up with the stress and drudgery of every day routine, was this how it was supposed to end?  Work every day until you get sick and can't do anything other than visit doctors, take pills and wait for the end!  I say, " bullshit!"   As apprehensive (read scared) as I was to do an open water night crossing, I was going to do it.  After all as Bob Bitchin the publisher of Latts and Atts puts it,  "The only difference between an adventure and an ordeal is attitude."  Great, all I had to do was get a little attitude.  Most of my friends and relatives think I have too much attitude, but is it enough to get me through something I am terrified of doing?
     I sat with my nose against the window of the airplane looking down on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico.  Could I see any waves or white caps from this height? No. Probably too high.  I could barely make out the rivulets extending out on the Mississippi Delta.  At least it was a clear day.  The plane started its descent into Tampa and as I raised out of my seat to look directly down on the water there it was,  floating in a bath of royal blue water, a crooked curved finger of white sand semi-circling an emerald green lagoon. Attached to the finger was a lush darker green tropical glade.  I recognized it immediately from the google overhead picture, it was Anclote Key, the very place we would cross to from Carrabelle, Florida. What a coincidence!  Of all the times I had flown into Tampa, this was the first time I had actually flown over Anclote Key.  A nagging doubt started growing in my alleged mind, was this an omen? If so, was it a good or bad omen!

                                                                                  


     I exited the airport to see my daughter Jennifer's ever present beautiful smile visible from inside the car.  Giving me a kiss she laughingly said, "How was your trip, old man."
 I responded in my usual fashion, as grumpy as I could feign, "I'll show you whose an old man!" and started tickling her ribs. We took off for the long 4 hour ride to meet Beth, Tom and Mildred waiting for us on the boat in Carrabelle. 
     Tom, Mildred and Beth spent the previous few days prepping and supplying the boat for the crossing and they were ready to go.  We repeatedly checked the wind, waves, swells, currents and as much as I looked for a reason to not go, there was none.
 " This would be the best it is ever going to be." The people at The Moorings marina reassured me. We topped up the fuel tanks, water tanks and checked all the filters and fluids.  Tomorrow we would cross.
    Almost immediately the Admiral and I began to argue.  "We should leave later in the afternoon." I said.
 "No we are leaving as soon as the morning fog clears so we can do much of it in daylight." she insisted.
 "But its a 16 hour trip and we need to arrive in daylight so we can see to avoid the crab pots!" I exclaimed.
 "No.  I'm putting my foot down this time.  You've made enough mistakes.  We are leaving in the morning when we know we have a window of good weather." she said firmly.
 "Oh, well," I thought somewhat chagrined, "Lets see what happens in the morning."