Reluctantly we left Caladesi Island to anchor out just 2 miles away off the Town of Dunedin. Our plan was to dingy into the municipal dock and catch the Trolley to spend the day exploring Tarpon Springs. All ready to leave, we fired up the generator to power up the davit and lift the dingy into the water. "What the hell is that sound," I asked.
"There's something wrong with your generator," yelled the Admiral from the state room.
"Oh! Oh! That doesn't sound good remarked Mildred.
I immediately shut it off and went down into "the hole" to investigate. Nothing seemed out of place so we kicked it over again. No water coming out the exhaust. High pitched squealing as the fan belt turned over and moved all the pulley's....except the impeller pump.
"Damn, the impeller is shot," Tom said with a smile on his face. "I'll stay and fix it while y'all go and enjoy yourself in town."
At least we were smart enough when putting in our inverter to make sure a plug on the upper deck was hot. Now we just ran power to the davit, put the dingy in and waved goodbye to Tom as we headed in to catch the trolley.
First task was to tie the dingy up on an angle so that it wouldn't drift into the multiple oysters growing on the poles. The sharp oysters would shred the Hypalon rigid inflatable in seconds. I cursed as the rope in the dingy disintegrated in my hand and broke when I tried to position the dingy. Back to the boat for a good rope finally securing the boat so that it stayed away from the oysters.
Next stop was the open air dock bar for some immediate frustration treatment... several ice cold frosty beers. (Colorado bull dogs for Mildred!) Then, a bus ride for the 13 mile trip to experience the essence of the Tarpon Springs sponge docks.
Greek sponge fishermen settled here many years ago and eeked out an existence diving for and supplying the world with sea sponges. Now, not only do they still make money from harvesting the sponges and selling them around the world but they have made an entire tourist industry around this endeavour with live and recorded displays of how sponge fishing has developed over the years. They have maintained their Greek culture with not only imported souvenirs from Greece but have capitalized on their heritage of Greek culture, music and food. These we were about to savour but we had our own rituals to endure first. Shopping. (Ugh!) So, I followed the girls in and out of numerous quaint shops and pressed them on occasion to walk the dock, until I could stand it no more! (What is wrong with the female mind that makes them go into store after store picking things up, turning them around, commenting on how expensive these things are and how they could get them cheaper some place else....over, and over, and over again! Girls, its the same crap in each store!)...ya, I know I'm still an !@#$% (rhymes with mole!... so don't take me anymore, eh!) I could now understand why Tom was smiling when there was something he could stay and fix on the boat.
The interesting sights to me, were the boats. Some colorful. Some serious working boats equipped with compressors and large hoses that supplied the divers (wearing their large round brass head gear and thick dive suits) with the needed air they required to work for hours at 20 to 50 feet harvesting the sponges.
Finally, we get to Hellas Greek Restaurant..now we would get to experience a modicum of Greek culture. Waiters with thick Greek accents,Greek music playing in the background, sangria, Greek salad, gyros, but first a true Greek delicacy, an appetizer of grilled octopus. We ordered and I went to the rest room to wash my hands before eating. When I returned to the table I wondered about the grinning expression on Beth's face as I sat down, until I looked down on the plate to see 3 large curved tentacles nicely placed and accentuated by lemon slices on each side of the plate. They appeared to be well cooked as the tiny suckers on each tentacle were blackened. Beth gagged as I cut into the firm meat and began to chew... "Doesn't taste like chicken," I commented. Actually it didn't have much taste except for the garlic olive oil dressing drizzled on top. The texture was firm and slightly rubbery but the suckers were definitely crisp. I looked into Beth's contorted face when she occasionally looked in my direction. I couldn't help myself...I feigned a slight gag commenting on how I thought a sucker had gotten stuck to the roof of my mouth, much like a popcorn kernel would! Bless her little heart. She didn't leave the table. I could hardly wait to take some of this back to Tom!
Yummy!!!
Mildred and I giggled as we watched Tom jump up and down in anticipation of the surprise we were heating up in the microwave for him. He sat down in the chair with knife and fork in hand as we presented him with his meal. Words cannot describe his reaction! "What the hell is that!" he blurted, then sat silent for a moment staring at his plate. He shuddered and began rubbing his arms. "Good god!" he muttered. " My skin is crawling!"
Mildred and I broke out into hysterical laughter...so hard tears were rolling down my face and poor Mildred had trouble controlling her bladder. He was flabbergasted that I had eaten one leg and that Mildred had even sampled the meat.
"What is it??"
OMG!
"My skin is crawling!"
A soft rain began to fall as we laughed at the days experiences. The boat gently swayed at anchor as we shut off the lights and went to bed. This would be one of those days we would joke about for a long time. This is cruising.
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