Monday, August 27, 2012

Waiting for Isaac

It was a remarkably slow night at work Saturday (meaning, I was actually enabled to do a decent job without rushing and cutting corners. What a treat!).  I was charting on a computer in an empty patient room and switched on the weather channel.  My coworkers and I began to reminisce: Weren't hurricanes once fun? You know, you got out of school; your parents would take off work. Your cousins would come over and everyone ate snack food and watched the pine trees blow down. Then the power would go out for a few hours and it was play-camping with board games.

Adulthood = blah! Now you have to determine for yourself and your kids whether to evacuate, whether you live in a mandatory evacuation zone, whether you can get everything squared away on your home front before you're called into work for indefinite overtime in a dirty hospital with no clean or quiet place to sleep between shifts. Yay! I moved away from snowstorms and into hurricane alley. At least in D.C. I could pay the piper for a hotel down the street. No such options here.

This, however, was one of the more pleasant aspects of storm preparation: getting my dad's sailboat out of the water. The state park, perhaps as a courtesy measure in light of the storm, was allowing free access of its dock and ramp.

Well, it was pleasant for me because it was a beautiful evening to be outside. The sunset was gorgeous, though I just missed it running back to grab a camera. It was not so pleasant for dad, and the job is not yet done. At the boat ramp, the tide was too low to float the hull all the way onto the half-submerged trailer. Trying to muscle it up with the crank, the ratchet strap ripped. We tried rigging it onto the V-8 Chevy Suburban with a line. That is, me in the Chevy trying to haul it onto the trailer from in front of the van parking the trailer. No go. 

I'm just relieved no one was decapitated in the process, because there was way too much weight and tension between that boat, the truck engine, and and old piece of rope. And I was reminded how much nicer folks are down here. I told the park ranger we were basically stranded until the tide comes in tomorrow morning. He was like, "No problem! Here's the code to get in after the park gates are closed, and here's a note from me for no-charge admission when you come back tomorrow." 

Wow. In Virginia or D.C. they probably would have fined us a few hundred $$ for leaving a vehicle/watercraft without an overnight permit or whatever.

Anyway, tonight we're going to enjoy a Beaujolais and revisit the Dark Knight and go at it again at 0500. And hopefully another 6 inches of water will make the difference.

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