Letters from limbo

Ok, New Orleans is still my favorite town. I think, without getting too Psych
101 on everyone, it’s because it has that decaying decadence that appeals to my darker side. Without Marce I could very easily get lost here. It’s not an American City. Never has been. It’s an international city. Culturally, let’s just say it may be deep in the bible belt but you’d never know it.

We arrived at a special time while the entire town was decorating for Mardi Gras, what fun! Any town that reveres music as much as New Orleans does is copacetic with me and the cuisine is to die for.

We spent several hours with our new best friend, an old cajun who lives on his Privilege 39 in a hidden corner of a marina that has forgotten he’s back there. Some guys just know how to live.

Today we took the ferry from Dauphin Island to Orange Beach, completing a circle that we started with Spellbound in Fairhope, Alabama. We thought that after 6 months of serious construction we’d sail right out of Mobile Bay and circle Dolphin Island. It took a little longer and we never had the chance to see it by boat, but it still felt good to finally get there.

Ah yes yes dear reader, but what about the search? We’re still in limbo with no boat and no prospects leaving us without a real plan at the moment, other than patience, perseverance, and positive energy. None of these are my strong suit so we’re slowly working our way down to Miami for the Strictly Sail Show. We like boat shows, and we like visiting friends, so it’s a kind of plan.

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