Lines are drawn. Forces are marshalled. When the first salvos are fired, head for cover. It ain’t gonna be pretty. In one corner is marina management. The marina personnel are city employees. Hardworking, occasionally pleasant, governmental. But basically, they are our jailers. Their list of “don’ts” lengthens with each passing day. Enforcement is tough. Infractions are dealt with severely. Half-rebuilt outboards that strayed past the 48 hour deadline sit in lockup patiently awaiting their frustrated owners. Negativity reigns.
In opposition are the mariners. Most of whom came down here to escape rules and regulations, the ones that keep society in check.
Independent and outspoken, they can be a real pain-in-the-ass. Most are complacent. Their stay is short and they don’t wish to make waves. However, the permanent hard timers see it differently. They want their freedom and readily exploit any opportunity to “get the man.” I know I do.
I didn’t always. I really tried to stay neutral. But I’m now firmly in the opposition camp. All because of a block of ice. Thinking back, an incident in the Summer probably started it. We’d only been here about a week and were still getting acclimated. It had to be 105 degrees inside the building that serves as our entertainment center that day and the fans we relied on were nowhere to be found. Except for the one cooling the docent behind the service counter. So I approached and inquired,
“Where are the fans?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who would know?”
“I don’t know.”
Three feet away was a marina cart w/an old box fan in it.
“How about using that fan?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
There’s really nothing that can be done. None of us have lawyers. You could always go to the top where it’s worse. That was proven about the same time as the fan incident. The day the internet connection went down. Which is the only reason you’d sit in a 105 degree building in the first place. After a few “I don’t knows”, the warden/harbourmaster appeared.
“Hey Clifford, the internet connection’s down. Could you reset it?” I asked.
“It doesn’t have a reset”, he barked as he breezed past.
“Of course it does” I answered back as he headed for the sanctuary of his air-conditioned office.
“No it doesn’t” he spit back. “And besides, we don’t charge you extra for it”.
I hollered “But all you have to do is unplug it!” It was too late. The door slammed shut and that was that.
In opposition are the mariners. Most of whom came down here to escape rules and regulations, the ones that keep society in check.
Independent and outspoken, they can be a real pain-in-the-ass. Most are complacent. Their stay is short and they don’t wish to make waves. However, the permanent hard timers see it differently. They want their freedom and readily exploit any opportunity to “get the man.” I know I do.
I didn’t always. I really tried to stay neutral. But I’m now firmly in the opposition camp. All because of a block of ice. Thinking back, an incident in the Summer probably started it. We’d only been here about a week and were still getting acclimated. It had to be 105 degrees inside the building that serves as our entertainment center that day and the fans we relied on were nowhere to be found. Except for the one cooling the docent behind the service counter. So I approached and inquired,
“Where are the fans?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who would know?”
“I don’t know.”
Three feet away was a marina cart w/an old box fan in it.
“How about using that fan?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
There’s really nothing that can be done. None of us have lawyers. You could always go to the top where it’s worse. That was proven about the same time as the fan incident. The day the internet connection went down. Which is the only reason you’d sit in a 105 degree building in the first place. After a few “I don’t knows”, the warden/harbourmaster appeared.
“Hey Clifford, the internet connection’s down. Could you reset it?” I asked.
“It doesn’t have a reset”, he barked as he breezed past.
“Of course it does” I answered back as he headed for the sanctuary of his air-conditioned office.
“No it doesn’t” he spit back. “And besides, we don’t charge you extra for it”.
I hollered “But all you have to do is unplug it!” It was too late. The door slammed shut and that was that.
The guy sitting next to me spoke up. He had water pouring off of his face in little rivulets.
“He’s always like that. Get used to it”.
So that’s how a government run marina works. We don’t wear orange yet. But I’ve got a feeling it’s coming. More about the ice tomorrow.
“He’s always like that. Get used to it”.
So that’s how a government run marina works. We don’t wear orange yet. But I’ve got a feeling it’s coming. More about the ice tomorrow.
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