Log Book: Atlantic City - September 22, 2003
Before the fishermen we got up and left this sweet and wind and wake becalmed place. The whole night we had smelled the fish and shell boats 20 Feet leeward. What a sweet place, but it drove us insane that we didn't have a dinghy and with that weren't able to attend any kind of social life again.
Anyways, it was a nice sailing day. With a blaze of wind in our back we headed down the coast, passing beaches and cities, everyone equally equipped with water towers. It became quite long then and my bum went sour like I never xperiencec before. Maybe all these nights in the same underwear, cotton stripes ripping apart my flesh 24/7, sitting on stoneharded Fiberglas boatseats and getting bounced by wakes and waves finally gave me some credit. And so I couldn't find a comfortable spot any more, got out my folding camping chair and placed myself at the very bow trying to occupy my mind with reading, a difficult task.
We also saw some fish swarms. Flukes in a row, formatted like a squad of navy steal fighters. And other little fishes going crazy and jumping around the boat.
Finally, in Atlantic City, we docked and went sight-seeing in the ghetto afraid to get shot. We also saw huge casinos with helicopter landings. Apparently what Atlantic City is famous for. Unfortunately, the ghetto shop was not very divers with food supply and expensive so we got out without uprising any further attention. The shower and shave at the marina did well our souls. Hot water on my body, a sensation of happiness I will tell my grandchildren about...
Hooking in the bay at night was difficult. Strong currents, fear and wind tormenting our pour crew. During the night the cables were banging hard again in the mast. Oh Lord, come soon.
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