| TRAVELS OF DURSMIRG VOLUME IV THE ROGUES OF ST. AUGUSTINE AND OTHER SOCIAL MISFITS Chapter 53 |
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YACHTERS, THE GOOD, BAD AND THE UGLY: MONROE DRAKE
Monroe Drake; “If you get up in the morning and see anyone else you are too late”
“I’m not building a boat out of anything that I can’t get high on, therefore I wouldn't use ferro-cement."
If ever there was someone that looked and dressed the part of a seagoing sailor from days gone by in the time of
tall sailing ships, Monroe Drake was that man.
With his self-assured confidence and slightly graying hair receding into a middle aged balding pattern Monroe
groomed his mane and full beard into a distinguished style that gave him an arrogant aloof haughty air of a person
of admiralty status.
This exceptional rogue was the kind of person that you almost instinctively wanted to salute.
I don’t believe that Monroe had much of a maritime background or training but he surely could sail into some very
lofty positions even if he didn’t possess the necessary skills to hold them for long.
When we first met Monroe he was the live-aboard captain in charge of a very historically prestigious vessel
anchored on the Anastasia Island side of Matanzas Bay across from downtown St. Augustine. This stately glaringly
white vessel had the dubious distinction of formerly being Adolph Hitler’s private yacht and it was resplendent with
the most lavish solid gold marine hardware and elegant hand crafted amenities that were not for sale anywhere.
Well, Monroe had found himself a real featherbed job and it looked like he fit right in to this class of motor yacht.
It wasn’t long and this jewel of a yacht dragged anchor and salty looking Monroe didn’t have the slightest clue of
what to do next.
Monroe now had to look for another opportunity.
No problem, this time our admiral landed himself a 60 foot ketch rigged motor-sailor that was fitted out to a posh
standard of elegance bedecked in all of the most costly amenities that could possibly have been bolted on.
Monroe didn’t suffer this transition for more than a couple of days.
Along with big fancy yachts and his self-confident admiralty act Monroe naturally attracted lots of pretty young girls
that then became his loyal galley slaves.
Monroe oversaw the haul out and refurbishing of his new home and yacht at old Uncle Harry Xynides Boatyard over
on the San Sebastian River and then proceeded to live aboard out at anchor in the bay near the City Yacht Pier.
He befriended many of the boating community and invited us all over several times for a taste of elegance dinner
served by one of his loyal young galley slaves.
We were all impressed to say the very least especially to be served on the priceless china with real embossed linen
table cloths and napkins. His girlfriend/galley slave spiced the meal with cannabis just to impress I think.
Then something very strange happened that bought Admiral Monroe some extra breathing time aboard his newly
acquired luxury floating crash-pad.
It turns out that the owners of this stately yacht had brought Monroe onboard to captain their vessel on some long
out-to-sea ocean passages of which Monroe would have been in waters far over his head skill-wise.
His stroke of luck turned out to be a lightning strike.
Just after the vessel had finished its pull out and completed its refurbishing at Uncle Harry’s boatyard while anchored
out in the bay a bolt of lightning sizzled down and burnt out almost everything electrical plus the vessels electronic
navigational equipment.
In that very same electrical storm that hit St. Augustine a bolt of lightning struck a trawler up on the marine railway
adjacent to where we had our vessel Dursmirg docked on the San Sebastian River. Jane had our engine running
and was charging the battery at the time of the strike so she had our engine room hatch up. She said that our bilge
lit up like a Christmas tree and that the flash of lightning was simultaneous with the clap of thunder. That is as close
to ground zero as you can get!
The amazing thing for us was that we sustained no damage.
The trawler next to us wasn’t so lucky and its antennas looked as though they had long whiskers where the wires
used to be and the metal chain plates holding up the rigging were blown off like hand grenades had sent them flying.
A tourist on the grounds of the Castillo de San Marco fort received a direct hit in this same lightning storm and she
was instantly burned to death. A policeman friend of ours later stated that the lady struck by lightning even had the
metal from her garters burned into her flesh.
Well, as my dear old dad always used to say; “nothing is so bad that it isn’t good for someone” and so Admiral
Monroe won more time aboard his plush floating crash-pad.
The rogue admiral would now supervise the electric refit which he dragged out as long as his foot dragging would
allow. When the vessel was again sea-worthy Monroe would be put to the test by the owners that wanted to go to
sea.
Well the day of reckoning finally did arrive and the vessel was taken offshore to begin its protracted voyage.
A couple of days later our rogue Admiral Monroe was back in St. Augustine and this time without his stately sailing
vessel, just walking the docks.
We never did get filled in on all of the details but it was rumored around town that Monroe was shamed out of his
admiral’s position when he couldn’t perform the required functions of his sea going command.
Thereafter Monroe stuck to land and just hung out in the town of rogues where he melded right in with his old but
immaculately maintained flat-bed pickup truck.
next chapter
Monroe Drake; “If you get up in the morning and see anyone else you are too late”
“I’m not building a boat out of anything that I can’t get high on, therefore I wouldn't use ferro-cement."
If ever there was someone that looked and dressed the part of a seagoing sailor from days gone by in the time of
tall sailing ships, Monroe Drake was that man.
With his self-assured confidence and slightly graying hair receding into a middle aged balding pattern Monroe
groomed his mane and full beard into a distinguished style that gave him an arrogant aloof haughty air of a person
of admiralty status.
This exceptional rogue was the kind of person that you almost instinctively wanted to salute.
I don’t believe that Monroe had much of a maritime background or training but he surely could sail into some very
lofty positions even if he didn’t possess the necessary skills to hold them for long.
When we first met Monroe he was the live-aboard captain in charge of a very historically prestigious vessel
anchored on the Anastasia Island side of Matanzas Bay across from downtown St. Augustine. This stately glaringly
white vessel had the dubious distinction of formerly being Adolph Hitler’s private yacht and it was resplendent with
the most lavish solid gold marine hardware and elegant hand crafted amenities that were not for sale anywhere.
Well, Monroe had found himself a real featherbed job and it looked like he fit right in to this class of motor yacht.
It wasn’t long and this jewel of a yacht dragged anchor and salty looking Monroe didn’t have the slightest clue of
what to do next.
Monroe now had to look for another opportunity.
No problem, this time our admiral landed himself a 60 foot ketch rigged motor-sailor that was fitted out to a posh
standard of elegance bedecked in all of the most costly amenities that could possibly have been bolted on.
Monroe didn’t suffer this transition for more than a couple of days.
Along with big fancy yachts and his self-confident admiralty act Monroe naturally attracted lots of pretty young girls
that then became his loyal galley slaves.
Monroe oversaw the haul out and refurbishing of his new home and yacht at old Uncle Harry Xynides Boatyard over
on the San Sebastian River and then proceeded to live aboard out at anchor in the bay near the City Yacht Pier.
He befriended many of the boating community and invited us all over several times for a taste of elegance dinner
served by one of his loyal young galley slaves.
We were all impressed to say the very least especially to be served on the priceless china with real embossed linen
table cloths and napkins. His girlfriend/galley slave spiced the meal with cannabis just to impress I think.
Then something very strange happened that bought Admiral Monroe some extra breathing time aboard his newly
acquired luxury floating crash-pad.
It turns out that the owners of this stately yacht had brought Monroe onboard to captain their vessel on some long
out-to-sea ocean passages of which Monroe would have been in waters far over his head skill-wise.
His stroke of luck turned out to be a lightning strike.
Just after the vessel had finished its pull out and completed its refurbishing at Uncle Harry’s boatyard while anchored
out in the bay a bolt of lightning sizzled down and burnt out almost everything electrical plus the vessels electronic
navigational equipment.
In that very same electrical storm that hit St. Augustine a bolt of lightning struck a trawler up on the marine railway
adjacent to where we had our vessel Dursmirg docked on the San Sebastian River. Jane had our engine running
and was charging the battery at the time of the strike so she had our engine room hatch up. She said that our bilge
lit up like a Christmas tree and that the flash of lightning was simultaneous with the clap of thunder. That is as close
to ground zero as you can get!
The amazing thing for us was that we sustained no damage.
The trawler next to us wasn’t so lucky and its antennas looked as though they had long whiskers where the wires
used to be and the metal chain plates holding up the rigging were blown off like hand grenades had sent them flying.
A tourist on the grounds of the Castillo de San Marco fort received a direct hit in this same lightning storm and she
was instantly burned to death. A policeman friend of ours later stated that the lady struck by lightning even had the
metal from her garters burned into her flesh.
Well, as my dear old dad always used to say; “nothing is so bad that it isn’t good for someone” and so Admiral
Monroe won more time aboard his plush floating crash-pad.
The rogue admiral would now supervise the electric refit which he dragged out as long as his foot dragging would
allow. When the vessel was again sea-worthy Monroe would be put to the test by the owners that wanted to go to
sea.
Well the day of reckoning finally did arrive and the vessel was taken offshore to begin its protracted voyage.
A couple of days later our rogue Admiral Monroe was back in St. Augustine and this time without his stately sailing
vessel, just walking the docks.
We never did get filled in on all of the details but it was rumored around town that Monroe was shamed out of his
admiral’s position when he couldn’t perform the required functions of his sea going command.
Thereafter Monroe stuck to land and just hung out in the town of rogues where he melded right in with his old but
immaculately maintained flat-bed pickup truck.
next chapter