Here is Dickie emptying the holding tank, also known as the pooping tank for those of you who did not get my euphemism in a previous post. Picture dedicated to Stephanie. We are staying at Coinjock for the day, and here is a picture of the marina:

What is so good about Coinjock you wonder, that the Spanglers are staying a full day and possibly more. For one thing, it has the amenuities we need: fuel, water and holding tank siphon. Even if I already mentioned this last amenunity twice and gave it a picture of its own, it does not hurt to underline the cruciality of it, as we actually “filled” the P tank to the max twice. I’ll skip on the part of how we realized we did, but reassure you nonetheless that the toilet did not overflow. It was close, and what a night it was checking on it waiting for a disaster, but it did not. I know. This is such trivial subject matter (did I write matter?) for modern times, yet it has a way to come back to the foreground with its unique urgency as soon as you go for a greenish lifestyle.

Coinjock also has a dock with high piles WITH CLEATS, if you can believe that. Now, what a smart investement it was somebody did (so far, I’ve only seen piles OR cleats). With such an arrangement of pile and cleat, you don’t need to lasso your line over a pile, which is chancy if the pile is higher than your 5’4”. Neither do you have to wrap your line around the pile and hold on to it all you can so lovely Peregrine won’t get scratched, which can hurt your shoulder and keep you away from tennis for a few more weeks. Nooo. You just wrap the line around the cleat and let it do the work. You can even act casually, perhaps showing a little knowing nod of appreciation to the pile and cleat combo, as if you’d been a boater your whole life. Actually this scheme does not work, because it requires somebody witnessing what a boater you are, which would only happen if Dickie asked for help by radio or cell phone, which he would not have done if his first mate had not asked for it please please, totally undermining the whole scheme because she had to be anxious about docking to ask such a thing, and therefore showing what a pro she is not. Now I hear you Dickie: “Why is is it so important to people to look authentic?” I know. You’re right and it’s that simple for your honest clear mind. I “hear” Dickie  but he is uncharestically not sitting opposite me at his computer. He’s taking a shower, another matter that has come to the foreground, although not with the same level of urgency as the other one mentioned above. Since we are going with the honesty theme here, I’ll say the shower issue did not present urgency at all and was the first thing we got used to. So great to slide into yesterday’s clothes (carefully piled the night before at hand’s reach so you can dress under warm cover), and you have the great excuse of not being possibly expected to take a shower when the cabin is in the low 40s.

Coinjock also has a store with jars of jam and such goodies labeled “Coinjock” and I had to have one even if I’m aware it’s not made here, and chose the Smokin Gun hot sauce over Licking Finger Good barbecue sauce. Now, you might start understanding what’s so attractive about Coinjock. Yes, it’s so like home (not Paris, Atlanta). But wait, here is more.

Dickie and I are having dinner at the Coinjock restaurant. It was nice, and nice is enough. Oh, nice is so enough and don’t let my light writing fool you, and I’m completely thankful for it, from the bottom of my heart and soul.