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AKULA

Mark and I caught the last plane from Ft. Lauderdale to New Orleans to escape Hurricane Andrew, leaving Akula ,our boat, tied up at Rolly Shipyard to face the wrath alone. The next few hell weeks were tormenting for us, not knowing if she had blown away or what circumstances we might find her in, that is if we were able to find her at all and to make matters worse the hurricane had destroyed all the cellular sites as well as  land lines. It's creepy to find yourself in a modern world knowing there is no contact with anyone or anything. You are aware that life does exist just not in Ft. Lauderdale, not even for a business. Schitt!

As the plane touched down, our hearts pounded racing for the taxi. It felt like years had passed before the cab arrived at Rollys and we literally ran to the pier, dragging our suit cases in hope.  "Oh my God there she is!  Look, I rejoiced, there's our beautiful grimy baby!"   Hurricane Andrew had turned her a mucky green from the blown in algae.  Nothing a lot of soap couldn't fix and I felt happier that day than any other day in my life, even up to the present. 

Tossing our belongings aboard, Mark checked her engines and mechanicals while I gleefully grabbed a  bucket hose and soap.  The next afternoon, thank God,  we were headed home to New Orleans by way of the Intracoastal waterway. Both of us knew this would not be a easy trip routing around the blown in debris , which consisted of sunken barges, boats piled atop each other, roofs and construction materials floating in front of us. The only other option we had was to travel out into the open seas and we weren't sure how the newly acquired Akula would handle it.  

I was scared as I stood on the foredeck with the boat hook in hand, traveling a maximum of 5 miles per hour, literally pushing the debris out from the front of Akula's bow. I didn't know I could move an intact home roof with a simple boat hook. I could and I did many times though I constantly worried that her 5' draft may have a danger that lurked below her waterline. Luckily, we were managing.

Florida has the rudest boaters in the entire world.  Not once did any of them slow down as a courtesy nor comply with the "Rules of the Road".  Mark is courteous  and many a passer boater screamed, "Thank You!" 

So much happened on our  6 week trip to get home.  Like, one crazy guy, who fished for a living, running his nets in 15' waves and yelling, "Please call my wife and tell her I'm okay?" Or Mark totally exhausted in the 14' waves that he had to lie down on the hot bunk while I steered.  Suddenly with me at the wheel the pounding and rolling completely ceased. Everything was lovely.  "Judy, you're going the wrong way!" I retorted, "I don't care I'm taking a break!" Then that  day we each got one bite from an apple, depending on if we could catch it, as it rolled back and forth on the dashboard in the wave action.  

There were times I voiced, "I don't think we're going to make it!"  "We'll make it!, said Mark. "How do you know that Mark?" I screamed.  "Because, he said, we're not going home without her!"  Then he winked and grinned,  "It's just you and me kid!"
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