Recycling At It's Finest

Last year I sold the Island King's boat. While he was asleep.

In my defense, we bought a beat up old boat, used it hard for a couple of years and then parked it in our driveway. Where it sat for years. Uncovered. Rotting away in the Florida sun.

And making my house look like Fred Sandford's place.

So I sold it to an old boat captain that lives behind us. He was going to use it to haul stuff out to a reef he's building.

But he got a better offer from the people who own The Boathouse. Which is a great little oyster bar on the harbor.

They bought the boat, had the captain paint the hulls and put carpet on the deck and then strip everything else.

The old girl was being turned into a stage for the band at the Boathouse.

We were wandering around the docks the other day and there she sat.

The sign over the gate that opens onto the boat couldn't be more accurate.

I was almost missing her when we walked away but one last look convinced me that selling her was the right thing to do.

The captain may have prettied her up a bit but he must not have fixed the leak in the front.

She's definitely better off as someone else's problem and she's now a spokesboat for recycling as well.