Showing posts tagged sea

Sign post right at the end of a long road — a dead end for motorists, but not for sailors!

I am quite pleased with these two shots.  I love the bright blue sky and I love the perspective of the fishing pier, the way it runs out into the sea to meet the horizon.  But I couldn’t think of anything else to write about them, other than that the name was puzzling me.

Cheeca.  

Never heard that word before.  Is it the name of a shark?  As in the logo or is it the name of a fish?  (They say Islamorada is the sports fishing capital of the world, so I took that as a hint.) 

After a little web search I found this piece in the Marlin Magazine

During the 1960s, the lodge came under the control of the Twitchell family. Cynthia Twitchell, also known as “Chee,” was an heiress to the A&P grocery chain. The name Cheeca actually came from combining Cynthia’s nickname with her husband’s first name, Carl. Under the Twitchells, the lodge underwent a major refurbishment, with the addition of the main lodge, more villas along the oceanfront, a golf course and Cheeca’s now iconic wooden fishing pier.

There you have it.  It’s a made up name!  

But the sky is real.

No sign of Spring, as yet.  

The sea is wild with winter and the wind whips across the water.  My eyes are stinging and watery, so, even if Spring was just around the corner, I wouldn’t be able to see her.

"February made me shiver …”

Good Bye B.V.I’s.

The weather’s ultimately the boss, so we waited 2 days for a ‘weather window’, and left Tortola in the early morning.

The sea was like a pond.

But by early afternoon the wind had ideas of its own and the waves were throwing us around like a rugby ball.  As soon as we got further out to sea, we found a huge swell running.  It would rise up behind us, lift up our stern and then down we’d go — surfing!

It was hard work steering through each one.  We could not use ‘Nelson’ our auto-pilot so Robb was glued to the wheel.

The wind would gust through in squalls of up to 33 knots.   

Happy Hour only lasted 10 minutes.  

All the chips blew away.

Water, water … everywhere

I had never seen so much sea.

And sky

nor clouds

and sky

nor clouds

and sky

and sea.

This is how I like my sea — calm and flat !

The sea desires deep hulls -
It swells and rolls.
The screw churns a throb -
Driving, throbbing, progressing.
The sea rolls with love,
Surging, caressing.
Undulating its great loving belly.
The sea is big and old -
Throbbing ships scorn it.

Oily Weather by Ernest Hemingway - Paris ca. 1922

(Poetry January 1923)