Needing a break in what has proven to be a long, long day, I took a walk outside and down the pier to look at Sailing Master. As I strolled by, I noticed a chandler's van delivering supplies. Hmm. I didn't order anything.

After climbing the gangway and saluting the colors, I followed the longshoreman doing the deliveries.

This was something I should have known in the first place. Nick, my First Officer, was checking in the bill of lading, and had refused several products for poor quality. We exchanged handshakes, and he showed me the reasons for refusal, which I agreed with. No leaking or swollen cans in MY galley.

Turned out Nick was restocking for a short charter trip; my sister from Atlanta and brother from California were having a short reunion. Although they did not appreciate my choice of career, they didn't mind taking my yacht out at my expense. But who cares? Let them figure their path to Nirvana; mine was solidly plotted and laid in. I suggested to Nick to restock in a hurry next week, and to stock up luxury foods which wouldn't spoil. I was seriously thinking of a week of voyage soon and wanted the girl ready to weigh anchor on quick command.

Thanking Nick for his care and concern, I asked him when the last time was he turned the engines over? He told me two days, and running like one of Admiral Rickover's submarines. Nick had been a submariner, and his boats were down 3 months non-stop. The metal key around his neck could have started WWIII once upon a time. He'd had some heavy responsibilities, and some of his sea stories would make your hair curl. I had no idea Alberta, Canada was a Major target!

Wandering down to the engine room, I checked the #1 main seal; she'd used a little oil on us last trip. Checking all around her I saw no telltale stains; I did see shiny tool marks on the access, however. I checked her maintainance log hanging on the housing; she'd been serviced 4 days after we made port. I should have known.

I climbed the companionway up to the bridge, called out an engine test warning, and started her up. Running all up to 105# with shafts disengaged, I saw no waver of the needles nor any changes from 'optimum' on program software. Solid and ready. Allowing her to gradually bring down RPM's to idle, I glanced around up topside. Shipshape and Bristol ready, as should be. Returning to the bridge, all unneeded systems were shut down and I headed back down to storage.

Nick was settling up with the chandler; he knew well the laws of the sea. "When we raise the hook, all bills are paid." Getting credits for the rejects, Nick paid the bill and gave a healthy tip for the two deliverymen. We believed in keeping the gears oiled.

Cautioning my First about some of the family behaviors, I reminded him on my absence he was in command. Our Second would be sailing with us again now; freed from Hospital, Jazz was a good officer and fine crewmate. The two of them could handle the boat; they'd be staying shallow and near shore.

Bidding Nick a good trip, I disembarked and went back towards the dungeon, soaking in some of the beautiful February sunlight. Back to work.