At the Wharf

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December 21-28, 2022: I spend seven nights in Orange Beach, AL, discover the truth about Zip the mechanic, make Swamp Soup, and have Christmas dinner with the Brits in the sailboat next door.

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(continued from Fairhope to Orange Beach, AL)

Although I’d originally planned to spend just two nights at the Wharf and then three nights, I wound up spending seven. Why? Well, one reason is that the discounted weekly rate was a steal at $10/foot/week (which comes out to $1.43/foot/day.) Another reason is that there was a cold spell that brought temperatures in the area below freezing for Christmas weekend. And another reason is that marinas were either booked up or simply weren’t answering their phones to take reservations during the holidays. I was kind of stuck there.

But I made the best of it.

A Bike Ride with a Mission

Before the cold weather came in, we had one incredibly beautiful day and that was Thursday. It was sunny and probably the warmest it had been on the trip so far. I knew the cold front was coming in the next day and, at that point, thought I was only staying two or three days. I needed to buy some hardware — specifically, some short screws to attach various hooks and fire extinguishers. The screws I had were simply too long.

So I got out my bicycle — for the first time since Peoria, maybe? — and took a Google-recommended bike route that wound through the waiting area for an amphitheater on the Wharf premises before dumping me on the main road. I rode to what I thought might be a good hardware store. It wasn’t.

I kept riding and, less than a quarter mile farther on, found a great little hardware store: GNG Plumbing. You know the kind. It’s a small space that had had rooms added to it throughout the years and it carries everything. The old guy hanging out is probably the original owner (or his son) and he’s basically supervising a crop of younger guys who actually know what they’re doing and want to help you. In no time at all, I got exactly what I needed, as well as a few other things I didn’t need but managed to make use of anyway.

On the way back, I stopped at the West Marine that just happened to be there. I was (still) looking for a pumpout adapter that I could screw into my waste water port for hands-off operation. This was not a part that they carried in stock, but I was never near a West Marine long enough to have something ordered in. But it may have been a Christmas miracle: the exact part I needed had been returned, unused, just that morning.

And I didn’t even know a West Marine was there until I rode past it on my bicycle.

The New Batteries

After lunch, I got a call from the boat fix-it folks. The guy who would do the battery job was on his way. He showed up about an hour later with a marina cart filled with batteries. There were four gel batteries and a regular maintenance free battery for the engine. It’s a good thing they sent a small guy because he had to crawl into my below-deck storage areas to get at the batteries, which were basically under the aft deck refrigerator.

The guy who came to install the batteries somehow fit into the port side storage area, which offered access to the battery area.

Now if you’ve been reading this blog faithfully, you may remember my initial battery issue and the diagnosis made by Zip, the Volvo mechanic. If you want to read about that now, go on. I’ll wait.

Ready to move on? Well Zip basically told me that the problem I was having was due to the fact that I didn’t have a separate engine starting battery. The engine was connected to the house batteries. I was really pissed off about this since the survey I’d paid $1200 for before buying the boat had said I had four house batteries and one engine battery. This was in direct conflict with what Zip had found after looking in the battery compartment.

In the weeks that followed, after making a lot of waves in the Tugnuts forum and elsewhere, I started giving this a lot of serious thought. I realized that it didn’t make sense. If there was no engine battery, then why did turning the parallel switch to ON give me the workaround I needed? That switch is supposed to link the engine and house batteries for emergencies. If there was no engine battery, it shouldn’t do anything.

Now I was going to find out exactly what the story was.

Let’s just say my opinion of Zip dropped dramatically when the fix-it guy pulled five batteries out from under the deck.

He installed the new batteries. It took about 90 minutes total time. I do not envy the guy. The batteries were heavy — as most batteries are — and they were difficult to get into position under the deck. But he did it. When he was done and took the old batteries away, I signed the paperwork that would charge me more than $2K for five batteries and the installation job and gave the guy a $40 tip.

My battery issues should be solved.

Now if you’re wondering whether I really needed new house batteries as well as the engine battery, I don’t have an answer for you. It could just be the engine starting battery that had gone bad. But why gamble on that? The batteries were 3-1/2 years old and had never really been cycled. The boat was always plugged in at a marina before I bought it. Isn’t it better to just get it all done at once and not have to worry about it? I think so.

And please don’t lecture me here (or in email, for that matter) about battery types or the benefits of lithium. I will ignore you. The job is done and I don’t have to think about it for at least another three years.

Colder than Alabama Should Be

The weather moved in right on schedule: a cold front with bitter cold temperatures. It dropped below 30°F at night, which is nearly unheard of in that area. I ran my electric heater all day and night and more than once I ran my diesel heater early in the morning with the electric heater going. (My diesel heater is amazing.)

Of course, my pups and I had to bundle up every time we went outside. I wore lots of layers because I really didn’t have any warm coats with me. The girls wore the lined denim jacket’s I’d bought for them at Janet’s urging way back in Illinois. We’d hurry out to the grassy area where they did their business and we hurried back. It was just too darn cold to spend any amount of time outdoors.

What did I do instead? I actually got back to this blog for the first time in months, writing about the start of our trip down the inland waterways more than two months after we’d actually done it. I was surprised that I remembered so much. My logbook helped. But what helped more were the photos I’d taken along the way — they really jogged my memory. But I can’t say I wrote much; in seven days at the marina, I only wrote four posts.

With the cold weather, I figured this was the best time to make a batch of Swamp Soup from Sean’s recipe. Although I made only 1/2 the recipe, it still completely filled the largest pot I had. And although it was very good soup, I had a ton of it — far more than what would ever fit in my fridge. Fortunately, it was colder than my fridge right outside my back door so I left it out there for two days, eating a little every day. The first morning, when I checked it, I found it partially frozen.

Swamp Soup simmering on my stove.

The Brits Next Door

Sometime on the morning after I arrived, I got new neighbors on the other side of the long floating dock from my boat: a 40+ foot sailboat. On board were owner/Captain Adrien and crewmember Julie. They were not a couple but they were both British. Adrien had recently purchased the boat and needed crew on board to help him sail it. Julie was an experienced sailor who worked in crew positions on sailboats and motor yachts all over the world. They also had a dog with them — a golden retriever, I think? — named Echo.

They had engine issues. Something to do with leaking oil. They wanted to go to the Bahamas or Cuba and they couldn’t until the engine issue was resolved. They planned to take it back to the New Orleans area, where they started, because they had a mechanic they could trust there. In the meantime, it was Christmas and no one was doing anything to fix anything. (I did mention how lucky I was to get my batteries replaced, didn’t I?)

We got to chatting, as neighbors do, and when it became clear I’d be staying at the Wharf for Christmas, they invited me to Christmas dinner. Adrien was the chef and he was making prime rib. On his boat. There would be Christmas pudding for dessert.

At the appointed hour on Christmas afternoon, I knocked on the side of their boat. It was wicked cold outside and I was all bundled up. I’d brought a bottle of wine from my neighborhood winery back home to share with them. A voice from inside told me to come on in so I boarded the boat, opened the hatch, and made my way down a steep flight of stairs into a surprisingly large lounge area with a table and bench seats. It was cozy warm in there.

In no time at all, Adrien was serving up prime rib with au jus, fresh mashed potatoes, and broccoli. I think there was a salad, too. Everything was delicious. We talked about cruising and sailing and why they wanted to go to Cuba instead of the Bahamas. (The answer is spearfishing, which is one of Adrien’s hobbies.) He talked a bit about living in Portugal and Julie talked a bit about crewing on various boats. It was a great meal with great company. Such a pleasure to be among people who have done so many things in their lives and to hear them talk about them.

My Christmas dinner, prepared entirely on a sailboat.

After dinner, Adrien cleared away the plates and busied himself in the galley again. When he reappeared, it was holding a plate of something brown that was flaming. The Christmas pudding.

“Did you make that here on the boat?” I asked. I had never had Christmas pudding.

“No,” he admitted. “I had it with me. As one does.”

I had them over for dinner the following night. I didn’t make anything special: just some pasta with jarred sauce that I’d doctored up with onions and Italian sausage.

Then they had me over again another night for dinner. That time, it was a pork roast. Adrien was a good cook. I don’t think Julie knew how lucky she was.

The Shopping Center

I did make a few visits to the shopping center adjacent to the marina. It held a collection of shops and restaurants that pretty much met my expectations for a tourist destination — which this didn’t really seem to be. Maybe it was the season? Or the cold?

An aerial view of the shopping center, shot from the Ferris wheel on my last afternoon at the marina.

There were a handful of name brand clothing stores — Columbia or Patagonia and Build-a-Bear come to mind — but mostly shops selling t-shirts and souvenirs. There was a surprising amount of crap for a shopping center that appeared, on the surface, to be upscale. One shop had boldly decided to alienate at least half their potential customer base by adorning the shop with Trump flags. Why businesses do this is beyond me.

Here’s one way to alienate half of your potential customer base: hang flags supporting a polarizing political candidate that at least half the country hates. I shot this through the store window.

The restaurants included the typical sports bars and ice cream/candy shops as well as a few sit down restaurants. The Mo’Bay Beignet Company made fresh beignets to order and they were pretty good — but not as good as Panini Pete’s in Fairhope, which has the best beignets I’ve ever had. The Southern Grind Coffee House had a very pleasant atmosphere, but I admit to being put off by the surly counter staff and religious-themed artwork and items for sale. Vinny’s Pizzeria sold pizza by the slice and the slice I had was good enough. The place that sold oysters — I can’t remember the name or find it on Google Maps right now — apparently shucked oysters a few times a day and then stored them in the fridge until someone bought them; I’m sorry, but I have no desire to eat oysters shucked hours ago.

I decided to try the Thursday prime rib special at Ginny Lane Bar and Grill. Big mistake. It was the absolute worst prime rib I’d had in my life. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the meat had been boiled. It certainly had not been slow roasted as a prime rib should be. It was tough with no flavor. How do you do that to a decent cut of meat? (Yeah, I know: maybe it hadn’t started as a decent cut of meat.) To their credit, however, the baked potato was good.

Needless to say, I was not impressed by the shopping center’s offerings. In fact, I was disappointed. I’d been starved of things to look at or buy for weeks and this just didn’t meet my expectations. Once again, I wished I’d spent more time strolling Fairhope.

There was an AMC movie theater there and I would have gone to a movie there but there was nothing playing that I wanted to see. Bad timing, I guess.

I did go on the Ferris wheel, though. I did it around sunset on my last night at the marina. It wasn’t anything to brag about, but I enjoyed it a lot more than I expected to. There were nice views from up top and I admit that I felt a little sad when I remembered that with my helicopter sold, I’d have fewer opportunities to see things from that perspective in the future.

The view from the Ferris wheel looking out toward the west end of the marina. You can see the mast of the Brits’ sailboat next to my boat.

Miscellaneous Chores

With a week on my hands, I took care of some chores, too. I made a very fast supermarket run with the Brits — Adrien likes to keep the Uber driver waiting so he doesn’t have to wait for a new driver so we were very rushed. I also Ubered over to the post office to mail a package; my Esty jewelry shop was still open and I had made a post-Christmas sale.

I did a few things around the boat, including hanging hooks and permanently fastening fire extinguishers. I also cleaned the inside of the boat, top to bottom, making good use of my vacuum cleaner. And laundry — I must have washed everything.

I flew my drone to get some good aerial shots of the marina with my tiny boat parked among the rental boats and yachts. Basically, I killed time and did some relaxing, recharging my batteries (so to speak) after the harried and occasionally frustrating trip down the inland rivers from Alton.

An aerial view of the Wharf Marina.

The weather eventually warmed back up and, with dolphins and pelicans visiting the marina on a daily basis, my mind eased into a southern, warm weather attitude. I was finally beginning my winter vacation from Washington’s dark and dreariness, which seemed to have followed me to St. Louis and then all the way down to Mobile Bay.

Dinghying

Perhaps the best thing I did, however, was finally take my dinghy out for a ride with the motor on it.

I had already practiced getting the motor on and off the dinghy so that wasn’t anything new. (It didn’t get easier, though.) I hadn’t used the motor yet because I needed to add oil and check the gear lube. Over time, I’d assembled what I needed to do that and I took care of it at the Wharf.

Then, once the motor was mounted on the dinghy, it was a matter of starting the motor for the first time. That was a bit of a challenge until I realized that I had the fuel switch set to external tank rather than internal tank. (The engine holds about 3/4 gallon of fuel.) Once that was resolved, I got the engine started.

After that, I did two rides in the dinghy. The first was around the marina to get the feel of it. The second was across the Gulf ICW to try beaching it for my pups. It didn’t go as well as I liked. First, with me sitting in the back of the boat so I could reach the motor handle, the front end was high. That made maneuvering awkward. Clearly, I needed to move my weight forward, but then how would I steer the boat? Second, on coming into land, I discovered that when the motor hit sand while in gear, it quit. The motor hung a lot lower than I expected it to.

I needed to practice using it and resolve the weight distribution issue. I’d save that for other days.

Prepping to Leave

By Wednesday morning, I was ready to go with my next few stops laid out and even a reservation made. I said goodbye to the Brits next door and got on my way.