Labor Day weekend 2010 will forever be imprinted in my memory. Although I asked for quiet dockage we were assigned to a slip on the 'party pier from hell'.
Every slip on the pier was filled. Most of the 56 vessels were 24 to 30 foot fast boats with 20 miles per hour cruising speeds. They began leaving the dock to have fun in the sun on Mississippi River about 10:15 a.m.
There was one high performance boat (capable of running at 100 plus MPH) on the pier. It was in the slip two over diagonally from us. Unfortunately it had engine problems. The owner spent the morning working on the engine. He started the engine numerous times.
As you may know high performance boats are loud. The fact that we were in a covered slip (corrugated steel roof) magnified the noise. I felt like I was inside a running shop vacuum every time the engine was revved.
Two hours later the vessel was fixed. It roared out of the marina waking the handful of boats that remained. We were thankful and anticipated a quiet evening.
The boats on the T remained. Their occupants’ got busy setting up for a barbecue. The morning activity confirmed, in our minds, that the T-party was surely a family luncheon reunion.
The music from the T- party stared at 11 a.m. We were docked ten slips away from their sound system. The music was loud but bearable. We were confident now that it was a reunion and that it would over by 4, 5 p.m. the latest.
5 p.m. the T party was in full swing. Boaters returning from their day on the water meandered down to join the group which quickly became a crowd of 50 by 5.pm. The next day we learned that over 100 people came to the T-party.
8 p.m. the guy in the boat across from us decided to drown out the T-Party‘s music with his own. His boat’s speakers faced Freedom’s bow. His visitors conversed by yelling. Eventually they moved down the dock 40 feet to party further away from the music. I wonder if any of them considered asking the owner to turn down the volume.
8:30 we asked the marina staff about quiet time. We were informed that:
· curfew is at midnight
· They are aware of the issues with the weekend transients partying on the pier from hell
· The security guard would come to the pier and quiet everyone down at midnight
· The security guard would make several trips to the party pier from hell to accomplish quiet time.
GREAT!
8:45 p.m. Andrew noticed a man peeing next to our boat. He went outside and sprayed water on the hull just in case the ‘urinator’ hit Freedom. He turned on the outside stern lights to illuminate the area.
9 p.m. Tut began pulling fur out of his right leg. I asked the guy across from us to turn down his music a bit. He did for about 5 minutes. I toyed with the idea of going ‘NJ’ postal on him but opted to lose the battle because we were booked at the marina for two weeks. I didn’t want to be referred to as the crazy lady with the cat on the red tug.
10 p.m. Andrew and I decided to go to bed and cover our ears with pillows. It didn’t help. My ear drums were hurting and sharp pains ran through them into my already damaged brain.
Calling the noise coming out of the boat in front of us music is an overstatement. The rumpus was an insult to all recording artists, even the singers behind the Chuck Cheese puppets. The volume distorted the melody and masked the lyrics. Actually I’m not sure there were lyrics. All I can remember is the constant sound of exploding dynamite, intermittent pounding of jackhammers, frequent sonic booms and the sloshing on my brain in its fluid. There were moments when I thought my brain would detach. This event redefined the term “getting hammered”.
11 p.m. Unable to sleep we sat in the pilot house and watched the drunks stagger by. Some wore light ropes around their necks. Others had plastic drinking glasses with battery operated base lights. We decided we might maintain our sanity if we pretended it was free light show. That helped for a few minutes.
Freedom's interior vibrated. I shock from ‘wits end’ nervousness. Tut continued pulling out his fur creating a three inch by 1/2 inch void. Andrew went into ‘Rain Man shock’ repeating the same question over and over, “When is he going to turn down the music. When is he going to turn down the music. When is he going to turn down the music..."
Thankfully the T Party dissipated as midnight approached.
12:07 a.m.: Andrew went outside and asked the guy to turn his music off. The surprising part was that the guy was alone. His guests had left.
We had trouble sleeping because of our rattled nerves. Tut tossed and turned between us. I had to fight the urge to blow Freedom’s horn at 3, 4 and 5 a.m.
The next day I gave the marina manager a piece of my shattered mind. My volume was loud because I was unable to judge it. We were given one week free dockage to make up for the night of torture. By the way, one week is what it took me and Tut to get over the trauma.
It’s a nice marina but I do not recommend it for weekend stays in the summer.
09.05.2010
I smelled gas. The captain said we need to do a pump out. I disagreed.
Kate and Paul came to visit. They took us to lunch at Tony’s Time Out Bar and Grill. The establishment has off track beating as well as indoor and outdoor dining. Thank you for the visit, lunch and for listening to our nightmare.
When we returned from lunch I smelled gas and this time the Captain smelled it too. Two house batteries had overcharged.
Sallyann's first smile after the party from hell.
Technically Tut becomes a golden looper when we reach Grand Rivers Kentucky.
Heidi, Kelley and Pepper aboard Prime Time, helped us celebrate achieving gold status.
I'm dizzy and my sight is blurry. It must be from too much celebrating.
I better sleep it off so I'm rested for the celebrations in Kentucky. I heard it's going to be the cat's meow!
My duck friends
Duck on left spinning
The Captain fixing something
