Our furball companion has been real vocal since we arrived in Antigua. Since we are moored in Falmouth Harbor, he doesn’t have the luxury of getting off the boat whenever he fancies like in St. Maarten. Well, he’s been letting us know just how much that bothers him whenever we take off. So we thought he’d be stoked to come to shore this morning for an adventure. Well, apparently the word got out that he was going to see the vet who planned on probing him with a needle. Hell hath no fury like a Bengal scourned. Let me tell you, this cat has quite the pipes. People told us they could here him up and down the docks as we cruised in towards the dingy dock. Apparently little Skidz hadn’t visited his head recently and desperately needed to vacate his bladder. All of a sudden Kyber spots a yellow steam aimed directly at Kahlil’s foot, so without hesitation, Lawless grabed him to better direct the 25 second flow from P’s nether-region. Now the cat has defiled both boats we use so his territory is well marked I guess. Once we got to the dock, P-Kiddy was up to his usual maneuvers; dazzling everyone with is dog-sized girth, and exploring every nook and cranny he could squirm into.
We’ve been scouring Google Earth lately and we think we’ve found a spot that might pick up a swell that’s supposed to peak on Friday. So, if we can sort out the water heater problems, we should be off in search of a mysto wave here while we wait for these non-existent winds to pick up.