Results 1 to 16 of 16

Thread: Planning to get serious

  1. #1
    Viejo del Foro Just Plain John Wayne's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Puerto Cabezas Nicar
    Posts
    13,263
    Blog Entries
    3

    Default Planning to get serious

    A bit with my book writings and this looks like the way to go.

    Anybody know about this "Rental" thing?

    Doesn't sound like a bad deal for 99 dollars a year. And I have all idea I can learn to Master the thing.


    http://office.microsoft.com/en-us/home-premium/
    To be called a "Has Been" I must surmise, is much Greater than to be called a "Nevah Been"... JW...



  2. #2
    just diggin' it Outstanding in the Dirt's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2013
    Location
    Matagalpa Nicaragua
    Posts
    54
    Blog Entries
    2

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    JW you might try a software site like tucows. They have some office suit software there for free. Not written by Microsoft, but many of them are good software. They show user ratings for each piece of software they offer.


    www.tucows.com

  3. #3
    Para aquí para acá Jonh's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    La Florida
    Posts
    15,577
    Blog Entries
    15

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    Also, openoffice.org. free and does everything Microsoft does, without funding Bill Gates' marxist causes.

  4. #4
    Viejo del Foro Just Plain John Wayne's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Puerto Cabezas Nicar
    Posts
    13,263
    Blog Entries
    3

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    I have Open office and dislike it. Fact is I dislike this computer because I like a dumbass did not to on and get the one in English with all the mess in it anyway.. that now I find I must buy or rent to do what I want.

    And yes I don't like it at all a part of my purchase going to further what I am so against to the max.. Stuck between a rock and a hard place I guess...
    To be called a "Has Been" I must surmise, is much Greater than to be called a "Nevah Been"... JW...



  5. #5
    TRN Science officer bill_bly_ca's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2008
    Location
    North of the border, south of the artic Circle (Ontario)
    Posts
    5,274
    Blog Entries
    5

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    Marx Smiles upon his protege from above (Below?)

    Quote Originally Posted by Jonh View Post
    Bill Gates' marxist causes.
    ==================================================
    Dude !!!.... Its a Canal !!! Can you Dig it ??

  6. #6
    Para aquí para acá Jonh's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    La Florida
    Posts
    15,577
    Blog Entries
    15

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    If you have Windows, you can write a manuscript with Word Pad just fine. If you need anything Word Pad doesn't have, you're doing it wrong. All you need is Times Roman 12 point, double spaced, and go. Am I right, Miz Brown?

    For instance, if you want to paste fancy graphics and arrange them artfully, you probably want a Mac computer. All that stuff is the publisher's job to do, not yours.

  7. #7

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    One additional suggestion. If you have a Google Account you automatically get Google Drive. Its remote storage, also called "the cloud". Just open it up and you will see tab on the left side for "Create", allows you to make documents, spread sheets, drawings, presentations, etc. Simple to use, automatically saves them, and they can be accessed anywhere with internet when you log into your Google account.

  8. #8
    Viejo del Foro Just Plain John Wayne's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Puerto Cabezas Nicar
    Posts
    13,263
    Blog Entries
    3

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    I have word pad and it has no auto correct. My Foxfire, or something on here works fine and Y'all know I do need that.

    Right now I am rather frustrated over it, I just spent 2 hours trying to buy on line the program and was brick walled like head butting a steel gurter with that mess of a cluster (you finish it)

    I am now tired and wanna got to bed. This blasted computer the CAPITOL letter button does not work and the Wifi button quit at the same time last night...

    I had Word 2007 in the old computer and it did everything I wanted. I am going to E-Bay to see if I can buy anything like that or even the Word 2013 but I want something I can down load over the net instead of waiting for God knows how long for a disc to get here thru the "Snail Mail?....

    My neighbor has a A-1 rating for his account on E-Bay so if I can find it there and delivered over the net I will be a happy camper...

    BTW O.D. he does have a disc from that Ubangy.com thing out of Soufrica. I have not seen yet what it is but I will..
    To be called a "Has Been" I must surmise, is much Greater than to be called a "Nevah Been"... JW...



  9. #9
    Para aquí para acá Jonh's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    La Florida
    Posts
    15,577
    Blog Entries
    15

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    You should be able to find a cheap copy online somewhere.

  10. #10
    House SOB Little Corn Tom's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Pompano Beach, Florida
    Posts
    9,205
    Blog Entries
    5

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    Quote Originally Posted by Just Plain John Wayne View Post
    I have word pad and it has no auto correct. My Foxfire, or something on here works fine and Y'all know I do need that.

    Right now I am rather frustrated over it, I just spent 2 hours trying to buy on line the program and was brick walled like head butting a steel gurter with that mess of a cluster (you finish it)

    I am now tired and wanna got to bed. This blasted computer the CAPITOL letter button does not work and the Wifi button quit at the same time last night...

    I had Word 2007 in the old computer and it did everything I wanted. I am going to E-Bay to see if I can buy anything like that or even the Word 2013 but I want something I can down load over the net instead of waiting for God knows how long for a disc to get here thru the "Snail Mail?....

    My neighbor has a A-1 rating for his account on E-Bay so if I can find it there and delivered over the net I will be a happy camper...

    BTW O.D. he does have a disc from that Ubangy.com thing out of Soufrica. I have not seen yet what it is but I will..
    Word Pad plus this spell checker is pretty good and the price is right.

    http://www.technospot.net/blogs/add-...rdpad-notepad/
    Life's different here ... It's a whole 'nother pace.

  11. #11
    TRN Science officer bill_bly_ca's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2008
    Location
    North of the border, south of the artic Circle (Ontario)
    Posts
    5,274
    Blog Entries
    5

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    A spell checker is one on the few things in life that can generate the irony of "Planning for gold" as you write about panning for gold....
    ==================================================
    Dude !!!.... Its a Canal !!! Can you Dig it ??

  12. #12
    Viejo del Foro Just Plain John Wayne's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Puerto Cabezas Nicar
    Posts
    13,263
    Blog Entries
    3

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    I just up graded the Apache OpenOffice to 4.0.0 on a lark...

    I like it. I went over a friends short story and was a tickled with it as if I had good sense.

    He sent me a mess and I very quickly cleaned it up and did add a few changes to it. It is no where near what I would publish, but is has promise.

    And it goes like this.............................................. .......


    I walk back intothe wheelhouse, throttle her up a bit and slow her right back down. Ireach under the wheel bench, my hand finding the kill string, and Ipull it with a smile on my face.



    The old dieselends her night of faithful work, and all is momentarily peacefullyquiet. So quiet it is almost deafening, but a bit relaxing at thesame time.



    But boy ohboy..it is hot, hot, hot, the morning sun just a blaring down in thesemi tropics of Southern Florida already.



    I walk back tothe stern and reach down and grab a handful of the smaller shrimp andlay them up on the cap rail. I am gone use them for bait to catch ahuge snapper for cooking later in the afternoon. Man, oh man, justout of the Sea and fresh as can be, those Yellowtail Snapper I justcannot resist them.



    Then I walk overto the cull pile and push some crabs, shiners, sponge, and leechesout through the scupper. The Bottle-nosed dolphins quickly butgracefully rise to the surface to snack on an easy breakfast. Ialways get a kick out of their playful antics. To watch them andtheir interaction with one another is restful to a man of the seasmind.



    The subtlecreaking of the steel rigging, cables, blocks and ropes as the boatslowly rides in the calmer waters where I have chosen to anchor for aday's rest; works on ones bones as well with the calming effect. Thetwo deckhands are about halfway through culling up the daylight towlaying on deck.



    They turn on aradio and locate it on the hatch cover by the Pin Rail now that thenoise coming from Diesel has been shut down. The little transistorradio is a little clearer this morning and tuned into WQAM out ofMiami.



    Deep Purple ispounding out their latest Big Hit “Smoke on the Water” as I siton the rail and bait my hook. I look towards the stern and the wateris already turning yellow with snapper zipping in the chum. Big“Flag” Yellowtails as they are know in that part of the world. Asmile comes to my lips as I can already taste them fried up fordinner tonight.



    I fling the lineabout 15 feet beyond the stern and quickly run out about 8 more handsof line, plenty of slack, and at the end that little shrimp iswaiting to get eaten. I'm intently watching the slack in the line andsee it start moving quickly. And zip, the slack is gone in a heartbeat and the line tightens in the crease between my forefinger andthumb. My forefinger has a piece of small bicycle inner-tube on it sothe monofiliment line does not cut it to the bone on a hard strike. Iyank hard, hooking up, damn I love this kind of fishing.



    I begin pullingquickly hand over hand in case their is a hungry cuda waiting for aquick and easy snack. I have the big flag's head up out of the water,when I notice something drifting past the port side stern. I turn andlook to get a better view and at the same time the cuda slams theflag, a hard pull and all I have left on my line is the head of theflag. I don't care, I cant take my eyes off the object drifting intofull view off the stern.



    I yell at mydeckhand, Frank, get the ketch pole, quick. He hears the urgency inmy voice and jumps off his culling seat runs over to the starboardside, retrieves the 18ft pole and brings it to me. David, my otherdeckhand is already beside me, and were both looking at the floatingobject. Frank hands me the pole, and gets his first look at what weare focused on and I see as big of a smile on his face, as there isalso on mine and Frank's.



    Holy shit, IsThat What I Think It Is?... David climbs up the back ladder as Frankand I get the object hooked and pulled up the port side of the boat.I tell Frank to hold it there while I run up to the wheelhouse andstart the diesel up again, were going to need the wench and a whipline for this. I push the starter button, and notice my hand istrembling, and my heart feels like it's going to beat out of mychest.



    NOTE... OK hereBill,..... A thought just came to me.. What is your targetedreadership? Fishermen that know what the back ladder is going up tothe boom on the boat? Or Knucklehead land loving wannabe’s thatbought ya story because simply it is about the Sea and intriguesthem? You could go much more in depth with descriptions of the boatand even getting a whip line AROUND the Square Grouper. My suggestionis to go further into detail with little things. People notice thatshit.



    I run back to thewench and push it into gear, and it rumbles to life. Frank is alreadyhanging off the bumper, trying to get the hook on the whip linearound the object, when I hear David yell down from the ladder,“Capt. Billy, there must be 20 or 25 more of these just floatingaround us”. I'm so excited my damn knees are shaking now.



    I'm thinking thiskind of thing never happens very often, but today, maybe, just maybe;my luck has changed. Frank gets the whip line secured to the object,I run back to wench and take a couple of wraps around the cat headand begin to wind, Frank pushes the line off the rail, and finallythe object clears the waist rail, and I ease off, and drop what isnow a clearly a dripping wet package onto the deck.



    David scurriesdown the ladder like a damn monkey, Frank is pacing back and forth,damn near hyperventilating, and I cant take my eyes of the wet canvassquare grouper laying on the deck.



    Damn that mustbe at least 60 pounds. A million thoughts are running through mymind. I push the wench out of gear, reach into my pocket and get outmy Queen 440 Stainless Steel pocket knife. Frank and David aresitting on the waist rail looking at me, and both of them are quiet,for probably the first time in their lives.



    This bale hasn'tbeen in the water long, and I ask David, if he saw any boats movingaround when he went up the ladder, and he said he wasn't reallylooking for boats when he went up, so I told him to get his ass backup there and take another look.



    He scampered backup and Frank and I began cutting the top of the bale, or the driestpart anyway. I cut about a foot long slice into it, and was glad tosee it was also wrapped with some type of plastic, and man, did itsmell like fresh Timothy hay.



    I pulled out ahandful of beautiful golden Colombian buds. A million more thoughtsran through my head. I hollered up to David, what do you see, and hereplied " I don't see any boats or planes, only the rest of theshrimp fleet anchored up maybe 10 -12 miles to the East of us”.



    Come on downDavid, we need to go to the wheelhouse and talk about this. The threeof us walked up the side of the cabin and entered through thebunkhouse door, passed through the galley and I reached up and turnedon the Furno 36 mile radar, and sat in the Captains chair. I thenturned on the VHF radio, and turned the channel to number 16, theship to ship ocean communications channel.



    Frank and Davidlooked at me kinda stunned. Damn Billy you ain't gonna tell the CoastGuard about this are you?



    Not right now I’mnot, I just want to listen in, see if there is any chatter, and therewas none. I rotated the channel selector while turning the radar tothe maximum 36 mile range, looking for blips. I didn't see anythingother than the other shrimpers anchored up about 10 and a half milesto the east.



    I looked throughthe wheelhouse windows over the bow, and hell there weren't 25 balesfloating around, there were 50 or more, in a bunch not even hardlymoving on this slack tide. They were in a group within a quarter mileoff the port bow.



    Damn I bet wecould just lay here on anchor and they will drift right by the boatand we can just pluck them outta the water. I looked at David andFrank, and both of them were looking at me. Me, David and Frank wentback along time together. We all grew up in Marathon Florida.



    Went to schooltogether from the 3rd grade, played sports together and we all camefrom commercial fishing families. We were the same age 21 years old,and we knew people in the pot hauling business, how some had madelots of cash.



    This was a uniquetime in the Florida keys, everyone was making money, the mackerelfishermen, the shrimpers, the Florida lobster fishermen, the stonecrabbers, real estate developers, and of course the bars and motels.But the big money was in smuggling weed. Much more lucrative than ingenerations gone by smuggling Whiskey from the Bahamas.







    And there waswork for every type of boat, the shrimpers hauling big loads up fromColumbia and Jamaica. Sometimes they just brought the boats rightinto the docks, and off loaded their loads right into the back ofsemis at the fish houses in the middle of the night. Other times theyoffloaded it onto the smaller fishing boats who took the loads up tothe everglades, and sometimes for different reasons they dumped theirloads overboard.



    Thus was thebirth of the legendary "square groupers" of my generation.



    And now, Frank,David and I were looking at a lot of groupers floating right of thebow. Let me see, man, get me a pencil and paper, I gotta do somemath. I took the pencil from Frank, and again noticed my handtrembling...damn what was a pound of weed selling for now in town?David who would buy pounds once in awhile to finance his trips tovisit family in NC, told me he had paid about 400.00 for the lastpound he bought about 6 months ago at Christmas time.



    I thought, wellthat's retail price so lets figure half of that, so its probably safeto say on the low side those bales dry, probably weigh about 40pounds, right? So 200.00 X 40 comes out to...holy crap.. 8,000.00dollars times 50 bales comes out to 400,000.00 U S Dollars!!! Recheckmy math guys, is this right.



    Both Frank andDavid say at the same time, 400k or 40k, its still a hell of a lot ofmoney, what are we going to do?



    And there it was,the question, six words that could change our lives, for good or forbad, depending on our answer. What are we going to do? That questionkept repeating itself over and over in my mind. I know what I wantedto do, but I am not real sure how to do it, I say to the guys. WEhave to really think this through, Frank says to me, well lets get iton the boat at least, or its going to drift away, and we wont haveany decision to make. David seconds that thought and I am thinkingthe same thing.



    Man, who canreally think clear at a time like this? Sure we can get the weed onthe boat, stuff it in the shrimp hold, and run into Key West or evenback to Marathon. Hell we can take this anywhere up the East or Westcoast of Florida. The problem is what the hell are we going to dowith it when we get to where were going?



    A 65 foot shrimpboat is noticed when it comes into any shrimp dock at any port. Thisboat is not my boat, I am running it for the owner, a friend of myfamily. If we get busted he could loose his boat through no fault ofhis own, and David, Frank and I will get to go to Club Fed, IF we arecaught by any U S Federal Government agencies. Worst case would begetting caught by the State of Florida authorities, convicted ofsmuggling and sent to Rayford Prison.




    Damn, its gettinghotter, the sun is baking now, its close to noon, the last catch ofthe night is still sitting on the back deck and beginning to stink.And the bales are getting closer. The VHF radio channel is quiet, noblips on the radar, no breeze, and the water is as slick as glass.What are we going to do? WE need time to think, but we don't havetime. We are only on our 4th night of a planned 11 day trip, that'swhere our time is I think.




    OK boys, lets getthe anchor up and get these bales in the hole. All the guys on theother boats to the East of us are already in the bunk. Lets do thisas quick as we can, and lets get them all. Three hours later, we haveall that we could see packed away safely in the ice hold, and thehatches on, and the last drag pushed overboard, and the deck washeddown.




    The stern is inorder and we drop the anchor again, its after 4pm and were tired, andhungry.




    Its to damn hotto cook breakfast so we all make a couple sandwiches and chow down.There is still no blips on the radar, or chatter on the VHF station,or any other channels, everything is quiet now, except for thesqueaking of the rigging and the seagulls fighting over a perchingplace on the outriggers. The adrenaline rush is over and were allpretty damn tired, and each of us lost in our thoughts.




    I say to theguys, well in less than 4 hours we have turned from shrimpers tolikely being referred to as smugglers, we were not criminals as yet,how do you guys feel about that?


    Frank say's welldamn, if we get stopped, we could just tell them the truth, we foundthis stuff floating and was bringing it into port to turn it in.




    Yea Frank, Isaid, that's why we did put it all in the ice hold and didn't leaveit on deck for everyone to see. That wont fly, we are committed nowunless we bring all of it back up on the deck, and screw up the VHFradio. That is the only way I see it and go in in the night.




    We sat there andjust let that sink in, it was reality now, the only real choice wehad was to wait for tonight, steam to the West and toss it all backoverboard. Hell we have maybe 400,000.00 Dollars worth of weed onboard, and no plan. We must be crazy. I think we need to sleep onthis.




    I pull of myboots and pants, climb in the bunk, pull off my t-shirt, wipe thesweat off my forehead, lay my head on the pillow and go right tosleep, slept all night till the following morning we did.




    I have asked Godbefore not to leave me with this kind of temptation. I personallyhave no problems with recreational smoking of the weed, or it's usefor treating cancer patients.




    When Daylightcame fine and clear, I had the answer to what we were going to dowith it after I talked it over with David and Frank over a goodbreakfast and some coffee that would float a nail.




    But I do ask thereader, in all honesty...WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?
    To be called a "Has Been" I must surmise, is much Greater than to be called a "Nevah Been"... JW...



  13. #13
    Viejo del Foro Just Plain John Wayne's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Puerto Cabezas Nicar
    Posts
    13,263
    Blog Entries
    3

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    NO, it still gets Effed up STILL with a copy and paste of running words together and spacing problems...

    I will figure it out yet... It is so nice when ya do the work...
    To be called a "Has Been" I must surmise, is much Greater than to be called a "Nevah Been"... JW...



  14. #14
    Viejo del Foro Just Plain John Wayne's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Puerto Cabezas Nicar
    Posts
    13,263
    Blog Entries
    3

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    Now I opened it with Rich Text, let's see what happens with this copy and paste...

    I walk back into the wheelhouse, throttle her up a bit and slow her right back down. I reach under the wheel bench, my hand finding the kill string, and I pull it with a smile on my face.
     
    The old diesel ends her night of faithful work, and all is momentarily peacefully quiet. So quiet it is almost deafening, but a bit relaxing at the same time.
     
    But boy oh boy..it is hot, hot, hot, the morning sun just a blaring down in the semi tropics of Southern Florida already.
     
    I walk back to the stern and reach down and grab a handful of the smaller shrimp and lay them up on the cap rail. I am gone use them for bait to catch a huge snapper for cooking later in the afternoon. Man, oh man, just out of the Sea and fresh as can be, those Yellowtail Snapper I just cannot resist them.
     
    Then I walk over to the cull pile and push some crabs, shiners, sponge, and leeches out through the scupper. The Bottle-nosed dolphins quickly but gracefully rise to the surface to snack on an easy breakfast. I always get a kick out of their playful antics. To watch them and their interaction with one another is restful to a man of the seas mind.
     
    The subtle creaking of the steel rigging, cables, blocks and ropes as the boat slowly rides in the calmer waters where I have chosen to anchor for a day's rest; works on ones bones as well with the calming effect. The two deckhands are about halfway through culling up the daylight tow laying on deck.
     
    They turn on a radio and locate it on the hatch cover by the Pin Rail now that the noise coming from Diesel has been shut down. The little transistor radio is a little clearer this morning and tuned into WQAM out of Miami.
     
    Deep Purple is pounding out their latest Big Hit "Smoke on the Water" as I sit on the rail and bait my hook. I look towards the stern and the water is already turning yellow with snapper zipping in the chum. Big "Flag" Yellowtails as they are know in that part of the world. A smile comes to my lips as I can already taste them fried up for dinner tonight.
     
    I fling the line about 15 feet beyond the stern and quickly run out about 8 more hands of line, plenty of slack, and at the end that little shrimp is waiting to get eaten. I'm intently watching the slack in the line and see it start moving quickly. And zip, the slack is gone in a heart beat and the line tightens in the crease between my forefinger and thumb. My forefinger has a piece of small bicycle inner-tube on it so the monofiliment line does not cut it to the bone on a hard strike. I yank hard, hooking up, damn I love this kind of fishing.
     
    I begin pulling quickly hand over hand in case their is a hungry cuda waiting for a quick and easy snack. I have the big flag's head up out of the water, when I notice something drifting past the port side stern. I turn and look to get a better view and at the same time the cuda slams the flag, a hard pull and all I have left on my line is the head of the flag. I don't care, I cant take my eyes off the object drifting into full view off the stern.
     
    I yell at my deckhand, Frank, get the ketch pole, quick. He hears the urgency in my voice and jumps off his culling seat runs over to the starboard side, retrieves the 18ft pole and brings it to me. David, my other deckhand is already beside me, and were both looking at the floating object. Frank hands me the pole, and gets his first look at what we are focused on and I see as big of a smile on his face, as there is also on mine and Frank's.
     
    Holy shit, Is That What I Think It Is?... David climbs up the back ladder as Frank and I get the object hooked and pulled up the port side of the boat. I tell Frank to hold it there while I run up to the wheelhouse and start the diesel up again, were going to need the wench and a whip line for this. I push the starter button, and notice my hand is trembling, and my heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest.
     
    NOTE... OK here Bill,..... A thought just came to me.. What is your targeted readership? Fishermen that know what the back ladder is going up to the boom on the boat? Or Knucklehead land loving wannabe’s that bought ya story because simply it is about the Sea and intrigues them? You could go much more in depth with descriptions of the boat and even getting a whip line AROUND the Square Grouper. My suggestion is to go further into detail with little things. People notice that shit.
     
    I run back to the wench and push it into gear, and it rumbles to life. Frank is already hanging off the bumper, trying to get the hook on the whip line around the object, when I hear David yell down from the ladder, "Capt. Billy, there must be 20 or 25 more of these just floating around us". I'm so excited my damn knees are shaking now.
     
    I'm thinking this kind of thing never happens very often, but today, maybe, just maybe; my luck has changed. Frank gets the whip line secured to the object, I run back to wench and take a couple of wraps around the cat head and begin to wind, Frank pushes the line off the rail, and finally the object clears the waist rail, and I ease off, and drop what is now a clearly a dripping wet package onto the deck.
     
    David scurries down the ladder like a damn monkey, Frank is pacing back and forth, damn near hyperventilating, and I cant take my eyes of the wet canvas square grouper laying on the deck.
     
    Damn that must be at least 60 pounds. A million thoughts are running through my mind. I push the wench out of gear, reach into my pocket and get out my Queen 440 Stainless Steel pocket knife. Frank and David are sitting on the waist rail looking at me, and both of them are quiet, for probably the first time in their lives.
     
    This bale hasn't been in the water long, and I ask David, if he saw any boats moving around when he went up the ladder, and he said he wasn't really looking for boats when he went up, so I told him to get his ass back up there and take another look.
     
    He scampered back up and Frank and I began cutting the top of the bale, or the driest part anyway. I cut about a foot long slice into it, and was glad to see it was also wrapped with some type of plastic, and man, did it smell like fresh Timothy hay.
     
    I pulled out a handful of beautiful golden Colombian buds. A million more thoughts ran through my head. I hollered up to David, what do you see, and he replied " I don't see any boats or planes, only the rest of the shrimp fleet anchored up maybe 10 -12 miles to the East of us".
     
    Come on down David, we need to go to the wheelhouse and talk about this. The three of us walked up the side of the cabin and entered through the bunkhouse door, passed through the galley and I reached up and turned on the Furno 36 mile radar, and sat in the Captains chair. I then turned on the VHF radio, and turned the channel to number 16, the ship to ship ocean communications channel.
     
    Frank and David looked at me kinda stunned. Damn Billy you ain't gonna tell the Coast Guard about this are you?
     
    Not right now I’m not, I just want to listen in, see if there is any chatter, and there was none. I rotated the channel selector while turning the radar to the maximum 36 mile range, looking for blips. I didn't see anything other than the other shrimpers anchored up about 10 and a half miles to the east.
     
    I looked through the wheelhouse windows over the bow, and hell there weren't 25 bales floating around, there were 50 or more, in a bunch not even hardly moving on this slack tide. They were in a group within a quarter mile off the port bow.
     
    Damn I bet we could just lay here on anchor and they will drift right by the boat and we can just pluck them outta the water. I looked at David and Frank, and both of them were looking at me. Me, David and Frank went back along time together. We all grew up in Marathon Florida.
     
    Went to school together from the 3rd grade, played sports together and we all came from commercial fishing families. We were the same age 21 years old, and we knew people in the pot hauling business, how some had made lots of cash.
     
    This was a unique time in the Florida keys, everyone was making money, the mackerel fishermen, the shrimpers, the Florida lobster fishermen, the stone crabbers, real estate developers, and of course the bars and motels. But the big money was in smuggling weed. Much more lucrative than in generations gone by smuggling Whiskey from the Bahamas.
     

     
    And there was work for every type of boat, the shrimpers hauling big loads up from Columbia and Jamaica. Sometimes they just brought the boats right into the docks, and off loaded their loads right into the back of semis at the fish houses in the middle of the night. Other times they offloaded it onto the smaller fishing boats who took the loads up to the everglades, and sometimes for different reasons they dumped their loads overboard.
     
    Thus was the birth of the legendary "square groupers" of my generation.
     
    And now, Frank, David and I were looking at a lot of groupers floating right of the bow. Let me see, man, get me a pencil and paper, I gotta do some math. I took the pencil from Frank, and again noticed my hand trembling...damn what was a pound of weed selling for now in town? David who would buy pounds once in awhile to finance his trips to visit family in NC, told me he had paid about 400.00 for the last pound he bought about 6 months ago at Christmas time.
     
    I thought, well that's retail price so lets figure half of that, so its probably safe to say on the low side those bales dry, probably weigh about 40 pounds, right? So 200.00 X 40 comes out to...holy crap.. 8,000.00 dollars times 50 bales comes out to 400,000.00 U S Dollars!!! Recheck my math guys, is this right.
     
    Both Frank and David say at the same time, 400k or 40k, its still a hell of a lot of money, what are we going to do?
     
    And there it was, the question, six words that could change our lives, for good or for bad, depending on our answer. What are we going to do? That question kept repeating itself over and over in my mind. I know what I wanted to do, but I am not real sure how to do it, I say to the guys. WE have to really think this through, Frank says to me, well lets get it on the boat at least, or its going to drift away, and we wont have any decision to make. David seconds that thought and I am thinking the same thing.
     
    Man, who can really think clear at a time like this? Sure we can get the weed on the boat, stuff it in the shrimp hold, and run into Key West or even back to Marathon. Hell we can take this anywhere up the East or West coast of Florida. The problem is what the hell are we going to do with it when we get to where were going?
    A 65 foot shrimp boat is noticed when it comes into any shrimp dock at any port. This boat is not my boat, I am running it for the owner, a friend of my family. If we get busted he could loose his boat through no fault of his own, and David, Frank and I will get to go to Club Fed, IF we are caught by any U S Federal Government agencies. Worst case would be getting caught by the State of Florida authorities, convicted of smuggling and sent to Rayford Prison.
     
    Damn, its getting hotter, the sun is baking now, its close to noon, the last catch of the night is still sitting on the back deck and beginning to stink. And the bales are getting closer. The VHF radio channel is quiet, no blips on the radar, no breeze, and the water is as slick as glass. What are we going to do? WE need time to think, but we don't have time. We are only on our 4th night of a planned 11 day trip, that's where our time is I think.
     
    OK boys, lets get the anchor up and get these bales in the hole. All the guys on the other boats to the East of us are already in the bunk. Lets do this as quick as we can, and lets get them all. Three hours later, we have all that we could see packed away safely in the ice hold, and the hatches on, and the last drag pushed overboard, and the deck washed down.
     
    The stern is in order and we drop the anchor again, its after 4pm and were tired, and hungry.
     
    Its to damn hot to cook breakfast so we all make a couple sandwiches and chow down. There is still no blips on the radar, or chatter on the VHF station, or any other channels, everything is quiet now, except for the squeaking of the rigging and the seagulls fighting over a perching place on the outriggers. The adrenaline rush is over and were all pretty damn tired, and each of us lost in our thoughts.
     
    I say to the guys, well in less than 4 hours we have turned from shrimpers to likely being referred to as smugglers, we were not criminals as yet, how do you guys feel about that?
    Frank say's well damn, if we get stopped, we could just tell them the truth, we found this stuff floating and was bringing it into port to turn it in.
     
    Yea Frank, I said, that's why we did put it all in the ice hold and didn't leave it on deck for everyone to see. That wont fly, we are committed now unless we bring all of it back up on the deck, and screw up the VHF radio. That is the only way I see it and go in in the night.
     
    We sat there and just let that sink in, it was reality now, the only real choice we had was to wait for tonight, steam to the West and toss it all back overboard. Hell we have maybe 400,000.00 Dollars worth of weed on board, and no plan. We must be crazy. I think we need to sleep on this.
     
    I pull of my boots and pants, climb in the bunk, pull off my t-shirt, wipe the sweat off my forehead, lay my head on the pillow and go right to sleep, slept all night till the following morning we did.
     
    I have asked God before not to leave me with this kind of temptation. I personally have no problems with recreational smoking of the weed, or it's use for treating cancer patients.
     
    When Daylight came fine and clear, I had the answer to what we were going to do with it after I talked it over with David and Frank over a good breakfast and some coffee that would float a nail.
     
    But I do ask the reader, in all honesty...WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?


    I am gone figure this shit out yet.. the price is as LCT say's is RIGHT...
    To be called a "Has Been" I must surmise, is much Greater than to be called a "Nevah Been"... JW...



  15. #15
    Viejo del Foro Just Plain John Wayne's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Puerto Cabezas Nicar
    Posts
    13,263
    Blog Entries
    3

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    Now I posted this straight out of Open Office on Face Book and it came out just fine...

    I wand to see how it works on here now....

    CaptainLloyd Winstead

    Anornery Virginian that enjoyed a splash of Old Granddad whisky in hismorning coffee and to drink a few beers along all day. And worked uslike hell, making sure we were all fed good and properly paid in thecatches of fishing boat proceeds.


    He had movedhis family as a young man from Virginia to Key Largo. And becamesomewhat of a local icon, and had brought down his wooden planninghulled boat to fish there.


    Iworked not only a couple of mackerel seasons with him, but stayed andworked a lobster potting season with him as well one year. We gotalong just fine, he in many ways was like my father in his nature.



    Hisboat was named the DAR-DOT built of five quarters thick, well curedVirginia pine skin and bent oak ribs and a heart pine keel runningthe length of her, and a Detroit V8 53 engine in in it. And namedafter his daughter Darlene and his wife Miss Dorothy.



    Itwould tote a 10,000 pound load of fish or at one time during slickcalm weather we did rope aboard her in the gill net 15,000 pounds ofthe Spanish mackerel with 5 of us aboard shoving her gunnels almostto the water in doing so. It was a fine craft and he cared for itlike one of his children. She helped him to earn his livelihood.


    Hisoldest son Little Lloyd and Captain Burt had gone in together andbought a Cessna Sky Hawk for Little Lloyd to fly as a fish spotterplane in hunting the schools of Spanish Mackerel. Being careful notto set us all on a blasted school of Black Mullet that paid nothingto anyone, and a hell of a lot of work shucking them out of the netto be thrown back overboard. I don’t know why they had no marketvalue, they were all meat and full of a nice semi orange roe that wasgood in scrambled eggs or just breaded up and fried whole.



    Irode with Little Lloyd a couple of times in the plane, he was sedateand easy going in doing his work and I enjoyed every minute of it. Hehad self installed an extra AvGas tank in it to not over load theplane but could stay aloft alone 8 or 10 hours. Spotting the fish forus before having to look a filling station. 1500 feet in the airflying over the sea, Oh man, it was beautiful, my first plane ride’sever in life.



    Butone of the other spotter pilots named Charlie Riggs that did it uponoccasion. Oh my God, He had been a chopper pilot in Vietnam and hadone of his legs permanently injured in Nam and wore a leg brace fromit. He had seen the worst in mankind having bullets thrown at him anddone his fair share of “Hosing Down” an area in support of USground troops. He scared the mortal crap out of me with hisacrobatics in his plane.



    Hisflying one time when I was with him, hanging the plane in the airstraight up by it’s propeller, backing off the engines RPM’s toan idle and then falling backwards into a barrel roll headed straightat the ground and then putting power back to the propeller torecover, it filled me with vertigo and I nearly puked from it. Helooking over at me and with a sly smile on his face and said Ooop’s.Ooop‘s my butt he did me that way on purpose.



    Inever did get in his plane again, put me on a boat in the worst ofweather any day. Looking back, it was a hell of a ride but Charliecured me of any ambitions to get into aviation. I had not the ballsfor it, but we were not a bunch of sissy’s or pretty boy’splaying at volleyball on the beach. We were catching food fish to bemarketed and to earn an honest dollar. Little Lloyd and Captain Burtcalled their little enterprise Fish Hawk Incorporated.

    .................................................. .................................................. .................................................. ......

    Nope, I still get words that run together on here, but not on FB where it comes out letter perfict....
    To be called a "Has Been" I must surmise, is much Greater than to be called a "Nevah Been"... JW...



  16. #16

    Default Re: Planning to get serious

    Seems like the first words in each paragraph are sticking together, probably some type of text formatting. Great reads tho, Thanks.

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •  
Also visit the False Bluff Blog!