Meanwhile, in Morocco

This is the last of a spate of personal disclosure. What else does one do in a cold February suffering a case of terrestrial cabin fever but think back to warm places.

Morocco? Well, Elizabeth has some connection there, and that’s where Alice is. I suspect she might have failed to hang south after the Azores. Had she gone south, she could have visited her port of registry, Monrovia. No, not the one in Maryland.

She could have visited the seaport of Matadi, Congo. I was a Peace Corps volunteer, starting in the Congo long ago and visited Matadi. It was my introduction to big waterways in Africa. I wanted to buy this pirogue, but my mentor Willie, paddling here, ruled that out for fear I’d be easy crocodile food. He was probably right.

I steamed all about 1500 miles of the Congo between Kinshasa and Kisangani. For some background, check this link, this one, and this one. For a place without roads (I was northeast of Mbandaka at a school on the Lulonga), medical care came through once a year. Here was M/V Mama Yemo in 1974.

Any readers there in Congo? Anyone know someone to forward to there?

Maybe Alice is leading me to where I need to go. Come to think of it, there was an Alice back then too, and she also had a connection with Morocco. That Alice too is long over the horizon.

Other great waterways to come.

Specialized 4*

Personal disclosure continues. This is another big “V’day.” Who would I possibly be photographing in the middle of the Hackensack between the Skyway and the 1-9 bridge?

 

Who’s the businesslike behatted Hudson River skipper of Margarita leaving the Catskills astern? The shirtless pirate behind her is actually an updated Cupid with a weapon aimed in my direction as I relax on the bow.

And who would possibly be standing on the stern of “home” a few years back fashionably attired for the snow season?

It’s Elizabeth, co-captain of my life. Happy Valentine’s Day. She has many specialities, and she introduced me to blogging. Yeah, her specialities are different from mine.
Oh, the white vessel? OK, it’s fiberglass, not steel or wood. And we moved on after three years in this lovely marina because of too many mornings before leaving for work, having to thaw ourselves free of the bulkhead. Defrost our bodies is what I mean, for they had become frozen to the “walls” of the v-berth overnight.

Love endures all, overcomes all, and moves onto land!