one of the best parts of the great lakes is endless places to anchor alone.
i love the wild places
i love the wild places
LMAO...break out the MarineBeam
We were anchored early one morning with several other boats waiting for the lock to open into the Dismal Swamp when one skipper stepped on deck with bagpipes and entertained us all with a nice medley. At other marinas on the ICW, heading to Florida, he would perform each morning and was greatly appreciated.At anchor on a peaceful night visiting Zafu in the BVIs, I played my harmonica with Bob Ward and his guitar. I was a little worried about disrupting the anchorage with our music, but I couldn't miss that opportunity to experience life and hoped no one else got annoyed. If anyone had complained, we would have stopped right away with an apology. No big deal. There's always something else to do.
No surprise, crowded anchorages are rare for us on the coast of Maine. I'm reminded of that when I cruise in Southern New England. The worst noise in crowded anchorages are engines and generators running to charge batteries.Just about every boat built with a radio has speakers in the cockpit. Do you use those speakers? Do you worry about noise and other boats?
More to the point, do you think other skippers worry about you when they crank the volume?
How do you approach noise at anchor, and the fine line between your own enjoyment and noise pollution? (And it's okay to rant about generators, too!)
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Obviously you had not named them. Once you name them it’s hard to eat them.When we first got chickens, it turned out that 4of them turned into roosters. Like all my closest neighbors, I live on a 5+ acre lot. I can just see the white house next door through the trees in the Fall. When those roster started to crow, they cared not for daylight hours. Through the logs of my home they were pretty muted. No complaints from the white house either.
I walked over one day.
"Will, what can I do for you?"
"Nothing really, Rusty. I just came over to see how loud my roosters are from over here."
Rusty's wife walked out to say 'hi' just then. "Oh, they are driving us nuts." She told me.
"I'm sorry about that. Give me a couple of days to figure out what to do about it."
Two days later, there was fresh chicken in our freezer. They didn't bother us, no way am I going to live knowing how our neighbors felt.
-Will (Dragonfly)
So true. One of our chicks turned out to be a rooster. The crowing didn't bother us so much as his chasing the dogs around and just taking over the whole yard. He had been named Doris or something, and the grandchildren liked him, so no chicken dinner. We brought him upcountry where a lot of feral chickens live, and let him go. I'm sure with a name like Doris he became one tough rooster.Obviously you had not named them. Once you name them it’s hard to eat them.
Go Saints!PSSS: Oh I forgot, when the Saints win the Super Bowl next year!!
Don't be too sure of that.I use a Bluetooth speaker, so the sound from my boat doesn't travel far.
A friend of mine used to name their chicks "The Colonel", "McNuggets" etc so the kids knew not to get too attached to them.When we first got chickens, it turned out that 4of them turned into roosters. Like all my closest neighbors, I live on a 5+ acre lot. I can just see the white house next door through the trees in the Fall. When those roster started to crow, they cared not for daylight hours. Through the logs of my home they were pretty muted. No complaints from the white house either.
I walked over one day.
"Will, what can I do for you?"
"Nothing really, Rusty. I just came over to see how loud my roosters are from over here."
Rusty's wife walked out to say 'hi' just then. "Oh, they are driving us nuts." She told me.
"I'm sorry about that. Give me a couple of days to figure out what to do about it."
Two days later, there was fresh chicken in our freezer. They didn't bother us, no way am I going to live knowing how our neighbors felt.
-Will (Dragonfly)
My wife named the first three meat birds we got, Winner, Winner, Chicken dinner.A friend of mine used to name their chicks "The Colonel", "McNuggets" etc so the kids knew not to get too attached to them.
When I took my wife to the range for the first time, she scored 5 bullseyes out of 5 shots. I have been a good boy. She now owns a .357 Magnum, so I am even gooder.She has a gun and I do the dishes, vacuum, shovel snow, laundry, and kill the chickens.
It's all about survival.