The day of fire arrived.
The skies were blue, the air warm, and the winds calm. It would be smooth boating from our beautiful spot at the Rincon, back up the channel, and near our return to Bullfrog Marina. This would be the easy part.
The first three hours of traveling passed without incident, as expected, with nearly no traffic until we got within an hour of Bullfrog. Slowly more crafts began to share the channel. I had no worries. I kept the boat traveling from buoy to buoy and changed course only to give way to a few faster houseboats.
As turned off of the main channel and steered into Bullfrog Bay, we spied our target: the waste pump docks. It was now time for me to pilot this boat into a bust marina and onto a public dock. Fortunately, the outer dock was open but that would not matter if I could not dock, or worse smash the hull into the crapper. As luck and maybe some acquired skill would have it I was able to guide the boat to a gentle kiss. And after our procedure, it was time to park the boat into the slip.
Our neighboring slip not only help its boat, but one of its owner sat on the back deck, with her yappy dog, and reading a book. Under her eye, I was able to pivot the boat and drive the boat into its slip without a touch to the dock on either side (with Annette guarding with dock poles of course) (in other words, I would’ve touched without her guidance).
Once the dock lines were secured and the motors placed at rest. The baptism by fire had ended.
And I confirmed a competent captain.
Potty dock confirmed.