The Duffy - Newport Beach, CA

Hello again! As promised, here is the 2nd entry of the week or as I would like to call it, “Why I think my California friends are awesome.”

Before I start singing CA praises, I would like to say that I love and I miss my friends in Wisconsin dearly. If I could convince each and every one of them to come out here to live I would. Of course, I would make them open a Champion’s Pub, Alterra Coffee, Apollo Greek restaurant, and a Conejitos if they did. Man, do I miss Conejitos…and this coming from the girl who lives close to some of the best Mexican restaurants around.

My Wisconsin friends are awesome and so are my California friends. One of the many reasons why I love my California friends is their enthusiasm to things, especially new ideas. A problematic trait of Wisconsinites (myself included) is the general wariness to things that sound sort of lame when first mentioned. My personal example is when Beth’s sister took me line dancing. I should have relaxed a bit, laughed and had a good time regardless if it wasn't something I was actually into. But no…instead I sulked in the corner hating every cowboy hat that passed me. My California friends are naturals at relaxing, laughing, and having a good time. As lame as this blog can be either at first mention or in detail, they’re enthusiastic about it. They promote my blog to more strangers than I do. Patrick called me up once to pretty much tell me, “We’re currently sitting around laughing at your blog.” Patrick was also the one who decided to surprise me with this new this weekend idea. All I had to do was be ready at 1 PM on Sunday. How awesome is that?

Kevin and I were indeed ready at 1 PM on Sunday when Patrick picked us up for my surprise new thing this weekend. When I got to the car, I realized that either the surprise was going to be a party thing, most likely on the water, or they were going to kidnap us, cut off our arms and legs, and dump us in the desert with nary a dibble of water between us. Thankfully it was a party thing on the water because I was already really dehydrated that day.

The first couple years I lived in California, I never once was on a boat on the ocean. I used to dream of having a friend who owned a boat, or at least knew someone else who had a boat. I now DO have a friend who has a boat and little did I realize that people who own boats typically know other people who own boats. This is the roundabout way of saying that we went on my friends’ friend’s Duffy, which is a little electric boat with a canopy on top. It was perfect for cruising around Newport Harbor if I do say so myself.

Yeah yeah, another boat entry. I like the ocean. I like boats. I can’t help it. You’ll have to blame Patrick this time though.



So Patrick, Michele, Linda, Dave, Jill, Kevin and I all boarded the Duffy on a sunshine-y Sunday afternoon. The first thing to know about a Duffy is that because it’s a small vessel, you have to evenly distribute the passenger weight to both sides. I think this very fact affected my vertigo just a wee bit. I certainly didn’t want to ask anyone’s weight (or have anyone ask mine for that matter) to do a calculation of body weight to beer and snack ratio thus to allow the Duffy to maintain an even keel. I think most of the time we were all leaning a bit port side. Look at me! I’ve been on enough boats this past year to know which is which!


Patrick would like to show the heathen vs. gentlemen why of tying up a boat.

I think one of the best things about a Duffy is it’s ‘I don’t give a crap, I’m just a floating party boat, wanna a beer?’ attitude. You can just motor around, wave to the big ships passing you by, talk sausage (Kevin’s term), and enjoy the day. You can pretty much stop anywhere in the harbor that has a dock (which most do) without too much hassle. Duffy’s aren’t made for anything but that purpose. So now I have golf cart and Duffy on the list of silly things I would buy if I had a whole bunch of money that I didn’t feel like donating to poor people.



Anyhow, the first stop we made was to get gas. Yeah, it was pretty cool. I’ve always realized that you need to have floating gas stations to fill up your boat but I still am pretty fascinated with a 7-11 on the water. I had to buy a t-shirt. No seriously, I bought a t-shirt.


Ok, it's not a 7-11, but it's damn close.

The next stop was the Balboa Yacht club where Michele was sweet enough to buy us all really really yummy Bloody Marys. This is also where we learned that Patrick ironed Michele’s shirt for her that day. While I personally don’t think that in itself was a big deal, the group ran with it and called poor Patrick ‘nancy’ and ‘whipped’ all day long. ‘Nancy’ and ‘whipped’ are my phrases, I don’t dare report the sausage that Dave was hitting Patrick with. (Did that sound dirty?)


Linda, Patrick, Michele, Dave, Jill, Me, and Kevin (with hat)

After the yacht club and floating around for a couple more hours we headed back. We had planned an evening gathering at my place but I turned into the nancy when I cancelled due to tiredness. I know, I know.

Just because he did this it deserves to be posted.

I want to give a quick thanks to Patrick and Michele for the idea and Dave, Jill and Linda for the laughs. You guys are truly awesome.