Ferry Godmother

My ultimate time on Saturday was cut short. Kathryn's Dad's friend was having a 50th birthday party. The party began with the birthday boy asking me if I was retarded, and then ended with him saying, "Thanks for coming, you're not actually a retard."

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We played 2 points of our second game so we'd have enough time to make the ferry. Kathryn usually cuts these things close, with a last minute dash through a near-empty ferry terminal. But she knows that I like to show up 5-10 minutes early, waste that time sitting at the terminal but knowing full well that I won't have to rush in order to catch the boat. This time, she was giving us a bigger-than-normal buffer, just to make sure I won't stress about making the boat on time.

Oddly enough, I think just telling me that there was a big buffer was enough to make me not worry about it. I still rushed to get showered & dressed after our game, but I was assured that we had been given enough time.

Then there was a bit of traffic. Not to worry; I'm sure we have plenty of time for this.
Then we couldn't find a parking spot. Not to worry; plenty of time.
Then we found one, but it was 5:30, so we had to pay for parking for the next 30 minutes. But there was a family of 6 people huddled around the pay meter, perplexed by all the buttons and words.
Then they figured it out, but paid in coins that only added 1-3 minutes at a time. And they also needed a parking pass for 30 minutes.

At this point, it's 5:33 for a 5:30pm boat. There's a chance it's behind schedule (it's saved us before) but it's mad-dash time. We bolt to the terminal and see that it still says Vessel Boarding. We buy tickets and rush to the gate, only to whiplash at the hip when the digital turnstyle beeped at me. I didn't understand. I pushed harder. I shoved the ticket in front of the skanner, and it beeped again. The beep is supposed to mean "ok", right?

"Boat's gone," said a man in uniform. "Next one is at 6:30pm".

Booooooo. Well, we had tried, but we missed this one. Kathryn gave her folks a call, then we went to Ivers to wait for the next boat in style with a drink in hand.

We relaxed. Well, we were an hour early. Plenty of time to catch the next boat. We're enjoying some snacks while in clear view of the ferry terminal, so there's no reason to stress. We talk about the various Clam-related tools posted on the walls, and how they all appear to be some sort of farming tool combined with a gun. Like an amateur Clam Shovel, which was a small spade at the end of what appeared to be a very long rifle. We concluded that there was no way to feasibly find any use for a shovel that is also a gun, even if you were trying to dig & shoot for clams, but instead this was just a failed prototype of the bayonet. They just hadn't figured out yet that a knife would be better suited strapped to a rifle than a shovel. Close, but no cigar.

We saw the next boat arrive and asked for our check. I still had another appetizer on the way, so we just asked them to make it to go. We paid our bill and strolled over to the ferry terminal once more.

Kathryn tensed up as we entered. She began walking a bit faster.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "It's 6:20. We have plenty of time".

But something wasn't right. Our stroll changed to a trot until we met with the electronic turnstiles again. This time the displays had already changed to Vessel Departed.

"Ugghhh," Kathryn said. "It must have been a 6:20 departure."

And so we sat. Kathyrn called her parents with the news that we had again missed the boat. The next one is at 7:20. We checked it thrice. We wouldn't leave the terminal. We would not miss the third boat. Instead, we stayed there and paid for overpriced and not-quite-as-delicious drinks in the terminal's bar, while playing Flight Control to pass the time.

We did not miss that 3rd boat. It would have been a fun adventure to end the night with, but that was just the beginning.