For my friend Mr. M's bachelor party, we all pitched in some money to go on a day and a half long boat trip with booze, food, and fun on the menu. We departed Harris Harbor between 10am and noon on Saturday and returned around 2pm Sunday afternoon. It was just excessive enough to be a great send off, but not excessive enough to involve illegal substances or death. Perfect.
I could try to weave a narrative here and describe the trip at length, but it probably won't translate as well to prose as to actually experiencing something like this. We ate, drank, and made merry. We shot guns, navigated boats, and played games. There was a viking funeral pyre and a sky lantern. More clay pigeons lost their lives to drowning than to gunshot wounds but we were happy as could be.
I told the Capt. Marc that, if I get married, I'm having a bachelor party and I want him to be the captain. Everything about this trip was so right. Everything about this place is so right. Everything about these crazy, beautiful people is so right.
If you're feeling a little envious from this peek into my life, you are justified.