I don't take the Galveston ferry very often. There are a few reasons:
- Early in the morning, when I travel to Galveston, there is usually only one ferry running. If I miss the ferry, all intentions of arriving at work early are dashed, since I have to wait an hour for it to return. Otherwise, if I'm not on the ferry by 5:00 am, more than likely, I won't make to work on Galveston before 6:30 start time. It might even be later, if the crew screws around, or waits for stragglers to load.
-At certain times, the wait for getting on the ferry can be over an hour. That's 40 minutes more than the time required to bypass the ferry and drive down SH 146, to IH 45, then into Galveston.
-You might be the correct number vehicle and end up in the check line. There, they'll make you open your doors, glove box, hood and tool box. They'll rummage around and I resent the intrusion.
So, I usually avoid the ferry.
Still, I get the urge to take that route, and today I did.
I was next to last on a ferry, that was waiting to leave. I drove right on, had no wait and soon was sitting in my pickup, listening to the radio and watching the tourist play with fate and seagull crap. (They like to try and feed them by hand; oblivious of their predicament, until they're spattered.)
The gate went down, the ramp raised....and we sat.
As my mind wondered what was causing the delay, it appeared off the bow. Here's the photo.
Eventually, it moved enough and we went on. I abandoned my pickup to take the photo.
It was kind of interesting. Travelers lined the rail on the liner and tourists lined the rail on the ferry; snapping photos and selfies.
Meanwhile, I had to escape to my truck, since the bird were too close for comfort. I glanced once at the tourists, with the loaf of bread, a gaggle of children and the dive bombers; intent on hitting their target. Soon I was safe from the turd bombs and listened to the radio for the twenty minute ride across Galveston Bay.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.