I'm going to veer from our boat delivery story for just a moment, so I can share a bit of what was going on in the background at that time. I had recently landed my first Florida contract, functioning under the title of 'Software Analyst.' The project involved a newly purchased application that had been previously rolled out to the work force. The employees completely rejected its adoption. I was engaged for a scant 6 weeks to construct a resolution for all the application's issues and bugs assumed to be at fault.

In that first month, I deduced that curiously, the program generally worked as designed. However, what I did unveil in my analysis of the rebuff, based on the staffs' oft repeated remarks was that:

A) Initiation to the program occurred at the peak of the business's season. AKA "Who has time to deal with this change now?!"

B) The two hour installation was to be manually kicked off after the user logged in to their computer. "The phone is ringing off the hook and I need to get to work!"

C) Only online training was provided to the generally, non-computer savvy staff… "I'm suppose to figure this out on my own?!"

D) …and was to be done at their leisure. "I'm suppose to do this during my LUNCH TIME!?"

and E) There was no go-to expert for the inevitable questions that would occur. "Does ANYONE know how to do this?!"

In other words, the application wasn't the issue. It was the timing, method, and means in which the company chose to implement the software that scored a big, fat F! I started to get a bad feeling about this project. Not only had the corporation attempted to upgrade their system on the cheap, I deduced that I was most likely being used to recoup their costs.

When I presented my contradictory findings to the director 4 weeks hence, they were soundly rejected, and my suspicions were confirmed. They didn't want to make an investment in their staff. They wanted reinforcements for refusing to pay the software provider, a ruse to which I refused to comply.

Which brings me to Monday, the morning our boat was to arrive. I was antsy with anticipation and the last place I wanted to be was away from the action. Don had just called to report that our ship had exited the interstate. And then the project manager called me into his office.

Behind closed doors began a painfully slow delivery of what was perceived as bad news. "I've reviewed your report over the weekend, and spent some time considering its contents. It's obvious you've thoroughly analyzed this project, but you didn't deliver what we're looking for. I've determined that this isn't a good fit for us. You focused on the wrong…

Scarcely able to remain seated, I abruptly interjected "Are we ending our contract early?"

"Uuh…yes. You didn't…"

"Thanks! Pleasure working with you!" I threw over my shoulder as I raced out the door.

Not my most professional moment and honestly, I may have burned that bridge. But I didn't care. I had other bridges I wanted to get to – specifically one that took me over to Anna Maria Island.

From perpendicular directions, Don and I both scampered over to Bradenton Beach Marina where the launch was scheduled. There are two bridges that connect the island to the mainland. The artery off I75 is the Manatee Bridge, over which our trucker traveled to turn onto Gulf Drive.

The marina sits 2 miles down the coast, just south of the Cortez Road Bridge, where Don watched in astonishment as our ship looped back onto the mainland. Seems our trucker made a wrong turn! But that slipup gave me the seconds I needed to make it in time for the big splash.

By this point, Don and I were pretty certain we were this outfit's first gig. Although, after all the mishaps, missteps, and missed turns, our trucker Hugh graciously took the hit on the cost of the escort, and charged us exactly what we were quoted. Hiring him after our original shipper bailed saved us a thousand dollars as well, so we'd little cause to complain. All that mattered now was that she was finally HERE! (Imagine cigars being passed around.)

Our little boat, swaddled in the lift looked so naked without her mast and deck gear. But the numerous delivery debacles put the kibosh on contracting a crane for that afternoon. The dock master regretfully warned we'd have to wait till the end of the week. It was the second time that day that I gladly received bad news. Now we had five days, rather than five hours to put things to right before the marina tossed us off their docks!

My Uncle John showed up to lend a hand. He responded to our gush of gratitude with his often repeated retort of "Nothin' else goin' on around here!"

During their vacation one year, Aunt Marie was captivated by the quaint Gulf Coast island, and announced she was never going home. John said he knew she was serious when the realtor showed up the next morning. He was thus forced to take his retirement a bit earlier than planned, and was still settling down into the laid-back pace of his new situation. We greatly appreciated providing him with some diversion.

Reassembly was a bit more time-consuming than disassembly, mostly because everything that was packed down below; the boom gallowsA fixed arch that sits below the boom and is used to hold the horizontal spar when not employed., the mast pulpitsFixed rails on each side of the mast that provide amidships support., the bow railFixed railing around the bow, or front of the boat., all these unwieldy sculptures were barricaded behind our boxes of housewares. But once we were able to wade through that mayhem, the guys got the caulk squirting and the wrenches ratcheting at breakneck speed.

Every once in awhile, Don interrupted my below decks organization efforts by handing me a threaded thing-a-ma-bob or a damaged do-hicky, and sending me off to the boating goods store. I thought it impressive that getting our boat back together only took two trips to Boaters World, four trips to West Marine, and one rush order from Defender.

Tuesday was spent dodging raindrops while we removed the remains of our possessions from our island digs. The rest of the week gave us the time we needed to install our back-ordered parts, and settle in to the idea that this dream was now our reality. The mast was stepped without incident on Friday, and we finally looked proper boaty. Tomorrow, we were headed out to sea (just Tampa Bay actually) for our first solo journey on our new boat. Destination: Twin Dolphin Marina.