Here it is. The day we all were waiting for so patiently. The day that we were going up to New Orleans to partake in the complete and utter debauchery that exists on a nightly basis. Bourbon St, you call my name.
We didn’t leave Port Fourchon until 4, I believe. The morning and early afternoon were logistical planning of “How do we…?” do this or that. Kait was waiting on Enterprise to figure their stuff out and get her the kind of car she needed — one that was big enough to fit several really large acoustic tools in the back, along with luggage and 4 people. They finally pulled through and called us around 11 or 12 to let us know a driver would be buy to pick her and I up by 1 o’clock to go get the rental car. They’re located about 30 minutes north. The rest of the morning was spent hanging outside and enjoying the sunshine. We had some “good ole boys,” as Bailey calls them, pull up along side the boat and talk to us about what we were doing and about fishing. They were really enthusiastic about fishing. They gave Bailey/Johnny/Matt a small tackle box and said they were going to come back along with some bait. Southern hospitality, folks. Or, as Ian later thought, they were giving us a dowry for one of the girls on board. Kait was volunteered in exchange for the fishing supplies. (We love you, Kait).
The crew was preparing to lose Dr. Bob, Tania, Steve, and Kait, but Tania was flying out that night. While John, Sandy, and Johnny were over at Grand Isle looking at the continued damage from the oil spill, the rest of us had a short-lived photo shoot on the boat. My favorite image? As follows.
Kait and I hopped in the Enterprise rent-a-car to head north to fill out the paperwork. We picked up another person on the way there and were treated to a 40 minute long lesson in economics from an industrial ship captain. Where do I even begin with what he was saying to us? Legitimately, I’m not sure how to describe it, but I wish I had a voice recorder going. This guy didn’t even come up for air and I’m not sure what prompted his digression into the world of politics, but woo. He put me to sleep with his ranting. Luckily, Kait was excellent at playing into the conversation. Some key points I remember are: he felt that because the President is a “socialist/communist/progressive party (which are all the same thing to him)” that we would end up as a third world country. He recognized that all renewable energies need to be developed, but that oil is still the driving force behind almost everything – specifically politics. He also stated that the IRS should be done away with and that Americans should just be taxed 25% on everything they purchase. He claimed, “History repeats itself. At first we were fighting the Red Coats. Now it’s the ‘Fed Coats.” Dude, not sure why you think these two 20 something year old girls are invested in your nutty opinion, but I just want to nap on my ride. On a funny note, the car we were given was a Chevy HHR, which is the same car I had in Baltimore about 3 weeks ago. The best part about it is that when you press the accelerator, it just gets louder.
Packed up the car with rapid speed because we were so ready to just get out of Port Fourchon and hit the road. I wrote down directions on how to get to the nearest Goodwill to New Orleans and we headed there. Along the way we looked at the acres and acres of sugarcane that came up to the road and along the other side, the bayou full of shrimping boats. We got to Goodwill about 6 and had aspirations of only staying in there a half hour, just long enough to gather clothes to go out in. Well, an hour and a half later…we had tried things on, made decision and purchases and set off to find the hotel. It was conveniently located right on Canal St, so only a couple blocks off of Bourbon. Dr. Bob met us downstairs and we all bolted up to get ready, splitting a bottle of of Whiskey that Bailey had the foresight to buy us.
Now, the stories of Bourbon St need not be recounted here. Let’s leave it at knowing it was a fun night. Hard not to have a fun night on Bourbon St. And I went to Pat O’Brien’s to be reunited with a Hurricane. I was definitely a very happy camper. Plus, we found this awesome cowboy-themed bar that I absolutely just danced hours away at. (I will share these photos.)
Made it back to the hotel around 3am, I believe and hit the sheets hard. Ah, New Orleans. You always know how to do us right.