We made it to the ophthalmologist and found out that Tom had a torn retina that had progressed into a detached retina, and he would need surgery. A small tear, if caught early, can be repaired without anesthetic in the doctor's office using a laser, but one that had gone on for weeks, as long as this one had, not to mention all the stress that had been put on it, was going to need something called a scleral buckle. That's a procedure where the doctor goes in and partially cuts some of the muscles holding the eyeball in place and then fastens a band around the eye to hold the retina in place. He told us it is successful about 90% of the time, but in 10% of the cases the retina re-detaches, which leads to more surgery. We have our fingers crossed. The pain is more extensive and the healing process is slower than expected but all we can do is wait. We're hoping it won't go on longer than six weeks.

One breezy morning Tom noticed the sound of flags on nearby boats whipping in the wind and wondered why he couldn't hear ours flapping. Because it wasn't there, that's why. Apparently the flagstaff, along with the flag, were casualties of the big blow on the way in and snapped off. In the roar of the wind, we never heard it. As of this writing, we've been here more than three weeks and the bay has been calm and smooth every day, perfect for the Thursday evening sailboat races and the endless parades of boats that come and go every weekend. We're hoping for such calm conditions when we get the green light to leave. Then too, we've been listening to reports of flooding up north and hope we don't meet too many broken houses and trees rushing downriver toward us. It's a scary thought!

We know now why the engine stalled after the shake-up on the bay. A mechanic found that the primary fuel filter on the engine had gotten plugged up, no doubt from the agitation of old gunk in the tank. Tom changes fuel filters all the time but he never suspected that one because the two 10-micron filters that come before the primary one (a 30-micron) are much finer and should have stopped any particles from reaching it. Somehow, they reached it. Then we had a haul-out because of a vibration, and with the boat out of the water it was easy to spot the cause - three of the four blades on the prop had dings on them and needed straightening. Off it came and was sent to the prop shop where they straightened it, filled it in, and reground it. It came back looking like a new propeller. As far as boat repairs go, Dog River Marina is a great place to be. They have everything you might need, good mechanics and a friendly staff. As for a place for people to stay for a while, it's less than wonderful because the marina is stuck out in the boonies with a highway going by but nothing else around. There are boats here from such far-flung places as Marina del Rey, California; Anchorage, Alaska; Gibraltar, Spain; and Hobart, Tasmania. No doubt each one has an interesting story to go with it but there are no people on board. This is not a liveaboard marina, so the only neighbors we have are those stopping for a night or two. We did have the opportunity to meet some other cruisers who are staying at another marina on Dog River while they finish working on their remodeled Chris Craft they named Bobcat. We had a nice afternoon visiting with Ron and Margaret Ritter (and their cat, Bob). They may be taking a route up to northern Alabama similar to ours so we could cross paths again. We are all eager to get upriver soon before the dreaded hurricane season rears its ugly head. We mark days off the calendar and try to wait patiently for the eye to heal.