We are not joking when we say that Kemah is our “Chief Security Officer”.
More than being a “pit bull” or a big dog, Kemah makes noise – and just like home security on land, opportunistic criminals choose a path of least resistance when assessing targets. In other words, between the boat with the barking dog and the other one without, the “bad guys” mostly go for the boat sans barking pit bull.
Having K on board, as our Chief Security Officer, has been awesome in the sense that we never worry about someone boarding us at night or when we’re away from the boat. It was why, when I was single-handing in Panama I felt comfortable, even though a very serious security breach had recently occurred in the anchorage.
On a much lighter note, we discovered that there is a bit of kryptonite in K’s armor: the sound of a Yamaha 15hp, 2-stroke outboard. Ya see, that’s what we have. So, he thinks everyone with one is us, returning home, to give him pets and cuddles. (shhhh, don’t tell the thieves!)
Similarly, K has recognized our habits and now associates my casual, clearly-oft-used greeting of “Heee-eyyy” as a kind of boat door-bell beckoning him from his slumber on the softest cushion and sending him bounding into the cockpit where he barks until he whines upon seeing our latest visitors.
Click here to jump to the next, most-asked-about, section: The Poop Deck: Potty-training at sea.