You got that right.

I deserved every ticket I ever got in Charleston: legs hanging over the side in the harbour (several), open container (many), not enough life jackets, no whistle, paddle, overpowered (3x), ect....I was 19-21. They knew me and were always friendly and probably could have arrested my punk-ass on more than one occasion. Now I count 'Coasties as some of my best friends. They saved my ass in 1988 and when I am up at my place in VA in the winter, I hang out with them on their little outpost at the Narrows at Cricket Hill, VA. Even been flounder gigging in a Zodiak with twin 300 egg beaters When they rotate out I keep up with some of them via email and Xmas cards. Drove one to the emergency room 50 miles away one time when he broke his leg when we were playing volleyball on the 'base' (more like a beach house with a radio room). I miss ya and hope you are well, Vinnie Lichtenstein