The Agrinautica

   "HANDS ALOFT TO SQUIRREL!!!" bellows the captain, a large fellow with a huge fiery red beard. With a quick glance aloft hands note that "George" (the Washington State Flag) is waving towards port, so they scamper to the starboard shrouds and scurry quickly up the ladder-like grid of ratlins and stays. They don't hesitate when they have to climb upside down to ascend the futtocks shrouds under the top platform midway up the mast, and continue up the second set of shrouds. The first two hands to reach the upper topsail yard, about 70 feet above the rolling sea, swing around the mast to the port side and clamber out on the horizontal yard. The second two climb out on the starboard side and once they are all in position on the foot-ropes, they begin to furl the sails.


   But let's rewind a bit, since "hands aloft to furl" is a command that would only be called for as we secure the sails to come back into port. Let's say we want to turn the boat so that instead of coming from the starboard side the wind is coming from the port* side. We're going to need to tack (turn) all the yards around so they are facing the other direction, and the lines that turn the yards are called braces, so we're going to have to call hands to braces, which might sound like "hands to main braces!!" ...or if the officer is feeling particularly saucy (which they frequently are), they might instead holler "HANDS TO BRAIN MACES!!!" (which relates to the sailor's perpetual fear of zombie attack)
   Next we're going to need to pass the "head sails" (pronounced hedsels), the triangular sails on the front of the vessel, from the port side to the starboard side. This is done as the front of the ship passes directly through the eye of the wind, with the command of "Pass the headsails!" The front of the boat being relatively far from the captain, the command is repeated by hands along the length of the vessel until it gets to the bow, frequently changed at some point until it reaches the front as "PASS THE PRETZELS!!"
   A less frequent command is to "board sheet the headsails" **, which is occasionally turned into "EAT THE PRETZELS!!"

   After manoeuvering about for awhile, likely doing battle with those devilish people over on the Lady Washington (such as i_id), it comes time to return to port. Hands aloft to furl (/squirrel) is called, and then the command "hands to mooring stations!" is made, which I always repeat as "HANDS TO BORING STATIONS!!!" and crewmembers report to the appropriate station from which to throw mooring lines and bring us up secure to the dock.

   That evening, while most of the crew is at the Bad Monkey Tavern in Seattle, or Engel's Pub in Edmonds, or Moon Dog II in Port Orchard, or Mac's in Aberdeen, or The Dock in Tacoma or [etc etc etc] *** ... one crewmember must stay behind on "boat watch." At some point someone misspoke and referred to it as "goat watch" and it stuck, and ever since, watching goats has been the activity one was referred to as doing if one had to stay and hold down the boat.

   One of my favourites, however, is "MAIN HORSE!" Three times a day our fearless cook Knuckles would alert us all to the meal being ready by calling out "MAIN COURSE!!" in each of the compartments. This in itself is an intentional nautical pun, since the lowest position for a square sail on a mast is the "course" and the course on the main mast is the "main course."
   But having a fondness for intentional mispronunciations this command frequently gets echoed as "MAIN HOOOORSE!!!!" To this day when I'm talking to former crewmate Kori around lunch time we'll ask one another what they are main horsing upon, what they're main horsing down, or perhaps what is for primary equine.


   While I'm on the subject, there's one other pervasive habit of sailorly speak that's worth remarking upon. Because when you're yelling from one end of the ship to the other through the wind, the inflection of your voice tends to get lost, we frequently add "questionmark" to the end of a sentence that is a question. For example shouting "should I rig the stunsel booms questionmark!" or "should I sky the rafee gear questionmark!" This habit extends to situations in which you can plainly hear the speaker's inflection anyway though, so any former crewmember from at least either of the two boats in our organization is liably to insert "questionmark" onto the end of any sentence that is a question.


* you can remember which side is which because "port" only has four letters just like the word "left," starboard and right on the other hand.. do not have four letters

*** I could probably tell you the best bar to go to in two dozen towns on the coast now (:

The Lady Washington in the San Fran Bay this October, as seen from the Chieftain's topmast
(I have nearly no pictures of the Chieftain at sail as I was invariably ON her)

furzicle

   Hello from San Francisco! We sailed in under the Golden Gate Bridge around 2am the morning of last Friday, having been at sea since the prior Monday (up at Ilwaco in the mouth of the Columbia).

   I stood the 4-8 watch (which is of course both 4-8 AM and PM). It's a pretty decent watch since you get every sunset and sunrise and dinner at 6pm doesn't interrupt your off time. You just gotta go to bed right at 8pm if you want to get eight hours of sleep before your next watch (which of course ends at 8am, by which time it's daytime again!). The 8-12 watch has a better deal in terms of they get to sleep during normal sleeping time, and then the other watch, 12-4, doesn't have any redeeming qualities that I can think of.
   I didn't get to be a watch leader this time since we had a third person with a master's license so they made him the third watch leader. But instead I got to man the wheel for hte majority of my watches. In the watch before mine apparently three of the four people were avid singers and they passed the time by singing all through their night watches. Ours we barely talked at all, preferring to all sullenly gaze off at the horizon as the hours passed by, with an occasional comment on the weather to be answered with an agreement followed by more silence. Not that I'm complaining, it was altogether a very decent transit. Quiet watchmates are better than annoying ones, the weather was nice, and we made excellent time. I've got pictures of most of the sunrises and sunsets, most of them being picturesque. Later maybe I'll put them all up.

   Arriving down here we moored up at Jack London Square in Oakland for the weekend. The highlight of this location was THE bar that I've heard experienced old hands talk about up and down the coast -- Heinhold's First and Last Chance. The bar opened and has been in continuous operation since 1883, and many objects inside are original. It was built from the timbers of an old whaler, and was frequented by sailors from the beginning (it was their "first and last chance" to get a drink before shipping out or upon arriving). In the great 1906 earthquake the entire building shifted and settled at a steep slant, and they've kept it that way so it has an extremely unique slant to the entire place. The clock on the wall is stopped where the quake stopped it.

   It's Fleet Week in San Fran which means there's been a lot of boats about and on Saturday and Sunday the Blue Angels put on an airshow over the bay and we had "front row" seats as it were right in the middle. I got to skylark aloft for some of it, putting me right at eye level of some of the tricks! It was pretty awesome.

   Today we moved over to Pier 40 on the San Fran side of the bay. If anyone is around and wants to visit, just remember that Pier 40 is NOT anywhere near Pier 39.


   We got a new captain right before the transit, this fellow Jake, who is pretty laid back. Now that JB is transferred to the other boat to take over as captain over there I have room to reflect that his sullen moody demeaner was rather unsettling and I'm pretty sure he despised me.
   In addition to this the crew is nearly 100% different from what it was a month or so ago (as tends to happen), and while I've always liked the crew here, for awhile I think too many members of the crew were just a bit TOO charismatic, particularly Tyson and Will, and I had been really starting to develop a complex about being the most boring personality-less person on the crew. Not that the current people aren't interesting and full of personality, but one way or another I haven't been feeling quite so out of it lately.


   I'll only be on the boat for about another week -- getting off sometime after we arrive in Sacramento. From there I'm not exactly sure where I'll go. I really want to visit gratefuladdict in Modesto, I also need to get my car from Monterey, where my cousin has apparently run off with it after naming it Grendel or something, and then of course I need to get back down to southern California.
   On October 30th the schooner Spirit of Dana Point will be transitting from Santa Barbara down to Dana Point and I think I should be able to get myself on it for that. (:


Picture of the Day


Joel cleaning the fresh water tank. To keep it as clean as possible the cleanest article of clothing on the boat was requisitioned for the purpose -- Will's spotted onesy pajamas.


I just uploaded the pictures from two weeks ago that I never got around to putting on flickr due to computer troubles.

One week ago, Tacoma, WA, circa 9:00pm -- It began with a lot of muffled hollering in the hold. Muffled because everyone down there was wearing respirators. Moments later someone popped up, wide eyed, pulled off the respirator long enough to yell "WE'RE LEAKING!!!" and disappeared back below.
   Those of us on deck instinctively lunged towards the hatch before realizing that the main hold was full of toxic chemicals and no more people could be of any use in the tight corner they were working in. Nevertheless the engineer and bosun came rocketing out of the engine room down into the hold, respirators-be-damned.
   The toxic fumes btw were from Ameron, the marine grade paint we use, which apparently utterly destroys your liver. They'd dried out and rust chipped the bilge in the main hold and were setting about painting it when someone bumped something in there that caused the coolant tank under it to start leaking into the bilge. So the good news we soon found out was that we weren't taking on sea water, the bad news is that we were leaking coolant, and therefore couldn't run our port engine.
   And as it happened the next morning we had a five day transit! We worked on attempting to find and seal the leak until around 11:30pm that night and the next morning made the transit up to Port Ludlow, a several hours journey, with the wind dead in our face so we coulnd't sail. Because the prop shaft runs through the bilge we coulnd't work on it during the journey either (despite the engine being off, the shaft still turns as water passes the prop).
   That evening we pumped out more leaked coolant and tried unsuccessfully to find the leak some more.
   Day 2, Tuesday, we left Port Ludlow and headed down the Hood Canal (which is not a man made canal but a long narrow passage), the wind right in our faces again, some 30mph, and the seas a heavy chop. Interesting note, there is a bridge across the mouth of the Hood Canal that opens not upwards like normal bridges but slides slowly open "like the gates of Mordor." We've taken to referring to it as the Gates of Mordor. And that night anchored off this tiny little village called Aoch. That evening we were invited ashore for burgers so we went too and fro via the smallboat.
   Day 3, engine still out, coolant still leaking, and the wind now going the OTHER direction, we motored out of the Hood Canal upwind AGAIN. Seas were once again very rough, there being a "small craft advisory" in effect, which is modern nautical speak for its getting kinda wild out there and you probably shouldn't be out if you're in a small craft or don't totally know what you're doing. So although the original plan had been to anchor just inside the gates of mordor, we instead made an unscheduled stop at Port Ludlow again, since its a particularly well sheltered inlet and about halfway to our next destination (Friday Harbour, San Juan Island). That night I had the 01:00 to 02:00 anchor watch, the water in the inlet was flat as a mirror, the moon was rising big and yellow over the water, and the sky was full of stars.
   Day 4, Thursday, we proceeded up to Friday Harbour. As I recall the weather was quite nice this day, but the wind was still dead in our face. Port engine still offline. In Friday Harbour we were able to moor up and get a taste of civilization, return to everyone's favourite bar (Harry's). Whereas a bookstore was hard to find in Tacoma, on foot in Friday Harbour I was able to visit three in twenty minutes (as I now needed books 12 and 13 of the Patrick O'Brian series). The first place only had books 1 & 11, the second place had several of the earlier books and number 12, and the third place had all of them EXCEPT 13-16. d:
   Day 5, Friday, we left Friday Harbour and headed across the straights of Juan de Fuca to Port Angeles. Once again the wind was too much in front of us for use. Port engine in use now. Shortly after we departed it was reported from below that the port bilge was smoking and the starboard bilge was almost full of water, so we had to stop for a short bit and pump out the bilges and investigate the smoking. At some point during the repairs and tinkering the packing on the port shaft had become too tight, leading to the smooking, this was easily fixed however, and I think we were able to continue with both engines. Weather started out nice but by the end it was wet and wild, with 45mph winds in our faces, pretty rought seas, and thick fog.

   Its three days later and we've cancelled the two sails we had scheduled for today and are making a major effort to get this whole thing fixed. Among other potential problems there was a suspicion that coolant might corrode the sealant being used, so captain was researching that, meanwhile they're trying to empty the coolant tank and fill it with dyed water to find out where it's leaking from. Engineer is out looking for ten 5 gallon buckets to handle the liquids involved, and we're all supposed to put the word out that we need a welder that is either a midget or a contortionist.

   So if you know a midget or contortionist welder, please send them our way.

   Or well, everyone else is doing these repairs today. I have the day off. I feel a bit bad about missing it but I haven't had a real day off since... I think July 25th, and I rather feel I need it.

   So yeah, I'm in Port Angeles. So how's everyone been? Also I'd like to apologize for all the comments and lj messages I haven't responded to. I really really don't have time for these things most of the time.


Picture of the Day

Capt Jimmy valiantly commands the longboat.
Jimmy is no longer the captain, he has been succeeded by JB. I've had three captains and 8 cooks in my five months here.

In camera related news the flash on my camera doesn't work at all. And what's worse is it still tries to use it, making it bungle any picture taken in dim light unless I manually tell it the variables. d:


   And I only have a month and a half left here! O:

   Just a week or so ago we hit an all time low in numbers of crew, Pony as acting captain, myself acting first mate, with Will and Maple Syrup rounding out our crew of 4. As we didn't have a sail that day the captain and his girlfriend the cook had taken the day off (so really there was a crew of six). That night Will was off with his ladyfriend so it was only Pony and I sleeping in the main hold and Maple Syrup in the first mate's bunk in the forecastle (because she's been dating involved with the first mate, who himself had been gone for most of the two weeks around the time).
   In the morning the Captain and cook came back, two crewmembers from the schooner Zodiac joined us (underage kids who couldn't go on the wine tour that boat was about to embark upon) and the awesome miss Josie.

   The other night for the first time the 9 of the 10 usable bunks in the main hold were occupied for the first time I can remember, and we're now burgeoning with 13 or 14 crewmembers. We finally even have an engineer! And there's not one member of our crew that annoys me AND most of them are downright awesome! (:

   I feel like here's actually been a little bit of animosity between the boats lately. Normally there's none at all because nearly all the crew who have been around very long have served on both and consider thme fully two parts of the same thing. However the last battle sail or two I noticed instead of the usual purely witty "jeers" being slung back and forth between the boats many of the jeers emanating from our boat were verging on a bit genuine. I think it's because of my counterpart on the other boat, Brennan. From the start he's been genuinely competitive about saying their boat is better and putting down our boat. As I've said, this is totally not the usual attitude of anyone around here, but he's persisted with it for the month or two since he's been around. Always in his shrill screechy voice in a manner that sounds just a little too serious to pass off as joking he's making comments putting us down in front of us, and it's generating some real resentment.

   We're presently in Roche Harbor, San Juan Island. We've decided it is "Disneyland for Yachters." The only thing here is a big marina full of giant yachts, two restaurants, a hotel, and an airstrip. The marina employees seem to be entirely either attractive blonde girls or douchey looking guys with spiked hair, all between 20-22 years old. When we first arrived we tossed our first mooring line to two such guys on the dock, they let it fall limply to the dock between them and looked at it like it like someone had just dropped a wet towel on their floor and one asked "uh, want me to put that on the pin for you?"

   Sun is still setting around 9pm. Yesterday after dinner several of us went off into the forest in search of a flooded quarry we'd heard about and went swimming. The water was very clear and quite pleasant. As we were walking back through the forest we came upon a free outdoor performance of Shakespeare's "Henry V" at a little wooden stage. ...I like other Shakespeare plays but Henry V apparently is kind of dull and we all snuck off presently and returned to the boat.

   Today I have the day off. Spent an hour this morning fighting unsuccessfully with the internet and then struck off into the forest in search of adventure. Found a big mausoleum and the sculpture park, and just beyond the sculpture park was a nice nature trail. I'm not into crap hippie shit but I found a beautiful little glen with a rustic little bench and the light drabbling down between the leaves of the trees and I daresay it felt so peaceful there I couldn't but sit down and space out until the shrill cacophonous noises of hideous little children coming down the trail rudely brought me back to my senses and caused me to flee the scene.


Picture of the Day


Will on his way up to truck the mast to unfoul "George" (the Washington State flag), with Maple Syrup a little way below him.
As seen from the mizzen truck.


   My parents (yes the illustrious furzicle!) are coming up to visit in about a week. The end of my contract is now in sight, ending just after a five day hop that will bring us down to San Francisco on around Oct 11th. I really wouldn't mind staying on longer but I need to get things squared away for the Peace Corps and earn some real money before I disappear.

   In the meantime I'm going to take the opportunity to do some more hiking in the forest.

   So once upon a time we were anchored off Sucia Island. By once upon a time I mean the week before last. We had left Lake Union, Seattle, through the locks early that morning and arrived at the island around 1700 that afternoon. Coming in we passed the sea scout tallship Odyssey, -a pretty yawl almost as big as our own vessel- moored up to a mooring buoy in the little bay.
   We dropped our anchor, and after dinner we were allowed two hours or so of shore leave, being ferried to shore in groups of three by the small boat. Random fact about the small boat: the HC's smallboat is named "Pele," which amuses me because it's the name of my parents' cat -- what's more, both the cat and the boat are named after the same Pele, the Hawaiian god of volcanoes and mischief.

   Around 2000 or 2100 the Lady Washington finally caught up to us, having taken a different route that took them through Deception Pass, and having had to anchor for a bit down there to wait for the currents to be right to get through the pass. They rafted up to us (ie moored up to us as if we were a dock) and that night both boats stood an anchor watch. For anchor watch one person was on duty at all times (mine was 0400 to 0500). In addition to being on deck, everyone during their hour was to heave the lead line (6 and a half fathoms), note it in the log, take down the bearings of the same three points and note them in the log, note some other things in the log (est wind speed, direction, etc), check the bilges, etc. I got the hour before sunrise, so I didn't get the sunrise itself but I got the gathering pre-dawn light.

   Again that morning we had two hours or so on shore. The entire island is a state park and it's beautiful with really nice hiking trails. I was very excited by the thought that we'd be anchored off the island or one like it for a week for the then-upcoming youth camp.

   Returning to the rendezvous point around 1100 we see the Odyssey at the far end of the bay leaning over to a very alarming angle, and are informed our pick up is going to be delayed because the small boats are all busy pulling people off the Odyssey.
   It seems the vessel struck a rock as it was attempting to leave the bay. Attempts to motor it off only resulted in frying their transmission or some such. As the tide continued to go out the boat tilted at an ever greater angle until it looked almost on its side.
   Meanwhile our two vessels were full of boyscouts, hanging around nervously discussing how they'd miss their ipods and/or other prized possessions left on the boat, should it sink. For our part, while cheery music blasted from the ship's sound system some of our crewmembers took turns climbing to the lowest yardarm on the Lady and diving in from there, or swinging out into the water from "splashlines" coming down from the forecourse yard. It was basically like a pool party for us all afternoon.

   Meanwhile our engineers and command staff spent most of the afternoon working on mitigating the Odyssey situation. Park rangers had come out in a boat with an oil boom to put around the Odyssey but didn't know how to deploy it so our guys ended up doing that, something for which they'll apparently be paid by the state (much to their surprise)
   Low tide was at 1400, the Odyssey was pretty well sideways at that point. But water didn't come in the hatches at that point and from then on things would get better as the tide came in.
   Around 1700, once it was clear the Odyssey would be okay the Lady Washington departed for Blaine. That evening the Odyssey was able to float free from the rocks and we got her tied securely to the side of our boat (towed "on the hip" as they say), and we weighed anchor and proceeded south to Friday Harbour with the Odyssey in tow.
   Arriving there around 2200 we recognized the schooner Zodiac (picture is of it leaving the area the next morning) anchored in a little bay across from Friday Harbour and radioed them for the assistance of their smallboat. They readily sent it over (a zodiac from zodiac?) and we used our two smallboats to maneuver Odyssey on to the dock.
   For our efforts the Odyssey captain signed a salvage contract with us, awarding us "two cases of ginger beer, a bottle of rum, and merit badges" -- the latter in the form of the unofficial "superhero" merit badge apparently.
   Then we all went to the bar and drank copious amounts (but it wasn't as wild as last time we were there).

( More Pictures From These Adventures )

( The very very detailed official report )

   Today I officially have the day off. Today it so happens we're transitting from Olympia to Seattle. This leaves me two options: (A) stay on the boat and do nothing particular with my day off; (B) spend my time and money getting myself to Seattle off the boat -- last time I did this I had to connect between three different transportation services and it was incredibly tedious. So I'm spending my day off on the boat. If we were sailing I'd probably go handle sail just as I would as if it wasn't my day off, but as it happens we're motoring. At least the first mate seemed to understand this is a pretty weak way to have a day off and hopefully I'll get another before two more weeks are out.


   Anywho, I've been meaning to write the stories behind some people's nicknames around here.

   Some people, like Staples Romeo, earn their nicknames, but more often than not they seem to be given immediately, if not prior to a person's arrival.
   One day two years or so ago, it seems Skook, cook at the time on Lady (whom I've never met but heard mentioned in many a story) was feeling delirious, and christmas was coming up, so he exclaimed "for christmas, I want a PONY!" and this desire for a pony spread to others and it was decided that the next new volunteer to show up would be called "Pony." And "when Pony arrives we can have nice things!" and "Pony will have a penis that can tell the future!" and other such mystical anticipation. When Pony descended into the Lady's forecastle for the first time he was greeted by the entire crew enthusiastically exclaiming "PONY'S HERE!!"
   The name stuck ever since and many never learn his real name. No reports on whether or not he can actually tell the future with his divining rod.

   When Knuckles first joined the boat he came up to the captain, not knowing he was the captain (I want to say it was JB at the time? our current first mate) and reported "hey I'm the new cook..." to which JB responded, looking off into the distance and exhaling his cigarette smoke "you shall be called Knuckles," presumably just because it seemed like a random thing to say at the time, but it also stuck like glue.
   When Knuckle's brother joined the crew earlier this year it was inevitable that his name should be ... Fingers.

   Sabrina was from Canada so we called her Maple Syrup. Kelly Snowdon apparently wrote K-Sno on her stuff, and the nickname K-Sno quickly became Queso. Sometimes I change it up and call her Gouda

   Staples Romeo is more of a story. The fellow is always hurting himself. Most prominantly he banged his head so hard on a hatch that he required staples on his head. On the other boat they started calling him "Incident Report," or "India Romeo" for short (since those are the initials IR in phonetic alphabet). Then the two names got combined. It's especially funny because he's particularly infamous on this boat for being all lovey dovey with our shipmate Jenny "Blue Green" Brown until she left and then being allll up in Daisy's business just under 24 hours after Jenny left ... and neglecting to inform Jenny he considered them broken up until a week and a half of this scandalous behaviour.


   Myself, I still don't really have a solid nickname yet. Daisy used to call me "G D" for "garbage disposal" because I'd lurk around until everyone had eaten and then the rest of the food would disappear down my gullet like a ravenous black hole had opened up, but unfortunately as the convention goes, G is Golf in phonetic and "Golf Delta" doesn't make a very good name. I'm presently on the station bill as "Gingerchops" as my muttonchops come in quite rusty coloured but that's a bit unwieldy of a name.


Picture of the Day


There are a lot of jellyfish here.

   This will be ultra fast because I have revielle in 7 jingles at four bells 7 minutes at 1000. Been in Gig Harbour, a cute little place. Had battle sails 6-9pm both days here so they were 14 and 12 hour days, so been busy.
   Crew is now up to 15 or so, seems really crowded after so long with 9. We had a bunch of visiting crew the other day so sailed with 19 crew!

   The other day three of us took the small boat (rubber raft) across the little bay here to the bar (which had its own dock). It was a fun way to get to the bar, weaving between all the sailing boats here.


Picture of the Day

Kelly & Sabrina

Been taking a lot of pictures and got a lot of them posted, especially of my shipmates, so check it out (:

   And now it's time for me to run back to the boat! We're off to Olympia today

   I'm in the galleyhouse washing the dishes from lunch, through the window in front of me I can see the skyscrapers of Seattle across the sound, the boat rocking gently side to side, when over my the music I have going on the galley sound system I hear some moaning and groaning from elsewhere in the ship. "That sounds like zombies!!" I say to myself, grabbing the rolling pin I just cleaned and stepping out.

   Sure enough Sabrina, our newest volunteer (a trapeze artist from Canada!?) is stumbling up the steps out of the main hold. I promptly pretend to whale on her with the rolling pin until she's pretend out of commission. I then turn my attention to Pony, who has emerged from the other companionway. As long as all the zombies are belowdecks I have them in kind of a chokepoint since both companionways come up pretty close together and with the rollingpin I can take them out one by one by killing the zombie emerging from one companionway and then the other. Nevertheless the push me around the side of the galleyhouse. I'm just bashing the brains out of the last one one, and someone in the background is saying "I think Kris just single handedly stopped this zombie uprising!" when Noah grabs me through the galley window. I'd forgotten I was standing next to an open window!

   We do love our zombie drills.


   Saturday was our boat's 22nd birthday. After we finished our workday we made hawaiian punch with a gallon and a half of rum in it, put on some Hawaiian music (we played IZ - Over the Rainbow on loop for a long time with the specific intent of annoying the Lady crew :D ), rigged up hammocks, and those who had them donned hawaiian shirts. Since we're getting close to the longest day of the year now the sunset lasted for about two hours of beautiful pink sky. It was a wonderful evening.
   And meanwhile the crew on the Lady was still working -- they had an evening charter that kept them out till 9pm, by which point our crewmate Will was already passed out!




other recent photos

   "HELP!! HELP ME!!" yelled urgently nearby wakes me in the middle of the night the other night. In the half second it takes me to bolt out of bed I'm already thinking it curious that it's not some disaster pertaining to the ship such as "FIRE!" or "TAKING ON WATER!" but an individual in need of help. But it sounds desperately urgent so I nevertheless continue abolting out of bed into the red glow of the main hold at night.
   Immediately I realize that it is my shipmate Tom having a bad dream. He's literally yelling in his sleep. But he has woken himself up and apologizes profusely to everyone, and we have a good laugh.
   In retrospect I think I remember him mumbling "oh my god!" under his breath much earlier in the night ... I think he may have been dreaming about zombies!!!


   Anywhom I had a pretty decent day off I suppose. In the beginning I was having severe trouble finding anywhere in this godforsaken town that had free wifi, but eventually I found this "Zippy's Java Lounge." It was a bit suspiciously hippie esque but hey they had ample tables and internet and power sockets and were open till nine. I got a hot apple cider, patted the resident dalmatian (named Zippy incidentally) who was sitting on a couch, and settled down. Around seven people showed up with acoustic guitars and started playing bluegrassy music which I found rather pleasant, and then as nine approached it become apparent it was NOT closing at nine but was in fact going to have a bunch of local bands. So I was able to stay at a table in the back here and continue to wrangle pictures on my computer while the mostly-not-terribly-bad bands played. Interesting mix of bands, one rock band, one electronica band, and htis one is kind of hip hop esque.
   It is now 23:54 though and it's supposed to close at midnight, so without further ado, here's the pictures I uploaded today!

I introduced "Awkward Will" to a friendly bumblebee!

MOAR PIXTURES UPLOADED TODAY! .. in reverse chronological order because that's how flickr rollz.