Most of the crew watched the debate tonight. Captain B had the idea to get beer and watch from our donated hotel room. We drank a bunch of Negra Modelo with limes, ate tootsie rolls and Kettle Corn. Bush is of course dedicating to get the very Christian and fearful population even more on his side. We were hoping for more fireworks and were disappointed. I learned that we are building 14 new military bases in Iraq. No wonder they're killing our troops to get their point across.
I served a cold breakfast today - hard boiled eggs, cereal, etc. Then these great beef hot dogs for lunch, on sourdough rolls, with a pineapple salsa I made. Plus rice and black beans. For dinner I served penne with red sauce, more sourdough rolls, a great salad of greens, avocado, tomato and egg with a mustard aioli dressing, and then a side dish of gummi coke bottles :)
Kanaka and I are at odds often lately. The crew has been donated this hotel room, so we can all spend the night in the room, take showers and watch TV. I'm sick, so I prefer to spend these nights in a warm dry place, even if I have to sleep on the floor. But I don't have to sleep on the floor, because there's three big beds in the room. Last night she asked me if she and her boyfriend could have the room to themselves for the night. I told her no, and that it was selfish to ask. She is very self-serving and fake, and I just don't like her.
Boat Funk
I'm down with the sickness known lovingly as Boat Funk. Whenever a New & Improved cold or flu hits a crewmember, we all get it within a few weeks. Sometimes the last person will be fighting it off, then a new volunteer comes aboard and keeps it alive. Last November I developed chronic bronchitis while battling a killer flu that we all caught in Sacramento. A captain that was subbing for our vacationing captain finally made me a doctors appointment in San Diego around Christmas. It's definitely one of the downsides of living with a large crew that deals with the public so much.
Today I made easy meals. Bacon & cereal for breakfast, breaded baked pork chops and onion rings for lunch, with apples and caramel, then beef stew and sourdough bread and sliced tomatoes for dinner. The only thing I made from scratch was the pork chops breading.
Noelle and I just took a walk around Aberdeen. Woohoo! What a town. The highlight was WalMart, where we checked out this year's line of Halloween glow in the dark underwear, and Noelle bought some yarn. She taught me to knit today. I'm working on a scarf. My knitting sucks, it being my first day and all, so when I left the aft cabin she undid my entire 2 inches of scarf and redid my hour of work in about 10 minutes, before I returned. It's the nicest part of my project so far. We veged at the free hotel room all day (between meals), watching part of Spinal Tap, and knitting, and she ordered pizza, and I took a nap. I can't believe after all I feed them they're still hungry.
Some previous captains are over at the boat right now, looking at the gutted heads. They've all been staying at this one old captain's nearby cranberry farm, helping him harvest. The blackwater tank is exposed underneath the beams, because the sole is ripped out. Unfortunately it's a 15 year old tank that has so much calcification that the pump can only empty 25% of it these days. It's full of you know what so they're waiting for a pump truck to come out and suck us dry. It'll still be gross, but not quite AS gross. The people working directly with it might be getting a hepatitis vaccine prior. I'm going to steer clear of that project for sure.
The word is that our boat isn't going to be in Pirate's of the Caribbean II after all. They've chosen Providence and HMS Bounty from the east coast instead. Those boats don't get much respect because Providence is glass, and Bounty is a train wreck. She was built for the movie about her that came out in the 50's, by people who didn't know what the hell they were doing. Everyone who's worked on her has horror stories about fires and other near-death experiences. Kanaka asked Captain B if she should try crewing for them. He said she would literally be putting her life on the line if she did so.
I'm going to take a nice long hot bath in the hotel room. Fair winds!
Today I made easy meals. Bacon & cereal for breakfast, breaded baked pork chops and onion rings for lunch, with apples and caramel, then beef stew and sourdough bread and sliced tomatoes for dinner. The only thing I made from scratch was the pork chops breading.
Noelle and I just took a walk around Aberdeen. Woohoo! What a town. The highlight was WalMart, where we checked out this year's line of Halloween glow in the dark underwear, and Noelle bought some yarn. She taught me to knit today. I'm working on a scarf. My knitting sucks, it being my first day and all, so when I left the aft cabin she undid my entire 2 inches of scarf and redid my hour of work in about 10 minutes, before I returned. It's the nicest part of my project so far. We veged at the free hotel room all day (between meals), watching part of Spinal Tap, and knitting, and she ordered pizza, and I took a nap. I can't believe after all I feed them they're still hungry.
Some previous captains are over at the boat right now, looking at the gutted heads. They've all been staying at this one old captain's nearby cranberry farm, helping him harvest. The blackwater tank is exposed underneath the beams, because the sole is ripped out. Unfortunately it's a 15 year old tank that has so much calcification that the pump can only empty 25% of it these days. It's full of you know what so they're waiting for a pump truck to come out and suck us dry. It'll still be gross, but not quite AS gross. The people working directly with it might be getting a hepatitis vaccine prior. I'm going to steer clear of that project for sure.
The word is that our boat isn't going to be in Pirate's of the Caribbean II after all. They've chosen Providence and HMS Bounty from the east coast instead. Those boats don't get much respect because Providence is glass, and Bounty is a train wreck. She was built for the movie about her that came out in the 50's, by people who didn't know what the hell they were doing. Everyone who's worked on her has horror stories about fires and other near-death experiences. Kanaka asked Captain B if she should try crewing for them. He said she would literally be putting her life on the line if she did so.
I'm going to take a nice long hot bath in the hotel room. Fair winds!
Don't Stuff Too Much Stuff
The remainder of haul-out was uneventful. I did a lot of shopping. Spent $660 at Costco with Kanaka on Tuesday. She's the worst to take along on a provisioning trip. She coaxed me into buying half a dozen baking mixes for things like Mango Bars and Chocolate Decadence Brownies plus two cases of soda. Stocking the boat with soda, or anything single-serving sized, is an organizational nightmare. I have a top loading fridge, freezer and dry storage. No neat pantry shelves with quaint cupboard doors.
The fridge is 2 milk crates deep and holds 8 crates total. There's a compressor under the companionway that I have to turn on when the fridge temperature gets too low. If left on too long, everything will freeze, starting from the bottom. My four bottom crates hold milk, butter, cheese, sour cream, cream cheese, tofu, soymilk, yogurt and condiments. The top crates hold mostly breakfast and lunch stuff plus lots of fresh greens. I put thawing meat on the side, leftovers on top. Stowing individual sodas is just silly. I often forego fresh milk for boxed milk as well. The top loading freezer has a bottom lined a foot deep with packages of pork chops, ground turkey, bacon, chicken breasts, eggo waffles, boca burgers, and all the king salmon that gets donated to us throughout the summer. We stow enough king salmon to live on for months. The large totes on top of the meat are full of frozen veggies, bread, lunchmeat, sliced and shredded cheese and tofu dogs/hot dogs. Then there's two side trays with concentrated juice, hershey's kisses, ice packs, bread yeast and frozen fruit. I forced the crew to finish off their large boxes of ice cream before the boat splashed back in the water and my freezer was filled.
For dry storage I have two four-foot-long benches, plus 2 bunks that lift up and offer 6'x2' of storage, 1 foot deep. Then there's room in the galley for spices and baking supplies. One of the benches has breakfast cereal, the other has boxed milk and soy milk. Under the bunks lies hundreds of canned goods and baking supplies. In the galley I keep 10 gallon buckets of rice, flour, pancake mix and sugar. We used to have huge buckets full of dry beans, powdered sugar, and cornmeal. All of which rarely got used. After a year of storing 20 pounds of powdered sugar, Starr and I ceremoniously sacrificed the entire lot into the mighty Pacific. Besides all this, I have a large, 3 foot deep drawer for onions and potatoes, and we all frequent the "Treasure Chest", which stays stocked with cookies, crackers, candy, popcorn and dried fruit. Right now the peanut butter m&m's are popular. Sour patch kids and snack packs are always a hit. I used to get a lot of beef jerky, but it killed my budget. Oh wait - we also have three swinging hammocks full of fresh fruit.
After the Costco trip, I still had to go to Safeway twice, spending $466 on more dry and frozen goods, then another $180 on produce. I'm allowed to spend $5 per person, per day, which equates to $75/day right now. So far I have bought enough to last just over two weeks, but it'll probably last longer. I serve plenty of greens at first, since they go bad quickly. I also have to make sure the crew doesn't get into my storage and eat ingredients that I need for meals. Plus I can't make too many snacks or they won't eat what I serve at mealtime, and I'll be stuck with leftovers needing storage space, or I'll have to throw food away. Crew can be like goldfish with treats; they just keep eating and eating. It's necessary to stagger the stocking of the treasure chest.
On top of all this, the pots, pans, cookbooks, radio, dishes, mugs, EVERYTHING... has to be stowed for sea in a way that if the boat heeled over 90 degrees, nothing would move. I do my best, with lots of seine twine and bungie cords. Nothing got out of hand on this transit, but it was an easy one. My frying pans full of pancake batter almost got away from me this morning, but not quite.
We hit the water on Friday, and made it to our homeport just today. Check out the pics: ladywashington.org I was pretty worn out that day.
This transit was astonishingly calm. Yesterday morning the ocean was glassy - reflecting cloudy skies in shades of lavender and light blue. We were making too good of time, so we killed an entire day sailing around, and a whole night of heaving to. Sailing in the sun yesterday was awesome. I brought a big bowl of melon and pineapple on deck, and everyone lounged around in the sun, watching this little nuthatch we named "Bosun Bird Ben" the Flying Rig Inspector, hop along all of the stays and footropes and boltropes.
Today we arrived in Aberdeen, and after my HUGE lunch of brown rice w/yellow curry sauce, tons of sauteed veggies, marinated tofu and chicken, we headed over to Drew's parent's house for showers, internet, laundry, cable TV and a sheath making lesson by Eric Allen. I'm making a nice cherry latigo sheath for my myerchin knife.
Tomorrow we begin pulling out the blackwater tank. Ugh. I've got to go to bed so I can get up at 6am to cook breakfast. During a passage debriefing today, I admitted to the crew that I don't like cooking and I'd rather be on deck, so sorry, but I'm going to have a bad attitude sometimes. I told them it would help if they didn't come into the galley (a 3'x5' standing space) for 45 minutes prior to each meal. Hopefully they will remember. John Boy gave me some words of wisdom before he left. "Deal with all the crew's faults and love them anyway". So I try not to sweat the small stuff. I'm trying to live a little more honestly, though too. I'm not going to stuff it down when I get mad. After working three 17-hour days last week, I asked the mate to assign someone to help with a task, and she told me the job was easy and to do it on my own. Totally exhausted, I now felt abused, too. I acted all pissed off for the rest of night, working in the galley. The next morning I told her flat out that I was really pissed that she didn't give me anyone, and that I don't ask for help unless I truly need it. She was very apologetic and said it would never happen again. There was no need for me to stew about it for 12 hours, then! Today one of the crew who is a notorious for gossiping, complaining, and making annoying demands, asked me if I didn't like her. I was very honest with her. I told her a lot of times I don't, and that I'm trying to stay away from people like her cuz I get sucked into that behavior and drama. It feels a lot better to just tell these people what I think rather than deal with my pent up aggression towards them.
I too am a "work in progress" :) And to think that I once thought by this age I'd have it all figured out!
The fridge is 2 milk crates deep and holds 8 crates total. There's a compressor under the companionway that I have to turn on when the fridge temperature gets too low. If left on too long, everything will freeze, starting from the bottom. My four bottom crates hold milk, butter, cheese, sour cream, cream cheese, tofu, soymilk, yogurt and condiments. The top crates hold mostly breakfast and lunch stuff plus lots of fresh greens. I put thawing meat on the side, leftovers on top. Stowing individual sodas is just silly. I often forego fresh milk for boxed milk as well. The top loading freezer has a bottom lined a foot deep with packages of pork chops, ground turkey, bacon, chicken breasts, eggo waffles, boca burgers, and all the king salmon that gets donated to us throughout the summer. We stow enough king salmon to live on for months. The large totes on top of the meat are full of frozen veggies, bread, lunchmeat, sliced and shredded cheese and tofu dogs/hot dogs. Then there's two side trays with concentrated juice, hershey's kisses, ice packs, bread yeast and frozen fruit. I forced the crew to finish off their large boxes of ice cream before the boat splashed back in the water and my freezer was filled.
For dry storage I have two four-foot-long benches, plus 2 bunks that lift up and offer 6'x2' of storage, 1 foot deep. Then there's room in the galley for spices and baking supplies. One of the benches has breakfast cereal, the other has boxed milk and soy milk. Under the bunks lies hundreds of canned goods and baking supplies. In the galley I keep 10 gallon buckets of rice, flour, pancake mix and sugar. We used to have huge buckets full of dry beans, powdered sugar, and cornmeal. All of which rarely got used. After a year of storing 20 pounds of powdered sugar, Starr and I ceremoniously sacrificed the entire lot into the mighty Pacific. Besides all this, I have a large, 3 foot deep drawer for onions and potatoes, and we all frequent the "Treasure Chest", which stays stocked with cookies, crackers, candy, popcorn and dried fruit. Right now the peanut butter m&m's are popular. Sour patch kids and snack packs are always a hit. I used to get a lot of beef jerky, but it killed my budget. Oh wait - we also have three swinging hammocks full of fresh fruit.
After the Costco trip, I still had to go to Safeway twice, spending $466 on more dry and frozen goods, then another $180 on produce. I'm allowed to spend $5 per person, per day, which equates to $75/day right now. So far I have bought enough to last just over two weeks, but it'll probably last longer. I serve plenty of greens at first, since they go bad quickly. I also have to make sure the crew doesn't get into my storage and eat ingredients that I need for meals. Plus I can't make too many snacks or they won't eat what I serve at mealtime, and I'll be stuck with leftovers needing storage space, or I'll have to throw food away. Crew can be like goldfish with treats; they just keep eating and eating. It's necessary to stagger the stocking of the treasure chest.
On top of all this, the pots, pans, cookbooks, radio, dishes, mugs, EVERYTHING... has to be stowed for sea in a way that if the boat heeled over 90 degrees, nothing would move. I do my best, with lots of seine twine and bungie cords. Nothing got out of hand on this transit, but it was an easy one. My frying pans full of pancake batter almost got away from me this morning, but not quite.
We hit the water on Friday, and made it to our homeport just today. Check out the pics: ladywashington.org I was pretty worn out that day.
This transit was astonishingly calm. Yesterday morning the ocean was glassy - reflecting cloudy skies in shades of lavender and light blue. We were making too good of time, so we killed an entire day sailing around, and a whole night of heaving to. Sailing in the sun yesterday was awesome. I brought a big bowl of melon and pineapple on deck, and everyone lounged around in the sun, watching this little nuthatch we named "Bosun Bird Ben" the Flying Rig Inspector, hop along all of the stays and footropes and boltropes.
Today we arrived in Aberdeen, and after my HUGE lunch of brown rice w/yellow curry sauce, tons of sauteed veggies, marinated tofu and chicken, we headed over to Drew's parent's house for showers, internet, laundry, cable TV and a sheath making lesson by Eric Allen. I'm making a nice cherry latigo sheath for my myerchin knife.
Tomorrow we begin pulling out the blackwater tank. Ugh. I've got to go to bed so I can get up at 6am to cook breakfast. During a passage debriefing today, I admitted to the crew that I don't like cooking and I'd rather be on deck, so sorry, but I'm going to have a bad attitude sometimes. I told them it would help if they didn't come into the galley (a 3'x5' standing space) for 45 minutes prior to each meal. Hopefully they will remember. John Boy gave me some words of wisdom before he left. "Deal with all the crew's faults and love them anyway". So I try not to sweat the small stuff. I'm trying to live a little more honestly, though too. I'm not going to stuff it down when I get mad. After working three 17-hour days last week, I asked the mate to assign someone to help with a task, and she told me the job was easy and to do it on my own. Totally exhausted, I now felt abused, too. I acted all pissed off for the rest of night, working in the galley. The next morning I told her flat out that I was really pissed that she didn't give me anyone, and that I don't ask for help unless I truly need it. She was very apologetic and said it would never happen again. There was no need for me to stew about it for 12 hours, then! Today one of the crew who is a notorious for gossiping, complaining, and making annoying demands, asked me if I didn't like her. I was very honest with her. I told her a lot of times I don't, and that I'm trying to stay away from people like her cuz I get sucked into that behavior and drama. It feels a lot better to just tell these people what I think rather than deal with my pent up aggression towards them.
I too am a "work in progress" :) And to think that I once thought by this age I'd have it all figured out!
Hungry Hungry Ocean
Nan got in late last night. As I'm driving to the airport, all depressed and teary about how useless our lives are, the engine starts to sputter. My attitude was really reaching out to the universe and the universe was turning around and kicking my ass for it. The Angelic Voice from the Ether stretched my ear and yelled "Stop wondering if you're bipolar!" "Stop feeling sorry for yourself!" "Even if you ARE going crazy, then you can still have a good time, learn a few things, make the most of it and be useful!" "See what happens when you you act like a pathetic numbnuts?" (the car is sputtering more and more). After convincing myself that I was a spoiled American whiner/slacker who really had no right to be so downtrodden, the car agreed to at least make it to the Arrivals Pick Up for Nan's sake. Then enters the notoriously sad Nan, exclaiming that she had the most awesome time visiting relatives, and her spirit seemed very restored, in my opinion. So all was well again.
My name is Kim and I am a workaholic. Don't laugh! Maybe I'm not always working, but when I'm not, I'm miserable. Just like my friend escapes his depression by drinking. I escape it by working. That's why I've chosen an exciting and interesting career field that requires my full attention almost 24/7. Leaves no time for that totally annoying pastime known as my Journey of Self Discovery.
Got an early start towards the brig this morning. Took a bus downtown, then the ferry over, then another bus to a transfer stop, where I met an old salt with a cap that said "USS Constitution". He noticed my shirt and started talking boats with me. It's lovely to find that an old guy who looks like a bum - dirty, unshaven and constantly spitting - turns out to be VERY much into tall ships, sailing and maritime history. We discussed how cutters, yawls and sloops differ, the history of Naval sailing ships, licensing requirements in the old days, the sinking of the Pride of Baltimore, and fishing boats out of Gloucester, Massachussetts. Funny, I had just started a book this morning called "The Hungry Ocean" by Linda Greenlaw. She's the captain of the "Hannah Boden" fishing vessel that Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonionioni portrayed in the movie The Perfect Storm. I asked the old salt if he knew about her, and he starts telling me stories about her, and her boss, and how she's not really a looker, but she "makes fish" (catches a lot and gets respect), and how the movie made her out to be a classy woman, when actually she'd be likely to take any bloke out behind a pub and "give him a header". His words exactly. I got a kick out of that.
Yikes, gotta go. Kanaka is picking me up. I'm due to go provisioning and start cooking on the brig tonight. I've got $2 to my name, so I doubt there'll be any internet cafe stops in my immediate future. I'll probably get back online in a week though. Lots of love!
My name is Kim and I am a workaholic. Don't laugh! Maybe I'm not always working, but when I'm not, I'm miserable. Just like my friend escapes his depression by drinking. I escape it by working. That's why I've chosen an exciting and interesting career field that requires my full attention almost 24/7. Leaves no time for that totally annoying pastime known as my Journey of Self Discovery.
Got an early start towards the brig this morning. Took a bus downtown, then the ferry over, then another bus to a transfer stop, where I met an old salt with a cap that said "USS Constitution". He noticed my shirt and started talking boats with me. It's lovely to find that an old guy who looks like a bum - dirty, unshaven and constantly spitting - turns out to be VERY much into tall ships, sailing and maritime history. We discussed how cutters, yawls and sloops differ, the history of Naval sailing ships, licensing requirements in the old days, the sinking of the Pride of Baltimore, and fishing boats out of Gloucester, Massachussetts. Funny, I had just started a book this morning called "The Hungry Ocean" by Linda Greenlaw. She's the captain of the "Hannah Boden" fishing vessel that Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonionioni portrayed in the movie The Perfect Storm. I asked the old salt if he knew about her, and he starts telling me stories about her, and her boss, and how she's not really a looker, but she "makes fish" (catches a lot and gets respect), and how the movie made her out to be a classy woman, when actually she'd be likely to take any bloke out behind a pub and "give him a header". His words exactly. I got a kick out of that.
Yikes, gotta go. Kanaka is picking me up. I'm due to go provisioning and start cooking on the brig tonight. I've got $2 to my name, so I doubt there'll be any internet cafe stops in my immediate future. I'll probably get back online in a week though. Lots of love!
PLaNeTaRY sHiFT
It was my full understanding prior to viewing that tears would be shed.
Now I've seen Dancer In The Dark and I'm totally depressed. But I've been a little pissy all day, despite my aspirations of love and happiness for all.
Today I despise all people who try to bring other people down, and make them feel stupid for the things they do or like or believe. I used to do it too. I used to do it the same way my dad does it now- when I felt hurt by that person. Misery loves company.
Fuck anyone who tells me that what I'm interested in is silly, or that my past mistakes determine who I am today.
Fuck anyone who uses me as a pawn in their feuds, or tries to buy my love. And right now I say a big fuck you to all the people who use me as their emotional dumping ground and change the subject when I'm the one who needs someone to talk to.
Yeah, and I let it all happen, and I let it all bother me. So Fuck Me for that too.
Ah, the blog. Perfect outlet for the passive-aggressive.
Now I've seen Dancer In The Dark and I'm totally depressed. But I've been a little pissy all day, despite my aspirations of love and happiness for all.
Today I despise all people who try to bring other people down, and make them feel stupid for the things they do or like or believe. I used to do it too. I used to do it the same way my dad does it now- when I felt hurt by that person. Misery loves company.
Fuck anyone who tells me that what I'm interested in is silly, or that my past mistakes determine who I am today.
Fuck anyone who uses me as a pawn in their feuds, or tries to buy my love. And right now I say a big fuck you to all the people who use me as their emotional dumping ground and change the subject when I'm the one who needs someone to talk to.
Yeah, and I let it all happen, and I let it all bother me. So Fuck Me for that too.
Ah, the blog. Perfect outlet for the passive-aggressive.
Independent, not Jaded!
This weekend's thoughts:
If I ever again get into a relationship with a man, it will be one where both of us are very independent and individualistic, pursuing our own goals and doing exactly what we want to do (even if that means spending time alone). We will be best friends and lovers. Being emotionally available and loving, but not emotionally responsible for one another. I don't mean that he can be a jerk and not have to worry about how I feel - I mean Emotionally Responsible in the way that if one person has some issues to work out, then they really need to resolve them on their own. Others can listen and offer loving support, but one's personal validation and confidence should not be derived from others.
I don't want other people to let their happiness be dependent on my personal life decisions. I don't want to plan my life around anyone, nor have them plan theirs around me.
I believe in love. Being In Love to me is the soulful connection I feel with someone. It also means that person is to me an incredibly beautiful individual, and I only want the best for them, regardless of my selfish desires.
There's probably a dozen people from my past that I am still "In Love" with. If a lot of time goes by without seeing them, they usually appear completely changed, or I have changed, and I no longer feel that soulful connection. But I know that what I once felt will forever stay alive in my brain, and I absolutely cherish the memory.
Ever see "City Slickers"? How the old cowboy describes the "one thing"? When he saw his true love standing on a faraway hill, and didn't even make a move to meet her or have a life with her? I agree with him. I have loving friends and family and I belong to a type of community where I never have to feel lonely. Sometimes the memory of being in love is far better than the weight of a codependent future.
I saw the movie "The Waking Life" this weekend and highly recommend it. This leads me to my other Thoughts:
Don't be an ant. Don't cater to our disposable economy and non-culture. Everything in life is a vibration and it can start with me. Let's evolve into something better!
And on that note - Vote for KERRY!
If I ever again get into a relationship with a man, it will be one where both of us are very independent and individualistic, pursuing our own goals and doing exactly what we want to do (even if that means spending time alone). We will be best friends and lovers. Being emotionally available and loving, but not emotionally responsible for one another. I don't mean that he can be a jerk and not have to worry about how I feel - I mean Emotionally Responsible in the way that if one person has some issues to work out, then they really need to resolve them on their own. Others can listen and offer loving support, but one's personal validation and confidence should not be derived from others.
I don't want other people to let their happiness be dependent on my personal life decisions. I don't want to plan my life around anyone, nor have them plan theirs around me.
I believe in love. Being In Love to me is the soulful connection I feel with someone. It also means that person is to me an incredibly beautiful individual, and I only want the best for them, regardless of my selfish desires.
There's probably a dozen people from my past that I am still "In Love" with. If a lot of time goes by without seeing them, they usually appear completely changed, or I have changed, and I no longer feel that soulful connection. But I know that what I once felt will forever stay alive in my brain, and I absolutely cherish the memory.
Ever see "City Slickers"? How the old cowboy describes the "one thing"? When he saw his true love standing on a faraway hill, and didn't even make a move to meet her or have a life with her? I agree with him. I have loving friends and family and I belong to a type of community where I never have to feel lonely. Sometimes the memory of being in love is far better than the weight of a codependent future.
I saw the movie "The Waking Life" this weekend and highly recommend it. This leads me to my other Thoughts:
Don't be an ant. Don't cater to our disposable economy and non-culture. Everything in life is a vibration and it can start with me. Let's evolve into something better!
And on that note - Vote for KERRY!
I Love Seattle
Back in Seattle, I'm sitting here watching the rain pour down, sometimes so much that visibility is only a few yards. For the next few days I'll have computer access because I'm watching my friend's son while she visits her family in another state.
Sparkle called this morning from the downtown library. After driving down to the waterfront to pick him up, I drove him to a few thrift stores to look for an 8 foot parachute - the kind that the U.S. uses to drop food crates on poor unsuspecting Afghanis. He read that these can be used as sea anchors, so he's looking all over for one. We visited Crawford Nautical School, and I was very pleased to discover that classes for 100 Ton Masters/200 T Near Coastal Mates start every Monday and last a month, costing only $775! That's after the hoops that I have to jump through with the Coast Guard, and I think Captain B. said books were costly too. Sounds like the AB ticket is within my budget for November, then I'll work on saving for the 100T. Sparkle and I then shopped around at Captain's and I bought the folding plastic "Rules of the Road" cheat sheet that I'd seen in Canada a few months ago. Captain M. emailed me and said that Captain B. wants me to be a watch leader (and cook?) so maybe it should appear as though I know what the hell I'm doing. I was a watch leader on this first leg last year, too, so there's no real anxiety there. It'd surprise me if he really had me do that along with cooking, but I'd love to do both.
After a successful experimentation with curry, we went and rented three movies: Lost in Translation, Morvern Callar, and The Seventh Seal. All picked by Sparkle. We watched the first two - my second time seeing Lost in Translation - and I swear that Bill Murray should have got half of the Academy Award for Best Director. It's also my opinion that Sophia Coppola modeled Charlotte after herself. Just watch the special features stuff. A favorite part of this movie is when Charlotte and Bob are in the taxi, returning from a long night of clubs, running around and karaoke, and it's almost 4am and she's looking out the cab window, smiling. It reminds me of those long nights in Waikiki with Sasha and Erik; in the wee hours you're thinking wow, so much crazy, fun shit happened over the last 8 hours! We used to skinnydip right off Waikiki beach, under the floodlights of the Sheraton and Hilton Hotels. We'd walk around, chatting up the bouncers and crazies, cabbing it to the only club that stayed open until 4am, and sitting on their big couch next to the dance floor, watching 2 kids dancing in the smoke. Outside Moose McGillicuddys there was this hotdog stand that smothered their dogs in a heavenly salsa with tomatoes and pineapple and onion. We'd go to Erik's and watch his home videos of his best friend Jill, who would dress up as a paraplegic, alcoholic, weed smoking retro queen with a rainbow wig named "Lovey". Or we'd watch old episodes of Ali G. Or we'd end up at Sasha's, with her roach infested apartment. I'd always crash first, then wake up to see Prince guest starring on Sesame Street with Sasha and Eric passed out. Sasha's dirty apartment was ground-level, because she had a cat. Her first apartment was on the 17th floor. One day she opened her front door, and her first kitten peeled out, took off down the hall and took a flying leap from the outdoor walkway. Didn't even put on the brakes. Sasha was a wild girl. Didn't care about much. I had started hanging out with her because she was the only other single female mainlander at my work. She had majored in Japanese in college, and spent 2 years in Japan. She ended up working in a Hostess Bar, where rich Japanese men come to be served drinks by sexy foreigners in negligees. A lot of the girls moonlighted as prostitutes. She was fluent in Japanese and said that after a while she couldn't tolerate listening to the men berate her, thinking that she could not understand them. She was also heavy into meth and had to get away from it. Oahu isn't exactly an escape from drugs, so it turned out to not be the best choice after all. She was such a bitch to us that Erik and I said we couldn't take it anymore. She moved back to her dad's, got a masters in computer science, and is now wealthy and happily married. We are distant friends and hopefully I'll see her again someday.
Anyway, Morvern Callar is also an awesome film. I think anything Samantha Morton touches is gold anyway. She looks horrible with long dark hair, especially after just seeing her look so great in In America. This is a Scottish film about a girl who's got a pretty fucked up way of dealing with her boyfriend's suicide. But it works for her.
I'll write more tomorrow.
Sparkle called this morning from the downtown library. After driving down to the waterfront to pick him up, I drove him to a few thrift stores to look for an 8 foot parachute - the kind that the U.S. uses to drop food crates on poor unsuspecting Afghanis. He read that these can be used as sea anchors, so he's looking all over for one. We visited Crawford Nautical School, and I was very pleased to discover that classes for 100 Ton Masters/200 T Near Coastal Mates start every Monday and last a month, costing only $775! That's after the hoops that I have to jump through with the Coast Guard, and I think Captain B. said books were costly too. Sounds like the AB ticket is within my budget for November, then I'll work on saving for the 100T. Sparkle and I then shopped around at Captain's and I bought the folding plastic "Rules of the Road" cheat sheet that I'd seen in Canada a few months ago. Captain M. emailed me and said that Captain B. wants me to be a watch leader (and cook?) so maybe it should appear as though I know what the hell I'm doing. I was a watch leader on this first leg last year, too, so there's no real anxiety there. It'd surprise me if he really had me do that along with cooking, but I'd love to do both.
After a successful experimentation with curry, we went and rented three movies: Lost in Translation, Morvern Callar, and The Seventh Seal. All picked by Sparkle. We watched the first two - my second time seeing Lost in Translation - and I swear that Bill Murray should have got half of the Academy Award for Best Director. It's also my opinion that Sophia Coppola modeled Charlotte after herself. Just watch the special features stuff. A favorite part of this movie is when Charlotte and Bob are in the taxi, returning from a long night of clubs, running around and karaoke, and it's almost 4am and she's looking out the cab window, smiling. It reminds me of those long nights in Waikiki with Sasha and Erik; in the wee hours you're thinking wow, so much crazy, fun shit happened over the last 8 hours! We used to skinnydip right off Waikiki beach, under the floodlights of the Sheraton and Hilton Hotels. We'd walk around, chatting up the bouncers and crazies, cabbing it to the only club that stayed open until 4am, and sitting on their big couch next to the dance floor, watching 2 kids dancing in the smoke. Outside Moose McGillicuddys there was this hotdog stand that smothered their dogs in a heavenly salsa with tomatoes and pineapple and onion. We'd go to Erik's and watch his home videos of his best friend Jill, who would dress up as a paraplegic, alcoholic, weed smoking retro queen with a rainbow wig named "Lovey". Or we'd watch old episodes of Ali G. Or we'd end up at Sasha's, with her roach infested apartment. I'd always crash first, then wake up to see Prince guest starring on Sesame Street with Sasha and Eric passed out. Sasha's dirty apartment was ground-level, because she had a cat. Her first apartment was on the 17th floor. One day she opened her front door, and her first kitten peeled out, took off down the hall and took a flying leap from the outdoor walkway. Didn't even put on the brakes. Sasha was a wild girl. Didn't care about much. I had started hanging out with her because she was the only other single female mainlander at my work. She had majored in Japanese in college, and spent 2 years in Japan. She ended up working in a Hostess Bar, where rich Japanese men come to be served drinks by sexy foreigners in negligees. A lot of the girls moonlighted as prostitutes. She was fluent in Japanese and said that after a while she couldn't tolerate listening to the men berate her, thinking that she could not understand them. She was also heavy into meth and had to get away from it. Oahu isn't exactly an escape from drugs, so it turned out to not be the best choice after all. She was such a bitch to us that Erik and I said we couldn't take it anymore. She moved back to her dad's, got a masters in computer science, and is now wealthy and happily married. We are distant friends and hopefully I'll see her again someday.
Anyway, Morvern Callar is also an awesome film. I think anything Samantha Morton touches is gold anyway. She looks horrible with long dark hair, especially after just seeing her look so great in In America. This is a Scottish film about a girl who's got a pretty fucked up way of dealing with her boyfriend's suicide. But it works for her.
I'll write more tomorrow.
Boat Stuff / Rambling
Hmm so what's been going on with me this last week? Boat stuff mostly. That and watching drama unfold around me, trying to avoid it as much as possible. But I'll ramble about that later in this post, so feel free to focus only on the first half.
Last Thursday brought the opportunity to motor and sail north to the festival aboard a classic wooden boat from Seattle. My old shipmate Swilley invited me aboard with two other crew. His captain finally taught me how to eyesplice in a way that won't slip my brain. We set the sails upon arrival, had a few beers while sailing around, almost running over Isaiah and Utilikilt-Boy floating in the bay aboard the brig's very tiny dory, with a makeshift squar's'l set. Isaiah and UB probably weigh over 250lbs each. A half mile offshore, they start standing up and moving around in the World's Smallest Dory. Swilley and I were anticipating a rescue mission, but all was well.
Friday was far more exciting. A 3 foot chop at the dock with gusts up to 35 knots kept the brig from even leaving on her night sail. We were docked somewhat close to the beach (found ourselves grounded every morning) with wind and water pushing towards shore. Captain Evil put the boat in full reverse, which still offered no slack in the after-leading and stern lines! We set to rigging more docklines - several of us up to our knees in the swells sweeping over the floating dock, the rest on board rigging chafe gear and hauling the thick lines taut. During all this we watched as a sailboat parted from its anchor and bobbed towards shore, fortunately beaching itself on the only small stretch of sand for miles around. Another boat was not so lucky - we found it the next morning up on the rocks.
The festival was uneventful. Not as many big boats, not as many old friends wandering the grounds. On Monday the crew went to see the movie Hero, which I enjoyed, and on Tuesday the boat hauled out. Several captains came to see the bit of keel damage done on an uncharted rock this summer. Later that day I helped remove the long piece of iron off the foot and stem.
That's pretty much it for the boat stuff this last week.
As far as the drama, could someone please beam me up to a world where everyone isn't in constant turmoil? Cuz that's my fantasy right now. Doesn't sound like an exciting fantasy, but oh what a relief it'd be. I truly love all these people who are going through their different dilemmas. I want to know how they are doing, listen to them when they need me, and help them without getting "involved". But I cannot help but worry about them and this gives me anxiety.
Two of my friends are in a relationship, but one of them is confused, and leading the girl on. The friend who is confused shares feelings of confusion and disillusionment, a clouded sense of direction in life, plus the inability to truly believe in himself. This person is so incredible, so dedicated and thoroughly self-trained in his field, a motivating leader - people look up to him and often think to themselves "I could never be that good". Sitting back and watching him work on his relationships, which rarely end well, over the last year has been heartbreaking. He does so many things right, but he doesn't know how to break up with someone. I worry that he's afraid to be alone.
Then there's the girl. She's young but really fucking cool. She's all about avoiding drama. But she's still got that tinge of insecurity that makes her lower her standards in how she should be loved. That's a huge thing with me. I do it, and I watch everyone else do it - we become so dedicated to and tolerant of those we love. Letting what is really their "issues" manifest themselves in a way that hurts us. Then you get so deep that you don't even realize someone is walking all over you. Other people can see it and you just sit their and defend your loved one's actions although you would also be shaking your head if you were the one on the outside looking in. I believe in unconditional love - where I love someone just for who they are, not for how much they love me, or what they can give me, but if that person continues to go too far, you have to protect yourself by cutting them loose. If only we would all just be very straightforward from the start with people when it feels like they are screwing with our heads! Everyone should trust their instincts.
Then there's the times when I am the one dishing out insensitivity. If I am honest (not cruel) from the start with someone about my feelings towards them, or lack of them, how responsible am I for their choosing to stick around and torture themselves? Years ago, my friend and lover ChrisP said to "always take people at their word" and be honest and to "never settle for anything less than what you truly want". A big part of taking people at their word is not looking for hidden meanings between the lines and all that crap. Two fine examples: I married a guy who was quiet and cool and that translated into "intriguing" for me. Turned out he really had nothing to say. Later I dated someone who said he wasn't looking for a relationship. Turns out he really wasn't.
That latter scenario is what I've been experiencing lately, except I'm the one who doesn't want the relationship. A lot of guys seem to think that's a sexy challenge. The attention is great, but why do I still feel guilty after being very honest and consistent with my proclamation of No Relationships?
Blah blah blah! Glad to have gotten this rambling out of my system.
Oh! Another thing - I'm retracting my undying support of Chacos and now FILSONS. Sparkle took his Filsons in for repairs, and they said they will no longer be honoring their LIFETIME WARRANTIES! Yet another restructuring of what was a good company! Chacos are decent, but not far and above Tevas, like I stated previously. Just had to get that out there.
Fair winds!
Last Thursday brought the opportunity to motor and sail north to the festival aboard a classic wooden boat from Seattle. My old shipmate Swilley invited me aboard with two other crew. His captain finally taught me how to eyesplice in a way that won't slip my brain. We set the sails upon arrival, had a few beers while sailing around, almost running over Isaiah and Utilikilt-Boy floating in the bay aboard the brig's very tiny dory, with a makeshift squar's'l set. Isaiah and UB probably weigh over 250lbs each. A half mile offshore, they start standing up and moving around in the World's Smallest Dory. Swilley and I were anticipating a rescue mission, but all was well.
Friday was far more exciting. A 3 foot chop at the dock with gusts up to 35 knots kept the brig from even leaving on her night sail. We were docked somewhat close to the beach (found ourselves grounded every morning) with wind and water pushing towards shore. Captain Evil put the boat in full reverse, which still offered no slack in the after-leading and stern lines! We set to rigging more docklines - several of us up to our knees in the swells sweeping over the floating dock, the rest on board rigging chafe gear and hauling the thick lines taut. During all this we watched as a sailboat parted from its anchor and bobbed towards shore, fortunately beaching itself on the only small stretch of sand for miles around. Another boat was not so lucky - we found it the next morning up on the rocks.
The festival was uneventful. Not as many big boats, not as many old friends wandering the grounds. On Monday the crew went to see the movie Hero, which I enjoyed, and on Tuesday the boat hauled out. Several captains came to see the bit of keel damage done on an uncharted rock this summer. Later that day I helped remove the long piece of iron off the foot and stem.
That's pretty much it for the boat stuff this last week.
As far as the drama, could someone please beam me up to a world where everyone isn't in constant turmoil? Cuz that's my fantasy right now. Doesn't sound like an exciting fantasy, but oh what a relief it'd be. I truly love all these people who are going through their different dilemmas. I want to know how they are doing, listen to them when they need me, and help them without getting "involved". But I cannot help but worry about them and this gives me anxiety.
Two of my friends are in a relationship, but one of them is confused, and leading the girl on. The friend who is confused shares feelings of confusion and disillusionment, a clouded sense of direction in life, plus the inability to truly believe in himself. This person is so incredible, so dedicated and thoroughly self-trained in his field, a motivating leader - people look up to him and often think to themselves "I could never be that good". Sitting back and watching him work on his relationships, which rarely end well, over the last year has been heartbreaking. He does so many things right, but he doesn't know how to break up with someone. I worry that he's afraid to be alone.
Then there's the girl. She's young but really fucking cool. She's all about avoiding drama. But she's still got that tinge of insecurity that makes her lower her standards in how she should be loved. That's a huge thing with me. I do it, and I watch everyone else do it - we become so dedicated to and tolerant of those we love. Letting what is really their "issues" manifest themselves in a way that hurts us. Then you get so deep that you don't even realize someone is walking all over you. Other people can see it and you just sit their and defend your loved one's actions although you would also be shaking your head if you were the one on the outside looking in. I believe in unconditional love - where I love someone just for who they are, not for how much they love me, or what they can give me, but if that person continues to go too far, you have to protect yourself by cutting them loose. If only we would all just be very straightforward from the start with people when it feels like they are screwing with our heads! Everyone should trust their instincts.
Then there's the times when I am the one dishing out insensitivity. If I am honest (not cruel) from the start with someone about my feelings towards them, or lack of them, how responsible am I for their choosing to stick around and torture themselves? Years ago, my friend and lover ChrisP said to "always take people at their word" and be honest and to "never settle for anything less than what you truly want". A big part of taking people at their word is not looking for hidden meanings between the lines and all that crap. Two fine examples: I married a guy who was quiet and cool and that translated into "intriguing" for me. Turned out he really had nothing to say. Later I dated someone who said he wasn't looking for a relationship. Turns out he really wasn't.
That latter scenario is what I've been experiencing lately, except I'm the one who doesn't want the relationship. A lot of guys seem to think that's a sexy challenge. The attention is great, but why do I still feel guilty after being very honest and consistent with my proclamation of No Relationships?
Blah blah blah! Glad to have gotten this rambling out of my system.
Oh! Another thing - I'm retracting my undying support of Chacos and now FILSONS. Sparkle took his Filsons in for repairs, and they said they will no longer be honoring their LIFETIME WARRANTIES! Yet another restructuring of what was a good company! Chacos are decent, but not far and above Tevas, like I stated previously. Just had to get that out there.
Fair winds!
Ridiculously Awesome
Yesterday the brig made her way up to the big festival. Kanaka picked me up on her way north and we talked about boat stuff throughout the drive. Kanaka's ex boyfriend and my old shipmate, L.J., has an apartment near the festival grounds. He's at sea in the South Pacific and is gracious enough to let crew use his place while he's gone. It's a wonder that he even keeps an apartment - he's only home a few months out of the year. There's a stack of thank-you letters and an expensive bottle of rum from all the people who have been using his place since he left in March. L.J. is a very capable, nice, and hard-drinking shipmate. Everyone appreciates him.
My friend Sparkle, whom I crewed with last year and became close with, loves L.J. and frequently stops by his apartment to see if he's home yet. Sparkle is a 22 year old fun-loving, train-hopping, Ridiculously Awesome kid from Massachussetts. He's 6'6" and looks like a scruffed out male model, but with no pretentiousness or cockiness. He's one of my most favorite people in the world. Sparkle and his closest friends have been into the east coast punk scene since the seventies and eighties. One of their crowd graduated from Harvard and started a cooperative where several people with similar interests buy into a large piece of land, then build living spaces on it. He set up his first one out East, then several of them moved out here and bought another 10 acres. Sparkle is part of this group, and built a fine one room treehouse on his chunk of the land. Like many of the "residents", Sparkle is rarely there, but he always has a place to go to, and to store his stuff. It's beautiful property. You drive into the hills, then up a windy dirt road - though I believe most of them hitchhike and do not have vehicles. There's trails between the living spaces; some have built sod houses or solar powered shacks; and there's a main building with a kitchen, a library, and a drum set and practice space. This is surrounded by a huge terraced garden. The garden itself is almost an acre. The people up there go to a lot of shows in Seattle, and travel around the country, and they meet other musicians, boat people and interesting characters everywhere. They invite some of these other people to stop by if they are passing through. The first time I went to Sparkle's "land" I walked up the trail and heard some funky gypsy music among the tall trees. We came upon three people in the path; one played accordion and I forget what instruments the others played. They smiled at us and we walked around the garden; I met some other people who lived there. We had tea in the shared building, where there was no electricity. We sat around the big table, with the traveling musicians and some of the residents, in the dark and drinking tea. They have a very good quality of living up there.
Anyway, like I said, Sparkle often hitchhikes into town and stops by L.J.'s place. Kanaka and I were sitting in the living room, when Sparkle just shows up with a friend, looking for L.J., but happy to find me there, as we hadn't seen each other in months. Kanaka let him and his friend take showers, then we headed into town, met the brig, then went and bought 22oz beers complete with sleazebags and walked to the marina to check out boats and drink on the back of Sparkle's uncle's boat moored there. The brig cook Starr and another of Sparkle's friends from Massachussetts joined us, and we drank and talked about boats and Boston. Starr found out that she had worked with one these guys back in a record store in Boston a few years back. At 3am Starr and I returned to the brig to crash. I slept in the bunk belonging to a crew who was off with her dad hiking the Grand Canyon. She's a junk food junkie and I swear I was rolling around on bags of potato chips all night.
I dropped off my bags at the brig, and Kanaka drove me back south this morning so I could chop up firewood for my dad. Then I'm heading to meet an old shipmate whom I'm going to sail to the festival with tomorrow. I volunteer at the festival all weekend, then do a little work on the brig, so I won't be able to post again until the 15th. I think I may write in a journal, then copy it onto here later. Fair winds!
My friend Sparkle, whom I crewed with last year and became close with, loves L.J. and frequently stops by his apartment to see if he's home yet. Sparkle is a 22 year old fun-loving, train-hopping, Ridiculously Awesome kid from Massachussetts. He's 6'6" and looks like a scruffed out male model, but with no pretentiousness or cockiness. He's one of my most favorite people in the world. Sparkle and his closest friends have been into the east coast punk scene since the seventies and eighties. One of their crowd graduated from Harvard and started a cooperative where several people with similar interests buy into a large piece of land, then build living spaces on it. He set up his first one out East, then several of them moved out here and bought another 10 acres. Sparkle is part of this group, and built a fine one room treehouse on his chunk of the land. Like many of the "residents", Sparkle is rarely there, but he always has a place to go to, and to store his stuff. It's beautiful property. You drive into the hills, then up a windy dirt road - though I believe most of them hitchhike and do not have vehicles. There's trails between the living spaces; some have built sod houses or solar powered shacks; and there's a main building with a kitchen, a library, and a drum set and practice space. This is surrounded by a huge terraced garden. The garden itself is almost an acre. The people up there go to a lot of shows in Seattle, and travel around the country, and they meet other musicians, boat people and interesting characters everywhere. They invite some of these other people to stop by if they are passing through. The first time I went to Sparkle's "land" I walked up the trail and heard some funky gypsy music among the tall trees. We came upon three people in the path; one played accordion and I forget what instruments the others played. They smiled at us and we walked around the garden; I met some other people who lived there. We had tea in the shared building, where there was no electricity. We sat around the big table, with the traveling musicians and some of the residents, in the dark and drinking tea. They have a very good quality of living up there.
Anyway, like I said, Sparkle often hitchhikes into town and stops by L.J.'s place. Kanaka and I were sitting in the living room, when Sparkle just shows up with a friend, looking for L.J., but happy to find me there, as we hadn't seen each other in months. Kanaka let him and his friend take showers, then we headed into town, met the brig, then went and bought 22oz beers complete with sleazebags and walked to the marina to check out boats and drink on the back of Sparkle's uncle's boat moored there. The brig cook Starr and another of Sparkle's friends from Massachussetts joined us, and we drank and talked about boats and Boston. Starr found out that she had worked with one these guys back in a record store in Boston a few years back. At 3am Starr and I returned to the brig to crash. I slept in the bunk belonging to a crew who was off with her dad hiking the Grand Canyon. She's a junk food junkie and I swear I was rolling around on bags of potato chips all night.
I dropped off my bags at the brig, and Kanaka drove me back south this morning so I could chop up firewood for my dad. Then I'm heading to meet an old shipmate whom I'm going to sail to the festival with tomorrow. I volunteer at the festival all weekend, then do a little work on the brig, so I won't be able to post again until the 15th. I think I may write in a journal, then copy it onto here later. Fair winds!
Switched On
Around 2am this morning, hanging out with Fluffz, I was living totally in the present and completely happy. This led to an (at least) temporarily life-changing epiphany. I've become too self-absorbed again. This time it's been going on since... oh... since I started dating my last boyfriend in December of '03. The only break being the 2 weeks this year that had me working as cook for a large crew on a science program at sea. Unfulfilling work and idleness breed over-analyzation, self-centeredness and depression in me. Finally, for just a short while, there existed no worry for anything or anyone nor feelings of guilty or anxiety. A lightbulb turned on in my head. One of a series of lightbulbs, actually. I've been discussing my "issues" with everyone who will listen for months now. Disgusting! Good can be had from listening to other perspectives, but there's also been excessive whining to people who are either too smart to try and give advice, or too far removed to even care. Rehashing my problems for validation and attention is ultimately negative. It makes me dwell on the problem unnecessarily, it allows precious energy to be devoted to a negative focus, and it makes me look and ultimately feel like a silly waste of skin.
Fluffz is not a silly waste of skin; he is a talented musician. I have a theory that music, and I don't mean lyrics, is the ultimate way to communicate... but that sounds strange and I don't know how to articulate this theory. I don't agree with all of Fluffz's opinions and philosophies, but I respect him for living in the "now", and his vision of the world around him. He abhors materialism, mainstream media, selfish love and hypocrisy. In those ideas I can connect with him. That, and I'm glad he doesn't get all introspective all the time. Here's to Not Feeling Sorry For Ourselves!
Fluffz is not a silly waste of skin; he is a talented musician. I have a theory that music, and I don't mean lyrics, is the ultimate way to communicate... but that sounds strange and I don't know how to articulate this theory. I don't agree with all of Fluffz's opinions and philosophies, but I respect him for living in the "now", and his vision of the world around him. He abhors materialism, mainstream media, selfish love and hypocrisy. In those ideas I can connect with him. That, and I'm glad he doesn't get all introspective all the time. Here's to Not Feeling Sorry For Ourselves!
Ramblin' Rover
Captain A. called yesterday. He's out off Gloucester and very ready to return to the Northwest. He bought his own boat, but he's a workaholic so he hasn't taken the time to enjoy it. We talked about schooling, licensing and commercial shipping.
Two months ago I made firm decisions regarding my priorities for the next year. Make money, learn more navigation and boat handling, get licensed. Making money is hard to do when you are unlicensed, but A. just said that the seafarers union here is hurting for people, and that an O.S. on a commercial vessel makes around $4K per month. 100T licenses make $8K. If I had known this, I'd be there now. The brig is my home but if I want to spend more time on her I NEED more money and a license. This fall will be fun - I'll be on September through January and now that I know how to manage my time I'm really looking forward to it. I'M COMMITTED! If the mate that I want isn't sticking around, I might flip out and kill people like a ninja, but besides that scary thought, it'll be a good 4 months. Cooking is my first position, which isn't so wonderful, but Captain B., who happens to be A.'s brother, will be driving the boat, and he treats his cooks like pure gold.
My favorite photographer has been sending me pictures via email again! With his permission I created a separate site just for his pics. It's Fluffz Photos. It's my aspiration to write like he photographs; take delight in the everyday oddball things around us rather than bother with anything supposedly perfect or awe-inspiring.
Most things that people stress about matter very little in the grand scheme of things. Unless one of us is the next Jesus, Gandhi or Mother Teresa, our lives are really pretty pointless, so we might as well take our time and do things that make living enjoyable. I find volunteering for the sake of community enjoyable. I also enjoy those people with risk-free, comfortable (boring) lives who talk with me and become inspired to give up materialism and security. What gave me such satisfaction before volunteering? Travel and working in tourism?
Years ago while giving orca whale watching tours on a boat in the Puget Sound, a tourist from Iowa wrote on my comment card "she could have been funnier". I had thought I was pretty humorous, but maybe not in the style she liked. There were these beautiful, intelligent, inquisitive and kind orca whales, with their matriarchal families, trying to survive. We surround them with boats and layer a thick fog of exhaust that they breathe in upon surfacing. Our boats drive away salmon (their food), confuse their echolocation, cut them off and won't let them rest, and they are also dying from toxins dumped in the Sound 30 years ago. On top of that, in the seventies we corralled the entire orca population into one small bay and ripped their families apart, killing some, in the big rush to supply aquariums around the world. Not much funny there. Staying positive as a tour guide up there is important, though. Public interest leads to environmental protection. Plus the orcas, and the land and water are all still very beautiful.
I titled this "ramblin'" because that's all I've done here. Now I'm inspired to write the lyrics to "Ramblin Rover", my favorite song that we sing aboard the boat:
There are those who feign enjoyment
From merciless employment
There ambition was this deployment from the minute they left the school
While they save and scrape and ponder
The rest go out and squander
See the world and rove and wander and they're happier as a rule.
Chorus:
Oh there's sober men aplenty
And drunkards barely twenty
There are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl
But give me a ramblin' rover
Fae orkney down to Dover
We will roam the country over and together we'll face the world.
I've roamed o'er all the nation
Taken delight in all creation
And I've tried a wee sensation when the company did prove kind
But when partin' was no pleasure
We drank another measure
To the good friends that we treasure for they always are on our minds
chorus
When you're bent with arthritis
Your bowels have got colitis
You've got gallopin ball o 'titis and you're thinking it's time you died
While you're lying their in traction
If you've been a man of action
You may gain some satisfaction thinking Jesus at least I tried!
chorus
I have no clue what galloping ball o' titis is.
Two months ago I made firm decisions regarding my priorities for the next year. Make money, learn more navigation and boat handling, get licensed. Making money is hard to do when you are unlicensed, but A. just said that the seafarers union here is hurting for people, and that an O.S. on a commercial vessel makes around $4K per month. 100T licenses make $8K. If I had known this, I'd be there now. The brig is my home but if I want to spend more time on her I NEED more money and a license. This fall will be fun - I'll be on September through January and now that I know how to manage my time I'm really looking forward to it. I'M COMMITTED! If the mate that I want isn't sticking around, I might flip out and kill people like a ninja, but besides that scary thought, it'll be a good 4 months. Cooking is my first position, which isn't so wonderful, but Captain B., who happens to be A.'s brother, will be driving the boat, and he treats his cooks like pure gold.
My favorite photographer has been sending me pictures via email again! With his permission I created a separate site just for his pics. It's Fluffz Photos. It's my aspiration to write like he photographs; take delight in the everyday oddball things around us rather than bother with anything supposedly perfect or awe-inspiring.
Most things that people stress about matter very little in the grand scheme of things. Unless one of us is the next Jesus, Gandhi or Mother Teresa, our lives are really pretty pointless, so we might as well take our time and do things that make living enjoyable. I find volunteering for the sake of community enjoyable. I also enjoy those people with risk-free, comfortable (boring) lives who talk with me and become inspired to give up materialism and security. What gave me such satisfaction before volunteering? Travel and working in tourism?
Years ago while giving orca whale watching tours on a boat in the Puget Sound, a tourist from Iowa wrote on my comment card "she could have been funnier". I had thought I was pretty humorous, but maybe not in the style she liked. There were these beautiful, intelligent, inquisitive and kind orca whales, with their matriarchal families, trying to survive. We surround them with boats and layer a thick fog of exhaust that they breathe in upon surfacing. Our boats drive away salmon (their food), confuse their echolocation, cut them off and won't let them rest, and they are also dying from toxins dumped in the Sound 30 years ago. On top of that, in the seventies we corralled the entire orca population into one small bay and ripped their families apart, killing some, in the big rush to supply aquariums around the world. Not much funny there. Staying positive as a tour guide up there is important, though. Public interest leads to environmental protection. Plus the orcas, and the land and water are all still very beautiful.
I titled this "ramblin'" because that's all I've done here. Now I'm inspired to write the lyrics to "Ramblin Rover", my favorite song that we sing aboard the boat:
There are those who feign enjoyment
From merciless employment
There ambition was this deployment from the minute they left the school
While they save and scrape and ponder
The rest go out and squander
See the world and rove and wander and they're happier as a rule.
Chorus:
Oh there's sober men aplenty
And drunkards barely twenty
There are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl
But give me a ramblin' rover
Fae orkney down to Dover
We will roam the country over and together we'll face the world.
I've roamed o'er all the nation
Taken delight in all creation
And I've tried a wee sensation when the company did prove kind
But when partin' was no pleasure
We drank another measure
To the good friends that we treasure for they always are on our minds
chorus
When you're bent with arthritis
Your bowels have got colitis
You've got gallopin ball o 'titis and you're thinking it's time you died
While you're lying their in traction
If you've been a man of action
You may gain some satisfaction thinking Jesus at least I tried!
chorus
I have no clue what galloping ball o' titis is.
Favorite Blogs
Blogger recommends a few other blogs - one of them being the JibJab Times. JibJab has a cartoon on it called "This Land" that is absolutely hilarious.
The blog that I can't stop checking and laughing over is called "Peevishness & Botheration". Mostly it's by an LA writer named Michelle. After having worked in office environments before, I can relate to her daily postings. She's such a witty and talented writer that everyone would find her entertaining.
The blog that I can't stop checking and laughing over is called "Peevishness & Botheration". Mostly it's by an LA writer named Michelle. After having worked in office environments before, I can relate to her daily postings. She's such a witty and talented writer that everyone would find her entertaining.
