The Sting of Censorship!!

I'm on Haight Street tonight, with Starr and Jesse. We're checking our email at an internet cafe. L. Bolton has emailed me and has admonished me for using words like "Sexy" and sarcastic comments, or noting the crew's outings to bars on my Bill of Rights website. I'm officially censored. I now know how Mark Olson and Haida Bob feel. I will keep my drinking stories here, not linked to the Bill website, which seems to have gotten to the SEAPORT with haste!

I was sick the whole transit. We ripped a crazy hole in the main, and broke the fore halyard. So, not much sailing. Today was nice, though. We deep reefed the main for our grand arrival.

IAN SPAIN got fired from Sloop Providence. I'm so glad I got off that fucking boat. I SO KNEW not only that crap was going to break from lack of care - but that they were going to dump anyone that stood up for themselves. Ian is a great sailor - a great guy all around, and practically EMT certified. And he set up their entire stupid sat phone system for them. And they fired him. Very stupid. I knew they wouldn't have taken us all to the Caribbean. I told Ian he should come join us asap!

another blog? Sheesh!

I have just created an unofficial webpage for our schooner, Bill of Rights. Click here.

Please feel free to comment and ask questions of the crew. Every crewmember will have write access to that blog.

I will probably post equally to both this site and that one, since right now most of my life has to do with living aboard Bill of Rights!

Ventura to Morro Bay

I have completed my first transit on schooner Bill of Rights, and it went well! And quickly, I might add. This boat is luxurious compared to other boats I've worked on. Tons of room, dozens of berths and some private cabins, and a beautiful salon full of brightwork and windows. She's been sitting at a dock in LA for 3 years, so she's a bit leaky, but there's enough dry berths for the minimal crew on board. My schooner experience has increased tenfold just over the last few days, along with my forearm muscles! Well not quite, but it feels like it. I have never, EVER hauled such heavy sails (gaff rig, no less) but within a week or two I think it'll be a piece of cake. Bill of RIghts is modeled after an early 19th century style of Gloucester fishing schooner, but she has a little inflatable avon on davits aft. She's known as "the amendment".

LA was fun. I had a wonderful time visiting PFunk, Maui and Hoku. Pfunk started her own blog, and I'm stoked about that. Now I can keep up with all that's going on her head! I don't read many other blogs, but I wish a few other friends would start blogs too.

Check out akimbophoto.blogspot.com soon, as I've taken several pictures and plan on posting them tonight or tomorrow. Looks like we'll be repairing some sail and making ready for our business here in Morro Bay, California. The Two Dogs cafe has a sweet internet hook up - real computers so's I don't have to have a laptop to communicate.

Hmm... what else? The transit... it was very wet. Very, very wet. And windy and cold. And our engine went out (our engineer didn't show up on his supposed arrival date, but those of you who know him -Krunch- well, it's probably no surprise, right?). So darn, we HAD to sail for a while. "A" watch saw whales and dolphins and lightning. My watch saw some phosphorescense and some decent speed (7.5 kts). Yes, I got seasick of course I did. But by midday today all was good. Coming into Morro Bay, all us girls in our foulies stood on the bow and cat-called the surfers. That was fun.

Anyway, I'm going to load those pics...

Blondes, boobs and sheepskin boots

Friday the 18th of 2005 has found me sitting in Emerson’s café on 9th and Los Angeles Street, in the heart of L.A.’s “fashion district”. Tenacious emailed me and said “I see an episode of Sex & the City unfolding…” which is exactly the scene I expected. Rather than Samantha and Carrie strutting down the wide sidewalks, I’d say with today’s rain (I’m like PigPen with a cloud following me wherever I go) and wind, and with the old warehouse-industrial feel of the place, it’s more like a variation on the Vancouver “scene”. In fact, I’d say there’s far more interesting and beautiful people in Vancouver compared to here. Fortunately true fashion does center on unique styles, so the cookie cutter blondes, boobs and sheepskin boots aren’t popping out of the Escalades and Hummers parked on the street.

There’s a store across the street that sells all the slightly off wholesale clothing that would otherwise be discarded. Everything in the entire store is $4.99. If I was a club kid, hitting a different trance or house music venue every night, this would be my official clothier. Skimpy tops and skirts with silly designs – just like the shops in Waikiki. I bought a skirt that I’m sure an older generation would call Plain Ugly. But hey, I’m from Seattle. Compared to every other metropolitan area, Seattle has cornered the market on retro, seemingly ugly fashion. So much so that it’s cool. It’s grown on me. Although up there it feels like you have to be heroine chic skinny to carry off the I-make-grandpa’s-clothes-look-good trick. Either that or have that rock star image that I’ve always wanted. Like a blend of Pink and Janeane Garafalo when she starred in Reality Bites. The thicker girl that accomplishes the hardened non-pastel wearing punk aura. My friend Starr does a pretty good job. With her bihawks, torn shirts, tattoos and smoking habit. Strangely my fashion idols are both her and Sabrina, who really does belong on Sex & the City.

P-Funk gets a lunch break from her bookkeeping work in half an hour. She has several clients here in downtown LA; all of them associated with fashion design and sales. Last night we did the Pasadena pub tour, starting with 35’ers, which attracted us with a sandwich board offering $6.50 pitchers of crappy beer. 35’ers is the ultimate sports bar. There must have been 20 big screen TV’s in that little place. Plus original jerseys from local sports stars. From there we made our way to Lucky Baldwin’s, where our waiter actually did look like Stephen Baldwin. Not on purpose, I’m guessing. That place was great. Stephen pushed some new Belgian beers on us, and I’ve really not been in the mood for making small decisions lately, so we let him pick some for us. He gave me a 12% alcohol beer called Spalik or Scalzik or something like that. It tasted like beer flavored alcohol. We ordered Guinness after that. They had Ben Folds and St. Germain and “all for me grog” on the jukebox, which made me happy. Strangely some kids sat next to us with binders and a can of Nevr-Dull, so I of course had to ask what the heck they were doing with it. Working on an advertising project for a college assignment. They didn’t even know what Nevr-Dull was for or how to use it. Good luck! Oh yeah – they’re probably learning how to market stuff that nobody knows anything about but will go out and buy because the jingle is so cool and the sparkly lights surrounding it are so entrancing. After that bar we made for Moose McGillicuddy’s, to see if it was anything like the one on Lewer’s in Waikiki. It wasn’t. The waiter was very friendly, giving us plenty of free shots and beers. We let him choose for us too. Then we started Drunk Dialing.

Yeah. So we called Tenacious, who was nice enough to not get annoyed with our blabbering on and on. P-Funk had never met him, but she and he have 3 mutual acquaintances so they still have things to chat about. We then dialed another old friend that we both hung out with a lot in Hawaii, and probably came very close to getting our asses and karma kicked by more than one entity. By 10pm we were well sauced and sporting “flash” that the cutesy MGD bimbos were peddling around the bar. P-Funk called DAD to pick us up and cart our drunken asses home.

P-Funk’s man, Maui, has around half a million dollars worth of computer hardware in his home office. It’s in the garage, of all places! They have alarms set up though. He edits trailers and commercials. When P-Funk and Maui aren’t working on their documentary, this is how he brings in the cash. He showed me several of the commercials he’s working on right now. You know how when you go to the TV Guide channel, and there’s previews of shows that they are trying to get you to watch? Maui edits these previews, adds music and voice-overs. First he has to watch the episode (for example- he did one for “Rescue Me” – that firefighting show with Denis Leary). So he gets a feel for the show’s plot and ties in all the sound bytes with the voice-over script. He edits it down, adds music and graphics, and voila! $1-3k is paid for a spot that lasts just a few minutes. It sounds like the pay for different camera work and editing jobs varies greatly. Maui said a 26 hour job working on Nelly’s “Pimp Juice” video only earned him a little over $100. Good work experience, though. Apparently a regular joe can go to voice-over school and start earning $4k for commercials with little effort at all put in.

One of P-Funk’s clients is a leather accessory designer called “Billykirk”. She gave me a bracelet that they make; it has a little shamrock on it. Now I have 2 leather bracelets – the one I made, and this new buckled one. Like a Tall Ship Wonder Woman.

ACK it’s a good thing I DON’T have my own laptop – I’ve been sitting at this café for hours, writing this and surfing the net. Today is my first personal experience with the wonder of free wireless internet. Pretty damn cool! I didn’t have to do anything – the computer found a network to hook up to and did it automatically. I’ll post this morning’s pictures of LA before I finish my chai and head out to explore the neighborhood…

Out with PFunk at Lucky Baldwins in Pasadena


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Lubberly in Texas

I had a sweet Valentine's Day out in the ranchlands of Texas. The object of my affections and fantasies of warmth while I'd been battling the icy winds south of Cape Cod last month treated me to love and attention and lots of great stuff that he burnt on to DVD's to take with me, plus he sharpened my knives, fed me mangoes, took me out for scampi, cheesecake, and a movie, and accompanied me on a tour of a local winery. We visited thrift stores for a day, and I managed to land myself a sexy Dickies jumpsuit. We talked about movies, books, philosophy, survivalist stuff, tall ships and...(sigh)... the French Revolution. I stocked him up on banana-chocolate chip pancakes and took some sexy pictures of myself to leave on his computer. It was pretty great. Pics later...

Kellick

Got this in an email from Michael Kellick today.... SCaRee!!

"I just got back from the Bering Sea last night. We had a little trouble up there. On a moonless night in 18' seas a rogue wave smashed into our wheelhouse like a forty foot fist, dumping eight thousand pounds of water on our first mate, who happened to have the watch. The window in front of him busted inward and sent him over the back of the captain's chair. We lost all electronics and steering for several moments. It was tense, but we're all okay."

I Saw This Coming

Got an email from a crew still on sloop Providence. That boom finally gave out. The preventer wore through, the boom swung free and shattered against a backstay. The crew was OK though. The boom is as big as the Lady Washington's.

The Whole Story

Believe it or not, I was not drunk in the picture below. However I was taking pictures of myself in a bathroom stall in New Orleans. That would have made more sense were I drunk. Several of the pictures below came out too small after editing them at photobucket.com, but the energy to redo it all was seriously lacking.

I went to the chiropractor today, got xrays and an adjustment, plus a treatment from a funky electode machine that makes you feel like there's one of those Star Trek ear bugs crawling around in your back. I am wearing a neck brace. My uncle says to me on the phone: "My neck stiffens up all the time. You know what helps me? More work!" Me telling him I might not be able to help him pack a shipment this week was pretty much ignored, I think.

My story of Mardi Gras goes like this...
My old friends from my life in Hawaii, Mikey Pru and Scuba Steve, along with two friends of Scuba's - Shamus and Jack, invited me to go with all of them to Mardi Gras in New Orleans this past weekend. There are two weeks of festivities prior to Fat Tuesday, and the last weekend is the best time to go. We squished into the rental car and set out from Austin for the 10 hour drive. 10 hours is not such a big deal around here. It's Texas after all. It's all relative.

In the car, Scuba and I discussed his 3 week trip last month where he volunteered aboard my favorite tall ship, brig Lady Washington. He met my favorite bosun Dreadlocks, and said that although they argued, they respected each other's work ethic. John Boy crewed with him for only 2 days and taught him the most. He, like everyone else, enjoyed living with blacksmith and classical music expert Jim Rich. Sounds like the long "lets hash this all out meetings" at every meal were a bit exasperating to my straightforward ex-navy diver friend, but his most loved new friend was definitely Myuh. I think he wanted to take Myuh home with him.

So we're on our way to Louisiana, with these two Navy pilots in the front of the car. Jack drove 100 mph most of the way, but I'd never felt safer. Although did you know that you can graduate college, join the military, and almost immediately start flying planes? With no prior experience. Huh. Pru, Scuba, Jack & Shamus are all true Navy boys. Even though Pru and Scuba are out of the military now. Their main goal at Mardi Gras was to get laid. It's all they talked about. They spent the ENTIRE weekend trying to get laid. It was like watching the Discovery Channel. Jack wore a predatory stare and placed himself in a central location on Bourbon Street, trying various manuvers to get the attention of the finest females. Thankfully, Shamus and Scuba relied on their sense of humor rather than their scoping and hunting skills to land females. They were slightly more successful than Jack and Pru, but NONE of them got any action. While it's comfortable being the girl that they "don't have to treat like a girl" by putting on false airs of gentlemanliness, I can't help but sincerely wish I was a lesbian after a weekend with these boys.

On Friday night we arrived late and walked to Bourbon Street, where thousands upon thousands of partiers yelled at the people on balconies above. The balcony people swung beads around and pointed to anyone on the street that seemed appealing - trying to get the women to flash, and the women on the balconies trying to get the men to pull down their pants! Scuba, who is one half French, admonishes all flashing, but we were still all there to check out the party. Did I mention that it's legal to carry alcohol outside in New Orleans? We carried 2 bags of beer and pulled from it throughout the night. I hear they only recently outlawed drinking and driving. There were still plenty of people on the road with 40's, driving along. Strangely though, airplane bottles of liquor are illegal in Louisiana. They must not believe in going small when it comes to partaking.

At 2am the guys all went into a packed club called Razzoos, and I walked the 2 miles through downtown New Orleans back to the hostel. I got lost, and almost hit by a trolley. In the morning we headed straight to the parades. The parades here happen every day in the two weeks prior to Fat Tuesday. Up to 4 parades per day through downtown and along St. Charles. They all have different names, like "Iris" "Isis" "Tuck's" "Proteus" "Orpheus" and my favorite, "Endymion". The parades consist almost completely of highschool bands and tractors pulling floats that look like they were built around double decker buses. The front of the float will have giant whales or 3 headed dogs, or some goddess or god, and that theme will cover the float. On each level, on both sides of the float there stands several costumed people - white masks with eye and mouth holes, wierd hoods and gowns (like a cross between the Flying Nun and the KKK). They throw out beads at the screaming and hopping crowd. Scuba blew a kiss to an old lady on a float and landed the biggest beads I'd ever seen. Each float plays music, too. The college and high school bands were great. Those girls dance like the creole or voodoo spirit is coursing through their veins. There's beads hanging from all of the bandmembers, and their instruments.

I hadn't seen a city party like this since WTO. Because much of WTO was actually high spirited and not riotous or angry. It's fascinating to see people take over a city - no cars, businesses mostly closed, cops just standing by. After all the parades end, the streets are covered daily with more litter than WTO ever produced - maybe more than Seattle itself could produce in weeks. You absolutely can not walk without crunching broken and full strands of beads, the bags they came in, beer cans, paper cups, hot dog wrappers. It's 2 miles of this. Then hundreds of uniformed locals come out with street sweepers and have the whole place looking great within hours.

My hurt neck kept me in bed for several hours on saturday, but since this was my first time to see Mardi Gras, I decided that I was going to endure the pain and just go out and see more. I caught the last half of Endymion, collecting beads, but not too aggressively due to my neck. I then met the boys who were BEYOND wasted from drinking all day, yet still truely dedicated to getting some "action". We walked Bourbon Street again, then went to a little bar by the hostel called Igor's, then went to the hostel and barbecued steak at 4am. This is what the boys had bought to eat: Scuba was wise in bringing his barbecue, and on that they cooked 2 cans of baked beans, 2 cans of corn, one package of rib steak and one package of chicken legs. We didn't have any salt and pepper for the meat, but Shamus is fluent in Japanese and found two Japanese hostellers with spices to join us for steak. After that I took another long hot shower and hit my rack.

Our final morning found us at the Trolley Stop Cafe on St. Charles. Our waiter was a rockabilly local and reminded me of Nick from Magoo's, in Hawaii. He decided he was going to order for the hungover and sick Pru, along with giving him lots of advice for dealing with his sickness. This waiter was awesome - Pru was all sick and refusing to eat the patty melt that the waiter ordered for him, seriously advising us to actually hold him down and force the food down his throat in order to make him feel better. We left a good tip.

The guys let me ride shotgun the entire way home, due to my obvious immobility. Scuba and I talked more about boats, we looked at swampland, and Pru took over the stereo with his ITrip in the backseat.

I want to go back to New Orleans on my own, and stay at a hostel. There's so much to see there and I didn't even get a taste of it. I'm glad I went though, because it opened my eyes to yet another place worth spending more time in.

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Mardi Gras Photos

I'm still working out the whole size conversion thing. Give me time. These are way out of order too...



Below are people on a balcony on Bourbon Street, throwing beads at the people below. The guys with the really big beads are hoping to entice some well endowed women to bare all in return for sweet beads.

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I didn't ask these guys what they had to do to get all these beads!
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From the "Iris" parade
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People here bring or rent ladders and end up catching more beads from the tall floats.
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Confetti over a parade on St. Charles street.
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The drill and cheer teams with the high school bands were awesome dancers.
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Check out the trash after the parade! The city has clean up down to a science. All this is gone within hours.
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Bleachers are built over the sidewalks and outside lanes of St. Charles. You have to walk under them to get around.
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Me with my beads! OK YES I did have to flash for those big silver disco ball beads.
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Scuba Steve and Shamus with their hair of the dog, sitting on the rental the morning we left.
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The Marquette Hostel where we stayed for 2 nights.
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Next door to the hostel.
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Beads on the trees.
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Best french toast I've ever had - Trolley Stop Cafe on St. Charles Street.
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Another house by the hostel
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Scuba Steve driving us back to Austin through the swamp. No gator sightings.
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Pru at the bar where he works.
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Me in the reflection - in my uncles semi truck cab.
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View from the truck cab
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N'awlins Mardi Gras

Here are several pictures from my time aboard sloop Providence last month, plus some that are out of order - taken before I left Seattle.

Mardi Gras was pretty amazing to see. Biggest party I've ever seen, for sure. We just got back - I'm going to figure out how to download the pics and post them up here tomorrow.

I got a TON of beads. All you have to do is reach your hands up and grab them because people in the parades on the floats and on the balconies on Bourbon St. are constantly throwing them at everyone. The streets are covered with beads after the parades. There were 3 parades each day this weekend.

I was jumping up to catch some beads... and I think I sprained my neck. I could barely move yesterday, even after washing down an Aleve with a beer. So it's to the hospital with me tomorrow. My neck was already pretty screwed up from the massive amounts of heavy lifting I'd done in January, but this did me in.


Green Sport Coat

This is my second night drunk in Austin. We are driving to New Orleans tomorrow for Mardi Gras. I've never been to Mardi Gras so I'm pretty stoked on the idea.

Scuba Steve and I went to "First Thursday" on South Congress. After some beers we met Pru and headed to Georgia's birthday party.

I've got a great feathery mask to wear this weekend. Steve's got a sweet green sport coat, and I don't know what Mike has to wear. These two guys from Corpus Cristi just drove up tonight. I guess they are pilots in the Navy and friends of Steve. It's time for bed so's we can function tomorrow.

Thoughts on Music and more

Thoughts on Music.
There are 4 people in my life with the best taste in music. EVER. They also have a degree of COOL that is incomparable.

Mike Wurn, Mike Prusaitis, Jesika Rowley & Ian Spain

Who I'm listening to lately: Lots of Postal Service and Merry Prankster and Heavenly. I'll be looking for some Adam Green cd's soon.

Yeah, I'm using real names now. So far I haven't pissed anyone off (that I didn't want to, anyway). Except NANETTE BROWN-CLAMPITT who is actually pissed that I'm not writing about her MORE.

I'll still use code names sometimes. In more delicate situations.

Oh! Nate wrote me. He and Sara are herding sheep or something in Spain. Moving around a bit. And I heard that a Semester at Sea boat was hit by a rogue wave off Hawaii. I think it was NOT a sailing vessel though.

I've been having really spectacular dreams lately. Happy, fun, and of True Love, even. I had a dream where my high school boyfriend Richard and I were married, and having trouble, and he was very calming and straightforward, saying not to worry so much and that I should focus more on friendship rather than romance. It was so vivid that I thought maybe he'd died in real life and come to give me some last words of guidance or something! I thought I should email him, but it would probably freak him out, so I didn't. Richard is a LOT different now than he was 13 years ago. I had fantasized about going out with him again a few years ago, but we are completely different people, and not compatible. But back then - well, breaking up with him is unfortunately a regret in my life. Anyway, in the dream I felt such complete love - not just for him, but, I don't know, just total, complete love and happiness and contentment. I thought even though it was a dream, I've now experienced that. It was nice.

Pinch its Cheeks

The Bristol to Stamford transit during the BLIZZARD OF '05!!! Woo hoo!

but first, a few good quotes from the crew...
Sam L. on Bristol, RI: "This town is so cute I could just pinch its cheeks!"
Canuck Sara the cook on Gumby Suits: "I love the smell of neoprene in the morning"
And the adorable Chris Mancini wrote a lovely song called "Penguins of the Providence", but it's too long to post here and I don't remember all of it anyway.

Back to the transit...

gumby suits, -20 farenheit, 2 on, 2 off. Need I say more?

Teletubbies at the Tiller

Hmmm, so is it going to be today, or WHAT? Captain says maybe.

We went out for italian last night. Had an awesome pizza with goat cheese, garlic and italian sausage. "Leos" in Bristol makes a fine red sauce.

Now the idea is to stand watch IN GUMBY SUITS.

This is NOT what I signed up for. Yesterday we got a full rundown on what happens if we end up in the freezing Atlantic. I know all this information is good to have. STILL....

So we all have brand spanking new survival suits. We loook like orange teletubbies. Sinky Winky. Cap is looking for ski goggles for us to wear. Have I mentioned that the quarterdeck has no bulwarks and rests about12 feet off the water's surface? No better place to soak up that wind chill.

Sam said "If I didn't die on Bounty, I'm not going to die on this boat!"

Rhett at the La France Cafe brought us some more dvds to watch. I walked all the way to Blockbuster yesterday (1.5 miles) and couldn't find a copy of Captain Ron for sale. Nobody on this boat has seen it!

Some old salts were brought aboard yesterday to speak with the captain about best course options... I hear there's an "inside passage" over here, too. Long Island Sound to Chesapeake Bay or something like that. We'll to that, OR we'll go way offshore. I hate to say it, but at this point I'm not totally comfortable being offshore. It'd be different if I was on the Lady. Everyone's like "we're not going to make Alabama on time, going six knots the whole way" but I said once we got some good wind and following seas we might double that. This IS the same hull as the Lady, is it not? They say Providence has never topped 11 knots, but she's never traveled much, either.

So... if you find yourself standing on a wharf in Long Island Sound or near Baltimore, look for an old fashioned sloop with a couple of 3 fingered orange aliens at the helm. We'll call her the S/V Hazmat.

Icy Cold

Notes for today:

it's still cold in Bristol, RI. 4 degrees, I think.

Met a great guy named Noah here at the La France cafe. Check out his adventures at wholeearthadventures.com

The Beard says he's going to buy a sailboat and moor in Seattle. Why don't we start a new ex-Lady community at Shilshole?

Michael Kellick is on a cargo ship in Alaska. He's going to try and get hired for these Disney flicks being made in the Caribbean (word from Mark Griffin).

We are still waiting for a few more degrees to come our way. Like 60 of them maybe. I had to furl the inner jib and could practically break my fingers off by the end of that. Ever tried to take a shower in a balaclava and wool sweater? Don't work to well.

Love yas

I'm down with L. Francis

I had first watch: midnight, 10 degrees farenheit. Icy deck. Freezing sleet and wind. Woohoo! Bring me that warmer horizon!

The alternator started smokin. Bristol, RI, here we come. Here we are. It's Herreshoff's hometown and he has museum here, but it's MLK day so I have to wait until tomorrow to check it out.

Chris is watching Kill Bill back at the boat. I found free internet! This is the first time that's happened since Peter Island in the BVI!!! I'm so freekin happy!

I'm going to go back to the sloop and find the leather punch and make myself a new sheath.

Pray for warmth!

Sailorspeak

The crew is good. The cook has provisioned. I'm stoked to go!

Releathering jaws for Dizney:

Do not remove boom. Remove old leather and the two rusty plates holding the port side of the jaws together (big crack). Cut new leather, seine twine it into place, let it rain, let it freeze. Leather is now (kind of) molded to jaws. Do not bed nails or bolts. Just get that shit on there. Scream bloody murder at copper nails for a whole day. Take a day off. Hmm- on the cracked side the nails go in better! A little TOO easy (cracked, sitting in the rain for a year on the hard......you know what I'm getting at). Bolt metal plates back on and cross fingers? Bend on sail and voila! Movie-perfect.

So tomorrow we leave. Dizney sent us 3 bottles of champagne after harrassing us all day about the satellite phone not being hooked up and ready to go.

We watched Master & Commander last night and ate ribs from a place called "Smokey Bones".
We told a lot of "Ant" jokes. You have to think of words that have the word "ant" in them. Like this: A drunk and disorderly ant? "BelligerANT". A non-profit ant? GrANT. You get the picture.

I really have NO time for emails. Providence, RI is not conducive to public email access.

Suppposedly we're going to Norfolk, VA for showers and fuel.