november 1 monday
hooboy there is never a dull minute living with big dummy. let me tell you about today. see we were quite enjoying being anchored at silver lake which is the town on ocracoke island especially after that fiasco getting into the harbor but this morning b.d. called a predawn crew meeting. never good news at one of those. like when he says not to worry lass everything is under control. that means time to worry. anywho at this meeting he announces that there is bad weather coming and we have a choice of either staying in this harbor all week or making a run for it. i don't like the sound of “make a run for it”. sounds kinda like “lets give it the old college try.” in other words odds are against us but lets be stupid and risk our lives anyway. damn the torpedoes full speed ahead and all that rot.
he asks my opinion as first mate of course and i say heck no lets just stay right here all week and let that weather move on past. but what he heard was “meow” and he says “righeeoh then its unanimous. we'll have a light breakfast, secure all loose gear and weigh anchor at first light. don't worry it won't be all that rough” but i knew he was lying because he was sticking one of those round band-aids behind his ear and putting on his slicker jacket (but not his slicker pants for which mistake he paid dearly as you will read in a moment.)
to be fair he did warn me that the first couple of hours we'd be bashing to windward but then we'd make a turn downwind and have a sleigh ride across pamlico sound.
we bashed all right. all that gear we secured came unsecured when a couple of things broke that were holding them in place and bottles of water, the bicycle, the short-wave radio, books, tools, etc. etc. chased me around the cabin for the entire day! b.d. was busy hand steering so we wouldn't get sideways to one of those giant waves so he was too busy to come down and help me any. finally we made the turn downwind and b.d. decided to let the autohelm take over for a while. he hooked it up and turned with his back to the sea and bent over to make some adjustments. about that time a sarah palin wave came breaking over the stern right into the cockpit. sailors call this getting “pooped”. now remember b.d. didn't have on his rubber overalls so most of that wave ended up in his back pants pockets. i guess we can say he got pooped in his pants. ha! that was sooooo funny!
but the fun didn't end there. somewhere along the way the dinghy got flipped over again and it was fun watching him deal with that. if he did that every day he would have muscles like charles atlas.
but he saved the best for last. you can try this at home. before you go to bed at night check the oil in your car. then instead of putting the dipstick back into the dipstick hole just jam it in between a couple of linkages so it feels like it is in the right place. then in the morning start the engine and run it hard all day or until the low oil pressure idiot light comes on and the warning alarm says BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!
then open the hood and see what a pretty mess you've made. again to be fair i have to admit the dipstick hole on the JoHee's engine is nearly impossible to see no matter where you stick your head. it has to be handled by feel. still i gotta tell you that little hole can spray out a lot of oil in eight or nine hours of motoring. and it covers every single inch of every single item in that engine compartment – engine, walls, storage bins, hoses, pumps, filters, switches, wires, spare parts.......everything. well at least the oil helps prevent rust. b.d. says he's just gonna let it stay there but don't tell uncle pierre. he always kept the engine so clean and shiny he would be sick if he could see this mess.
anyway we did have a very fast crossing of pamlico sound arriving at oriental north carolina (i wonder if there is an occidental south carolina) by lunch time so we kept moving and now we're anchored alongside the icw somewhere north of morehead city. i'm just going to sit on the cabin top and smell the birds while b.d. makes an attempt to clean up the messes......
toodles
kitty
first mate
s/v JoHee
The only thing worse than screwing up the dip stick thing (Boy, that was a bad screw-up) is having a critical cat around to rub it in. Whew! It's a good thing Kitty can only type, but can't TALK. If Kitty gets too critical you can alway read her that part of "My Old Man and the Sea" when.........you know what happens.
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