Cara of the South - Day 8 (more)

Skippy didn't have a great day yesterday. Just at the moment he was begging
to hear one of my band's songs (did I mention our band won Battle of the
Bands, 1986)? As I reluctantly agreed (because I have always shunned the
fame and wealth that accompany rock star status), a massive wave hit Gary
squarely in the back, absolutely drenching him from head to toe. It did
occur to me that he had done this deliberately to avoid hearing the song,
but my earphones were safe and dry. Unlike the skipper.

As if this were not bad enough, much later yesterday, actually around 04.00
this morning whilst I was on my second night watch, a strange thing
happened.

I am not normally allowed in the Great Hall unless I am scurrying to the
Throne Room or the dungeon where I am permitted 3 hours sleep. I was idly
surveying the Throne room because on deck around this time of night, the
damp is all consuming. Seriously, it's like Glasgow up there. So Skippy
allowed me to sit in the corner of the Great Hall.

It's a wonderful place. It has the necessary areas such as galley and
navigation table, where the magic happens. But it also has brass clocks,
barometers, clinometers. Pictures hang from the bulkheads and a beautiful
dome-shaped paraffin lamp sits above Skippy's double bed. Here, he lay,
sleeping soundly and dreaming of sextants, sunsights and shackles. His
massive bed lies on top of three lockers, which I assume contain gold.

This boat also doubles up as a floating hospital and a floating workshop, so
the port side is medical and the starboard side, all the tools that he could
not fit into the dungeon. This is also where the carrots and fresh produce
were before they were unceremoniously tipped over the side for the stupid
dolphins. We had to discard also the pork, onions and garlic today. The
dolphins dined well again. Why Skippy had that much garlic, I have no idea.
It was enough to open a garlic retail outlet. Anyway, off it went to the
dolphins. But, back to Skippy's slumber.

A dim red glow illuminates the navigator's table, where I sit, avoiding the
Glasgow damp up above, and holding on, whilst Cara lurches, rocks, dives and
spins through the ocean.

When suddenly.....

I learnt some new words.

Sadly I can't repeat those words in the public domain. They must remain
between me, Cara, Skippy, Kylie, Danni, Samantha, Derek, Jim, Charlie and
Caroline. And these latter 7 are trustworthy because they are bags and
tools, not people.

What had happened was that the skipper in his zeal to go to bed on top of
his crates of gold, had forgotten to close the hatch, which is exactly above
his head.

The Atlantic landed on that wise head at 04.00, and the speed with which he
jumped up was positively Olympian! Accompanied of course by those words,
which I had never heard before and cannot repeat.

Not like him to make a rookie error like that. But I am pleased to say he is
back to his chirpy self after his ordeal. And of course I didn't laugh, not
in front of him anyway.

Sadly, we are going to have to take a break from these blogs now. We have
lost the ability to charge any electronics, including this laptop, since we
encountered a problem with the engine. This will not affect our ability to
sail the boat, so you will still see us. But it's now time to switch off
everything except safety and distress devices.

Thanks for reading, folks and we hope to see you soon!