Don’t Do … That!
Title: Don’t Do … That!
December 11, 2018
Day 68
Noon Position: 45 36S 32 43W
Course(t)/Speed(kts): E 7
Wind(t/tws): NW 15
Sea(t/ft): NW 3
Sky: FOG. A solid 24 hours of fog!
10ths Cloud Cover: 10
Bar(mb): 1011, falling
Cabin Temp(f): 61
Water Temp(f): 51
Relative Humidity(%): 83
Sail: Working jib and main, broad reach
Noon-to-Noon Miles Made Good (nm): 130
Miles since departure: 9155
Avg. Miles/Day: 135
By way of explaining my tremendous gaffe, the below.*
Monte: (urgently) Senior, please, we must to have a discussion.
Randall: Certainly my faithful pilot. What’s concerning you?
Monte: I have just watched your nice picture of the beautiful waves and with Senior Handel and it is all very good except that in it you are … (Monte says very quietly) … whistling…
Randall: And…
Monte: (aghast) Senior, that is very bad luck! You must not whi … I cannot say the word, but you must not do it. It is like to throw hot milk on Neptune’s cat. When I was a boy on the Santa Maria, I would have been keel hauled for … for doing that.
Randall: (slaps head)
Monte: I cannot believe you do not know this. You have read all the books about the great Captain Aubrey. Your father he was a captain in the merchant Navy. He said you could whi … you know, that … ONLY when there was no wind in the sails and then you also prick a backstay with your finger. But may I to point out our current position is not one of being becalmed. This is not that kind of ocean. You NEVER, NEVER …. do that … HERE.
Randall: I know, I know … I can’t believe …
Monte: So, what is very important is that you stop. Now. Please you will notice I have put up a sign over the companionway ladder as a reminder. And when you prepare dinner tonight, you must “cook up a storm,” for as you may recall, the cook is the only person allowed to … to do that. May I recommend a pot roast of lamb, which is my favorite. And I’ll have some of your Madera by way of acknowledgement for bringing this important issue to your attention.
Randall: We don’t have any Madera aboard.
Monte: Oh, what do you call it then, that evening beverage you have?
Randall: Beer.
Monte: (grimaces) Oh, a shame. Well, if that is what you have…
Lacking anything resembling a roast, I have made a large pot of beef curry, which steamed up the windows something fierce. Monte seemed satisfied.
And I have stopped doing … you know … that.
*Thank you to my friend, Matt, for pointing out the offense.
—
In other news, I got the dodger door, the one that pulled apart when we were pooped, sewed back up today.
Looks like you’re under way again – what was THAT??! You are such good company for yourself! While many of us can’t imagine spending all that time isolated without anyone to share the experience with, you are full of humor and creativity! Love it!
Love it, LOVE IT!!!!! Dear ole MONTE! Such wisdom.
Ha! I wondered about that sound coming from your lips too! Glad Monte set you straight on that. I love making that sound but learned the hard way, in the Great Lakes, to do it only when wind is sorely needed. And then to HOLD ON!