Latitude 39-13 North Longitude 147-27 West
Days run 158 Miles
Speed 6.6 Knots
Total distance 1337
To go 1446
Day 8 of our "fantastic voyage" begins still deep in the Pacific High. Winds are Lt. and Var. which means we hear the constant drone of this infernal engine. Arr!, me sailor's blood longs for a following wind to fill our sails! The horizon remains empty, save for passing squalls and albatross. Water water everywhere and nay a drop to drink; Good thing we have plenty of grog.
Held Sunday sunrise services with all hands in attendance invoked the Almighty for wind and a pox on this blasted eddy!
In these becalmed conditions the Chief has become the star of the boat. We've given him special grog rations and plenty of sleep. Orders were given to treat him in a kindly manner. No gruff talk or unkindly words while we're under power. Not much use for the Sailing master, so I relegated him to be the Chief's assistant, fetch his coffee, etc. I've even given up me beer ration to the Snipes. Sometimes the Capt. must sacrifice for the good of the ship. The Chief can't believe the change but we'll abuse him later after the sails are full. Arr.
I remain Capt. Bligh
Footnote to the above (the real story): Two days ago, after beating to windward for a full week, I hauled myself aft to Captain Blight's office and told him exactly what I thought of him and where I thought he should put his infernal vessel! Ouch!
I've never seen such a poorly run ship. If I didn't know better, I would swear the damn cook was in charge! After I gave him a piece of my mind, without fanfare I quit the Deck Department (voluntarily, mind you!). He tried to get me to stay and give him another chance, but I told him I'd had enough of his academy-boy B.S. I also informed him that I would be filing a grievance with the S.U.P. patrolman shortly after we're all fast-Pedro. That got his attention! Solidarity!
Hoping to benefit from the Chief's elevated status (and his extra beer ration), I re-upped by signing articles as Oiler. We'll see how working for the Chief plays out (he's been a little moody, even downright cranky, lately). But, what the heck, if he turns out to be as big a pain-in-the-ass as the Captain, I can always switch back to the Deck Department after the wind shifts (stops blowing out of the Captain's arse and starts blowing out of the NW).
I remain; Bull Oiler, M.F.O.W. (ex-sailing master, becalmed)
----------
radio email processed by SailMail
for information see: http://www.sailmail.com
No comments:
Post a Comment