If the truth be known, I don't really like showering. On a boat, I like it even less. Showering on a boat is compared sometimes to standing in a closet with a wet dog. The shower on my boat is converted into a closet, so the comparison is partly true in my case. And seeing how there's often a wet dog sleeping in my bathroom... I digress.
Sailors out at sea for long periods of time often use a shower that comes in a small plastic box. It's called HUGGIES my friends. There are lots of ways to keep the important bits clean without showering. Nuff said...
Today I was interrogated on my shower aversion. I said, sure it's easy for you to shower in a house. You jump out of bed and walk into the shower. I have to get fully dressed BEFORE I shower, walk the equivalent of a city block to the shower building, carrying a backpack full of toiletries. On the way down the dock, I may run into up to six people: people who will offer me coffee or liquor; people who will ask me directions to another dock; people who will want to discuss the latest book they lent me, people who need their boat caught while docking. All of this is fine, but it does not make for a 'quick shower'. Once inside the building, I enter an area fairly unsecured from the general public. I can only assume there is a spycam watching me shower. This is not vanity. If there isn't a spycam, a member of the league of perverts has truly disappointed perverts worldwide by missing such an opportunity. OY! Once showered, I get dressed, and walk back up the dock, repeating the whole process. I guess what I'm trying to say is, showering is definitely something I unashamedly reserve for special occasions and as a courtesy to those who sign my paycheque. And to the interrogator, you know who you are, assume I will NOT be showering before you come over and let me cook you dinner...
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
A Visit to Loonyburg, Nova Scotia
In the spring, I visited Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. While walking up and down the quaint streets of this fine maritime town, I came across a very mean kitty. When I tried to pet this charming little alley cat, it bit me on the hand. Then I took a picture!
The Picton Castle was moored in the harbour of Lunenburg. On the night of December 8, 2006, as the Picton Castle was roughly 760 south-east of Cape Cod, the ship encountered bad weather; a wave swamped the ship, sweeping one of the crew overboard. The person swept overboard was later identified as lead seaman Laura Gainey, daughter of Bob Gainey and respected member of the Picton Castle professional crew. She was never found. The ship looked damn eerie the day I saw it.
And in light of that tragic event at sea, I found this adjacent marble memorial rather moving.
The Picton Castle was moored in the harbour of Lunenburg. On the night of December 8, 2006, as the Picton Castle was roughly 760 south-east of Cape Cod, the ship encountered bad weather; a wave swamped the ship, sweeping one of the crew overboard. The person swept overboard was later identified as lead seaman Laura Gainey, daughter of Bob Gainey and respected member of the Picton Castle professional crew. She was never found. The ship looked damn eerie the day I saw it.
And in light of that tragic event at sea, I found this adjacent marble memorial rather moving.
Friday, July 9, 2010
The Inferno
What can I say about the heat wave that hasn't already been said? I was happy to be on the lake instead of in the concrete jungle which by all accounts was at least 5 degrees warmer. Sadie enjoys cooling off at the beach, digging for morsels of dead fish, crumbs of bread and bits of ecstasy tablets left behind by naked revellers. The old yacht heated up nicely moored on the dock. The lampshade wilted like Scarlett Ohara. The stairs morphed into a ramp. And my Advil liquigels melted into one big capsule - if only I could find a whale with a migraine.
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