Tis a most distressing thought, indeed.
Jeebus it's hard to write like that...
For those that don't know, I've recruited four other hearty souls to join me on a nautical adventure next spring, as some gullible folks in Marina Del Rey have decided that it'd be a wise business decision to hand the keys to a $250,000 yacht to me and my merry band. Clearly they have no idea who they're dealing with.
Ever since we've signed on for this adventure, the pirate-speak and nautical jargon, however misguided, has flowed like stolen rum. We're but humble pirates, and not much of a raiding party at all, content to basically hang out, listen to Buffett music, drink beer, smoke cigars, grill some meat, and maybe play a little bit of poker. Pillage and plunder would be cool too, but that's an awful lot of work.
However, just the planning stage of this enterprise has created so much anticipation that the mere mention of March Madness, the usual highlight of the yearly social calendar, has been met with an indifferent, collective Huh?.... What?
As the captain of this ship of fools, I must bear a heavier share of the burden, as I am responsible for the safety and well-being of not only the crew, but the ship itself. So my planning and organizing gene has gone into hyper-drive, and I've been trying to prepare for any scenario and familiarize myself with the most minute of details.
Since I haven't been at the helm of a sailing vessel for almost five years, I really feel like I've got my work cut out for me. As much as I'd like to do a nice relaxing cruise this fall, I have to save my vacation time and go back out and spend some time taking refresher courses. Hell, I even broke out the old textbooks from when I got my original ASA certifications back in June of 2001 and started re-reading them. It's amazing, the stuff you forget, if you don't use it.
But it's not exactly hard work. Yes, there is much to do in the meantime, and many expenses to meet, but when it is something you enjoy, it's worth every sacrifice. As much as I'd love to spend ten days cruising around the Caribbean on a big damn ship, drinking duty-free rum and laughing it up with my family, I'd rather be slightly uncomfortable on a choppy day in Santa Monica Bay, creating a new set of blisters while I practice tacking, jibing, reefing, and heaving-to aboard a small boat. And as much as I'd like to be wandering Fremont Street with a tall slushy drink in my hand and referring to all of my friends as "Bitches" as we get tossed out of one casino after another this October, I'm pretty sure I'd rather be working on my navigation skills, man-overboard drills, and basic seamanship while experiencing the sights, sounds, and smells of the ocean.
Vegas is cool and all, but the feeling of standing under the Fremont Street Canopy, with a drink in my hand, a pocketful of house money, and a group of degenerates at my side doesn't even come close to the thrill I get at the helm of a sailboat on a breezy day--the sun, the wind, and the waves combine to make an intoxicating cocktail that no bartender in Sin City could ever hope to pour.
As you may have guessed by now, I'm really looking forward to it.
So are my boys, the Brethren of the Coast--
- Tortuga Al -- Cabin Boy, Scourge of the North Country, and Ship's Doctor. We tried to trade him for a cask of rum once, but nobody was buyin'. Odds-on favorite to return from this adventure sporting a either a pegleg, hook, or eye patch. Maybe all three.
- The Dread Pirate Dougie -- Longboat Pilot and Quartermaster, who's ill-gotten treasures, taken from those who have challenged him in games of chance, are legendary. That skill may yet come in handy. If not, we may change his name to just plain old 'Chum'.
- Gypsy Rob -- Bosun, Deckhand, Able Seaman. His thirst for adventure remains unquenched, having traded the flatlands of the midwest for the rolling seas. His Indian name means 'Calm Before the Storm'. Either that, or 'Drinks Like a Fish'. No one knows for sure. As long as it doesn't mean 'Pukes to Windward', I think we're cool.
- Graybeard George -- Procurer of Fine Tobacco and Grog, Mighty Hunter, Ship's Bartender. George is always the most popular crewmember, and he knows 'some guys' at the East India Trading Company that can get stuff for us, you know, like off the back of a truck...
- Captain Hurricane Mikey -- Skipper, Chief Navigator, Ship's Cook, HNIC, Master and Commander of this motley rabble. He's the only captain to sail the Seven Seas without a funny hat. When not at the helm, his duties as Ship's Cook require him to somehow feature bacon and rum with every meal...
Anyhow, there is much to do over the next several months and I even started a shopping list of stuff I'm gonna "need", in addition to coughing up some scratch for a few refresher courses:
Sailing Gloves
A new knife
A mariner's handheld GPS
Southern California Charts
Navigation tools
Some of those jeans with fleece lining
A turtleneck
A windbreaker
A big damn wool sweater
A hand-bearing compass
A funny hat
Wool socks
T-shirts for the crew
A talking parrot?
Essentials, all. In the meantime, I'm also going to busy myself by memorizing all of Captain Quint's lines from the movie Jaws. I'm sure nobody will be tired of that after three days at sea.
Mikey
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