ADVENTURESS - Message de Jeremiah

2015-01-11

Pacing the foredeck makes for glorious site-seeing. Billowed sails sucking wind and an industrious crew suited and booted for harness wearing, clipped-in action sequences. Bowsprit ballet and a hug on the netlines in the head rig before plunging underwater. It's research. We are product testing our foul weather gear.

 

Pacing the foredeck makes for glorious site-seeing. Billowed sails sucking wind and an industrious crew suited and booted for harness  wearing, clipped-in action sequences. Bowsprit ballet and a hug on the netlines in the head rig before plunging underwater. It's research. We are product testing our foul weather gear.
Out there at the pointy forward end of a 1924 wooden built ocean-riding engineered work of art, in the pitch dark night as the sea rushes by, is awesome. The surprisingly warm water surfed over us like rapids in the widest river, tumbling down a canyon between continents. More and more phosphorescence rushed by, like galaxy stars in a hyper-drive space ship. Survival instinct is white-knuckle grip tight, both mentally on your enhanced-senses mind and physically on whatever boat bit is available to grab ahold of. Two of earth's elements howl, and we and our boat howl back.
There are dings and rings, knocks and bangs, slaps and raps, whacks and thwacks, and all that just to clamber out of a bunk for watch. Clothing hangs from strings and beams. Footwear is up for sale under the writing desk. Wearing a pair of socks on a pair of feet means speed skating across the teak sole. Bum sliding has also been successful during boat-twisted-sideways heeling. The sole angles and moves and accepts gifts of unattended coffee, olive oil conditioning, swirling dust bunnies, rogue apples, and galletas con chocolate crumbs. Gear and harnesses go missing, are found, and are swapped. We give our fair vessel and a sweep and a scrub and an organizational whirlwind. Then back on deck we go for another stint.
We coil lines and repack sails, set boom preventers and toss water by pails. Bright-hued clothing in reds and blues and yellows and oranges. Deck shoes or rubber boots or bare toes? Hats and headbands and bandanas and pirate napkins held secure on our skulls by headlamps that shine red on the rig and go easy on the eyesight night vision. We dish up grub, Connor's Thaiella this time, the best of Spanish paella and Thai-spiced coconut milk, with laughing humor and fist pumping intensity in alternating waves. Contemplaton and serenity in quiet moments, whether a blanket of soft, comforting clouds overhead, easing the sky's vastness, or falling darkness and the peaceful hours on either side of midnight.
Griffin wrote of restorative shut-eye, and the subsequent buzzing vessel as the fresh crew took on dusk and the dinner hour with intensity, enjoyment, and good vibes. However, the buzzing may refer to a few grizzly bear hibernation sounds, the kind of rumbling that confirms solid sleep, energy gained with each audible breath, and each dream one minute, one hour, one watch closer to doing it all over again.

Out there at the pointy forward end of a 1924 wooden built ocean-riding engineered work of art, in the pitch dark night as the sea rushes by, is awesome. The surprisingly warm water surfed over us like rapids in the widest river, tumbling down a canyon between continents. More and more phosphorescence rushed by, like galaxy stars in a hyper-drive space ship. Survival instinct is white-knuckle grip tight, both mentally on your enhanced-senses mind and physically on whatever boat bit is available to grab ahold of. Two of earth's elements howl, and we and our boat howl back.

There are dings and rings, knocks and bangs, slaps and raps, whacks and thwacks, and all that just to clamber out of a bunk for watch. Clothing hangs from strings and beams. Footwear is up for sale under the writing desk. Wearing a pair of socks on a pair of feet means speed skating across the teak sole. Bum sliding has also been successful during boat-twisted-sideways heeling. The sole angles and moves and accepts gifts of unattended coffee, olive oil conditioning, swirling dust bunnies, rogue apples, and galletas con chocolate crumbs. Gear and harnesses go missing, are found, and are swapped. We give our fair vessel and a sweep and a scrub and an organizational whirlwind. Then back on deck we go for another stint.

We coil lines and repack sails, set boom preventers and toss water by pails. Bright-hued clothing in reds and blues and yellows and oranges. Deck shoes or rubber boots or bare toes? Hats and headbands and bandanas and pirate napkins held secure on our skulls by headlamps that shine red on the rig and go easy on the eyesight night vision. We dish up grub, Connor's Thaiella this time, the best of Spanish paella and Thai-spiced coconut milk, with laughing humor and fist pumping intensity in alternating waves. Contemplaton and serenity in quiet moments, whether a blanket of soft, comforting clouds overhead, easing the sky's vastness, or falling darkness and the peaceful hours on either side of midnight.

Griffin wrote of restorative shut-eye, and the subsequent buzzing vessel as the fresh crew took on dusk and the dinner hour with intensity, enjoyment, and good vibes. However, the buzzing may refer to a few grizzly bear hibernation sounds, the kind of rumbling that confirms solid sleep, energy gained with each audible breath, and each dream one minute, one hour, one watch closer to doing it all over again.

 

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