They went to sea in a sieve

10 March, 2007

It was a week ago that I left Key West. I wrapped my eyeglasses in a giant tropical leaf and only just now did they fall out of my laptop case. So, I tucked them over my ears and sat down to write a little bit.

They went to sea in a sieve, they did; In a sieve they went to sea: In spite of all their friends could say; On a winter's morn, on a stormy day; In a sieve they went to sea. ~Edward Lear

Pride of Baltimore II is the first wooden vessel I've ever sailed on, full of beauty and quirks. Our bo's'n; Mike Fiorentino just finished the third wet-down of the decks. The decks are wood and have dried and shrunk over the winter season. As with any wooden vessel, water actually holds the boat together by keeping the planks fat and happily tight fitting. The first and second times we wet down the decks, the water poured into my little world below decks. The girls ran around with tuna cans and anything else they could find to catch the water. I grabbed a cleaning bucket from the counter, forgetting that it was half full of soapy water. Laughter, scurrying and water everywhere. Today, it seems that the wood is beginning to swell. My galley didn't leak at all. Huzzah for us!

Everyone is involved in their own busy tasks, getting the boat ready for another smashing season. Ryan and Sarah are bustling around in sleeveless shirts as if we're in sunny Maui instead of a fickle Baltimore spring. Goodness sakes! I'm still shivering in my johnnies, having thoroughly misplaced my tough northern resilience to cold. Of course, that doesn't explain Ryan, who was in Key West too. I'm suspicious that he's running on pure masichismo though. I'm cold enough to find some excuse to start working again and finish with this cold fingered typing business. Farewell, my loves.