Sunday, April 18, 2010

The Voyage of the Complete Fiasco

(Regarding the vessel's name, this is not the official version, rather it was the one selected by survivors of this excursion.)
1 The Vessel
2.The Captain
3. The Crew
4. Provisioning the Vessel
5. A-Sailing They Go
6. High Tide
7. Call Joe the Plumber
8. Attack of Killer Dolphins
9. Frigging with the Rigging
10. The Longest Night
11. Rescued at last, Rescued at Last, Yada, Yada, Yada.

The Vessel
The --- -- -- was
a wooden sailing vessel
named after the wife of Matt MacWrong.
In design it was
reminiscent of a barge,
nearly as wide as it was long.

Those familiar with sailing vessels
might have called it a bark,
but to non-nautical types
it was unmistakably The Ark.

Though not of recent vintage,
the boat was solid as a brick.
With a draft of 8 ft, and weighing 50 tons,
she could take a serious lick.

A head, galley, and genset,
were among her amenities,
and she had an auxiliary engine,
for motoring at sea.

The Captain
The owner and Captain
was Dr Matt MacWrong,
who, concerning misadventures at sea,
had a resume`that was long.

Whether Matt was a competent sailor
is difficult to say,
but routine maintenance and preparation
were clearly not his forte.

He could be described, most generously
as someone who sailed
by the seat of his pants.
Skippers of the first rank
prepared for all eventualities
well in advance.

Matt often claimed that he planned
to write an autobiography.
Some of his cohorts snidely suggested a title;
"My Losing Battle with the Sea."

The Crew
The crew were all greenhorns,
new faculty members and graduate students
who didn't know the score.
Anyone who had sailed
with Matt previously,
rarely came back for more.

Those who had been around for awhile
knew just what to do,
when word spread that Matt
was trying to round up a crew.
Suddenly everyone had places to go,
people to see, and things to do.

So the voyage had all the ingredients
of a most unpromising stew,
a sometimes reckless captain, a poorly maintained vessel,
and an unsuspecting, greenhorn crew.

Provisioning the Vessel
Although this was planned
as a simple day cruise,
one thing not lacking
was an abundant supply of booze.

There were ten cases
of beverages that were malty,
and two large grocery sacks
of sandwiches and snacks quite salty.

There was one case of gin and vodka
with assorted mixers,
so if poisonous sea snakes were encountered,
these were the magic elixirs.

And just in case,
there were emergency rations too,
namely, one six-pack of bottled water,
and one of Mountain Dew.

A-Saling They Go
A routine day sail was planned,
twelve nautical miles north to Anclote Key and back,
with a prevailing westerly of 10 kts,
they wouldn't even need to tack.

Had the crew been more savvy
there would have been some dismay,
when the sails were unfurled at the dock,
as they got underway.

Matt maneuvered down the narrow residential canal,
barely missing a couple of docks,
and while several neighbors shouted profanities,
most appeared to be in shock.

The next challenge was the Clearwater Pass drawbridge
which, in relation to the vessel
did not seem very wide.
But Matt said "don't sweat it,
if I stay right in the middle,
we'll have 3 ft on either side.

Disaster was narrowly averted
and as they left the bay,
a northerly course was set,
and the partying got underway.

It was a capital day for sailing
and they proceeded blissfully,
the time was nearing high noon
as they approached Anclote Key.

There were shoals in the vicinity of Anclote
that were clearly marked on every chart,
and if Matt had bothered to consult one,
he'd have known that from the start.

Matt proclaimed "we'll just go
a little further before turning to the south,"
when the boat came to a grinding stop,
as those words barely left his mouth.

Mariners of all types
abhor running aground.
But the remedy is usually simple,
reverse your engine and back down.

When using the auxiliary engine was suggested
to Matt, he acted like it was a joke.
He replied that "a good sailor doesn't need an engine,
and besides the damn thing is broke."

High Tide
When asked what he planned to do
the skipper seemed undismayed.
He said "we'll just wait for high tide,
and then we will float away."

The crew wanted to know
just when high tide might be?
Matt replied that "he had forgotten to bring a tide chart,
so they would just have to wait and see."

Several minutes later
a small outboard cruised by slowly.
Matt shouted to to the skipper,
"do you know when high tide will be"?

The skipper called loud and clear
as he motored toward the bow,
"my chart says high tide is 12:30 today,
which happens to be right now."

Several crew members groaned audibly
and calling the Coast Guard was suggested.
Matt said he wasn't convinced it was high tide,
and he had ideas that needed to be tested

Evidence that high tide had been reached
began to accumulate rapidly.
The current which had been slack,
began to flow southwesterly,
and the vessel began to heel over,
ever so sickeningly.

Call Joe the Plumber
It was about this time that the call of nature
began to strike the crew,
and then it was sadly discovered
that they had a wounded loo.

When word of this calamity spread,
there was grumbling among the crew.
Matt responded somewhat sheepishly,
"I knew there was something I needed to do."

The head was operated manually
to pump waste over the side.
But the valve was ruptured,
so no amount of pumping would now abide.

All good mariners know that, in a pinch
a 5 gallon bucket will do,
but as one might guess,
that had been left behind too.

The skipper was undismayed
for he had a plan,
ladies go to the stern,
and the bow is for each man.

Matt admonished the crew
"just forget about your pride,
for every good sailor learns
just to hang it over the side."

Attack of the Killer Dolphins
It was mid afternoon, the sun was beating down,
and the booze was kicking in.
Most of the crew members decided,
that the time was ripe for a swim.

The crew was feeling better frolicking in the sea,
when a small pod of dolphins cruised by.
Several greenhorns spotted them, and in unison
let loose a blood-curdling cry.

"Sharks, a big school
and they're heading our way.
Everyone out of the water,
or we'll make their day."

While the crew were all landlubbers,
they were back on the boat
in less than a New York minute.
It was like watching penguins 
vaulting onto an ice floe,
with a leopard seal in hot pursuit.

The Captain had remained on board
having a good view of this hilarious scene,
but he stifled a desire to laugh,
and chided the crew with a scream.

"You can't tell a shark from a dolphin,
now that's a sorry crew,
if we had a serious problem,
I hate to think what you might do."

Frigging with the Rigging
The sun and the tide were descending,
and the deck angle reached 45 degrees.
The sailors could neither stand nor walk,
but fortunately there were calm seas.

Then suddenly Matt exclaimed,
"I've got a plan,
but in order for it to work,
we'll need every woman and man."

"Now that the boat is heeled far over
we'll tie ropes to the top of the masts.
Then we'll pull down with all of our strength,
and we should be free at last."

So the plan was executed,
and the crew pulled mightily.
The boat did not move one inch,
but at least neither mast broke off,
And fell into the sea.

At this time a small outboard
came idling by.
The skipper looked at this bizarre scene,
and could hardly believe his eyes.

Here was a large wooden sailing vessel
lying on its side, like a mortally wounded beast.
The crew was in the water dangling from ropes,
was this a hashish feast?

The boater came alongside
and shouted out loud and clear,
" I hope you know what you're doing
for you seem to have no fear,
but we catch a lot of sharks from these waters,
at this time of the year."

In just a minute or two,
a crew member gave a loud shout,
"something bumped my leg,"
and again they all catapulted out.

Everyone was wet and miserable,
there was grumbling all about.
They asked Matt what was next,
since his plan hadn't quite worked out.

They finally badgered Matt
into calling the Coast Guard,
which he went below to do.
Everyone waited apprehensively,
they were in a veritable stew.

Matt returned and cheerily announced
that everything was O.K.
Since they weren't in imminent danger
the Coast Guard would be there,
just after sunrise next day.

This was bad news to most of the crew,
who, if they had their way,
would have ended this nightmare voyage
not tomorrow, but today.

Little did they realize
as they settled in for the night,
that what nature had in store for them,
would have given even real mariners a fright.

The Longest Night
Everyone was in misery as each one
suffered to some degree,
from sunburn and dehydration,
along with hunger and constipation.

The food was long gone
as were the water and Mountain Dew.
All that remained were
several cases of malty brew.

But now when a can was opened
it was sipped quite reluctantly.
Whereas several hours earlier,
each one had been savored lustily.

The crew was settled in for the night,
some above deck and some below.
It was bound to be uncomfortable,
but little did they know.

A fair westerly had blown all day,
and continued into the night.
Then two hours after sundown,
it diminished and grew light.

Then in short order
a buzzing sound was heard,
it was followed by a loud slap
and a most emphatic f-word.

The slapping and cursing
quickly escalated.
They were dumbfounded as they realized
that a horde of mosquitoes had invaded.

The two cans of bug spray on board
were quickly dissipated.
So the onslaught of the bloodsuckers
continued unabated.

Where the horde had come from
was the mystery.
But all local mariners knew
that near Anclote Key on a calm night,
was not the place to be.

A number of the crew thought about
escaping the mosquitoes
by taking a dip.
But, based on the warning they'd received
there could be just as many sharks as mosquitoes,
swarming around the ship.

Not surprisingly, it was decided
by each member of the crew,
that it was better to endure a thousand small bites,
than just a large one, or two.

Just when it seemed that things
couldn't get any worse,
they were visited by yet
another unexpected curse.

A lightning bolt streaked across the sky,
and the heavens reverberated.
the skies unleashed a torrential downpour,
while the winds quickly escalated.

Everyone crowded into the cabin
to escape the driving rain,
but they quickly discovered
that this effort was in vain.

The horizontal sheets of rain
blew right in the cabin door,
and through the leaky cabin roof
there came even more.

In no time at all,
they were soaked to the skin.
Matt tried to boost their spirits
with the following spin.

"Hey gang, this must be
our lucky day.
If not for this nice storm,
those mosquitoes would have carried us away."

That went over
like a lead ballon,
for the crew was now mired
in a pit of gloom.

Then one by one
the realization set in,
that their misery would increase,
as evaporation cooled their skin.

And even though the air temperature
was near 80 degrees,
the sodden sailors felt like
they were about to freeze.

Teeth were chattering,
and bodies were shuddering,
but the only warm things on board,
were the words they were muttering.

The crew did their very best
to will the interminable night away.
They even let out a mock cheer,
when they detected the first light of day.

Rescued at Last, Rescued at Last, Yada, Yada, Yada.
Just after sunrise, a small Coast Guard Cutter
came into view.
It was a most welcome sight
to the disheveled, and despairing crew.

The Cutter pulled up to the stricken vessel,
which was again lying on its side.
The Captain called out loud and clear,
"there's nothing we can do until high tide,
so we're heading back to port right now,
does anyone want a ride?"

Matt had to literally restrain them
from jumping off his ship.
Then slowly the transfer was executed
without anyone taking a dip.

As the Captain, Matt had to remain
and he was clearly in a stew,
for in addition to everyone else,
his wife left too.

The crew members all waved, albeit mockingly,
as the Cutter pulled away.
Mat gritted his teeth, turned his back,
and looked the other way.

Another voyage ended for the Captain,
with no taste of glory.
And to a long list there was added,
yet one more Matt MacWrong story.











Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Tiger's Taboos

.(Things that spectators, players, and broadcasters are prohibited from saying (or shouting) while Tiger is playing at the Masters this week.)

1. Get in the hole!
2. Never up, never in.
3.Boss of the moss.
4.Any reference to playing "head" games.
5. Any reference to Tiger's "length."
6. Any phrase that includes the words "strokes" or "stroking."
7. He put that one in there "stiff."(close to the pin.)
8. Any statement which might confuse the words "lie" or "lay."
In other words, Tiger cannot have a good "lie" or "lay,"
nor a bad "lie" or "lay." Got it!

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

The Donut Shop

(For many years, Mr Bill's Donut Shop was an institution in Tarpon Springs. Several years ago, at the age of 80 Mr Bill decided to sell out. The new owner's were not successful, and the business folded.)

Mr Bill's in the morning, was the place to be at dawning,
that's where all the heavy palaver was going down.
If you wanted to know who, where, when, why, and what for,
it was the virtual encyclopedia of this town

Each morning the pundits did gather, in their august manner,
to ponder the great questions of the day.
Did the Rays win last night, will they give the Yankees a fight,
and is Walmart really here to stay?

On any given day, the cast of characters might have included,
ex-pols, shipwrights, fish mongers, Greek chefs, psychologists,
cosmetologists, sponge clippers, pate nippers( barbers),
mechanics of assorted types,
and a variety of jack's-of-all-trades.

So with this much expertise, the free advice you received
was worth exactly what you paid.

Cathy served the coffee, while Ned and Blaine conspired
to keep the pot boiling.
They loved to give Cathy the needle,
while she was toiling.

On occasion, there were some hot words flying,
and if looks could kill, there would have been some dying.
But no bodies ever hit the floor.
It was all in fun, no one got sore(usually).

As for Mr Bill, he tended to remain quiet and mostly still.
He spoke softly, so when he tried to get a word in,
he could rarely be heard above the prevailing din.

So while the Donut Shop is no more,
it will remain part of the local lore.