What's up with these birds? Often I think the act is a manifestation of another force unexplained by science or religion.
Truth be told, it was not fresh varnish this time. No, this time it was a newly patched inflatable dinghy. I even gave the thing a scrub job, the bottom of it anyway. Goodbye barnacles, goodbye krill, goodbye phytoplankton? Goodbye zooplankton? I'm still lamely attempting to learn what those little things are.
And then there's the nearly impossible green growth around the waterline.
Well, my standard modus operandi in the dinghy world is keep it looking ghetto. That way it's much less apt to get ripped off and some winged creature acting as a medium for the forces that run the universe came by and made certain the ghetto floating riff-raff image was kept.
A few years ago I mixed myself a nice martini one lovely summer afternoon. That was back in the days when I was a marina baby (an Australian term I was told by a guy I met on the bus who just had his sailboat placed aboard a giant ship for transport to England, the guy wanted to enjoy life aboard in downtown London). Any-who, a fresh summer breeze blew across the port beam as I placed that perfect martini on the chart table and I was just about to have a seat on the starboard settee when PLOP!
Darn bird couldn't have aimed better if it tried. In a rage I get up and look up out the open companionway hatch and there's a cormorant perched on the mast spreaders of the neighbors boat.
"Why you no good son of a b!$@8*!!"
Instantly up was of on the dock slamming the shrouds of the neighbors boat and I'll be damned if that darned cormorant looked down for a second or two before finally casually flying away as I loudly barked the standard American invective. It was an otherwise quiet afternoon in that pleasant marina and what few people that milled about were completely unfazed by the vocal storm. No animal rights activists appeared in protest. No ornithologists came over with a finger shaking lecture. No one came by to wash my mouth out with soap or to clean the martini glass.
Fair Winds
Captain Bill
Truth be told, it was not fresh varnish this time. No, this time it was a newly patched inflatable dinghy. I even gave the thing a scrub job, the bottom of it anyway. Goodbye barnacles, goodbye krill, goodbye phytoplankton? Goodbye zooplankton? I'm still lamely attempting to learn what those little things are.
And then there's the nearly impossible green growth around the waterline.
Well, my standard modus operandi in the dinghy world is keep it looking ghetto. That way it's much less apt to get ripped off and some winged creature acting as a medium for the forces that run the universe came by and made certain the ghetto floating riff-raff image was kept.
A few years ago I mixed myself a nice martini one lovely summer afternoon. That was back in the days when I was a marina baby (an Australian term I was told by a guy I met on the bus who just had his sailboat placed aboard a giant ship for transport to England, the guy wanted to enjoy life aboard in downtown London). Any-who, a fresh summer breeze blew across the port beam as I placed that perfect martini on the chart table and I was just about to have a seat on the starboard settee when PLOP!
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| Osprey out to break sailboat wind indicators for fun. |
Darn bird couldn't have aimed better if it tried. In a rage I get up and look up out the open companionway hatch and there's a cormorant perched on the mast spreaders of the neighbors boat.
"Why you no good son of a b!$@8*!!"
Instantly up was of on the dock slamming the shrouds of the neighbors boat and I'll be damned if that darned cormorant looked down for a second or two before finally casually flying away as I loudly barked the standard American invective. It was an otherwise quiet afternoon in that pleasant marina and what few people that milled about were completely unfazed by the vocal storm. No animal rights activists appeared in protest. No ornithologists came over with a finger shaking lecture. No one came by to wash my mouth out with soap or to clean the martini glass.
Fair Winds
Captain Bill
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