Tethering

Logan is busy making me a nice tether. His knot tying is improving a lot, it's looking pretty fancy. He says it's so I don't fall in, but I overheard Captain Fraingck say the local officials don't want me swimming ashore in the Aleutians. What a bunch of segregationists. They're worried about me fraternizing with the stellar sea lions. So much for tolerance and cross cultural exhanges.

I wouldn't put a toe in their frigid waters anyway. Hmmm, maybe Kennan could add some insulation to my zip-sub, it's been too cold to use it in Hawaii. They don't want me swimming ashore, but they didn't say anything about other modes of transportation.

Scurvy, Able Sea Rat

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Ke¥boa®d ¢en$o®ed

Dea® ®eade®$,

I apologize fo® not w®iting in $¿¢h a long time, b¿t I ha^e been hinde®ed b¥ ¢aptn F®aing¢k'$ meddling. Allow me to explain..."

Be¢a¿$e of what ¢aptn. F®aing¢k ¢all$ "bia$ ¢olo®ation of the fa¢t$" in m¥ ®epo®t he ha$ ¢onfi$¢ated the $, ¢, ¿, ®, ^, and ¥ f®om the ke¥boa®d (a$ ¥o¿ ma¥ ha^e noti¢ed). Fo® month$ I wo®®ied that ¥o¿ g¿¥$ wo¿ld think that I had fallen down the $tai®$ and had gotten amne$ia o® gone into a ¢oma o® $omething (I wa$ al$o wo®®ied abo¿t m¥ blog ®ating$). I th®eatened to $¿e ¢apt'n F®aing¢k ¿nde® the fi®$t amendment b¿t he $aid that the fi®$t ammendment onl¥ applie$ to people and not to ®odent$. $o what'$ a ®ight$ dep®i^ed de¢k®at to do? ¢all on hi$ fellow ¢®ewmate$! Afte® telling them m¥ t¥ping t®o¿ble, the bo¥$ $ta®ted talking abo¿t ¢¿®®en¢¥ t®ading, e^e®¥ time I t®ied to $tee® the ¢on^e®$ation ba¢k to the ta$k at hand the¥ went ba¢k to Dolla®$ and ¥en. An ho¿® late® howe^e®, Logan and Kennan ¢ame ¿p with a b®illiant plan. ¿ntil I get m¥ own ke¥boa®d, I will $¿b$tit¿te the ke¥$ I wo¿ld no®mall¥ ¿$e with the $, ¢, ¿, ®, ^ , and ¥ ke¥$ whi¢h a$ ¥o¿ ¢an $ee wo®k q¿ite well.

$¢¿®^ ¥

Don't Gamble!

I have some advice for you guys. Don't gamble! If you already do gamble, I suggest you seek your adrenaline rush elsewhere (e.g. cliff diving, tornado chasing, shopping on Black Friday, all of which I've tried, but that's another story). In particular, do not gamble with that no good, lying, over-sized, purple paunched ferret, Captn. Fraingck! Cause he will leave you just like me $300 bucks (and a roach buddy may he rest in peace), in the hole without an iota of coconuts to spare. I was forced to sell the two kayaks and I was still short $10. So, I  took more drastic measures. I made a deal with a reptile (almost as untrustworthy as Capt Fraingck). I offered my client, a scrappy gecko, a one way trip to the neighboring island in exchange for a gambling opportunity with me and my shipmates, on the condition that I get 30% of his winnings. Reptiles love gambling, so it was a win win for  him.

"Fifteen percent," he countered.

"Twenty,"  I said.

"Fifteen," he said meaningfully (the guy must have seen how desperate I was).

I paused, then responded, "Twenty, and all the bugs I can catch."

"Deal," he said after a moment's calculation.

After reaching our destination five hours later, things were looking' up. There was a moment in the beginning when Capt'n Fraingck asked what the gecko was betting with, and the guy put down a meager five bucks. The Capt'n said that wasn't enough so the lizard dismembered his own tail and slapped it on top of the fiver (the tail was still wiggling). With my game in one hand and a flyswatter in the other, I managed to keep my head above water. The gecko was raking in the chips and chomping on flies  (we don't actually use chips, but seashells instead). After he cleaned us all out, and everyone had paid him off, the sneak tried to make a run for it (sticky fingers I guess). Quickly, I jumped on top of the escapee, before he could reach the water.

"Hey, no lizard handling!" he cried.

"Come on,:" I said brandishing the flyswatter, "We had a deal."

"Oh that." the gecko said with an evil grin. Then he shoved his bloody tail into my hands. I jumped back in shock and that cold-blooded weasel hopped into the water cackling as he swam to shore with his winnings. Capt'n Fraingck thought that was funny too, until I threw the gecko's tail at him. Now there are two people I know never to gamble with.

Scurvy Able Sea-Rat

Two Years Before the Mast (read Richard Henry Dana)

Yep, like Mr Dana, I did it too. Capt'n Fraingck may not be as mean as the capt'n of the Pilgrim was, but he is no frangipani either. He has his moods, and loves to sail with all canvas up. We sailed 18,000 miles in those two years. Long Wake Silver deserves her nickname.

Last night we were playing cards with the boys. It was a fun game of UNO, mostly for Wonderbread who was raking in the chips like a pro from the Cunard ship line. Then Capt'n Fraingck caught him with a piece of a card stuck in his mandibles. SPLAT!!! My friend Wonderbread was crushed flat in the palm of Capt'n Fraingck right hand. The boss lifted his hand, and Wonderbread was stuck to it, a goopy mess of red backed card oozing out of his abdomen and a piece of a card sticking out of his crushed skull. "Cheater" said capt'n Fraingck wiping his hand off on his engine room rag.

After that I started to loose big time. You never saw a rat losing so fast. My tab is down to minus 36,000 francs. Now Capt'n Fraingck has been super nice to me and in recognition of my long term effort supporting the good moral of the crew, and doing chores without too much shouting about; he released me from the brig, and promoted me to Able Sea Shipmate. Now I can say I'm an A.S.S.

Oh cats! Old Fraingck really nailed me this time.

Scurvy, Able Sea-rat

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A Riotous Happy New Year

Postdated: 7 Jan 2012

After a nice month of festival and exploration, I found myself imprisoned in the chain locker the day Leo left, as requested by Margo and enforced by that bawling blastfumas dog Fraingck (thanks Shakespear). Imagine, me having to do time for the minor infraction of keeping Margo up one measly little night. Let me explain myself in the hopes that my fans will come to save me.

On the third day of the year 2012, I decided to throw a party in celebration of my third year aboard, and the world not having ended yet. With the help of Wonderbread, we set out to party. We grabbed snacks and coconuts, prepared a corner of the bilge for our purpose, and called/radioed in some friends. A bit later they all swam over. Tourettes , a red-eyed, white-colored, rat of undefinable species, hailing from Australia, now living in the Marquesas, joined us. An intellectual guy, he is writing a book called "Cursing Through the Ages: A Compendium of Choice Expletives from the Famous Dead" (warning only lightly censored). Molasses, a brown rat adopted by roaches, arrived with his roach uncle Toe Jam (don't ask) on his back. It didn't take long to get some good card games going (thanks for those suggestions).

Soon I heard Molasses say "Hey, what's this?" holding up a bottle of liquid cane sugar.

"Sugar," I replied.

Exactly six minutes and fifteen seconds later, we had finished the bottle and Molasses got a major sugar rush. He was vibrating so fast I think he started emitting radio waves. Then Toe Jam climbed into the bottle and started hamster-wheeling his way across the boat. After a moment Wonderbread joined in and Molasses jumped on top.

"Are you toxoplasmotic!" Tourettes said, twitching up his head from Capt'n Fraingck's Shakespearian insults mug.

Eventually everyone got rolled over by the bottle at least once (roaches inside the bottle excluded) and finally after a particularly fast run, the bottle shattered against the wall. Everything went downhill from there, the roaches shot off just as Margo came in and yelled something like "FraingckwatsthisbleepmessSCURVYbleepbleepbleep!!!" (expletives removed) Her insults were not nearly as creative as Shakespear's, but she gave Tourettes a run for his money and perhaps inspiration for a sequel to his compendium.

At this point everyone ran. Wonderbread instantly disappeared into the bilge, Molasses stopped for a tenth of a second to grab Toe Jam and jump over the side. Only one point two seconds later Tourettes cursed and followed, leaving innocent me to face Fraingck's wrath at being rudely awakened to defend me from the mate's wrath.

So Leo, apologies for not saying a proper farewell, hugs to your little ratdog. When I break this joint, maybe I'll come visit for some R and R.

Scurvy, Deckpaw

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The Bug, The Blade and Black Jack

There is a new stowaway on board,and I am glad to say that my entry was much less exciting than Wonder Bread's, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

It all started the other night after Captn Fraingck, Margo, and our visitor Leo had gone to bed, Kennan was in the forepeak working on some sort of electronic doohicky with lights and alarms, while Logan and I were reading a book on how to survive in the wilderness (thanks Marc). As I remember, we were debating whether or not the advice about black bears was really meant to be read by rats.

"I'm not sure the author had rats in mind, scurvy," Logan said.

"What do you mean?" I asked,"It's not like we can't read, and it says right here:'If you encounter a black bear DO NOT run, fight back."

"Yes, but you're so small,"Logan replied.

"WHAT! ME? SMALL?!"I challenged rising to my full awesome height.

Luckily, Kennan saved Logan's "size-ist" butt. "Hey guys, there's a roach in here," Kennan called trying to sound casual.

All thoughts of rat versus bear combat evaporated. We've had very few cockroaches onboard, and those we have had do not live long after their discovery. Logan, armed with a pencil, went into the forepeak with me close behind. Kennan was pointing to a knot in the wood of the wall across from him. Then I noticed that the knot was waving it's antennae. "Wow he's uh...big," Logan said with his usual amount of elokwence.

"Oh, I see, first you say that I'm small, then you say that he's big!"

"Here, this should work better than that pencil,"Kennan said, handing Logan a dive knife. Logan (with the 20 foot long alien roach from "Men in Black" fresh in his mind) took the knife.

In my younger years, I had to scrape my living out of a sewer (remind me to tell you guys about that later), so I, unlike you humans, knew that roaches aren't half bad (I wasn't exactly confident in Logan's knifework either). Just as Logan was about to dissect the poor periplaneta, I jumped between the blade and the bug and cried out,"STOP!" All of them froze and looked at me,"You can't kill him...And put that knife away Logan, you're scaring me."

Logan and Kennan looked at each other and  shrugged. Putting down his knife, Logan asked,"Why shouldn't we? They're just scurying scum-suckers without a brain cell to spare."

The roach angrily waved its antennae in (well deserved) indignation."Because it's not right," I replied pie-ously.

"Great, first a cockroach, now a rat with a conscience, not to mention how the others will react." Kennan grumbled.

"I'll keep him hidden fro-Hey! You have a problem with a rat with a conscience?!" I said.

Logan sighed,"OK, the roach stays, but not in my bed."

So I took the roach to my secret stash in the bilge. I sat on a can of sardines while the bug ate some crumbs in the corner. "I don't think I got your name in all that excitement," I said trying to make conversation.

"Wonder Bread," the roach said after a moment.

"Oh, I see. What's your favorite food?" I asked in an attempt to learn more about my new roommate.

"Wonder Bread," announced Wonder Bread.

This was confusing, until I remembered a piece of sewer trivia: Roaches are named after their favorite foods (this leads to frequent name changing among the more adventurous eaters).

"So..."I said just as I noticed a deck of cards (thanks again Marc), "Do you know any card games?"

Wonder Bread twiddled his antennae excitedly, "Garbage!" he said.

Thus began the first of many card games with the new stowaway. Not just Garbage but Poker, Black Jack, Gin Rummy, Crazy Eights, Texas Hold'em, you name it. But we're running out of new games so if you know any please tell me.

Scurvy Deckpaw

Abandon Ship!

My deadline is up - literally. I recently discovered to my dread that I do not have the materials to build a rat dog trap. So I went to plan A2, since plan A failed and I almost never have a plan B. Plan A2: ABANDON SHIP. Some might argue that this should be called plan Z, but it's my permanent default plan A, so A it is. Once I had made up my mind to temporarily abandon ship, (...what...you think I was going to leave the steel fortress that brings me to coconut covered islands?!?), I waited for what looked like shore-leave preparations, grabbed my plan A bag and stowed my self away in the captain's backpack, despite captain fraingck's old rule that I had to carry my own fat tail.

I waited till I had a chance to jump out when wham wham wham wham, four car doors slammed. My plan had backfired, we were driving to the airport in a rental car! Worst of it being (after some exploration) this car was brand new. The only rat holes were on the outside, and would have taken hours to open up. By the time I looked up again, we seemed to have driven to some place in Oregon, the only thing among the pines to show we were in the tropics was the red dirt and some fern trees. We started to descend a scary winding road, and the landscape got drier and drier. I guessed that this side of the island didn't get much rain. Soon we arrived at the airport which was above a small cliff that dropped into the sea - the flattest place on the island. I had to get to the other side or starve! I saw no coconuts anywhere near the airport. So I started widening one of the possible rat holes and ratdog proofing it, with a vague backup plan of climbing a tree if chased off before finishing.

Luckily, the plane was delayed two hours and I had time to finish my hiding place and make a view hole into the parking lot. Finally, the plane landed and Leo walked into sight without the ratdog! My brain started shorting out, then I remembered that customs didn't let animals in without a forty day quarantine (stowaways excluded). Once she came close I heard her say, "Where's Scurvy, I've been looking forward to meeting him." I, being flattered and relieved, timidly showed myself and was bombarded with questions about my adventures.

Scurvy deckpaw