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

Tday in the Marquises

After some light cruising in the Tuamotus (rat heaven on earth), we have arrived in the Marquises, land of the cannibals, where mana flows like blood. Now that I have set you in a mood of despair, let me say that we had a wonderfully and uneventful Thanksgiving (without coconuts, but the pie made up for their absence)remember I'm a pieRat, with a French guy (single-handers are always hungry, the expression on his face when we explained the holiday was priceless "just food and thanks?!" That's it! No other strings attached to Captain Fraingck's favorite holiday). Then we sailed to the Island of Tahuata (again - 18 months later). We are anchored by  a town of Catholics with a church funded by the big P himself. Tahuatans are also the first in the Marquises to become Catholic, and the area is safe from cannibals.

In other news, I have discovered that Captain Fraingck is not getting a lion, but that the school representative, Leo is coming and after my momentary relief, I remembered that she's the lady with the rat dog! My trap has to be reconfigured.

Scurvy Deckpaw.

Teahupoo

Oct. 28, 2011

Today we arrived at the famous surf spot Teahupoo (pronounced Joe Poe). While the rest of the crew decided to go snorkeling, I went to catch some waves. I paddled out and stood on my rat board. Everything went perfectly...for the first five seconds. Then the wave overpowered me and sucked me to the top of the wave. I pictured myself in an awful picture depicting the world vertically, it went like this: sky, me, wave, air, board, more air, an insufficient amount of water, and finally the reef - then the wave crashed. I had summersaulted through the air, smashed my board in two, and face planted in the reef. I was ground across the reef and my teeth jammed into some cheese coral just as a rat trap clam snagged my tail. With the next wave I was suspended with my nose just out of the water in another totem like image: my nose, my teeth, the coral, my soggy body, my tail, and the clam. The next wave dislodged me and I swam home, another victim of Teahupoo. Unfortunately, I soon discovered that that damned captain Fraingck was ordering a lion. I saw it in the subject line of an email, "Leo coming."  Time to devise a lion trap.

Scurvy Deckpaw

Coconuts Finally!

So the other day we arrived at Raivavae and -finally- I found coconuts. I was excited but when we got ashore I found that they were all green, that's fine if you're thirsty, but there's no crunchy chewy tasty meat in them. After a week, we sailed around the island and anchored off a smaller island. I went ashore with Logan in a kayak but we both had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched and we left quickly. The next day, the captain started an expedition to find meaty coconuts, and of course I came along. When we landed on the same beach Logan and I had visited, we found the thing that was watching us...a goat! Complete with a pair of curly horns and a beard. Captn Fraingck told us that goats could be malicious creatures, and to watch our backs, but in my excitement to lay tooth into juicy white coconut meat, I ignored his advice. I jumped up onto a branch and started looking up for a tree with yellower browner nuts, when BAM I was flying towards the nearest fronds, it actually felt like the tree was falling towards me. I'd been hit smack in the butt by the goat's bent horns and was sent flying past the perfect coconut, halfway across the small island. The crew had hiked around the island to try to find an easier tree to climb, I landed next to them. Captn Fraingck scolded me for being so slow, and then sent me up another tree to pick my portion. I got Kennan to help me carry them back (he's not so wild about coconuts, so his "portion" consisted of one mini coconut). We later learned that there was supposed to be a tupapau (Tahitian for ghost) on the island. A ghost of what, a goat? He seemed solid enough to me! Life as crew is hard - hard on your butt.

~scurvy, deckpaw~

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Rapa not for Rats

Posted dated from 30 April 2011

The other morning I woke up to a LAND HO. I was already planning my escape, but as soon as I looked out my plan was shattered. A barren rock stuck out of the horizon. Captn Fraingck called it Marotini. I ate breakfast and went back to my spot, nose tucked between Kennan's toes, feeling cheated. By the time I looked out again the next day, we were at anchor, this time near a lush island. Thrilled, I jumped out the hatch and joined the shore party. I soon discovered that the island had no coconuts, no birds and no cheese. I was disappointed in the gods. I heard that there was a wizard's island in the middle of the bay. I ventured out to explore the cone shaped island, but discovered that there were no wizards to grant my wish of coconuts. I was disappointed again. The next day while talking to some people my crew mates had met, we found out that on the mountain there was lots of fruit. The first mate selected me as a member of an expedition to the top, but i was not permitted to ride in the backpack since this expedition counted as P.E. - thrice disappointed and once cheated. As we walked up the mountain panting we discovered an orange tree with all the good fruit out of safe reach, which I was ordered to fetch; and lots of small red guavas, which didn't taste so bad, but the mass of seeds were hard and were not nice on my rat guts. However, we picked a whole ton and when we got back to the boat made them into jam. I tried to argue that juice would be much better (no seeds) but was vetoed. I am having a miserable time and officially rate the island of Rapa on the rat scale at a stunning ZERO.

Give me the real tropics, give me coconuts!

~Scurvy,Deckpaw

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