Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,
In my family we never celebrated Christmas or anything for that matter, but I hear you give out goodies so I've taken up the tradition.

I also hear that I have to give presents too, but I'm dirt poor and can't afford anything, so if giving presents is a requirement, then I would like to add "presents from scurvy" to my wish-list (but nothing for that tyrannical captain Fraingck! Except maybe kerosine instead of coal - it's more his style). But enough about others, on to my own wish-list. For Christmas I would like a shark proof rat sub, coconut flavored cheddar, a crab basher like a Maori club, and a rat-sized automatic three-shot gas operated speargun.

-Scurvy Rat-

A New School

I'm sorry I haven't been writing as much as usual, but I've been so busy with S.Q.U.A.A.A.A.A.K.Y. That's short for Scurvy's Quick Undergraduate Academy of Anti-Aeronautic Avians Against Killing Yourself. It's a school I set up for the flightless birds of New Zealand so that they can learn the most critical skill a bird can learn (if in unorthodox ways). My students were a bit skeptical at first, "Why should I take lessons from the same animal that eats my eggs?" the Kiwi asked.

"I already know how to swim, why fly?" said the penguin.

"If I die because I jump off a cliff, there'll only be 146 of my species left," the Kakapoo complained.

"But birds were meant to fly!" I exclaimed.

"Says who," said the penguin.

"Says evolution!" I said. The birds looked at me with a blank stare. "You know...Darwin's finches?" I said.

"Finches are jerks," the kiwi muttered.

I could see I wasn't getting anywhere with these guys, so I brought out my SQUAAAAAKY spokesbird, an albatross I had met on the way down.

"Land sucks," he sighed funereally. This was basically his central thesis. He went on and on about land like it was a dead family member he really didn't like anyway. He was very convincing, and eventually they all caved. Then he somberly flew back to the sea.

We started with bungie jumping so they would get used to the whole in-the-air thing. Now we're at the glider phase (with Kennan's help, I designed gliders like mine for each of them). The kiwi is having the most trouble. I guess some birds weren't meant to fly, but I'm determined that SQUAAAAAKY will succeed. Merry Christmas

-Scurvy-

Marine Biologist

It was a beautiful afternoon on the Tasman sea, a hundred miles southwest of Cape Maria VanDiemen. As I was admiring the flight of a very large albatross, a humongous whale surfaced not far up wind. The stench of it engulfed us as the spray fell on us. The sperm whale has only one blow hole toward the front of it's massive head. The head is about a third of the body. It's eyes are ridiculously small. A blink from Moby, a wave of the tail, and it was gone.

Silence again.

A little later Logan spotted two more doing some synchronized swimming, no matter how big, they are graceful swimmers, the waltz of the sperm lasted only a few minutes at the surface, but undoubtedly it continued a mile deeper.

Silence again.

when another one surfaced Logan talked about how some scientists use a radio controlled helicopters to collect DNA from the spout of a whale. Kennan complained that his helicopter was out of service. Logan, Q-tip in hand, was bummed. The whale lifted it's tail and followed the others down into the grand blue ocean.

A short silence.

This time a whale twice the size of the others, the bull of the pod presumably, surfaced at a ninety  degree angle to us, just off our starboard bow. Captain Fraingck grabbed the q-tip, shoved it in my mouth, and threw me over the bow onto the leviathan. The landing was not graceful but I made it. Logan screamed: "Go get the sample scurvy, go!"

I was right on the spout, q-tip in paw, when the monster took in a great gulp of air. Well you guessed it, the little rat was inhaled by the big monster.

It was dark in there, and the descent into the abyss was vertical, and long - very, very long. I heard the whale clacking; he was echo-locating his squiddy prey.  A loud snapping of the jaw was followed by the start of a slow ascent. Twenty minutes later, the whale surfaced, and I was blown thirty feet in the air. From up there I saw Silver Lining making circles. I landed not too far from a life buoy that was adrift. The inscription on the life ring said Arctic Chieftain, Freemantle. I was safe. the boys found me soon. I had lost the q-tip but I was covered with whale snot.
Logan said: "Where do we send our sample now?"
Captain Fraingck answered:"Go wash your rat!"


Scurvy

Flying Under the Radar

We arrived in New Zealand late at night, and after docking and hot chocolate, everyone went to bed. I wasn’t tired, so I went for a midnight stroll across the quarantine dock. On the way, I saw a sign with a series of animals on it, all with crosses through them. There were mice, ants, dogs, cats, roaches, and (get this!) RATS! So I spent the next hour on the boat with a paper and pencil freezing my tail off trying to figure out a plan. As the night wore on, more and more boats started showing up, and that’s when I made my plan, well more of a scheme really.

The next morning I crawled up to the top of the mast with my bat suit on, and waited. There were sixteen other boats at the quarantine dock, which meant that customs would be in such a hurry to get through all the boats that they would not notice a rat fly past. Everything was going swimmingly until I fell asleep, maybe it was the morning sun, maybe the long crossing, but I dozed off. When I woke up, the customs officer was quickly walking towards Silver Lining, so I awkwardly jumped off tumbling through the air trying to catch the wind (like the bats had explained to me). As I fell, I heard a doppler effect ringtone, and just as I caught the air it stopped. I was gliding in an odd position that I had never been in before but which I will now call “The Air Backstroke.” (any comments for a better name?). From my position you could see he was reading a text message that read, “ Want to do lunch?” I flewunder the radar arch and on to the safety of land.

Scurvy

Another Great Escape

We had a good time in Tonga. The coconuts were plentiful and so yummy!
A day after we left I overheard capt'n Fraingck telling Margo with great concern "We are being chased by two cats," My blood almost curdled! So I ran on deck with my new foulies the boys had made for me from a surgical glove - I don't care for the color purple, but that's another story. The weather is foul to say the least, waves wash the deck twenty times a minute, the temperature is down in the sixties, the wind is in the twenties. This I endure in silence trimming sails night and day... The Cats are still behind us! May this wind last until we reach the New Zealand customs officials. According to the customs papers quote: "All dogs, cats, and birds will be destroyed." Nothing in there about rats though.

-Scurvy-

Scurvy Bat

Ah! Pago Pago, the half-floating plastic bags (better known as Pago Pago Jellies), and the smell of steamed tuna (or the southwest “Starkist” wind). I was thinking about these things as I crawled up to the cockpit, when a shadow came over me. I looked up to see a silhouette of Logan suspended from a line in his bosuns hair. I called up to him, and asked if I could try. So he rigged something up for me. It took him awhile to secure me to the line and in the end he said, “ That should do it.” And up I went. Swinging in the rigging was lots of fun, in fact, it was so much fun I stayed up there all day. Towards dusk, long after Logan had gone back down, I was still enjoying myself when disaster struck. I felt a jerk and started to fall, “LOOOOOGGGGAAAAAAHHHHH!” This was the end, why did I have to escape in THAT boat all those months ago? Just before I hit the boat, everything went black.

I should clarify that everything went black, not because I was rendered unconscious, but because I was now on the back of a large fruit bat! The bat took me to a big mango tree that had a bunch of bats hanging from it. The tree would probably have been really cool, if I could fly, but as you may have noticed I cannot. They tried to give me pointers about riding air currents and recovering from a stall, but this was all presuming that I had wings and basic training. So towards dawn my savior (a little miffed that I hadn’t learned how to fly) took me back to the boat.

Scurvy

Scurvy Cousteau

A few days after my last message, I woke up one morning, and the boat was stopped. I was still stuck in the engine room. At one end of the room was a bowl of canned greenbeans, and at the other was the hamsterwheel. I hated greenbeans, and I loathed hamsters, but that's another story. Then I heard the door click open, so I grabbed my weapon of choice(a screwdriver), and brandished it, ready to confront Captn Fraingck. But it was not the Captn. It was the boys. I came up to them thinking they had come to rescue me, but instead they stuck me in a ziplock bag with a straw glued in a hole in it, sealed the bag, and before I could protest threw me out the aft window and just before I hit the water I blacked out.

I woke up a couple of minutes later trying to figure out why Logan and Kennan threw me in a bag and THEN in the water; when I noticed that I was sitting on a piece of paper. I opened it up, at the top it read, "Instructions to the Rat-Specified Submarine." It was full of helpful information and diagrams like "stick tail in breathing tube when diving." "Great," I thought,"now all I have to do is find out how to drive this thing." I scanned the page, but there was nothing. I looked around me but there wasn't anything that looked like a means of propultion. I looked at the back of the manual in despair,and noticed that at the very bottom it said "Good Luck",and that did it for me."WHO THE HELL PUTS 'GOOD LUCK'ON AN INSTRUCTION MANUAL, FOR A SUBMARINE WITHOUT A PROP!" I screamed. That's when I saw the shark, and I blacked out again.

I next found myself on sand. I quickly crawled out of the "submarine" reflecting that all the hamster-wheeling must be making me soft. So I staggered over to a nice-looking coconut tree with a hole in the bottom of it. I crawled into the cool, dark cave for a rest, and was about to drift off to sleep when I heard a large ssscrrrrttkkkk behind me. I turned around and saw a large, no not large, massive, no that doesn't cut it either, a BEHEMOTH sized crab claw, and a proportionally sized crab behind it! I ran yelling at the top of my voice, thinking for the entire 50 yards, "Don't faint, don't faint, don't faint." When I finally stopped I noticed a wide sandy path and remembering the saying, "All paths lead to Rome," I decided to see what the place was like.

To put it lightly, I was disappointed. On one side was a house that looked ready to crumble at the first high-wind warning. The other house was two stories high, the bottom was open so that it was more of a house on stilts. Above the entrance was a sign "Suwarrow Yacht Club", inside were two intimidating looking local guys, one was bigger but had less hair, the other was smaller (relatively speaking) and had more hair. I wisely snuck away to eat coconuts for the rest of the day.

That night there was a party on shore. The boys found me and asked me how I liked my new submarine. I told them my "little" driving dilemma. Kennan groaned, "Aawww" and Logan heartily slapped his forehead. Then they argued about what means of propultion to use, so I went and had myself another coconut. The next day, my submarine had the thumbs of some latex gloves sticking out of it, and on the back of the manual it said, "Stick legs it leg sleeves and kick to move," with a helpful diagram to go with it. Ever since then snorkeling has been great.

-Scurvy-

Going Carbon Neutral

Before I tell you why I haven't been writing, I would like to say that I am sorry for not keeping you all up to date, and now that I've gotten that out of the way let me tell you why.

It all started when about six weeks ago, (but who's really counting?), while I was inspecting our fresh food stores. Captn Fraingck walked up to me with the look he has when he's killing a fish, or the look he has when he means business, and said, "Scurvy, I think it's about time you earned your place on board". I looked at him suspiciously and said "wud'ya mean?" He beckoned me to come with him and took me to the engine room, where there was a hamster wheel attached to what I later found out was an electric generator. I caught on pretty quick, I looked at him incredulously, and was about to say,"you can't be serious!" when the door shut. I tried to open the door, but my paws were too slick from all the oil in there. I was thinking about going on strike, but I saw a note on the door saying, "If you do not work, I will keep all of your coconut supplies for my 5:00 punch". An image of my coconuts being turned into grog flashed in my mind and I hopped on that *&*()!!* hamster wheel and started running at a marathon-winning rate. Finally, a few days ago Captn Fraingck came in the engine room and said he thought I deserved my place onboard. I grumbled my way to a clean pair of underwear and slept off the day.

Now that you've heard my story, I ask that you please send multiple complaints about the captain's conduct with his crew.

-Scurvy-

Wounded but not Dead

You'd never believe a rat like me could fall in love like that. It only took one look, the wink of an eye and I was hooked. Maybe there is something in the air in Tahiti the smell of the gardenias plumeria and ylang-ylang mixed; a smell that raises your heart out of it's shell and leaves it prey to cupids arrows. Her name is Syphilis, Syli for short. I don't know where parents go to find names sometimes. We met at Mijo's place up in the hills overlooking the lagoon. There we chased each other in the ferns, and climbed trees to see the sunset on Moorea.

Every day the whole crew came for lunch. Sunday capt'n Fraingck said they would be going to Moorea the following day. Syli and I hid in their backpack; it was cuddly. we had a wonderful sail to Moorea. and I was so glad Syli loved the sea too. Moorea is really spectacular with its deep bays and tall jagged peaks. We stuffed ourselves with pineapples, new love under the new moon. We met capt'n Fraingck's daughters and their respective monsters who chased us all around the boat I even had to dive in the brine to escape that little Raimana. Roonui cornered Syli. she thought he was going to kill her but he kissed her on the nose instead.

The sail to Huahine was an overnight nightmare. Sily got seasick and puked all over my sleeping bag. It was with great relief that we entered the lagoon at dawn. We took of to the motu where they grow tons of melons. All we needed was to carve ourselves a house in a big water melon to be protected from the rain. there are lots of dogs on the motu so the cat population is in check. In fact there is nothing wrong with the place. When it came time to rejoin Silver Lining Sily panicked. She wouldn't go and begged me to stay but I couldn't abandon ship like that. You see I'm not a Melville kind of character.
But now I'm sailing away from my sweet love and I'm heart broken.

-Scurvy-

R.O.B.

It started out as another bad queasy day. I thought of my batch of coconuts on the back deck. To ease my seasickness, some nice cool coconut water sounded like just the ticket, and the fresh air probably wouldn't hurt either. The cabin was downright stuffy all closed up to keep the ocean out. Captain Fraingck let me borrow a cargo net he found on the reef to wrap around my coconut stash and keep them from rolling into the sea, so I scurried back there, and started gnawing on a nut at the top of the pile. Suddenly a huge rogue wave towered over me and came crashing down, everything on the back deck was awash in chaos, my bundle floated to port then to starboard as the boat recovered. I hung on for dear life, my bundle teatering on the edge of the rail, just my luck a second wave popped up from underneath lifting me and bundle up and over the rail and into the ocean! I cried for help but my cries were unheard. Luckily the bundle was tied on deck with a line that also tied all of Captn Fraingck's beachcombing treasures on deck. I clutched my coconut stem desperately as one by one, his treasures followed me into the sea. First the pretty bouy neckless he's making for Silver Lining, then the flying saucer radio antenna for finding fish, then his beat up bucket, a plethora of fishing floats and the bamboo pole for...well I don't know what the bamboo pole was for, but I guess you never know when you might need one, last a bunch of skeins of old just-in-case line. The main line holding us all together went so taught from the weight of it all, I was sure it would snap, and we'd be blown to sea. The nearest land was the atoll Fangataufa, the one where the French did above ground nuclear weapon testing, only rats allowed, but my worries about skin cancer would pale next to what I'd become after even a week there! And since it's a no sail zone, it could be centuries before anyone came ashore.

Somebody save me! Silver lining was flying, and so was all the stuff, I was getting whiplash at the end as we zigzagged between the big swells, and with each whip, I was doused for what seemed like hours under water, then coming up to spindrifts blinding my view. As I road to the top of one big crest, I could barely make out Silver Lining's top spreaders at eye level, rubbing the salt spray from my eyes, I saw Margo coming out on deck to toss an empty peach can into the water. She looked up and saw the string of Fraingck's junk trailing in the water, and she ran to the back deck to save us. We sailed down the face of the wave, and back up the next, I lost sight of her as Silver Lining sailed over the next peak, but when my coconuts and I were yanked over the same crest I was horrified to look down and see that she wasn't pulling the line in, but instead she'd grabbed the machete from the cockpit. Eyeing all that crap, a wicked grin spread across her face as she raised the machete high for a clean blow to the line. I squealed in terror, she hesitated, looked up towards the last bundle my bundle and squinting hard, I think she saw my tail waving in panic. Too slowly she lowered the machete, and before I was dunked again by the next whitecap, I heard her call in a resigned tone, "Logan your rat's drowning, and Fraingck, you better help him all your crap's in the water." I think I must have passed out then.

The next thing I remember I was waking up to Logan humming the "Hamster Dance" song, and pushing his index finger hard and rapidly into my chest. I must have coughed up a whole pint of seawater. Logan had told me that in his CPR class, they said the best music to match the human heart rate for CPR was the BeeGee's "Stayin'Alive" He's a smart kid, I guess he figured that since a rat's heart beats much faster, a different song was in order. At least he wasn't following Radio Lab's alternate suggestion of "Another One Bight's the Dust" which has the same beat as Stayin'Alive. After resuscitating me, he bundled me up and tucked me in with Kennan, who hasn't lifted his head from his books in days. I snuggled into Kennan's armpit, pressing my cold bare ears to his warm bare chest. He absently twirled my tail with his index finger as he read from his book aloud to me. All glowy and warm, I settled in for a nice long ratnap.

I think she's warming up to me, and Captain Fraingck owes me bigtime for saving all his stuff.

-Scurvy
No longer a Rat Over Board

Scurvy the Duffus

Once one climbs to the searing top of mount Duff he can rightfully claim the title of duffus. I shall now be called Scurvy the Duffus!

Monday morning after a night of squalls, thunder, and wind gusts, Capt'n Fraingck lifted up anchor and headed out. We sailed under Mount Duff and lined up for the north pass. But he chickened out and sailed into a little bay on Taravai north shore. There we spent the most uncomfortable night rolling like pigs in the mud.

On Tuesday Capt'n Fraingck lifted anchor and takes the boat further west zig-zaging between reefs like he knew where he is going. Well, I have to admit the night was not too rolly. The rain kept falling in sheets, in blankets, out of fire hoses, squirting thru the vents on to my bed.

Wednesday morning Capt'n Fraingck lifted anchor again and back tracked to the other side of Taravai. The entrance wasn't well marked. The map said it was too shallow, but Capt'n Fraingck heads strait for the reef. Big badaboum boum boum, we were inside the bay, and we were not going out of this one in a long time. It was high tide, on a gibbous moon, three days from the solstice. I was sure we'd be there till Christmas. We went ashore there were tons of coconuts , bread fruit, bananas and cassava. For the avocados and leachies we'd have to wait for Christmas.

Days passed slowly on Taravai, rain preceded more rain, and again rain, which is all good for the coconut trees. Every trip ashore I brought back a coconut.

Saturday Captain Fraingck lifted anchor and escaped from the reef of Taravai without a bump! Unbelievable, paradise lost! No avocados or leachies for Christmas! I know it's not a pretty sight when rats cry, my bedding will never dry at this rate.

As I type this email Mount Duff has sunk under the horizon and we are heading into an apocalyptic sunset. Echos of a rat's wails sail across the water.

-Scurvy-

Climbing to New Heights

I love backpacks! There are delicious tidbidts and crumbs floating around the bottom, you bounce gently along for awhile, then emerge for some amazing views. The other day, I saw Fraingck filling the backpack with water and snacks, so I hopped in for the ride, but this time when I peaked out, there was no ground beneath me. I think we were on top of the world - a bottomless world - blue above and blue below. And then I saw Silver Lining - a speck in the blue lagoon, and vertigo set in, my knees were a knocking to the rhythm of the tamure drums echoing up from the valley. To make matters worse, birds were flying upside down below us. This is a topsy turvey world riki tiki tea.

On our way home, we came across a hermit crab, climbing, I told him he should trade his shell in for a backpack, but he ignored me and kept climbing. He didn't need smart-aleck advice from a tourist rat. When the rain came down I realized he was looking for higher ground. Still a back pack can get pretty high if you pick the right pack animal. We got soaked alright even in the backpack. And this rain isn't Marquesian jacuzzi temperature, this rain comes straight from the winter slopes of the New Zealand ski resorts. No pineapple express, but a kiwi express. Hand over the sheepskin coat!

-Scurvy Rat

Surviving a Near Death Experience

When you think you have seen the worst of the sea... think again. The sea is unlimited in it's size, depth, appearances and motions. Who invented the phrase, "The rhythm of the sea." I'll barf in his shoes any day.

"Le mal de mer" is the most horrible condition. You wish you'd die from it!

Ohhh, I so wanted to die, quickly please! But no, I had to live with it like a zombie hurling every last bit of those coconuts. Disconnected, my brain slushed painfully in my skull, leaving me unable to move even a paw to wipe my nose. Living for hours with my tongue out, waiting in pain for my entrails to be expelled from my body. Convulsions sent blood rushing to my head leaving blood shot eyes as the blood-flow retreated. I moaned after each cramp. In its rush to get out first, my posterior (edited) fought other organs unknown to me before that day! "Ohhh please get the h_ _ _ out and let me die!"

In a near coma I laid in the trash can waiting for five days for somebody to dump the trash over-board. No-one was cleaning-up on this rig when the weather was rough. Five days later things calmed down. I was finally able to extract my self from my bath of rancid coconut puke and climb up on deck. We had entered the most magnificent lagoon with colors that made Amanu's pale in comparison. Crowned by a rainbow, I washed off the slime from my black coat. The cool rain dripping from the fisherman sail on my head rejuvenated my wits. At last I was Scurvy again.

-Scurvy-

The Willbury Twist

No doubt - Captn Fraingck is whacko.
Yesterday afternoon he puts out a second anchor. I thought for sure we would stay another couple weeks. This morning after his coffee and SSB radio routine, he puts the Travelin' Willberries full tilt "hop a round the room in your underwear" and pulls up the dinghy.

"fall on your ass, get back up"

What about me and Logan taking off for a week on the motu?

"put your teeth in a glass"

One anchor two anchors and go.

"Come on lets dance the willberry twist"

Now he sends the jib and the staysail flying.

"there ain't nothing quite like this it's the willberry twist"

Doesn't he know this lagoon is peppered with coral heads.

-Hey Mo look at the Google is their any thing ahead?
-a head to port
-Can't see it, Ho yes here it goes by!
-How can you see anything in this rain?

On and on for two hours and then the pass - much calmer this time. All the kids from the village are here waving good by. The night has come we are sailing with the southern cross to starboard and the Scorpio is going to be run over if he doesn't get the Fraingck-out.

-Scurvy

Motu Logan

The other day Logan packed a bag of stuff like he was going to survive in the wild, and I figured he was going to go to another motu, so I tagged along for the coconuts.
Scurvy Visits Motu Logan

When we got there he started to clear out some of the low hanging fronds while I scurried up the nearest coconut tree to watch the show. After awhile Logan stopped and watched as a bunch of large hermit crabs started lumbering out from under an old frond. He looked across to see the same thing happening to the fronds around us, he looked creeped-out by this but you won't see me get scared by a couple of crustations.

Just as Logan was finishing putting up the hammock the rest of the crew came to check out our motu and then they left. Then we went to get some snails to eat but there were a lot of sharks on the reef so we decided to try to spear something instead. That was when I saw a grouper,I decided that this was my time,this was my opportunity to show Logan that I was good for something other than eating coconuts. I bypassed my urge to stay out of the water and leaped in,the fight was short but tough, I got out of the water with the fish in my jaws. I shook myself off and received Logan's compliments with pleasure. Logan tried catching an octopus but it was obviously more clever than him. I offered to go and get it but he said it could easily pin me under water. It just goes to show you how ignorant HE is.

When we got back Logan tried to start a fire to dry me off and cook the fish but our flint wasn't working so Logan called Captn Fraingck on the hand held radio. Captn Fraingck came with a lighter but it was out of fuel so Captn Fraingck dipped this stringy bark stuff in gasoline from the outboard and tried to light it with that but it wasn't working until...FOOP! I haven't seen gasoline consumed at that rate since I hitched a ride to downtown L.A. on the tail pipe of a Hummer but that's another story.

After dinner I went to my coconut tree and Logan went to his hammock to sleep. A couple hours later I woke up to the thump of a fallen coconut and scurried down my tree in anticipation, when I found my loot I chewed a hole in it and drank the contents. It tasted a bit odd but I'm not one to complain. After that I squeezed inside it and ate the meat. When I was done I poked my head out and saw that the hermit crabs were coming tentatively forward so I decided to high-tail it out of there, but when I tried to get further than my front legs I found I couldn't...that's right I ate so much I could not get past my bloated gut. So I rolled the coconut hole-down and went to sleep.

The first thing I heard the next morning was Logan playing his ukelele. I had a bad hangover,I wondered why. When I tried to get out of my coconut I found I was still stuck. I also found the reason for my illness,the coconut I had was old and fermented. As it hit me, I looked up to see Logan raise a nice green coconut to his lips, it was too much for me and I hurled. Now that most of my insides had left me, I found that I could get out and I crawled next to him as he jovially played his instrument.

"How can you play that thing so happily after such a bad night?",I asked.
He looked at the island before responding,"Sometimes it's good to know you're still alive".

Captn Fraingck came a little bit later and invited us for crepes. We haven't been back to Motu Logan since.

-Scurvy-

EIGHTY-TWO HOURS IN HELL!

I met some very nice rats in the ruins of the valley of Hatiheu. They told me of the ancient time, when there was plenty of leftovers to go around. Those rats stayed on their sacred ground longing for the old days. There are still mangoes, bread-fruits and coconuts enough for all, but they hadn't had a pig roast in a long time. There are still a few human bones to chew - but the flesh is long gone.

BEH BEH BEH!!!!!! Those goats drove me nuts all day from morning to night they BEHHHH. In the evening they climbed a rock spire so they could sleep closest to the statue of the Virgin Mary. Scaredy goats! Then we pulled up anchor for:

EIGHTY TWO HOURS IN HELL!

Or was it purgatory? Slam-Bam Slam bam bam slam bam slam slam bam etcetera...540 nautical miles of it! Can't they slow that boat down a bit? But then we sailed in the lee of this magnificent island; white sandy beaches forever, and coconut trees forever – no mountains, no goats. You can sail around and around 'cause the island is all round. Then we got into an inner lagoon thru a furious pass with currents raging creating whirlpools and rapids. Some kids ashore laughed, waved and shouted at us, "Goodbye! you're being flushed down a giant toilet you turds!" Well I don’t actually speak Puamotu, but I’d bet money that’s what they were saying.

We survived thanks to Capt'n Fraingck's skills. Margo says it was dumb luck. After anchoring south of the village, it was a bumpy night. The wind kept blowing squall after squall on us. In the morning we left our little piece of protective reef for the other side of the lagoon where a giant reef provided better protection. I was the first ashore and I stuffed myself with delicious coconuts, but there are some serious holes under those coconut trees. I'm not sure what mined such caverns - anyway, I won't be here at night to find out who the diggers are.

Good bye from a little rat in paradise.

~Scurvy~ 

Scurvy's Aglow

No way was I going to leave board today! We are anchored in the valley of Taipivai. I don't know if you read Herman Melville's Typee? I did! The habitants of this valley are cannibals!
Why should I care, I'm a rat? Better safe than sorry we say. So they went for a stroll in a cannibal infested valley, and they came back smiling. Nothing more. They are cannibals that is the only explanation! After their “walk” they went for dessert on Capaz along with the crew of Totem. Those little towheads must be cannibals too. I climbed up the rig to observe them better and they where all slurping from the same bowl. Yuck!

The sun fell behind the mountain the sky filled with blood. I was scared and lonely up in the rigging. A hatchet of a moon fell behind the mountain and the bay lit-up in a glow. Fluorescent sharks where swimming around the boat. Manta rays swam in spirals, their great wings aglow with every flap. Fish jetted like laser darts away from the giant predators, and after their own prey.
A psychedelic show below me.

I was tripin'!

-Scurvy-

Alive and Well

I had a great time on Tahuata, very nice people there. I was invited to give a "tooth" to a bunch of local rats at carving a bone. We made a scary sacrificing dagger out of a human femur our friend Pua oviri (wild boar) dug up from the cemetery. it was super scary and we left it on the altar of the Marae in Hapatoni (google it).

After That I got a tattoo bracelet around my tail. I wanted to have something small enough so that my mom wouldn't find out when I got home. This is the first step in my mana acquiring endeavor. Next I'm thinking of a spiral around my belly button. We then went to Nuku Hiva and the kids on board strapped me in a hammock ‘cause the crossing was ruff. I get along good with the two youngsters. We are the three before the mast and no body gives us hell. On board we rule the ship from the forepeak.

In Anaho Bay, the kids had a huge birthday party on the beach - twenty munchkins running around totally gone native. That was cool until they dug up a pit and threw me in there. After that they threw crabs at me. I got pinched a bunch of time but like a gladiator I ruled the ring for a full hour killing sixteen crabs by biting off their abdomens.

At last Logan said it was enough, and took me back on board were he served me a mango.
On our way to Taiohae we where chased by a pod of porpoises and I mooned them from the aft port. That really pissed them off. They where jumping, spy hopping showing their teeth. Nothing they could do. My butt was stuck to the porthole like a periwinkle on the aquarium glass.

Nana
-Scurvy-

Scurvy on Madeleine

My crew have been spending so much time ashore on Fatu-hiva (ile Madeleine); I had to go check out what's under the cliffs - Back in the trash bag for a trip ashore. This island is covered with fruit trees, and I stuffed myself. From a pamplemousse tree I watched the yachties and locals play a game of extreme frisbee, very entertaining. I woke up under a full moon many noddies flying above the coconut trees. At sunrise lorikeets came squawking in my ears. Up by the cliffs tropic birds were circling. I was in contemplation of this beautiful nature ready to jump ship to live the life of Ratbinson, when I saw the Silver Lining leaving the anchorage.

Panic took me. They had talked of going to the other village on the island in a few days, but only a day had gone by. They sure change their minds fast. I jumped on a goat. Hanging between the horns I rode over the hills jumping over precipices, running along vertical cliff faces. The goat knew the way around the deep valleys and ridges. One ridge was over two thousand feet in the clouds under fern trees before we headed back down thru a forest of mango trees. Finally we found the Silver Lining crew and their friends swimming in a mountain stream. Back safe in the pack I found fresh baguettes limes and guavas, a little disappointing after the pie, but fresh warm baguettes are not bad and I heard Margo say guava has lots of antioxidants; after that sunburn I have to be extra careful.

-Scurvy-

Escape

So after a twenty day trip in the bilge and one afternoon at the head of the mast in the spinnaker sock, I was more than ready to jump ship. I sneaked in the trash-bag and made it to shore. There I was soon chased by a tribe of cannibal rats. I found refuge in a coconut tree. The tree had a metal sleeve around the trunk the cannibals couldn't get past it. Since I still had 5200 stuck to my paws from my trip in capt'n Fraingck's trash I had great traction. I made friends with a family of geckos. I ate coconuts and only coconuts for a week. I'm sick of them. I Had to escape my tree life. I saw Margo coming back from town with a heavy back-pack. She left the pack at the foot of my coconut-tree while she took a refreshing shower. I Jumped to the occasion and snuck in her pack. There was a pie in there, yo ho!
-"The pie rat life for me!"

The anchor is being hoisted, gotta go.
-Scurvy-

Flying High in the Spymaker

The day didn't start to well for me; remember I when to sleep in the trash can. well...
Margo found me there at 3:45.

-"haaa the filthy . -you go take a bath, brush your teeth, and go to bed . And no reading till all hours young man!!”

She reminded me my mother so much. I vent to wash up and to bed way down in the fore peak in the yellow bag that says “spy maker,” it must be Kennan’s and what a bag o wrinkles. Morning came and I heard capt'n Fraingck in a French I wouldn't repeat.
Next thing I know the bag opens and I went shooting up in the air fifty plus feet, to the top of the fore mast in my wrinkled up handkerchief. This was no joke - the rats at NASA are treated better. It took me good hour before I worked my pulse back down (and that's because I trained in yoga for years). The worst is that i was left up there all day. I got so sun burnt I look like one of the rats in a skin cancer experiment. At sun set the chute (Fraingck’s term for the spymaker) came down to deck. A pink rat was laying on deck next to a flying fish. they both looked fried but Logan picked up the rat and gave him a full aloe massage. What a guy.

Thanks Logan for saving my life.

Did I mention we caught up with that other boat.

So long - Scurvy Rat-

Skin Condition

I was Lounging on capt'n Fraingck's bed. It is really nice back there. Their is the best view of our tremendous wake. long curves of white foam down the swell. It felt like the time I was in Bodi Miller's back-pack, But that's another story. We are trolling two jigs that bounce along way back. The port one got hit by a sea monster right before my eyes it took a fraction of a second and it was gone. the crack of a whip a tail flash then hook, line and bungie vanished. they did catch a tuna with the other line and that was delicious.

Capt'n Fraingck surprised me on is bed last night after is watch. I thought he was going to make a bloody mess of me like he did the tuna. But no he was cool with it he said he talks to rats all the time, only usually they are blue. I jumped at the chance told him of my skin condition. He said it is called MickaelJacksonitis. You freak out at first sight of any germs, you turn white, you shimmy allover with little screams and when you try to run away you actually go backwards."That's exactly my symptoms". so he gave me a cure:

"- pick up all the hairs from the shower sump and the papers from the toilet's trash make your nest in the trash can sleep the night in there and "voila" you are cured".

-we will see in the morning, good night guys

-Scurvy Rat-

Scurvy Report

My life in the forepeak, where I reside, is getting difficult. We bounce around so much. The old grey mare is at a full gallop jumping over hedges. I have found refuge in Kennan's pile of clean underwear. He will never find me there, the little piglet. The Kids Have abandoned the forepeak, guess I scared ‘em good. At night when I'm not studying for my SAT, I'm scavenging the slop-bucket that they always leave full in the sink. When capt'n Fraingck sleeps his watch on deck, I check the navigation and do my E-mail. I Have to be careful with Margo, she is a light sleeper and comes to the navstation at anytime of the night to do her "writing". I have the feeling she hates rats.

Dammit here she comes!

-Scurvy Rat-

I Hate Water

I’ve hated water since I was a little rat. My dad threw me in the Venice canal, “swim or float,” he said. “It's good to know your a floater ! just don't get flushed!” Here it has been flush after flush for days my bladder can't give any more. I can't put my rats nose out on deck I would be swept over the side within seconds, shark bait, what a nightmare. I used to be a beautiful jet black color sun tanning on the roof of my building. These days I spend so much time in the dark bilges, that I'm turning as white as a lab rat. I will soon be glowing in the dark like a freak experiment. I couldn't sleep yesterday afternoon. They went at it for hours with their guitar and ukulele. I tell you what, first chance I get, I'm going to chew the strings short.

The wind is picking up they 're going to have to reduce sails . I hear the skipper swearing. Got to go.

-Scurvy Rat-

One Stowaway Rat Gone Rogue

Let me introduce my self: My name is Scurvy Rat and I 'm from Venice California. On New Years Eve I was collecting food on the docks off Marina Del Rey, when chased by two raccoons I took refuge on a boat. There was a party on board and all the humans were too drunk to see me sneak in - well except for a few kids who threw me some food under the table. I ate so much I passed out in a cupboard. When the engine woke me up my cupboard was locked closed. I was trapped, Shanghaied as we say. I managed to escape my cupboard the following night while the boat was anchored not too far from shore. I could have jumped ship then . But I 'm scared rat-scatless of water, so I went back inside. I lived under the kitchen sink for few days life was good and the food great. I figured we'd go back to the marina some day. I realized that we'd sailed south of the border when the radio blasted Mexican tunes. I don't speak the language and the Mexican rats i met in L.A. were a mean bunch. So I kept tight to my locker by day studying books by night. They have a school on board - that's so cool i can finally get my self an education.

Some one is coming I got to go hide.

-Scurvy Rat-