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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