The Secret Of My Success

The Secret Of My Success

Almost all the epic bowmen I know are daredevils.  Who party as hard (or harder) than they sail.  I am not an epic bowman, and my epic partying days are a blurry memory, partly from age... and partly from epic partying.

Yesterdays Adventures Before The Mast did not go smoothly.  The guy working the bridge was the kindest.  He said, "I thought you did great.  Some of those foulups were so enormous, I wasn't sure that anybody could fix them, but you got them squared away." Charitably, he did not mention that several (not all) of the foulups were of my own devising.

Between the psychic and physical pain, I imbibed a fair bit more than my usual tipple last night, so I would look and feel my very best the next morning, per Arlo Guthrie.

It appeared to work.  I had a flawless day on the bitingly, wretchedly cold and wet foredeck.  Did I mention it was cold?  It was.  All it lacked was ice and sleet.

Unfortunately, the afterguard apparently did not drink enough last night, and had every bit as terrible a day as I did, yesterday.  However, there were more of them to distribute the blame amongst, and I was too busy to properly gawk and comment on their misadventures.

We were all grateful to get back to the land of Hot.  Hot showers, hot coffee, and hot BBQ and hushpuppies.  More rum cake for dessert.

When I repack the seabag, ALL my winter gear is going back in, and is not coming out until July.  Or ever.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dkq3FfN-4m8

Comments

  1. More rum cake for dessert.

    Words to live by. It would probably sound great in Latin.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Magis rum ad libum citreum. Sounds magical.

    ReplyDelete

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