One of the downsides to my piracy career is that often I miss a season, or get very little of it. Such is the case with this summer. I've three weeks now and then it's over for me. With motivation like that, I woke LP early yesterday. Fed her a hearty breakfast, dressed her warm and off we went for an early morning fish. We started on one of our favorite streams to hike. It has a wooden boardwalk on both sides, as it winds lazily through a slough, into the big canal that divides the two biggest towns in this area. Its also dotted with several fishing stations and benches along the way, but in the end, despite the beauty of the river and the comfort of the boardwalk, it remains a fall salmon river only, unless you hike way up into the headwaters to hunt for brookies.
We left and hit another favorite spot, this time a favorite for fishing. A small, wooded point on the canal, it's right in town, but nearly always deserted and boasts a 24 ft drop-off. We drifted worms and pieces of hotdog, but the wind and current were against us. Hiking back to the car, LP found a nice piece of float copper. After a quick lunch, we next fished a long, wooden dock on the canal right in front of Mr. Budd's house. LP had all the luck and I had a wonderful time watching her.
Instead of going home in the afternoon, LP wanted to go four-wheeling. We drove out into the bush and I gave LP the wheel. She loves to drive and especially in the mud. She drove us all over the woods, finding every single mud bog in the forest. We also stopped at our favorite wilderness lakes, saw a timberdoodle, deer and some ducks. After LP took a year, or two off the life of the truck, we limped home and I stayed pretty close to the couch for the rest of the evening.
Finally, that other summer tradition, ticks. Got a big, hairy bastard trying to suck me dry right through my kneecap. Smothered him in vasoline and scraped him off a few minutes later. Ticks.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
The trip home
Almost home. I've made it to Atlanta. It's been 50 hours since I left my ship, since I slept. The trip started out badly when my backpack and laptop got soaked during the jet boat ride over to the supply ship. I didn't find out until the next morning, as it was only wet on the bottom, but during the night it soaked up through everything. I emptied my bag and laid everything out at the entrance to the engine room, where 120-degree air constantly blows up from a stairwell, and it all dried pretty quickly. This is the first time I've powered up the laptop and it works (knock wood). The ride into Luanda, Angola took about 20 hours. Spent most of the time reading, watching movies or bullshitting with a guy from one of the other boats in the operation. I haven't seen him since we worked together up in Alaska a few years ago, which coincidentally, was the start of my original blog, Life of a Pirate.
I should note that on that ship we live in a metal box, or container, strapped down on the back deck. From living in the box, we moved into the cage on the dock in Luanda. This time we literally walked in and right back out of the cage, which was a treat. Any day not in the cage is a good one. We took a bus up the bluff to the airport. Our driver was obviously paid by the mile. our navigators reckoned we drove a star pattern, taking us to each corner of the city along the way.
Our handlers efficiently shuffled us through to ticketing and then promptly split. Running the gauntlet of security, customs, immigration and the Quanza Man (TM) is simply a major fucking drag. Everyone you encounter except the Quanza Man (TM) likes to stare at you and do nothing. Just stare. I think they look for a reaction to see if you're running late, then they stare longer while you sweat and fidget. I smile a lot and try hard to fart. That is usually a very effective buzzkill that immediately gets you shuffled to the next official.
So, I farted at customs, passed gas at immigration and managed security without the need for flatulence and then had to face the Quanza Man (TM).
Quanza Man (TM) is unique in my experience and he has one of the best jobs in the world. He is paid to steal your money, if he can. Thats it. You have to enter his office and he tries to steal your money. I was out of gas by the time I got to his office and well, it doesn't work on him, anyway. You see, he wears a rubber glove to work. Yep. He'll find that cash even if you've keistered it. And this is what happens: Quanza man holds up a rubber-gloved finger and asks you if you have any Quanza (local currency). I say no. He asks again, wiggling the finger, looking for a sign of weakness. I say no, I work on a ship-no Quanza. Then he demands US dollars. I say I have none. He then demands all my money. I say no. He says give me your US dollars and I lean forward, say no and stare into his dead eyes. We stay locked like this for at least a full minute as he waits for me to break. I don't and he tells me to get out.
It happens this way every time I'm confronted by Quanza Man (TM). For others, it goes differently and mostly a bit tougher. He is, after all wearing a rubber glove and he's not afraid to use it. Mostly, he gets people to open their wallets, turn out their pockets, or open their carry-ons. If you're weak enough to agree, he'll take any currency he finds and stuff it in his pocket, unless you raise all holy hell. He's hard to stop once he sees your money, which is why I simply stare him down and say no to whatever he demands. This time he manged to get one guy to open a wallet that had at least ten different currencies and they spent some long minutes yelling about it. I tell you, I wish I had that fucker's job.
Anyway, I went to the bar, slammed 6 beers in 20 minutes and flew the fuck outta there. Had a couple hours layover in Johannesburg, South Africa. Hit the lounge for a while, then had a decent Malaysian curry with a couple of my shipmates from the Philippines. The flight from Jo'burg was 16 hours. Man, I hate those long ones. I start to question my sanity after about 12 hours and start talking to myself soon after that.
Atlanta is a decent airport, overlooking the long trek to the main terminal, and a place where you can smoke. Met a lot of soldiers. They are everywhere in here and it's simply impossible to say hello, welcome them back, or wish them luck and thank them for their service. It would be a full time job for like an army of people. Anyway, I thanked as many as I could while waiting in line for security and whatnot.
Now its off to my next flight and Minnie...only two more to go!
UPDATE: I'm home, recovering pretty well and heading out to see the new Harry Potter movie with all 3 of my kids!!
I should note that on that ship we live in a metal box, or container, strapped down on the back deck. From living in the box, we moved into the cage on the dock in Luanda. This time we literally walked in and right back out of the cage, which was a treat. Any day not in the cage is a good one. We took a bus up the bluff to the airport. Our driver was obviously paid by the mile. our navigators reckoned we drove a star pattern, taking us to each corner of the city along the way.
Our handlers efficiently shuffled us through to ticketing and then promptly split. Running the gauntlet of security, customs, immigration and the Quanza Man (TM) is simply a major fucking drag. Everyone you encounter except the Quanza Man (TM) likes to stare at you and do nothing. Just stare. I think they look for a reaction to see if you're running late, then they stare longer while you sweat and fidget. I smile a lot and try hard to fart. That is usually a very effective buzzkill that immediately gets you shuffled to the next official.
So, I farted at customs, passed gas at immigration and managed security without the need for flatulence and then had to face the Quanza Man (TM).
Quanza Man (TM) is unique in my experience and he has one of the best jobs in the world. He is paid to steal your money, if he can. Thats it. You have to enter his office and he tries to steal your money. I was out of gas by the time I got to his office and well, it doesn't work on him, anyway. You see, he wears a rubber glove to work. Yep. He'll find that cash even if you've keistered it. And this is what happens: Quanza man holds up a rubber-gloved finger and asks you if you have any Quanza (local currency). I say no. He asks again, wiggling the finger, looking for a sign of weakness. I say no, I work on a ship-no Quanza. Then he demands US dollars. I say I have none. He then demands all my money. I say no. He says give me your US dollars and I lean forward, say no and stare into his dead eyes. We stay locked like this for at least a full minute as he waits for me to break. I don't and he tells me to get out.
It happens this way every time I'm confronted by Quanza Man (TM). For others, it goes differently and mostly a bit tougher. He is, after all wearing a rubber glove and he's not afraid to use it. Mostly, he gets people to open their wallets, turn out their pockets, or open their carry-ons. If you're weak enough to agree, he'll take any currency he finds and stuff it in his pocket, unless you raise all holy hell. He's hard to stop once he sees your money, which is why I simply stare him down and say no to whatever he demands. This time he manged to get one guy to open a wallet that had at least ten different currencies and they spent some long minutes yelling about it. I tell you, I wish I had that fucker's job.
Anyway, I went to the bar, slammed 6 beers in 20 minutes and flew the fuck outta there. Had a couple hours layover in Johannesburg, South Africa. Hit the lounge for a while, then had a decent Malaysian curry with a couple of my shipmates from the Philippines. The flight from Jo'burg was 16 hours. Man, I hate those long ones. I start to question my sanity after about 12 hours and start talking to myself soon after that.
Atlanta is a decent airport, overlooking the long trek to the main terminal, and a place where you can smoke. Met a lot of soldiers. They are everywhere in here and it's simply impossible to say hello, welcome them back, or wish them luck and thank them for their service. It would be a full time job for like an army of people. Anyway, I thanked as many as I could while waiting in line for security and whatnot.
Now its off to my next flight and Minnie...only two more to go!
UPDATE: I'm home, recovering pretty well and heading out to see the new Harry Potter movie with all 3 of my kids!!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
In which I exit stage left
Up with the dawn patrol this morning. The sea was black as the sun popped up over the horizon. Managed to eat a few bites of breakfast and dutifully took my Malarone to ward of the evil malaria. I'm a little tired, but ready to get the hell off here in another 4 hours, or so. Stayed up kind of late last night doing laundry and watching a little British telly with the gun chief. We spent a few hours trading stories and talking about the old days in this business.
Anyway, the seas are calm, my supply ship's ETA is 1100 hrs. Jet boat is fueled up and we are ready to rock.
I'll see all you cats on the beach, Tuesday.
Anyway, the seas are calm, my supply ship's ETA is 1100 hrs. Jet boat is fueled up and we are ready to rock.
I'll see all you cats on the beach, Tuesday.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Web cam
So I'm sitting out here slightly bored, whiling away the last hour of my last full shift. I only have a short 5-6 hours to cover tomorrow morning, before crew-x. I'm surfing the web and come across a website in my bookmarks I haven't seen in a while and remember that it has a web cam only a mile or so from my house. Called up PW and LP and asked them to stop at the cam on their way into town. You can walk right up to this one. They did and I got to see them on the web cam:) Nice treat to be able to see them when I'm 12,000 miles away and hundreds of miles offshore. It also makes a nice wallpaper for the computer as I spend my last hours onboard. I guess I'll throw up an update tomorrow morning, but for now...time to sauna, do laundry, pack and try to catch a few hours sleep before the long journey home. You all have a great day, a wonderful weekend and if you happen to be in the Copper Country, I'll see you soon.
Flag Dispute
Found this to be interesting. According to my admittedly feeble knowledge of law and tradition and the principles this country was founded on, I think this veteran was within his rights and further has earned the right to signal his distress by flying his flag upside down, having offered his life to defend it.
It is, in some ways, a tough nut, in that we founded this country on the belief that people have the right to offend each other, but there it is. Living under the flag gives you the right to burn it in protest, if you're so inclined. It is exactly that basic freedom that makes us who we are as a nation and a people and not a bunch of poor schmucks living under a King, or much, much worse.
I think the Marinette County District Attorney might need to pull his head out of his ass, especially after citing that it's illegal to cause a disruption as any decent lawyer could tear his ass apart in court for trying to portray a difference of opinion as a disruption (I see no mention of people rioting in the streets over this). Whatever, it was an interesting story and not all that far from home, either.
It is, in some ways, a tough nut, in that we founded this country on the belief that people have the right to offend each other, but there it is. Living under the flag gives you the right to burn it in protest, if you're so inclined. It is exactly that basic freedom that makes us who we are as a nation and a people and not a bunch of poor schmucks living under a King, or much, much worse.
I think the Marinette County District Attorney might need to pull his head out of his ass, especially after citing that it's illegal to cause a disruption as any decent lawyer could tear his ass apart in court for trying to portray a difference of opinion as a disruption (I see no mention of people rioting in the streets over this). Whatever, it was an interesting story and not all that far from home, either.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Happy Birthday Nicky!
For those who find enjoyment in learning why things are, today is Nikola Tesla's Brithday! He was born in Serbia, contributed to the scientific world like few others, in the fields of electromagnetics, robotics, radar, nuclear physics, ballistics and many others. The SI unit of magnetic measure (actually the measure of magnetic flux density ), the Tesla, is named after him. My favorite Tesla fact is that he calculated the resonant frequency of the Earth (~8Hz). Happy b-day Nicky.
The distance from here to there
Crew-x is right around the corner, only 72 hours hence. Doing a bit of rough navigation, I've calculated the Great Circle routes home.
From Luanda, Angola
Latitude: 8° 50' 17" S
Longitude: 13° 14' 3" E
to Johannesburg, South Africa
Latitude: 26° 12' 0" S
Longitude: 28° 5' -1" E
That's 1,339 miles, or 2,480 Km.
Then northwest from there to Houghton, Mi
Latitude: 47° 7' 19" N
Longitude: 88° 34' 8" W
For another 8,750 miles, or 14,081 Km.
Adding up the two gives me a grand total commute of 10,089 miles, or 16,561 Km, as the crow flies.
This time around, I've got excellent flights and layovers which should put me at about 29 hours total flying time, plus a 24 hour boat ride into Luanda and half a day clearing customs and immigration. All in all, not a bad commute home as long as I can avoid rush hour traffic...
From Luanda, Angola
Latitude: 8° 50' 17" S
Longitude: 13° 14' 3" E
to Johannesburg, South Africa
Latitude: 26° 12' 0" S
Longitude: 28° 5' -1" E
That's 1,339 miles, or 2,480 Km.
Then northwest from there to Houghton, Mi
Latitude: 47° 7' 19" N
Longitude: 88° 34' 8" W
For another 8,750 miles, or 14,081 Km.
Adding up the two gives me a grand total commute of 10,089 miles, or 16,561 Km, as the crow flies.
This time around, I've got excellent flights and layovers which should put me at about 29 hours total flying time, plus a 24 hour boat ride into Luanda and half a day clearing customs and immigration. All in all, not a bad commute home as long as I can avoid rush hour traffic...
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Better to be pissed off than pissed on
Stunning news, just "leaked" to the public. Current energy suppliers will be "pissed", as demand for their contributions to the energy "stream" diminishes.
"Yer in" for some big changes when pee power hits the market, putting the oil and coal industries.... in the toilet.
"Yer in" for some big changes when pee power hits the market, putting the oil and coal industries.... in the toilet.
Kill them all
I think I might have possibly mentioned in the past that I get upset with the majority of fellow fliers not following the carry-on baggage rules and observing some sort of respect of others when loading their bags in the overhead bins. Well, if it takes big brother, then that's what it takes.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
And that's all she wrote, folks...
Just watched Nigeria kick the crap out of France in our first annual ping-pong tournament. Watching, I realized I'm not even on the same planet with these guys. It was hard to even follow the ball at times. It was an awesome game and fun to have most of the crew together to watch it happen. Back to work...
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