Musings from a Fatigued Mind July 11

There have been some questions concerning a couple of things. One is why I don't have a nickname. Truthfully, I'm not sure. I have overheard the guys talking about that same subject and here are a couple of names I've heard them toss about. "Nice Guy", The helpful one", "Mr. Sunshine" and "The Most Interesting Man in the World". I don't know what they'll settle on but I'm sure it will be along those lines. The item of interest is about the mysterious smell. No, we haven't located it yet. In fact we've taken an entirely different approach to the problem. We have cultivated numerous other sights to nurture more and different smells. This has the advantage of being easier and was inevitable anyway. We now have different environmental zones with separate and unique stinks. They are fore peak known as the science project, the main salon know as the tumbler, the afterberth with a sub zone known as the Hobbit hole and the head which needs no other descriptor. Except for the head, they all share the strong undercurrent of rotten socks. This is a pervasive odor and underscores any nuances created by unique stink sources. The flavor in the science project is kind of sweet and tangy, my personal opinion is there could be some personal food going rotten up there as that is where everyone's gear is stored. Its hard to tell what personal stashes people brought aboard, but I bet there'll be some surprises in a few Hawaiian hotel rooms. The main salon has two bunks, the nav station and the galley. The bunks contribute unwashed body funk odor, the galley with the trash container,stove,sink and refrigerator gives off an earthy kind of cooked food/trash can odor and the nav station is odor neutral, well, maybe a slight nervous sweat smell from the naviguesser at work. The afterberth/Hobbit hole is pure no air circulation fetid body odor. Its dark and humid God knows what is thriving in there. They weather is warming and getting more humid so its only going to get riper. Then there's the head.

Imagine too rough to go to the rail to pee. This means we have to use the head. In these conditions just standing in the head is hard let alone trying to do your business. I don't think it dawns on any of to actually do the smart thing and sit so concentration and control are called for. I think most do the best they can but one person, no one will cop to it, is known as the water weasel. Maybe you're old enough to remember that toy that attached to the end of a garden hose and chased you around the yard spaying water everywhere? Anyway, Andy "Boy scout" Clark is amazingly nice and stays on top of keeping the head under control. Even so it contributes a fair amount of stench to the overall cacophony of smells in this place we call home. I truly believe a small dog could live a full and happy life just on the rich atmosphere we've created.

So we're wallowing along in light trades trying outsmart our competition and move from second place to first by the time we finish at Diamond Head. We're half way and I like our chances.

Oh, a sailor's life for me.

John