Do You Know the Way to the San Blas? Ta-Da-Da-Da-da-da-Ta-da-da

Mr. Bill

On one of our last trips the the ACE Hardware Store in St. Thomas, we were gifted with a small rubber duck for making a purchase over $X.00. Both of us were delighted for some reason. The clerk at the checkout counter and the nearby elderly security/greeter laughed at us, as she said, "More of the adults like the duck than the kids do."

Of course we don't need a rubber duck; we have no tub and he would easily get lost in the vast ocean, so we keep him on a safe perch down below. EW did allow him on deck for a photo opportunity today. It will be posted after we are at anchor. And of course, being the kind of people we are, we had to name the duck. For a few days we called him "Buck", a name neither of us were happy with. Once we started on this interesting part of our trip -- the 40 knot gust part with no auto-pilot -- that part -- EW suggested we change his name to "Mr. Bill", as in "Oh No! Mister Bill!"

So we did. Occasionally one or the other of us (usually EW) will pull poor Mr. Bill off his perch and shout, "Oh no, Mr. Bill!" before squashing his poor little head. It's a great stress reliever. Why do we need a stress reliever? Not because of any real discomfort, danger, or boat issues. This is definitely NOT another "Endurance Crossing" (read posts about our December passage from the Canaries to Guadalupe for that story, as well as the post written after we had recovered, entitled, "Endurance Crossing".) So we are "stressed" by boat bruises, spilling a full basket of fresh ground coffee, getting sprayed by large waves, and realizing that the motion of the boat definitely makes working on certain boat projects interesting, if not impossible. We have been hove-to for 36 hours, it's tedious, and we can only hope that the weather will abate tomorrow so that we an once again sail.

On the plus side, we have gotten caught up on our sleep and it's a well-needed rest; some of my boat bruises and all of the ground coffee spill can be attributed to fatigue. Mr. Bill has helped us maintain our sense of humor -- collectively and individually. It's the little things that amuse us. Yesterday I undertook a couple of house cleaning projects, sweeping and washing the sole (floor)was one necessary task I thought would be easily undertaken at sea. Not so much. I dimly remember an old cartoon of someone on a sailing ship swabbing the decks while trying to keep track of the bucket of water as it slid from port to starboard with each wave. It was like that. Only in my case my sweat soaked knees also slid along the sole, not exactly in time with the bucket. It became swab the sole, slide to port, grab the bucket. "Oh no, Mr. Bill!" Smash!

My parents would be appalled by some of my sailor swear words, and I'm thinking it may be time to clean up my act a bit. Do you think "Oh no, Mr. Bill!" would be a good substitute? It's sort of like those cockney rhymes. (Think about it. Some of you will understand that one.)

It's 1420 on June 16th. We are located at 15.06.71 North and 73.38.82 West. Our course is 311, and we are moving at 1.7 knots.


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