Some of you have wondered aloud, or perhaps quietly amongst yourselves, what on earth do they do out there for days, no weeks, at a time? Even months at a stretch? So, whether your curiosity is piqued or not, here’s a short primer on how to divert oneself at sea.
First, since someone must always be at the helm, the variety and scope of dials and buttons and meters of every sort in the pilothouse can provide some modest form of entertainment. If, for example, you wish to decipher the wind gauge readings, you need to learn to differentiate between true wind angle and apparent wind angle. Captain Bill can wile away hours on end studying manuals on everything from stabilizer settings to provide the optimum calming effect in rough seas to the care and maintenance of the water maker. On occasion, he is also diverted by golf tournaments on TV or World Series of Poker reruns.
One day we had some innocent fun off the coast of New Jersey as we motored north. A beautiful day, if slightly hazy, with mild temperatures -- in the high 70’s, in fact. So the doors into the pilothouse are open to the breezes and slight salty tang in the air. We’re entertaining ourselves reading guide books about Rhode Island when several pesky little black flies decide to join us. No harm in a letting a little bit of nature in, so we ignore them. More arrive, and they begin to organize themselves into a regiment of tiny attackers. OK. Enough. They bite and sting and then dart into the safety of the salon. We counter with fly swatters and determination. They are small and sneaky, but we manage to get their attention by sending a number of their comrades to a watery grave…overboard.
They redouble their efforts, now attacking knees and ankles. Bill’s calves are especially alluring to the little biters, but we still have a slight edge, we think. In addition to the pair of swatters, we bring in the hand vacuum! Aha! As they are stunned by the flick of Bill’s wrist, he moves in to suction their tiny carcasses into the clear tank. Insect bodies swirl in the maelstrom of dust and crumbs.
Now I shift my efforts to the salon where a large contingent have fled to hide behind the mini-blinds. I carefully raise the blinds to reveal their hiding places and then: smack, smack, smack. Three for three! I can hear swats from the pilothouse, too, quickly followed by tiny bursts of suction. Another one bites the dust!
The game is on, and Captain Bill develops a new technique. No need for the fly swatter, as he adroitly wields the hand vac alone. Suction on, he creeps towards the little flier, patiently, patiently. Just when the winged intruder is confident of his safety, Bill strikes, sweeping the end of the vacuum over the fly who is swiftly sucked into the clear chamber. This method is particularly effective on flies who are themselves diverted by looking out the windows.
We did not win, but were mightily entertained for a short while on what would otherwise have been a very dull afternoon indeed. Of course, there are often times when other vessels in the neighborhood of Let’s Dance require our complete attention. For this we have trained and are up to the task!
As far as diversions go, we are perhaps too easily amused. But there are a lot of hours in the day, and days in the week, with just the two of us aboard, and sometimes any silly little thing that incites laughter is most welcome. We have books and logs and videos and charts and manuals and, always, we have music. Because, naturally, for diversion, sometimes you just gotta dance!
Let's Dance.....Carol & Bill
