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My big pirate story
Aug. 28th, 2003 11:36 amI don't really know where to start. I wrote all these fragments while underway, but somehow the lack of timelyness makes me reluctant to finish/post those thoughts.
It goes without saying that I am drunk. On a bender. Started at the houston airport yesterday around one. Made a bunch of phonecalls last night that I would probably regret making if I remembered what I was ranting about. I am completely overwhelmed with all that I need to do in the MONTH I have to spend on land. Gotta get myself some wheels. Gotta go down to merry-land to work on the old boat for a couple of days, pick up an old scooter I got in storage down there. Gotta get laid. Gotta tell y'all about pirates and stowaways in eastern africa.
I guess I'll toss y'all a bone and tell you, albeit without any equivication or mental reservation, about the pirates.
It was about two days out of Djibouti (on the way in) and I was burning the garbage up on the barge. When the barge is "heavy" we have about fifteen feet of freeboard. So I'm burning garbage in four 55 gallon drums. I take a great deal of pride in the small amount of ash I leave when I burn. Most of the guys on the boat will just toss garbage into the drums and then toss the trash over the rail once all the plastic from the bags has melted. I TEND to my trash. I douse it in deisel and paint thinner and oil. Anyway. We were in the red sea about two days outside of Djibouti, and I was burning.
All morning the captain had been calling down to me (on the VHF) about all these small fishing boats zipping about. Off the coast of Yemen. These dudes were fishing with nets in small fifteen foot boats. These dudes were packed in about five to a boat. Whenever one was cl,ose enough I would walk over to the rail and stand there all BadAss with a fire axe in my hand, untill they at least smiled and waved; I would wave back and go back to the burn station. And keep an eye on 'em. Anyhows. There was one boat that had about ten or twelve dudes who neither smiled or waved. They made an approach way up on the bow, and ran the length of the barge down to the burn station about five-six feet off of the hull. All standing up and holding onto line. It looked like they were going to try to board us. Now, most ships will have at least a shotgun onboard, but my ship has nothing in the "weapons" department. SO. So I grabbed a five gallon bucket of deisel and the propane torch and stood by the rail.
When they got close to me I could see anger in their eyes and they started gibbering and Jabbering at me and I stuck my hand into the bucket of deisel and flicked drops down on them. And brandished the torch. And then? there was some discussion on the small boat, and then they made obscene gestures and motored off...
And the sick thing is that I really would have burned every last one of the fuckers. IK would have swung the fire axe until it broke. Until they killed me. I really would have.
Anyway. I'll tell y'all more when I can focus. It's good to be home.
Fuck. My boat ain't my home no more. Queer ain't it?
It goes without saying that I am drunk. On a bender. Started at the houston airport yesterday around one. Made a bunch of phonecalls last night that I would probably regret making if I remembered what I was ranting about. I am completely overwhelmed with all that I need to do in the MONTH I have to spend on land. Gotta get myself some wheels. Gotta go down to merry-land to work on the old boat for a couple of days, pick up an old scooter I got in storage down there. Gotta get laid. Gotta tell y'all about pirates and stowaways in eastern africa.
I guess I'll toss y'all a bone and tell you, albeit without any equivication or mental reservation, about the pirates.
It was about two days out of Djibouti (on the way in) and I was burning the garbage up on the barge. When the barge is "heavy" we have about fifteen feet of freeboard. So I'm burning garbage in four 55 gallon drums. I take a great deal of pride in the small amount of ash I leave when I burn. Most of the guys on the boat will just toss garbage into the drums and then toss the trash over the rail once all the plastic from the bags has melted. I TEND to my trash. I douse it in deisel and paint thinner and oil. Anyway. We were in the red sea about two days outside of Djibouti, and I was burning.
All morning the captain had been calling down to me (on the VHF) about all these small fishing boats zipping about. Off the coast of Yemen. These dudes were fishing with nets in small fifteen foot boats. These dudes were packed in about five to a boat. Whenever one was cl,ose enough I would walk over to the rail and stand there all BadAss with a fire axe in my hand, untill they at least smiled and waved; I would wave back and go back to the burn station. And keep an eye on 'em. Anyhows. There was one boat that had about ten or twelve dudes who neither smiled or waved. They made an approach way up on the bow, and ran the length of the barge down to the burn station about five-six feet off of the hull. All standing up and holding onto line. It looked like they were going to try to board us. Now, most ships will have at least a shotgun onboard, but my ship has nothing in the "weapons" department. SO. So I grabbed a five gallon bucket of deisel and the propane torch and stood by the rail.
When they got close to me I could see anger in their eyes and they started gibbering and Jabbering at me and I stuck my hand into the bucket of deisel and flicked drops down on them. And brandished the torch. And then? there was some discussion on the small boat, and then they made obscene gestures and motored off...
And the sick thing is that I really would have burned every last one of the fuckers. IK would have swung the fire axe until it broke. Until they killed me. I really would have.
Anyway. I'll tell y'all more when I can focus. It's good to be home.
Fuck. My boat ain't my home no more. Queer ain't it?
