ARC WEB DIARY DAY 9 - DECEMBER 5th, 2007

Ladyliv
Thu 6 Dec 2007 15:36

ARC DIARY - DAY 9 - DECEMBER 5TH 2007.

>From position 20:17N and 35:19W.

Let me tell you a shaggy dog story. You may think me barking mad, but
things have been a little ruff of late. I'll paws for a moment to take
breathe.


If you haven't realized by now, the hairy crew of LL have been pressed
into dining on haute cuisine from monographed stainless steel dog bowls.

Haute cuisine it may be, but it somehow loses its edge, when across the
floor a fellow crew member has dispensed with the customary utensils, such
as knives, forks and spoons and is lapping insatiably, head and ears below
the horizon. This particular individual, who to save embarrassment shall
remain nameless, was not surprisingly suddenly struck down with severe
stomach cramps, which Doc correctly diagnosed as a mild attack of
distemper. But thats enough of rig tweaker Dave, onto higher things.

Greybeard Aldersen's sextant activity has gone to the dogs - no Sun, no
stars, no horizons, no lampposts - any excuse will do!

Whispering Wolfie Smith has a sore throat - well he complained to Doc
that he was feeling a little Husky, but we couldn't find the mutt
anywhere.

Capt Bob was again at the forefront with his angling skills reeling in a
couple of monsters from the deep in quick succession. One was about the
size of a stickleback and was released without charge. The other was a
magnificent beast that nobody could identify. Email suggested it might be
a parrot fish, but this seemed unlikely since the nearest coral was some
1500 miles away. Wolfie thought it might be a dog fish, but again the rest
of the crew had some reservations. In any case, nobody could confirm
whether or not it was edible, so with some reluctance it was also sent
back to the deep.

Todays major event, during a rather protracted 'calm' spell was the annual
ARC mid Atlantic rope knotting master class, during which Rosie perfected
a new and revolutionary seafaring special which he christened "the slip
bowline". I see this as a knot of the future for all mariners, however,
unexplicably, we seem to be losing a rather high number of articles
overboard, which have been securely fastened to the handrails.

E-mail still amazes with culinary delights and with some more intensive
training in the repartee and humour department, is hopeful of being
allowed to assume the status of honorary Englishman, following the usual
and traditional induction ceremony. This is, of course, a highly secret
ceremony, the details of which I am not allowed to divulge - suffice to
say the indoctrainee feels very little pain, which is eased considerably
by the liberal use of muscle relaxants.