Tomorrow

Today I decided to use a different format for my blog posting.

Namely...PICTURE POST!! *alarms, sirens, claxons, etc.* Whoop whoop whoop whoop!! Also, woot!

(If you're curious as to what exactly happened "tomorrow," technically speaking what happened was we didn't have Internet access. But other stuff happened too. Here's a rundown, complete with pic-a-tures.)



This is the mighty vessel I find myself aboard: Chartwell is her name. You might not think that you could live for an extended period of time on it, but you'd be wrong. It's Hambone. There is a surprising amount of stuff packed in there - a small kitchen and den, the main bedroom and guest bathroom, a couple bunks, and two heads (that's boatspeak for bathroom). I hear that 9 people have stayed onboard at one time. It's great, although the ceilings are very low. The "hit my head" count is at 11, although only one of those really hurt and made me swear in my own language. (It also left a mark.)

Here are the cast of characters:



This is my Uncle Charles. He's such a good businessman, he needs two computers. I'd say that he looks like he could be in Hackers, but they're obviously not Macs, so that wouldn't work. He pilots the ship and the dinghy most of the time and does a darn good job of it.



This is my Aunt Molly and I standing in front of the skeletal remains of a sperm whale that died from ingesting a plastic bag. Way to go, stupid whale. Loser. Molly is the crazy aunt that sends me weird postcards and news articles when I'm at school and makes art from things she finds on beaches and in dumpsters. I'd call her my weird aunt, but that term really doesn't carry a lot of weight in this family. She's been sailing forever and her sailing knots kick my sailing knots all around the harbor.



This is the real captain of the ship. Paca is a 13-year-old Weimaraner who believes that she's the captain, we're the crew, and our job is to take her to interesting places. Despite her being a dog, this is pretty much true. Sometimes she acts like a bossy old lady and she's mostly deaf, but she's still a lot of fun. I talk to her and it makes me laugh. She also farts a lot. And it smells.



If she uses you as a pillow, it means you're in.



This is what greeted me upon arrival. The Staniel Cay Yacht Club is vastly overnamed, I'll just say that. You're pretty much looking at it. Nice place though.



This is the aforementioned sandbar that was only three feet deep. The island behind me was the closest piece of land. It was very...cool. (Man, I'm writing well today. Guess I can only be poetic once a trip.)



When people clean fish, the fish guts have to go somewhere. For good times and great entertainment, you can dump the guts in the water near the dock and have a party with these awesome guys. Hey, we have satellite, but we only get about three channels. This is about the most exciting thing we do around here.



I fly thousands of miles away from rural Illinois and I still can't get away from the farm animals. These are wild pigs that live on one of the islands. People bring stuff in their dinghys to feed them, so they're used to people. Here I'm feeding them bread. When they know you have stuff, they group up and run at you. It's actually really freaky. Strangely, someone left a bunch of cats on the same island, expecting them to survive. But they're not as fun to feed because cats are evil.



Here I am in Exhuma Park, an obviously beautiful place. Note the awesome new hat and sunglasses by Target. I live large, you all know that. Our days are filled with snorkel expeditions, beach visits, and not too much else. It's wonderfully relaxing...



EXCEPT WHEN A FOREST FIRE BREAKS OUT ON THE ISLAND!! Good Lord. It was Saturday and we were just sitting down to lunch when we saw plumes of black smoke coming from the south end of the island we were anchored off of. So we called it in to the Ranger Station and they said they weren't burning anything (they sometimes burn garbage), so we took the dinghy around to check it out...



...and were promptly put to work as volunteer firefighters. (That's me in the back, pulling hose. And no, that's not a euphemism.) While I pulled the hose and tended the pump, other people were bringing buckets of water and using shovels to make a firebreak. I mean, it's not like the Rangers were unprepared or anything - no, they had a few guys, a boat, a pump, and a not long enough hose with no nozzle. Totally ready for any disaster. At any rate, they eventually put out the raging inferno and we were on our way to the next adventure.



Why ARE there so many songs about rainbows? I think it's 'cause they're so pretty.

I have a couple days left on the boat, then it's back to Ft. Lauderdale for a few days with my awesome cousins. Then back to boring old Illinois and some stupid wedding, I guess...

Speaking of stupid people and their weddings, how are my new Sufjan Stevens CDs, brother?