So, with our adventures in Philadelphia officially at an end, we were told that we wouldn't be sailing to New York after all, at least, not as we had planned. Yesterday we did a crew swap so that our barge would stay in Philadelphia, but we are sailing for New York. The new barge, mechanically, is superior, more ergonomic to operate and better suited to use in New York Harbor. The crew quarters, however, are cramped and run down from inattention and neglect by past crews, reminiscent of a Pakastani hospice in terms of atmosphere.
So, I haven't been writing much, being occupied with getting this new turd operational. It's possibly a diamond in the rough just now, but I feel more rough. After a marathon 36-hour session of cleaning, repairing a hundred tiny things, and diffidently suffering through a Coast Guard pass-through inspection, the barge was sent to sea a few hours ago, and I was sent to the Bedbug Inn, our local hostelry, so that tomorrow I can take my truck up to NY, and the tug doesn't have to suffer through having even more supercargo besides my tankerman Cowboy D, who is, appropriately enough, riding herd on the tug as they pass up to NYC.
In the meanwhile, my hands are on fire from disinfecting bulkheads, fittings, overhead and decks in the quarters, killing off mildew and months or years worth of unsavory human funk. Worse than my hands, however, are my parts, from 2 full days of running and stooping and lugging on deck in sweat-soaked clothes. I have an adult case of diaper rash like you wouldn't believe. My bits are glowing in the dark they're so red.