I drive-a- the boat-a

 OOF, I haven't had much experience handling pleasure boats. I knew, in theory, that they tend to be lightweight and with rudders too small to get the barn door effect that heavier hulls have.  

   I spent a day locally driving a 78' light yacht, one of those clorox jog hulled Euro fast foo-foo things that for all its' size can't do an ocean crossing for lack of ass, per order of the insurance company. 

   Ever see Rodney Dangerfield at the end of Caddyshack? 

 Anyhow, I'm not a yacht guy. If you switch which ass cheek you're leaning on more, the boat starts to swing to that direction but the hull porpoised about 3 degrees back and forth when on a stable course. Annoying.     

  It was fun though. After I finished screaming on the inside the first few minutes. I don't like looking like an asshole. I think I covered up that I was in full Weekend Warrior mode, like a dumbass, before settling into what I hoped was quiet competence. 

         Another funny thing I saw was that as a commercial guy, I was expected to be quiet and competent, moreso than the experienced yachties, as the actual captain was a yacht guy. So when I got a 'you move this thing like it's your daily driver,'   rather than gush and beam, as I wanted to on the inside, I nodded  a thank you and just said 'At some point a boat's a boat; this 'un don't drive like 'n office building on its' side like workboats."    (Author's note: I'm a tankerman. I don't do boathandling on our tugs to speak of unless I'm working over as crew on a tug which I only do about once a year). 

    It WAS nice to get behind the wheel of a boat. I don't do it enough. 

There's blood in my alcohol

 Good morning, and I hope you had a Merry Christmas. We did the Latin thing where you celebrate during Christmas Eve and open presents at midnight, then yesterday after waking up at about 9am,  I cooked a prime rib (my best one yet, too!) and ate and drank too much all day and into the night with family. 

       I think I better go back to work next week. My liver and guts need a break. 

Home alone and

 Time passes so fast, I've already been home for 6 days and it sure doesn't feel like it. Today's my first day with not a lot scheduled and Inappropriately Hot Foreign Wife at work. We've been glued together at the hip since I got home. 

 The medical BS continues. Had more testing, still more to do in January when I come home next time, which should be definitive. Don't feel like writing about it while I don't know exactly what's up just yet. 

          But that's an issue for Future Me to deal with. Today Me has enough shit to do already. 

 With Christmas just 2 days away, I'm pretty excited to have the time at home, and after what has been a fairly shitty year, the holidays this year have been really pleasant. The house is decorated well, although I didn't do the yard this year, which is usually a fun time and something I put a fair bit of effort into. Too much happening, something had to give time-wise, so I didn't light the yard up as I normally do.  I pulled a rib roast out of the freezer today, so we'll be having prime rib for Christmas dinner. We're doing Christmas Brazilian style too, which means that on Christmas Eve there's church to go to then late night food and presents opened at midnight before bed some time in the early AM. Christmas day I'll be cooking  a full dinner and my  sister, one of my brothers and nephew will come over- the Florida portion of my nuclear family. I expect a good time. 

       

   Speaking of good times, yesterday we drove to Fort Lauderdale to have lunch with friend, coworker and Youtuber TimBatSea  whose channel is doing well.  Tim and I have been friends for a lot of years, and both of us being goofy ex-New England commercial fishermen with a taste for tropical living and latin women, we've never run out of laughs and things to talk about, but this was the first time we had time to meet up outside of work, and unsurprisingly we had a great time at lunch. Our respective ladies hit it off nicely too, so yeah, it was a good day. 

     I hope everyone else has a Merry Christmas too, wherever you are. 

 

Lead-Foot Ahmoud Delivers

So I am at JFK airport in NY, and it's time to go home. 

       I'm crew changing out a day early, as I have a minor diagnostic medical procedure tomorrow. It was my only chance for an appointment... and honestly this is something that has been hanging over my head for a while, and tomorrow was the only opening left this year. So I get an extra day at home this time, which is nice. 

       Thursday was *supposed* to be the day I left for Brazil, there to spend 3 weeks with Inappropriately Hot Foreign Wife's family all the while the good ladies of the fam spend my money and wait on me hand and foot in my new fuckin' house...

       Instead my wife's mom is dead, the house is less than half- finished and I have a lawyer about to commit lawfare on the builder of my house  because instead of building it, he stole much of the building materials and no shit, built a house for himself WITH MY MATERIALS. 

    Yeah, so I'm not bitter or anything. 

       In the meanwhile, though, I may have set a new record for door-to-door time between the company office in Brooklyn and JFK airport out on the edge of Long Island. 

    Mahmoud my driver, in his Toyota minivan, got me there like his ass was on fire and his hair was catching. I never heard a minivan roar before. We didn't drift or anything, but thr dude's mommobile car had some ass today. We did at least a half dozen hole shots, going from 0-60 at Wide Open Throttle, which was surprisingly sporty... and Mahmoud, a short, portly amd swarthy fella, was channeling Mario Frigging Andretti. 

       It was a great drive. 

    There was a shit ton of disorganized yelling latinos at the poor people's security line. People of all ages, loud, generally rude. Absolute chaos. Maybe the tides of humanity are going home prior to the next inauguration? 

         Eh, I can dream.   

  The Precheck line was a breeze. Maybe 45 seconds of delay max, vs. what looked like 45 mins for the hoi polloi. 

     I'm ready to go home. 

Di-Reckly in the feels

 

    Well, one week to go before I head home for Christmas. Tonight was my night to get up early (at oh-oh-forty five in fact) as we go on dog watches for the day to switch from days to nights, as B takes over the role of first among equals here on the HQ- the day guy generally calls more of the shots, since he has to answer the phone and emails, leaving him more in tune with The Office. 

    So I am on nights for my last week- not as much fun this time of year, where nights are cold and more often than not annoyingly windy. 

 But, my point here is that in a week I go home for Christmas, and I'm pretty excited and grateful for that. 

       Yesterday, I bunkered a Pure Car/Truck Carrier anchored up in NY harbor with her sister ship- the two vessels have some work for a bit moving cars from Mexico to New Jersey. 

 The crew? Filipino unlicensed, Ukrainian officers. 

 As sometimes happens, the crew has been working hard and VERY busy for the past week, and time at anchor, even with bunkering operations, represents a slower pace for them, a chance to relax a bit, especially for guys off watch.  This made them gregarious, and as we were about eye to eye for much of the operation, I spoke to them just as much as they spoke to me. 

         Their stories are not easy stories. These are guys who can't go home. All of them are working to support their extended families, paying in some cases for them to relocate, to find new homes, or to access the black and gray markets for purchasing necessities.   When their contracts are up, they fly to Romania or Germany, there to take a weekend off and start finding another ship. Most have been working relatively nonstop for 2 1/2 years, with a week or two at most between ships.  The chief engineer, a hearty old timer, one of those guys who speaks with great authority but obviously well-liked by his crew and enormously skilled, has family missing and assumed dead.  He isn't the only one. 

               One of those things that hits home. I feel for these guys. I absolutely, Thank God, can't relate. Still, it was good I think for them to talk to a foreigner who was sympathetic, and it was pretty obvious that the 3rd and 4th assistant engineer, young kids in their early 20's, had a father-figure thing going on with the chief. 

    I didn't get one of those 'there but for the grace of God' moments, but sure as hell I was deeply moved by what they shared, which wasn't much. I wasn't going to push either, to draw them out, as their lives are not good at the moment, but hopefully it did them  individually some kind of good to find a willing ear.  I can't empathize. I am blessed not to have shared experience, and I am extremely grateful for that. 

            Makes me even more grateful that in a week I'll be with my family. 

         

Halfway day

 Wedbesday was halfway day, the halfway point of the present hitch on the HQ for me.  I came in a week early to get some pre-holidays OT but that don't count. 

          Presently we're loaded and waiting on slack water in about 3 more hours to sail from the terminal where we gassed up the HQ. 

 Halfway day is usually my day to wash out my fart sack (linens) and bath towel and start planning things to do when I go home. That's about it. Nothing special. 

   It's been an average week, though windy and cold. I'm mostly writing because I am anxious as I wait to hear from folks in Brazil and time is dragging ass at the moment. 

      Today is the 2nd of 2 arbitration sessions between our lawyer, our engineer, and the builder of my house in Brazil, who it seems has defrauded the ever-loving shit out of us. There's an insane story there, but today, right now in fact,  is the last shot at settling things without a civil trial and a criminal complaint being issued for fraud.  

         Whatever.  I took it in the seat from this trashbag. I will accept his head on my mantle in trade if he doesn't have a Come To Jesus moment.  I made it clear that I was willing to look on this as a tax that I paid for being a gullible dumbfuck and walk away at anything more than x cents on the dollar, x being a lot less than I want but which could be resolved in a matter of weeks. 

 If not... well I already got fucked.  I am perfectly willing to aacept a Pyrrhic victory if the guy wants a battle of attrition or tries to run the clock down. 

     But I will leave Brazil in Brazil for now. I've still got shit to do here. 

True story

 Taxed from the International Maritime Meme Organization on instagram.   Worth checking out.