susys running away to sea

"The rigors (sic) of an expeditionary lifestyle"

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Wednesday 16 August

Invited myself in for coffee on the fishing boat from Louisbourg, Rumbunkshus, behind us. They're waiting for a fisheries inspector to go out with them. They're after halibut. We talked over the stricter controls over fishing nowadays, and about sealing. Sealing is done on one, maybe two, days out of the year.

A bit later, the sun is out, I've swapped from sweater to strappy teeshirt, and we're casting off, and their big fat line is over our on the bollard. I need help.

"Hello?" I shout, leaning forward off the wharf towards their deckhouse. No-one in - which is a surprise - there are 6 crew after all.

I lean even further forward, trying to see further into the deckhouse. "Hello? Hello?" I shout. There are badly supressed laughs from the covered shelter aft, and I look across at six chaps having a good eyeful of the cleavage.


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