Hairy-Chested Romance

The title of this blog comes from a dear friend of mine, who has not only walked in my nautical footsteps, but was in many cases one of the first women to do so. I have yet to find a better phrase to sum up the profound sense of nostalgia, beauty and tradition that seems to inform the thoughts and actions of so many of the people who are drawn to schooners.

So last night I was hanging with my mom at a church mother-daughter banquet when they had a unique parlor game. Our table won, through no help from me. The game was a purse scavenger hunt. We were required to produce such items as grocery recipts, childrens toys and dental floss from our purses. I contributed nothing, though if the list had been a little different, I would have kicked some serious butt.

Things I carry around with me:

1. Folding Benchmade knife
2. Steri-Strip skin closures
3. Super glue
4. Sandpaper (left in my pocket from bowsprit sanding duties, transferred to purse later)
5. CPR certification
6. String
7. Digital camera
8. Duct tape wallet

I've never been overly girly, but between my lack of purse contributions and my paint stained hands, I felt singularly foriegn among the perfumed pink church ladies. I can't say I didn't enjoy it.

In a similarly romantic vein, here's an old song about sailing:

Farewell to Princes' landing stage River Mersey fare thee well

I am bound for California, a place I know right well

So fare thee well my own true love

When I return united we will be

It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me

But my darling when I think of thee

I have sailed with Burgess once before, I think I know him well

If a man's a sailor he will get along, if not then he's sure in hell

So fare thee well my own true love

When I return united we will be

It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me

But my darling when I think of thee

Farewell to Lower Frederick Street, Anson Terrace and Park Lane

I am bound away for to leave you and I'll never see you again

So fare thee well my own true love

When I return united we will be

It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me

But my darling when I think of thee

I am bound for California by way of stormy Cape Horn

And I will write to thee a letter, love, when I am homeward bound

So fare thee well my own true love

When I return united we will be

It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me

But my darling when I think of thee

I've shipped on a Yankee clipper ship, "Davy Crockett" is her name

And Burgess is the captain of her and they say that she's a floating hell

So fare thee well my own true love

When I return united we will be

It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me

But my darling when I think of thee