Yo-ho, yo-ho, and all that jazz

The trip to Erie went without any major glitches, I started out and drove the first 111 miles (which is just an awesome number, so I feel the need to record it), then Dad took over and drive the rest of the way. It was rainy and foggy and downright nasty a few times, but we made pretty good time.

The only catastrophe being that I remembered, in a blinding flash of clarity that I had done the unforgivable and left my ditty bag at home. Now, I am still puzzling over how I managed to leave probably one of the mot important items for sailing AT HOME. My rig! I feel completely naked without it. Thankfully I have a wonderful and patient father, who will find the said ditty bag containing my precious tools and rig, and send it to me asap when he gets home. He's awesome. He should go make some cookies for himself to celebrate his awesomeness. And then, y'know, maybe share some, thereby making himself even more awesome. He also doesn't read this blog. But I'm sure Mommy dear will let him know what I said (won't you, Mommy dear? Thanks. And you're awesome too.)

Anyway. We got to Erie with no other devastating events, and stopped by the Niagara just to say hi for a little bit, then crashed in the hotel room. I didn't get much sleep. But I suppose I need to get used to that anyway.

So, today I showed up around 0730, had breakfast, muster, etc. and went to sanding, tacking down and painting. Funfunfun. Then I got sent aloft to the crosstrees to…..TAR THE SHROUDS! Wheee! What that means is climbing up to the highest platform (which is just an open square, really) with a dish detergent bottle full of (and covered with) tar (runny stuff, it’s a mixture of tar, black paint and linseed oil) and squirting that tar solution over the shrouds and then spreading it around on them with your hands. You can use a rag, but I was wearing rubber gloves, so I just used my hands. Then my gloves tore (they were the thin throwaway ones), and lunch was called so I was in a hurry and just used my hands and used the rag to wrap the gloves in and put in my pocket so the inside wouldn’t get all gross. My clothes were, obviously, plenty smeared with tar though, which looks like heck but smells quite good.
After that I was painting next to Paul (I know him from last year, good guy, amazing musician).
“Oh, something smells good.” *looks over* “Oh, it’s your boobs.”
Because (being a girl) leaning against the shrouds to keep from falling to my death the, erm, parts of me that protrude the most got the most tar.
I also helped with pulling the flying jibboom out to where it’s supposed to be (the uprig you may remember me complaining about last summer, same deal).
After work there was a party at a local amusement park for a girl’s graduation. I don’t know exactly how she’s connected with the ship, but I heard she’ll be sailing with us at some point this summer. I don’t know if she’s sailed with Niagara before though. I’d never met her before tonight, but it was exceedingly nice of her to invite the entire crew.
At any rate, we went, and I rode a roller coaster. And didn’t die, which I was glad about. I hope you are too.

And now, here I be. Sitting in the hallway, glad to have internet access and my own computer.