Alan Shemper: When I was at camp, my favorite activity was always arts and crafts. Or, as we used to call it: arts and *farts* and crafts. We used to make drawings... cave drawings! Which is my way of saying we were cave men. I went to camp so long ago, that I can remember saying "sticks and stones may break my bones" and meaning it! I went to camp so long ago that fucking Jesus Christ was my counselor! And my best friend hadn't fully evolved yet! His name was Ug and he walked on all fours! There were two epidemics when I went to camp: head lice, and the plague - the Bubonic plague!
12.01.2007
11.28.2007
Lost in Transit
My last few days in Toronto were a flurry of Guitar Hero, Karaoke and well, flurries. Needless to say I was not exactly ecstatic to wake up one morning to a bed of the white stuff during my alleged year of sunshine. However it becomes increasingly easier to deal with heavy winter conditions when you have an imminent ticket booked to the Southern Hemisphere. I was off to South Africa. Though certainly off in only the commencing sense of the word as I still had a grueling 30-hour trip ahead of me.
I arrived at the Lester B. Pearson in Toronto at 15:30 on Saturday the 24th and was overjoyed to succeed once again at my newfound favourite traveling pastime: sneaking more than one allotted Ziploc bag of liquids through security. I had also eagerly checked my ‘ultra high tech’ backpack all the way through to Cape Town; as I was to stopover for the day in London and would certainly not want to be encumbered by it.
The first flight was a breeze and I was mildly disappointed to learn that the duration was only to be 6 hours. I only had time for one in-flight movie! Yet as I breezed past customs in Heathrow on only two hours of sleep things were looking good. This was the first time in my life that I’d experienced a shorter lineup for the ‘all other nationals’ in comparison to the ‘UK passport holders’. As well, I was going to meet up with my Australian cousin Lindsay, who is studying this semester in Holland and was currently in London visiting with her boyfriend Dan. Feeling chatty I began talking with a nice looking bloke. It turned out that he was Australian, a backpacker and also taking the tube into town. And being that I had a few hours to kill before meeting up with Lindsay I decided that we would subway into town together.
In one of the best decisions of the day I bought a day pass for ∉6.70 and we were in action. On our way to the underground a tube worker mentioned something to us but not for love nor money could I make out his accent. As it turns out, he was informing us that the Piccadilly line was broken in one area. We found this out for ourselves at the Hampstead station when we sat for ages in a deserted car. We then had the pleasure of taking an authentic London double-decker bus to the next working part of the line. Although I must admit, the busses are identical to those in Victoria.
At this point it was becoming evident that I would not be able to accompany Jack, the Aussie to his Hostel and back to South Kensington all before the 10am meeting time with Lindsay and Dan. Yet knowing Lindsay I knew she wouldn’t be too disappointed when I pushed the time one hour back. So Jack and I went to check him into the massive 800 bed Generator Hostel and then indulged in their complementary breakfast of Coco crispies and tea. At 10:40 I said it was lovely meeting him and that I really must be off, when it became apparent that Jack thought he was joining me in meeting up with Lindsay.
At this point I didn’t know what to say. I had said nothing to lead him to this conclusion and had heavily implied the opposite. I really have no tolerance for people who don’t take social hints and on two hours of sleep I thought what the hell, let’s let this one play out.
Upon meeting up with Linds and Dan I rapidly explained the situation to Lindsay and we both shrugged. Yet after Jack joined us for breakfast and let Dan pay for his cappuccino I was very firm in my decision that he was on the next subway, to anywhere.
So Linds, Dan and myself enjoyed the rest of the afternoon together and then I made a mad dash back to Heathrow. And I mean literally. For the Piccadilly line was still down and so I had to make two connections and then book it through Paddington station to the Heathrow express. Anyways I made it in time to beg a large plastic bag off of a merchant to combine my two pieces of hand luggage into one, in compliance with new restrictions. As well as to pass the Ziploc liquids game once more and still have time leftover to buy some Boots botanicals toiletries (they do a fabulous hand cream). Then I fitfully slept the remaining leg of my trip away and woke up in a new South Africa to a full-blown case of Murphy’s Law.
As it turns out my pay-as-you-go travel philosophy was not enough to get me through the South African entry requirements, for I wasn’t in possession of an outbound ticket. So I was told that I would either have to post a bond of 13 000 rand in cash, or else immediately buy a return ticket. Oops. An agent (Jeremy) was then dispatched to escort me through the luggage claims and to the British Airways ticketing agents on the other side. So Jeremy and I waited, we waited and we waited and we waited until it was confirmed that no more luggage was coming through. Whoops. And all this time I was thinking about how Yair Sckolne, an old family friend was going to be waiting for me and would soon witness my entire flight of people walk by minus me. And I still had to file my baggage claim. Bag type? Umm… #29. Bag colour? Royal blue. Then the lost baggage system crashes. I mean seriously. At this point I tell Jeremy that we must meet Yair and that we can deal with the system later. So then I tell Yair what’s going on and Jeremy, Yair and myself take leave to the British Airways counter where I just about impulse buy a 8000 rand ticket to Sydney and then I think hold on, won’t a one-way ticket to Sydney start this mess all over again down under? So I turn to Jeremy and ask if he won’t just give me a one day reprieve to think it all over considering that my luggage has now been misplaced. He kind of shrugs emphatically and says ok.
So Yair and I leave the airport to pouring rain in the middle of an African summer and I have my purse, daypack, no luggage and no South African stamp in my passport. I have to admit that it was all just a little bit funny.
I arrived at the Lester B. Pearson in Toronto at 15:30 on Saturday the 24th and was overjoyed to succeed once again at my newfound favourite traveling pastime: sneaking more than one allotted Ziploc bag of liquids through security. I had also eagerly checked my ‘ultra high tech’ backpack all the way through to Cape Town; as I was to stopover for the day in London and would certainly not want to be encumbered by it.
The first flight was a breeze and I was mildly disappointed to learn that the duration was only to be 6 hours. I only had time for one in-flight movie! Yet as I breezed past customs in Heathrow on only two hours of sleep things were looking good. This was the first time in my life that I’d experienced a shorter lineup for the ‘all other nationals’ in comparison to the ‘UK passport holders’. As well, I was going to meet up with my Australian cousin Lindsay, who is studying this semester in Holland and was currently in London visiting with her boyfriend Dan. Feeling chatty I began talking with a nice looking bloke. It turned out that he was Australian, a backpacker and also taking the tube into town. And being that I had a few hours to kill before meeting up with Lindsay I decided that we would subway into town together.
In one of the best decisions of the day I bought a day pass for ∉6.70 and we were in action. On our way to the underground a tube worker mentioned something to us but not for love nor money could I make out his accent. As it turns out, he was informing us that the Piccadilly line was broken in one area. We found this out for ourselves at the Hampstead station when we sat for ages in a deserted car. We then had the pleasure of taking an authentic London double-decker bus to the next working part of the line. Although I must admit, the busses are identical to those in Victoria.
At this point it was becoming evident that I would not be able to accompany Jack, the Aussie to his Hostel and back to South Kensington all before the 10am meeting time with Lindsay and Dan. Yet knowing Lindsay I knew she wouldn’t be too disappointed when I pushed the time one hour back. So Jack and I went to check him into the massive 800 bed Generator Hostel and then indulged in their complementary breakfast of Coco crispies and tea. At 10:40 I said it was lovely meeting him and that I really must be off, when it became apparent that Jack thought he was joining me in meeting up with Lindsay.
At this point I didn’t know what to say. I had said nothing to lead him to this conclusion and had heavily implied the opposite. I really have no tolerance for people who don’t take social hints and on two hours of sleep I thought what the hell, let’s let this one play out.
Upon meeting up with Linds and Dan I rapidly explained the situation to Lindsay and we both shrugged. Yet after Jack joined us for breakfast and let Dan pay for his cappuccino I was very firm in my decision that he was on the next subway, to anywhere.
So Linds, Dan and myself enjoyed the rest of the afternoon together and then I made a mad dash back to Heathrow. And I mean literally. For the Piccadilly line was still down and so I had to make two connections and then book it through Paddington station to the Heathrow express. Anyways I made it in time to beg a large plastic bag off of a merchant to combine my two pieces of hand luggage into one, in compliance with new restrictions. As well as to pass the Ziploc liquids game once more and still have time leftover to buy some Boots botanicals toiletries (they do a fabulous hand cream). Then I fitfully slept the remaining leg of my trip away and woke up in a new South Africa to a full-blown case of Murphy’s Law.
As it turns out my pay-as-you-go travel philosophy was not enough to get me through the South African entry requirements, for I wasn’t in possession of an outbound ticket. So I was told that I would either have to post a bond of 13 000 rand in cash, or else immediately buy a return ticket. Oops. An agent (Jeremy) was then dispatched to escort me through the luggage claims and to the British Airways ticketing agents on the other side. So Jeremy and I waited, we waited and we waited and we waited until it was confirmed that no more luggage was coming through. Whoops. And all this time I was thinking about how Yair Sckolne, an old family friend was going to be waiting for me and would soon witness my entire flight of people walk by minus me. And I still had to file my baggage claim. Bag type? Umm… #29. Bag colour? Royal blue. Then the lost baggage system crashes. I mean seriously. At this point I tell Jeremy that we must meet Yair and that we can deal with the system later. So then I tell Yair what’s going on and Jeremy, Yair and myself take leave to the British Airways counter where I just about impulse buy a 8000 rand ticket to Sydney and then I think hold on, won’t a one-way ticket to Sydney start this mess all over again down under? So I turn to Jeremy and ask if he won’t just give me a one day reprieve to think it all over considering that my luggage has now been misplaced. He kind of shrugs emphatically and says ok.
So Yair and I leave the airport to pouring rain in the middle of an African summer and I have my purse, daypack, no luggage and no South African stamp in my passport. I have to admit that it was all just a little bit funny.
11.14.2007
The big bad streets of Toronto.
On Thursday the 8th I was well into my morning routine of breakfast and the Toronto Star when I found an article that peaked my interest. It was titled "Condo seekers hire stand-buys" and it went on to describe how real estate agents had hired university students to camp-out in line for spots One Bloor East, the hottest new condo development in Toronto at Bloor and Yonge. The article then described how these kids were getting paid salaries enough to cover a cruise vacation, "and then some." The line holders were well looked after and even had a catering service. One girl, Sandra was even quoted as saying, "If I want sushi, I get sushi". It was hysterical. I had to get involved. Not only was it a ludicrous story that I could retell for years to come, but I could also then say that I'd gone from living on a yacht to living on the streets. I started my google invenstigation immediately.
I managed to trace the story back to Hersch Litvack who is self toted as the "sweetest man in real estate" and had started what we would later refer to fondly as 'Camp Bloor' in anticipation of the November 13th private realtor sales date. I then e-mailed Hersch to find out if they needed any more people, and on midnight of Saturday the 10th I joined the party as the 'freshmeat', helping to relieve the other representatives of 'Team Hersch' who had been out there since the previous Monday. They were certainly glad and more than a little surprised to see me. Jess Melanson or 'Me-la-la-la-nonsense' was shocked that I had actually joined them out of my own validation and that's when I discovered that the majority of Team Hersch were middle to upper middle class Thornhill Jews that had known each other in some respect or another for tens of years. This was about to become an interesting social experiment.
In my journal entry from November 11th I wrote that after a certain amount of time, everyone here goes crazy. That statement managed to prove itself time and time again. One day a Middle-eastern realtor actually threatened our lives after his representative, a homeless man that he had hired for $2.92 an hour lost his place in line. Fortunatly we had off-duty cops hired for our protection, and heat lamps, as well as a hotel room that we rotated into for some much needed respite for a couple of hours every day. We were the most privileged of all the professional stand-buys. And yet we still went a little bit coo-coo. Having 12 hours of sleep over a three day period will do that to you. Sitting outside in a shanty-town constructed of blue tarps and duct-taped umbrellas in a downpour will do that to you. And certainly taking away the basic necessity of shelter from someone fortunate enough to have never gone without it before, will drive you to empathy with homeless people that was previously unrealized. It is not easy being a bum. Even being paid to sit outside for 24 hours a day with role call as my only duty was difficult. It all added up to one of the more unique challenges that I have ever put myself up to.
And now that it's all said and done I find the experience a hard one to let go of easily. I was homeless for a few days. That kind of thing has a way of affecting a person.
The picture from the article in the Toronto Star that originally peaked my interest.
This is the lineup. We had roll call every 2 hours in the day, every three in the evening and every 4 at night to ensure that 'the list' - the correct lineup was adhered to.
precious roll call moments
Anna Cass and Hersch Litvack
I managed to trace the story back to Hersch Litvack who is self toted as the "sweetest man in real estate" and had started what we would later refer to fondly as 'Camp Bloor' in anticipation of the November 13th private realtor sales date. I then e-mailed Hersch to find out if they needed any more people, and on midnight of Saturday the 10th I joined the party as the 'freshmeat', helping to relieve the other representatives of 'Team Hersch' who had been out there since the previous Monday. They were certainly glad and more than a little surprised to see me. Jess Melanson or 'Me-la-la-la-nonsense' was shocked that I had actually joined them out of my own validation and that's when I discovered that the majority of Team Hersch were middle to upper middle class Thornhill Jews that had known each other in some respect or another for tens of years. This was about to become an interesting social experiment.
In my journal entry from November 11th I wrote that after a certain amount of time, everyone here goes crazy. That statement managed to prove itself time and time again. One day a Middle-eastern realtor actually threatened our lives after his representative, a homeless man that he had hired for $2.92 an hour lost his place in line. Fortunatly we had off-duty cops hired for our protection, and heat lamps, as well as a hotel room that we rotated into for some much needed respite for a couple of hours every day. We were the most privileged of all the professional stand-buys. And yet we still went a little bit coo-coo. Having 12 hours of sleep over a three day period will do that to you. Sitting outside in a shanty-town constructed of blue tarps and duct-taped umbrellas in a downpour will do that to you. And certainly taking away the basic necessity of shelter from someone fortunate enough to have never gone without it before, will drive you to empathy with homeless people that was previously unrealized. It is not easy being a bum. Even being paid to sit outside for 24 hours a day with role call as my only duty was difficult. It all added up to one of the more unique challenges that I have ever put myself up to.
And now that it's all said and done I find the experience a hard one to let go of easily. I was homeless for a few days. That kind of thing has a way of affecting a person.
The picture from the article in the Toronto Star that originally peaked my interest.
This is the lineup. We had roll call every 2 hours in the day, every three in the evening and every 4 at night to ensure that 'the list' - the correct lineup was adhered to.
precious roll call moments
Anna Cass and Hersch Litvack
11.07.2007
גם זה יעבור
Yesterday I woke up in Antigua as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Today I woke up in Toronto.
This just goes to show that you never can be too sure of what will happen in life. It is just another reminder to never become complacent.
So how exactly does all of this fit in with my story, with my year of great adventure? Well It actually fits in surprisingly well and harmonizies with a blog that was named for this very opportunity.
this too shall pass.
A very simple phrase with an incredibly profound meaning. I first heard it with regards to the parable of King Solomon. If you are familiar with it then you will know that King Solomon was widely known as a very wise man. As such he liked to test his ministers to keep them sharp and on their toes. One day he called his most trusted minister in and gave him a task that he himself thought impossible. He said, "I wish you to go out and fetch me something that makes the saddest man happy and the happiest man sad."
And so his minister set out and he searched the land high and low and yet he could not find the object which he sought. And so on the last day remaining in his mission he dejectedly turned around and headed back to the Palace. On his way he walked through the market place. The merchants were persistently hawking their wares and yet the minister paid them no heed. Yet one lone merchant with a sign advertising 'Exactly what you're looking for' managed to catch his attention. So in one last desperate attempt, the Minister inquired after his elusive object.
"umm... Excuse me? Do you by any chance have something that would make the saddest man happy and the happiest man sad?"
"oh," replied the Merchant, "that, I do."
"Really? Inquired the Minister, because I have searched the land over for it!"
"Isn't it just the case that it's always in the last place you look," replied the Merchant with a twinkle to his eye. "Just give me ten minutes."
And sure enough ten minutes later the Merchant returned cupping a tiny parcel. This he unwrapped to the eager suspense of the Minister who was horrified to notice that all that lay unwrapped was a single gold band. But as he held it up and inspected it closer he realized that the ring was engraved. It said, 'this too shall pass'. The Minister had passed an impossible mission.
And so the Minister returned to his King.
"Well, my friend," said Solomon, "have you found what I sent you after?" All the other ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled.
To everyone's surprise, the Minister held up a small gold ring and declared, "Here it is, your majesty!" As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. For his most trusted minister had indeed found the very thing that would make the saddest man happy and the happiest man sad.
And so, as things didn't work out entirely as I thought they would and a twist of fate lands me in Toronto, I am reminded once again to keep a little percpective. My time on the boat was wonderful as I was surrounded by an amazing crew of people that I was fortunate to meet. And yet sometimes, for instance while I was puking out what seemed to be my very soul, I would have paid a whole months salary if the boat would only stop going up and down. And just as the ship rocks up and down I am reminded of a memorable quote from the movie Blow.
"Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust, and when you're up, it's never as good as it seems, and when you're down, you never think you'll be up again, but life goes on."
Remember, this too shall pass.
Today I woke up in Toronto.
This just goes to show that you never can be too sure of what will happen in life. It is just another reminder to never become complacent.
So how exactly does all of this fit in with my story, with my year of great adventure? Well It actually fits in surprisingly well and harmonizies with a blog that was named for this very opportunity.
this too shall pass.
A very simple phrase with an incredibly profound meaning. I first heard it with regards to the parable of King Solomon. If you are familiar with it then you will know that King Solomon was widely known as a very wise man. As such he liked to test his ministers to keep them sharp and on their toes. One day he called his most trusted minister in and gave him a task that he himself thought impossible. He said, "I wish you to go out and fetch me something that makes the saddest man happy and the happiest man sad."
And so his minister set out and he searched the land high and low and yet he could not find the object which he sought. And so on the last day remaining in his mission he dejectedly turned around and headed back to the Palace. On his way he walked through the market place. The merchants were persistently hawking their wares and yet the minister paid them no heed. Yet one lone merchant with a sign advertising 'Exactly what you're looking for' managed to catch his attention. So in one last desperate attempt, the Minister inquired after his elusive object.
"umm... Excuse me? Do you by any chance have something that would make the saddest man happy and the happiest man sad?"
"oh," replied the Merchant, "that, I do."
"Really? Inquired the Minister, because I have searched the land over for it!"
"Isn't it just the case that it's always in the last place you look," replied the Merchant with a twinkle to his eye. "Just give me ten minutes."
And sure enough ten minutes later the Merchant returned cupping a tiny parcel. This he unwrapped to the eager suspense of the Minister who was horrified to notice that all that lay unwrapped was a single gold band. But as he held it up and inspected it closer he realized that the ring was engraved. It said, 'this too shall pass'. The Minister had passed an impossible mission.
And so the Minister returned to his King.
"Well, my friend," said Solomon, "have you found what I sent you after?" All the other ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled.
To everyone's surprise, the Minister held up a small gold ring and declared, "Here it is, your majesty!" As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. For his most trusted minister had indeed found the very thing that would make the saddest man happy and the happiest man sad.
And so, as things didn't work out entirely as I thought they would and a twist of fate lands me in Toronto, I am reminded once again to keep a little percpective. My time on the boat was wonderful as I was surrounded by an amazing crew of people that I was fortunate to meet. And yet sometimes, for instance while I was puking out what seemed to be my very soul, I would have paid a whole months salary if the boat would only stop going up and down. And just as the ship rocks up and down I am reminded of a memorable quote from the movie Blow.
"Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust, and when you're up, it's never as good as it seems, and when you're down, you never think you'll be up again, but life goes on."
Remember, this too shall pass.
11.05.2007
Christmas in July
Halloween is a big deal in North America. We take it quite seriously. Unless your thoughts around the holiday mirror my father's, who makes a great gesture of closing all of the blinds and turning off all the lights, then you like myself, probably go to a great deal of effort in honour of October the 31st. Needless to say things are a little different in the tiny Caribbean island of Antigua. I wasn't exactly stoked. However in that great way that our ship manages to provide for all of our wanton needs, there were actually crew halloween costumes neatly labelled in a box on board the Absinthe, just waiting to be worn. Amy and Jane set about selecting surprise scary costumes for every member of the crew. And I, in my sometimes impetuous manner made sure to mention how this could not possibly compare to a halloween in Victoria. What could these two English girls who celebrated Halloween with traditional horror costumes possibly know about my impossibly high standards for a Halloween costume? For I was never satisfied to simply be a policeman or a cat and instead insisted on a costume that was creative, yet recognizable and also ridiculously good-looking. And did they know that I actually had three distinct costumes for last years festivities??? Eyes were rolled and then we set about work for the day in usual fashion.
Later on, as I was vacuuming a particular trouble spot around a corner, disaster struck. As I reached the full extension of my power cord I heard the familiar whirring sound signifying a liberated electrical prong. I quickly stood up to rectify the situation and SMACK, I went left eye first into the corner of a cabinet and PLOP onto the hardwood floor. I then crawled onto a bench in the crew mess to have a little wobbly only to be urged on when I removed my hand from my face and found it to be smeared with the good red stuff. This was followed by a lovely paternal-like bonding moment when Paul, the captain fetched me an ice pack. On the plus side, now that I was sure to have a raging black eye I was fully committed to being a gauzy beat-up zombie.
Makeup enhanced boo boo
some of the gang
Brad was really into his dress
Costume change!
10.25.2007
love me tender
Yesterday was an incredible day in Antigua. After lunch Amy and I went for a dip and then in the evening Damo, Dan, Brad, Amy and myself went for a rip on our tender. Our tender is a 75 horsepower dinghy that we happily hooked a rope and wakeboard up to. We then all took turns shredding it during the last few hours of sunlight. In my usual tradition I managed to eat it hard on my last run.
down at the pier
swimming with Amy
Wakeboarding off the tender
just love the lighting!
Damo + random stone house?
down at the pier
swimming with Amy
Wakeboarding off the tender
just love the lighting!
Damo + random stone house?
10.23.2007
Yeahh Ooohh Yeah yeah
Last night a couple of the crew decided to go out for some drinks after dinner. So, we walked through the crew mess, out the port side of the boat and down the gangplank to the bar conveniently located 5 feet away. After a couple 'Caribs' and several fresh mango daiquiris we decided to continue down the pier on somewhat of a pub crawl. As soon as we had set out a gentle mist started up. I smiled and declared how this gentle, warm rain was a lovely change to the torrential downpour of Vancouver. And then of course it started coming down in buckets. I was drenched in every Backstreet Boy sense of the word in two minutes flat. It would have made for a superb music video. So I did the obvious thing and booked it for our original pub to reclaim my previous stool.
Amy, Lance and I post rain
A not entirely flattering shot of Amy that showcases the proximity of boat to bar
A redeeming cute shot of my roommate Amy
Amy, Lance and I post rain
A not entirely flattering shot of Amy that showcases the proximity of boat to bar
A redeeming cute shot of my roommate Amy
10.22.2007
It's not easy being green.
I am currently in Antigua in the Caribbean and it's pretty off the hook!
It took us several days to get here from Panama and I spent a lot of that time up-chucking over the side of the boat. Did you know that sea sickness is the new Atkins? During this time I had the Beatles song "Happiness is a Warm Gun" constantly running through my head and I developed a feverish love-hate relationship with Breton crackers.
Anyways I got over it and now am experiencing the spins on land, or perhaps it is just my hangover. Last night we went out for dinner to a Japanese restaurant. It was a lot like all you can eat Shabusan, if Shabusan had black waitstaff wearing graphic Ts and was actually a gazebo.
We are going to be in Antigua for at least another week. Our captain Paul is from here and is kinda a big deal so we might stay even longer to be a part of the boat show. Our owners actually want us to go to the Med right now, but unless we get a good weather window it just won't happen. As well our boat is up for sale and so literally everything is up in the air. but a 200 foot yacht is not something bought entirely on whim and so I'm not all that worried.
If there's one thing I've really learned from my time on the yacht so far (other than that a mixture of half water and half vinegar makes for a lovely hardwood shine) it's that owning a yacht is a bad idea. They cost a fotune to begin with and then you pay a fortune to upkeep the damn thing. But it sure is lovely having someone support my newfound lush lifestyle. I always did want to go to school on Breaker High...
It took us several days to get here from Panama and I spent a lot of that time up-chucking over the side of the boat. Did you know that sea sickness is the new Atkins? During this time I had the Beatles song "Happiness is a Warm Gun" constantly running through my head and I developed a feverish love-hate relationship with Breton crackers.
Anyways I got over it and now am experiencing the spins on land, or perhaps it is just my hangover. Last night we went out for dinner to a Japanese restaurant. It was a lot like all you can eat Shabusan, if Shabusan had black waitstaff wearing graphic Ts and was actually a gazebo.
We are going to be in Antigua for at least another week. Our captain Paul is from here and is kinda a big deal so we might stay even longer to be a part of the boat show. Our owners actually want us to go to the Med right now, but unless we get a good weather window it just won't happen. As well our boat is up for sale and so literally everything is up in the air. but a 200 foot yacht is not something bought entirely on whim and so I'm not all that worried.
If there's one thing I've really learned from my time on the yacht so far (other than that a mixture of half water and half vinegar makes for a lovely hardwood shine) it's that owning a yacht is a bad idea. They cost a fotune to begin with and then you pay a fortune to upkeep the damn thing. But it sure is lovely having someone support my newfound lush lifestyle. I always did want to go to school on Breaker High...
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