Dive In

Dive In

New Guy is starting to speak. I mean, he’s starting to open up and say things about himself and have conversations. He’s still super quiet at mealtimes, occasionally laughing at our silliness. But I imagine we’re a tough crowd. We’re so tightly knit right now that I think of us in terms of a constellation. Interconnected, separate yet forming a larger picture.

But, not surprisingly, the constellation is about to change. We’re getting a new first mate on Monday who will sail with us from Greenport to Marblehead. There we’ll get a new temporary captain, and Captain Flash will become first mate for the transit to the Great Lakes. And, as I write this, Bly is buying his ticket home from Marblehead. I can hardly believe it. I’m really going to miss the guy. We all are. That’s the nature of this game, I guess, but it will alter everything.

The romance of the sea
When I went to buy my own ticket, for the bus into Manhattan, the woman at the Hampton Jitney asked me about how I got into this business. She was enamored. It’s fun to see how it awakens people’s memories and dreams. She told me all about how she’d been to Nova Scotia once, camping. And how her husband bought a boat – he’d been in the navy – but she and her sons all got sea-sick, so they had to sell it.

Indian food for dinner. And all-vegetarian.

Indian food for dinner. And all-vegetarian.

What is it about the sea, and life on the sea that does this to people? Even people who get seasick?

At night the pier is scattered with people trying to catch squid. Old Italian guys, young, short, Peruvian-looking fellows, and a few older couples huddle in small groups and stand with lights glaring into the sea, bobbing their poles up and down. Harrison went and bought one of these “jigs” in order to catch me a squid. Right now he has some old friends in town visiting him, so we likely won’t have a squid on the jig tonight. Frankly, I’m a little terrified of the prospect anyway, having never cooked with squid before. But the only way to face your terrors, I guess, is to squinch up your eyes, stare the thing down, and dive in.

Saturday’s Menu
Breakfast
Blueberry muffins and smoothies
Lunch
Leftover sandwiches – I pan-grilled some of them in butter, if they wanted me to; miscellaneous salads and a pasta dish for Eve with sautéed zucchini and fresh tomatoes and Asiago cheese.
Dinner
Indian: chickpea dal; kofta in a cream sauce; rice with turmeric and carrots and peas; chutney with rains and apricots and apples. I also bought one of those roaster chickens because I knew Cap wouldn’t eat Indian, and when I asked her what she wanted, she said Caesar salad.
Dessert
It was one of those days where I completely forgot about the dessert. I almost opened up the limoncello, but then realized it wasn’t cold. It’s now in the freezer… and we’re all waiting anxiously.