We are finally leaving. Tomorrow I have to put breakfast on the table at 7 am. We are to leave directly afterwards for Bermuda. They are forecasting 25 knot winds and high seas. Exciting. But I will be out of contact for a while, at least until we reach Bermuda, which I’m told will take us three to four days if all goes well. Wish me luck! Tomorrow I’m making pancakes for breakfast, spaghetti and meatballs for lunch, mushroom risotto for dinner with dinner rolls and butterscotch pudding for the night watch that comes off at midnight. Pfew.
At some point I decided to fictionalize the names of the people onboard so as to protect the identities of the innocent (and the not so innocent). Mostly the not so innocent. So, just to be clear, there is a head captain, named Captain Wright. There is a relief captain, Captain Might. There is a first mate, named Zeke; a second mate, the Philosopher. The one who subbed in for me as cook before I arrived is Filip. The teenager is Huck. There is a Swede named Kakan and a bareback pony riding, tough-ass girl who’s in my age bucket named Sugarbelle. There is a tree-planting Canadian named Jenny and a sweet, endearing young thing who is always reassuring toward me and her name is Cat. The guy from the further reaches of Massachusetts, with whom I shared his first oyster and who gave us the gift of his own hard-won venison is named Will. And the one who seems to miss the old cook the most is Elise.
When we headed out from Boston, we also had cargo – three guests I will refer to as Nice, Quiet, and Too Nice. Nice got off in Bermuda where we exchanged him for a gal named Cracker, a long-time occasional crew member onboard our ship, which I’ve affectionately nicknamed, “The Neverland.”