Posted on: June 16, 2011 Posted by: Cole Ruth Comments: 2
The remains of the hash with goat cheese…
I awoke to the sound of Eve nervously pacing outside my bunk. The generator had been giving her problems since last night and … well, without it, I’m limited to cooking on Ol’ Dies’. Not the end of the world, but not a situation I’m normally prepared for at 7:30 AM. I racked my brain for alternative breakfasts, that didn’t require high heat (like eggs) or baking at 350, like muffins or biscuits. I had planned sausage and biscuits, but that was clearly not going to fly.¬†

After a while Captain Dashing came back to the boat and they fixed the broken impellers and we were off and running. Meanwhile, I did what I could. I’ve always found that necessity is the mother of invention. (See below.)

Had a nice chat with Captain Dashing later in the day in which I think he complemented my cooking. It was a good food day all around.

I do find that I am easily irked by food manners lately, though. As the crew grows, it gets harder to manage. People take larger servings than they should, instead of waiting to make sure everyone gets a portion and then taking seconds. They drop food on the table or on the floor and don’t clean up after themselves. I ask them to cover up fruit and other items on the “pass” and they forget. I know they are working their asses off, so I try to let it go. But how hard is it, really?

At the end of the day I spent some QT with Strauss, because he had the duty. I dried the dishes as he washed. He’s a tough nut to crack. I find it hard to look at him, because his earrings and haircut look so self-mutilatory… but I’m warming up to him. Anyone who does a thorough job cleaning the galley at night gets points in my book.

Tall Ship Merry-go-round
Last night Harrison paced on the dock, talking on the phone for a very, very long time. I realized, as I passed him on the way to and from the shore head, that I haven’t mentioned that he’s leaving. He, Rigby, and even Smith now, are ticking clocks. Harrison leaves in our next port, in Rochester. Rigby leaves in Toledo, and Smith in Duluth. By then it will be a total crew change, bearing little resemblance to the group I started out with. We all knew it was coming. But it’s still a strange process.

Indian food my way.

Wednesday’s Menu
Leftover Swedish hash combined with pork sausage and goat cheese. I was aiming for baked eggs, but the oven never got hot enough.
Chipotle grits with cheddar cheese
Sandwiches on homemade wheat buns with salami, cheese, red peppers, lettuce, and odd fixings I pulled out of the fridge. One time Smith told me my sandwiches were often better than my dinners, and I said, “That’s because you get to customize them. So everyone gets what they want.” “Yeah,” she said, “But you also put out stuff I’d never think to put on a sandwich and it totally works.”
Chicken Vindaloo, Aloo Gobi, naan bread, an apple-apricot-currant chutney, and thinly sliced pikled carrots
Banana bread

2 People reacted on this

  1. I had to remove an anonymous comment because it mentioned a real name of a real tall ship. Although much of what I write about is “real,” all the names here are disguised in order to give some fictional element to my story, and as much anonymity as possible to the real people. But the comment was a good one, so I am copying it here, without the reference:

    “I think it is your organization’s idea to change crew as often as they do. Most ships hire for the whole season and this seems much more sensible as it takes so long to “gel” the crew and learn the ropes (literally!!!). It is only though many days together in lots of situations that the crew forms a cohesive unit and can rely on each other without worry. Maybe that is why it is hard on the captain and officers and you find the rules restricting. They feel the stress of a green crew and safety is always foremost on their minds.

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