|English muffins in the skillet.|
This was the day we spent preparing to leave Gaspe Bay. I didn’t write at all, not even a note. But I remember it vividly. Everyone else stood down the evening before, so I was given the morning off. Typical. Not only did Ol’ Dies’ finally lose her flame, but we had to move the boat. And with Rigby in a sling, I was on fender duty. Needless to say, I did not get time off.
Our departure was delayed several times. Just after muster, I asked if we had any antibiotics onboard. My cold had moved to my chest in the last hours (not surprising, after having spent a couple hours in the cold hunched over Ol’ Dies’, vacuuming out her creosote-lined bowels).
|Goat cheese and tomato quiche in the works.|
I had English muffin dough in the fridge from the day before, so while we waited for the 10 PM muster, I shaped them and cooked them in the iron skillet. I also baked the quiches for the next day’s breakfast.
Captain Dashing returned to muster with something from the Canadian drugstore designed to target mucus and phlegm. It helped somewhat.