How is posting a blog at sea like eating an orange?

How is posting a blog at sea like eating an orange?
Well, first I have to be inspired enough to get off the settee.
Second, I have to put my book down because it takes two hands to get to, and stay in, the swaying nav station and type.
Thirdly, and finally,its was a bit bitter at first when I bit into it, but when I begin to peel away the day and get inside, its all rather sweet and juicy.

Or so I hope, because I really have no idea what I am going to say today.

"Well, what's the juicy part?" I hear you asking.

Well, hmmm let me see. I know, I lost my voice. Its around here somewhere, the boat is only 48 feet long and like everything else that gets lost on board, sooner or later it is discovered. Its just gone into hiding for a day or two I think to punish me for what I did to it. Not that I have much use for it all by myself these days, but I was singing a bit to pass the time and I miss it.

Here is the story of how I lost my voice.

Yesterday, before I caught my fish, in a moment of self-loathing and utter carelessness, I opened a deli pack of chicken ham, and even though it smelled a bit odd and had that sticky feel to it, I devoured it right at the galley counter. Silly boy. As I stood there instantly feeling like I had over-eaten at McDonalds, I realized I had made a mistake, maybe even a very serious mistake. I am way too far away from anywhere to take a chance on food poisoning. It reminded me of a sailing friend from the South Pacific, who shall remain nameless. Despite my predicament, I had to smile with the memory of this fellow, and his adventures on his single handed quest to eat everything questionable he found on the boat and the places he visited and always be the last man standing. It was no contest as far as I was concerned - he was the king and he got home safely, but will I?

I knew right away what I had to do. And I knew I had to act soon. But I had never tried it before. In fact at sea, usually the first few days out, I am trying my best not to throw up! And I have had lots of practice at that with varying degrees of success, as my crewmates will attest. But making myself sick, when I wasn't? I had to smile again despite myself, when I realized what a tragic proposition this was for me to face, especially as I had only the faintest twinge of sea sickness on this trip and now I was going to have to make myself sick. "What a looser" I thought.

I cleared away some dirty dishes and leaned over the galley sink. The first tentative thrust of my fingers down my throat, brought about those awful sounds of the gag reflex, but nothing more. I tried it again, a lot more forcefully, asking inane questions of myself as I do at times like this. "I wonder what this thing I feel down my throat looks like?" and "I wonder, could I actually choke myself to death by doing this and would that be better or worse than death by food poisoning?" A third try brought no better results other than a roaring gag. You can imagine my voice was getting a work out and looking for a place to hide.

Well, I thought, I know when I am being sea sick it seems to be over fastest when I am on all fours on the cabin floor. I first encountered this position on the beaches of Long Point after my first and last encounter with Canadian Club Scotch Whiskey. Not being able to dig a hole in the sand, I reached over and grabbed the wash basin and got down on the salon floor. I managed to throw up only a trace. I tried and tried to no avail. I could see I was far from getting anywhere. I needed to get rid of this chicken.

As I pondered what to try next I remembered another friend who I remembered laughingly telling a gathering of friends one night of an evening he had spent at Haven-by-the-Sea Retreat Center drinking sea water and throwing up, or "Heaving-by-the-Sea" as he had put it. Ha Ha. Of course, salt water. No shortage that. One quickly swallowed cup from the galley salt water tap did the trick and I cleaned up with a second just for good luck.

Somewhere in the proceedings my voice got away. I know by the time I was attempting to swear in a self comforting way as I cleaned myself up on the salon floor, my voice was gone. But so was the chicken. Thank goodness. Problem solved. You silly boy, and I know my voice will forgive me and be back soon. Crazy huh?

Nothing to report around the boat today, really just a carbon copy of yesterdays great sailing. Covered another 154 nautical miles. Life is good, but watch out for that un-refrigerated chicken!

Cresswell