This is our second article and it should be explained that we have been contracted as the literary agent for the sturdy little vessel “Brown Sugar”. We are considered amongst other things a true and combined figment of the crew's somewhat augmented imagination. Combining the life experiences of what can only be described as a truly eclectic group. This being said you will note that we refer to ourselves as “WE”. It seems only fair and prudent that we do so considering the fact that we are scribing (and editing some of what the crew is thinking).
All that being said we were asked earlier to describe our feelings with reference to certain activities, functions, food, or just in general regular happenings during our voyage. This particular topic was already related to via our blog by our illustrious leader and credit was awarded to a particular crew member. The topic was shower day and the human male form. First how and the heck do 6 guys keep clean? The process is actually quite simple. First you tie a black bucket on to a long string. You may remember a reference to this same tool being used in a crew research project. Next you take a cleaning product known to suds in salt water. Than while naked on deck you draw a bucket of water up from the ocean and pour it over your body. One should note here that shower day was delayed while waiting for the ocean to warm and for the small little stingy things floating about to go away. Once doused with water you attempt to scrub and clean most all of your body with one hand while holding on with the other. A few more bucket full’s ensures a complete soap rinse. This is done in the relative privacy of the aft corner leeward seat. Next comes the fresh water rinse. This is conducted forward amidships next to the leeward shrouds. This process is enhanced by the use of a solar powered shower bag rigged from a spare halyard and secured to the shrouds.
Here in lies the root of our conversations vis-a-vis the human male form. While working in the cockpit driving, a direct view of the shrouds and the showerer is pretty much mandatory, increasing the potential of mis-course tracking and round ups by probably ten fold, all due to the poor helmsman’s attempt to not stare directly at “IT”. At this point it was noted that while we all (men that is) respect our female counter parts, at the end of shower day we have to ask “What in Gods name were you thinking when you said leave the lights on!” We have decided than that the male form is somewhat akin to that of a camel, not a zoo camel but one that is living free on the range. Oh and by the way ladies thanks for the lights being on and for just being you. We do offer one solution you might be able to guess what it is if we refer to the Blindfolded Bowman?
“WE” Brian Samuel Allott