This is Life

We’ve had such different experiences of this last bit of time that it’s rather difficult to pull it together into a coherent post.  So we’ve decided to let images speak for us for the most part. I (Dena) got aboard the Mystic Whaler in Manhattan and we left immediately.  The Clearwater Festival was the weekend’s big event, and the Whaler looked great. My cabin was modest, and short term.  I’ve slept several places since this, including the co-ed foc’sle.  (Or forecastle, as it is spelled properly.) As a West Coast girl, I had no idea there was so much greenery on the East Coast.  Even very close to the City, along the Hudson, beauty can be found easily by sail. Back at anchor in New London, I (James) rode the 16-mile round trip to Niantic daily, climbing Mount Motherfucker, Holy Shit Hill, with the occasional Motherfuckingcocksucking Mountain to alternate the pain between my knees and my lower back.   Most of what I (Dena) do on board the Whaler is work – real work.  I’ve been exhausted by long days of hard labor, sweating profusely and assiduously guarding against sunburn while at the same time putting on a show of ultimate saltiness for the patrons of my daily adventures.  The pauses to tell sea stories refresh me and, I am quite certain, fatten the eventual tip pot. One fun day, the maintenance task was climbing aloft, harnessed and gloved, in order to slather the mast with Vaseline.  Too perfect. The job in Niantic took a turn for the miserable.  There’s nothing like being loaded down with meaningless office work shoved off by a bossy lackey who can’t perform her own job, while at the same time being expected to cut through the cloud of hateful negativity generated by the born-again[…]

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