posted 11-24-2004 11:32 AM ET (US)            

I thought it was interesting that another member pointed out in another thread that "unsinkable" has different degrees on different sized boats. Does the Cosat Guard speak of this in the class? Some will always have freeboard, and others can sink in the stern but always have the bow above water. Maybe I'm missing an article in the reference section.

posted 11-24-2004 01:57 PM ET (US)            

Okay, here's a tentative first verse: Feel free to add to it, or suggest alternative lyrics:

(Sung to the tune of "Oh My Darling Clementine"):

posted 11-24-2004 02:07 PM ET (US)            

Tony

posted 11-24-2004 02:26 PM ET (US)            

"Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made:
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them,--ding-dong, bell."

(I can't remember whether that little ditty is by Bob Marley or Jimmy Buffet, but never mind since I guess it's not really appropriate for the unsinkable Whaler.)

posted 11-24-2004 02:38 PM ET (US)            

Tales of the South Pacific...ah, don't get me started.

I have never yet seen a photograph that does justice to the beauty of the islands.

When I lived there, I traveled amongst the islands via freighters that also carried people. You could roll out a mat and sleep on the (covered) deck for about $14.00. The trip commenced in Papeete, Tahiti at 5 pm and we arrived in Tapuamu, Tahaa about 9 am the next morning, after stops in Fare, Huahine and Uturoa, Raiatea. It was a cheap, charming means of travel, provided you could hold your breath long enough to use the head. It also helped if you didn't think too much about the name of the ship. I usually took the Taporo IV. Taporo is Tahitian for "lemon."

Most tourists would fly between the islands, so the ship was mostly filled with locals. One would bring sandwiches, drinks, and so on for the voyage, but the roulottes (food trucks, but much better than what you'd find at a "roach coach" in the USA) would set up at each port and you could disembark and buy a steak frite for about $7, barbecued right there at the dock. The mamas who ran the trucks would be there at Fare at 2 am with their grills all ready to go.

I contracted dengue fever on my first visit to the South Pacific. On my way back to Papeete from Tapuamu, I was really, really sick. Three young Tahitian men had purchased a "cabin" on the freighter with bunks. When they saw how sick I was, they vacated the cabin and insisted that I sleep in a berth there. One or another of them checked on me throughout the voyage and brought me water. It was amazing.

Maybe this isn't the kind of story you'd like. Tell me what you want to hear about--I'll do my best.

posted 11-24-2004 05:05 PM ET (US)            

yes I own a Whaler boat
it slides across the sea
some folks say I'm part of it and I know
it's part of me

when I'm feeling solitare
it helps me be alone
and when I want to have a taste
it carries me back home

The song is on Living & Dying in 3/4 Time. I've seen old video footage of him tooling around Key West harbor in a 13 sport back in the early 70's when he penned this tune, back before he could afford his big sailing yachts.

posted 11-24-2004 06:26 PM ET (US)            

That is really a great verse for Whaler owners - really hits home. Think I'll make a fancy copy, frame it and place on wall.

Sheila,

posted 11-24-2004 08:46 PM ET (US)            

Yes, I am a Parrot Head.

posted 11-24-2004 08:47 PM ET (US)            

My wife's brother is a koa wood luthier who has lived on Kauai for the past thirty-five years. He and his wife raised their three girls, my nieces Imai, Pomai, and Luka, there, and my family owns a nice piece of land with his in Anahola. We get over there just about every year (in fact, I recently ran a thread discussing my now-aborted fantasy of running an inshore Whaler-oriented fishing business on the island). But that's as far as I've ever ventured into the South Pacific, and another retirement fantasy (certainly not very original, but it'll probably happen if I keep my health for the next couple of years 'til my daughter is off at college) is cruising (in a sailboat, alas, not a Whaler!) from California down Baja, over to the Marquesas, then Tahiti, eventually New Zealand and maybe all the way around. So I'm an armchair addict with a serious South Pacific jones...please may I have some more?

posted 11-24-2004 10:10 PM ET (US)            

Okay, Tony, let's hop over to Fiji.

I was a guest in the small village on the island of Naigani. If I recall correctly, 57 people lived there. I had brought the customary gift of kava root, which I'd purchased in Suva, as a gift to the chief. His acceptance would indicate that I was welcome to stay.

This island had no electricity, and at the time, Fiji had no broadcast television. The generator was down while I was there, so our evenings were lit by lanterns and moonlight.

The evening of my arrival, my hosts took me to the chief's house, where my kava was presented and accepted. Later that evening I was invited to drink kava with the men.

Ladies are expected to sit on the floor with their feet pointing off to one side. Men sit cross legged. I took a seat on the floor in the corner. Not being habituated to sitting on the floor with my feet pointing off to one side, I would periodically shift my feet to the other side. I was often invited to come sit on a chair, closer to the chief. For me to have done so would have indicated that I had no idea of my proper status and place in the group, so I politely declined.

When we'd been there for a few hours, and I'd shifted my feet to the other side a few times, one of them men told me I could stretch my legs out straight in front of me. I knew this gesture is considered rude, so I politely declined, saying,
"I'm fine, don't worry."

From another corner of the room, a Fijian man who'd been nodding, to the point where I thought he was asleep, chimed in: "Don't worry, be happy!"

posted 11-25-2004 01:32 PM ET (US)            

I studied anthropology in school. My undergraduate department was full of Melanesianists (mostly PNG, but a few other places, too), so I was familiar with Oceania, but I wanted to work elsewhere for my own research.

In the summer of 1989 I made a "site selection" trip. I spent a bit of time in Fiji, then went to Western Samoa, then on to French Polynesia. (Fiji is geographically part of Melanesia, but culturally Polynesian, by the way. And it's the only place I've been where Americans are typically seen as quite polite. I believe it's because they're close enough to Australia to serve as Australia's "Hawaii," and Aussies may be the only folks who are more boisterous on holiday than Americans.)

In the summer of 1990 I returned to French Polynesia (specifically Tahaa, in the Leeward Islands of the Society Archipelago) for 3 months. In the fall of 1991 I returned again, then came home in June, 1992.

Why did I choose French Polynesia, you may ask?

First, my research question was dealing with the construction of ethnic identity in colonial settings. Fiji and W. Samoa were both already independent at that time (trivia: Western Samoa was the first South Pacific colony to achieve independence, from Britain, in 1962), while FP is still under French control.

Second, my daughter, who was 9 during my fieldwork year, was to accompany me for some of the time, and Fiji was just a few years out of a coup. I was willing to take certain risks with myself, but not with her.

posted 11-25-2004 03:29 PM ET (US)            

I guess he forgets boaters buy his music not manatees.

posted 11-25-2004 03:39 PM ET (US)            

Sorry, I guess we're off track here, Sheila. To be continued, I hope, and Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

posted 11-25-2004 09:44 PM ET (US)            

I was torn between anthropology and mathematics as an undergraduate--and ended up studying mathematics.

When I was nearing the end of my doctoral research I asked my supervisor about his thoughts about the profession (he, incidentally, had his doctorate in theoretical physics). He said, "I have always though of mathematics as a wonderful hobby. I am fortunate to earn my living at it."

With that in mind (and mindful of the migrant worker status the good lady mentioned), I went into industry doing systems engineering and now find myself in a position where I can do mathematics with a bit of cultural anthropology on the side.

Go figure.

The nice thing about Whalers is that they seem to attract some very interesting people (we have been through this before).

My current favorite Whaler tune is also a Buffet ditty: "Beachhouse on the Moon." The boat has taught me a lot.

posted 11-26-2004 04:42 AM ET (US)            

And thank you, dear Moderator, for not deleting my off-thread postings.

Should any of you ever plan to visit this amazing spot on our planet, do not hesitate to email me first if you'd like more information about the place, the people, stuff like that. I'm not real good at hotel suggestions, though--I stay with kin when I'm there.

posted 11-28-2004 06:09 PM ET (US)            

I took off for a weekend last month
Just to try and recall the whole year.
All of the faces and all of the places,
wonderin' where they all disappeared.
I didn't ponder the question too long;
I was hungry and went out for a bite.
Ran into a chum with a bottle of rum,
and we wound up drinkin' all night.

It's those changes in latitudes,
changes in attitudes nothing remains quite the same.
With all of our running and all of our cunning,
If we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane.

[Chorus:]
These changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes,
Nothing remains quite the same.
Through all of the islands and all of the highlands,
If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane

Reading departure signs in some big airport
Reminds me of the places I've been.
Visions of good times that brought so much pleasure
Makes me want to go back again.
If it suddenly ended tomorrow,
I could somehow adjust to the fall.
Good times and riches and son of a bitches,
I've seen more than I can recall

[Chorus]

I think about Paris when I'm high on red wine,
I wish I could jump on a plane.
And so many nights I just dream of the ocean.
God, I wish I was sailin' again.
Oh, yesterdays are over my shoulder,
So I can't look back for too long.
There's just too much to see waiting in front of me,
and I know that I just can't go wrong
with these...

-----------------

Seems to capture the gist of all of this.

posted 11-28-2004 09:58 PM ET (US)            

Now here's one right on point, with the addition of just one tiny little letter (see if you can figure out what that letter is):

"I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whaler's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over."
--apologies to John Masefield

posted 11-29-2004 06:50 PM ET (US)            

OK, I think your latest post represents 51% of the people.

En Francais? Hmmmmmmm.

posted 11-29-2004 07:39 PM ET (US)            

And 2manyboats: As I warned myself even before I read the translation of your timeless prose, "Watch out, Tony...you're dealing with a real wordsmith here, a man who can make a phrase spin around like a Montauk hard over full throttle; no chine-walker this dude!" Well, I should have listened to my own admonition, and now I've gotta pay the price. The only response which in any way approximates the wit, depth, and rapier-like intelligence of your remark is, pax vobis, my angry friend.

posted 11-30-2004 10:01 AM ET (US)            

Tight lines and happy holidaze, all,

posted 12-05-2004 10:31 AM ET (US)            

I had a 1/4" of ice stick to my kicker when I put the boat on the trailer yesterday. A cold run. O for .. Some Beach Somewhere...