"Thom Stewart" wrote in message ...
No fun anymore,Neal;
You're changed that.



I never thought I'd hear Ole Thom tossing in the towel. But, he's not the only one.

Capt. Neal used to call this group a bunch of wannabes and it turns out he was
correct. You have no mettle. You cannot ride out a storm, You are too quick to
turn tail and run. What a bunch of cry babies. Such fair weather sailors.

I am transcribing a paragraph or two from Hayden's novel "Voyage" in the hopes
it will demonstrate to you how a real captain and sailor refuses to knuckle under.

Would that you understood anything less than the spirit and determination
displayed by Capt. Irons Saul Pendleton in his battle with Cape Horn, is not
enough and not worthy of a real sailor.

"Irons Saul Pendleton sat by his rolltop desk and tugged at an
ear as he studied page 25 of his letter to Blanchard and Company.
Two weeks' growth of matted black beard clung to a face reddened
by wind and sleet. His eyes began to close. He slapped himself hard
across the jowls with his left hand, then plowed ahead with the writing:

"So, like I said a bit ago, and I guess you can imagine how sick it
makes me to say it, this has got to be about the hardest chance any
of the fleet has had at least in all my recollection. It's been thirty-
three days now we've been off the Horn and no letup in sight. I've
not had a peak at Old Sol in a week or ten days. Figure my
position as about 67° 30' west; 57° south which will show you when
little Lemual S. puts it up on the chart that what I have now is Cape
Horn bearing due north magnetic - and 60 miles distant.

"Three days back got clear west of 69° and south of the Diego
Ramirez, and aha, thinks I, this time she's going free. But wouldn't
you know it, down comes another snorter fit to blow the sugar out
of the coffee, and here I am back where I was ten days ago. It's
enough to discourage a man.

"Took a squint though my directory trying to learn what was the
longest haul in the record book, and nearly as I can tell it goes to
old Carteret in HMS Swallow, and he was shilly-shallying around
down here for fifty-one days. But the Swallow and the Neptune's
Car is two different breed of horse, and I can tell you I feel some
bad about the whole mess.

"Saw three ships in the course of the past two days. Too far off
to make my number. . . All three homeward bounders going before it
like striped-assed apes headed for the she-apes' swimming hole. Have
been reading my seed catalogue again and see where if you plant
poinsettias now in good loam, they'll be in first-class shape for
Christmas. Wish I was most anywheres other than here, even out in
Chicago, which, it just come to me, is where you will be about now if
there's been no change of plans. But, come to think of it, I don't
guess I'd last long listening to them wizards say what was wrong
with the country. There's nothing wrong with this country that a
little hard work won't cure. Not where I've been at least.

"No change to speak of in the Hot Coals Dept. You'll be glad to
hear that, I know. Had a little scare sometime back when Mr. Mate
reported the foremast seemed to be settling since there was slack in
the shrouds and backstays. That brought me out some fast, I tell
you. Found out it was only a matter of some throat seizings aloft
having spread. That and stretch due to the awful punishment the
gear is taking straight along. Had ten of the best men aboard aloft
for nine straight hours. Including both mates. Including me too for
a time, when they said they was getting chilly.

"This will conclude it for now. hope for better news next time.
Am 100 days out. Imagine! I feel sick. Give my regards to Harry
Clayton."

See what I'm talking about?

Respectfully,
Capt. Neal
~~~~~~~~~~~~~