On Sat, 15 Apr 2006 00:20:53 GMT, Shortwave Sportfishing
wrote:

April 14, 2006

Somewhere in the North Atlantic

Whaling season started this week, so Scooter and I headed to Norway to
join some of our Greenpeace friends in protest against this barbaric
event. One of these friends is my buddy "Cappy," and he graciously
offered the use of his old 75-foot trawler he uses for ecological
tours. We were touched by his generosity, and looked forward to an
effective protest.

We arrived at Sandefjord and proceeded to the docks where we met up
with Cappy. His boat "Sea Slug" wasn't the most beautiful vessel
there, but it was adequate for our needs. Cappy had already hung some
big Greenpeace banners on the ship's sides that really looked cool and
covered up a lot of rust. I sent Scooter out to buy a bunch of ketchup
(to represent blood) for us to fling at the whaling ships. This
blood-flinging thing is always very dramatic and the press loves it.
Unfortunately it turned out the Norwegians aren't big on ketchup, so
Scooter brought back 200 gallons of cocktail sauce instead. Close
enough, I guess.

The next morning we weighed anchor and headed out to the hunting area.
The sun was shining, the seas were fairly mild, and we were in high
spirits, especially Cappy. Several times I noticed him pouring
something from a flask into his coffee, and by ten o'clock his quiet
demeanor had given way to loud farting and belching, obnoxious
cursing, and unsteadiness. Later Scooter noticed we were going in
circles, and after reaching the bridge, we found Cappy draped over the
wheel, passed-out drunk. When we tried to carry him back to his cabin,
he suddenly woke up, started screaming about pirates, and struck
Scooter several times before we could restrain him with some rope.
Great. After putting Cappy in his room, Scooter took the wheel, but
only after we agreed to address him as "Admiral Scooter." Jeez.

Just after noon we came upon our first whaling ship. Its crew had
apparently speared a whale and had a line around its tail, preparing
to haul it aboard. I told Admiral Scooter to bring us in close so we
could maybe snag the line with something and release the poor whale.
Scooter was doing a horrible job steering the ship and I was yelling
commands at him, which just seemed to make him more tense. Right about
this time Cappy fell out of his cabin bellowing, "UNTIE ME, DAMNIT!"
to which Admiral Scooter replied, "RAM IT, AYE AYE, SIR" and he
steered right into the side of the huge ship, creating a nasty gash
at its waterline! I noticed an oil slick spreading from the damaged
area and wondered how much insurance Cappy carried. Lots, I hoped.

While Admiral Pinhead searched for reverse, I went to untie Cappy so
he could get us out of there. With a barely-functioning Cappy at the
wheel, Scooter and I ran to find something we could use to free the
poor whale. I got a knife from the galley and was tying it to a pole
when I heard Scooter yell. "I've got it!" I came around the corner
just in time to see him fire a flare gun at the line.

You can probably guess the rest. The line was partially severed and
the few remaining strands were ablaze and probably would have burned
through, releasing the now-struggling mammal. Unfortunately, the first
flaming ember that fell to the water produced a loud "FROOOM!!!" as
the oil, ship, and of course, the whale caught fire. Oh crap! Scooter
made a last desperate attempt to save the creature by dumping the
cocktail sauce over it. While it doused the flames, it sadly wasn't
soon enough to save the poor thing.

The large oil spill, coupled with the loss of the whaling ship and its
43 crew members was indeed a tragedy, and I'll probably never forget
the sizzling sound that whale made as it cooked in that horrible
fire.The good news was it turned out to be surprisingly tender and
juicy, and the cocktail sauce added just enough "zing" to mask the
fuel oil taste. I guess things could have been worse.

Sounds like something Dewey Lambdin would write!

Good story. Thanks!
--
'Til next time,

John H

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