I am a professional napper...
Saturday, December 12, Stocking Island, Exuma Cays   N 23°31.3'  W 75°41.7'
 

Jack here again…


BTW, Bob the Whacko, still steers the boat but he’s having more problems shifting between a pair of UV sunglasses which he claims are best for ‘reading the water’ and reading glasses for ‘reading the chart’. I’ll keep to ‘sniffing the shoreline’; there being nothing to sniff on a chart except his spilled ketchup stains…his T-shirt’s getting pretty ripe.
Anyway, he’ll run out of glasses soon at the rate he rolls over and crushes them at night, after putting his book down opened to the same page for weeks. But then he is not a professional napper…not a professional sleep artist as am I.

      

We’ll get back to sleeping positions, sleeping patterns; but first get this…he is trying to put glasses on me…calls it a snorkel mask; and then massive rubber booties called fins. AIS…as I said…simply whacko.

He hopes to catch fish or spear lobsters once outside this beautiful Exuma Park where sadly dogs must be leashed and only allowed on beaches. I did see one over populating ‘endangered’ and thus ‘protected’ rat on the island called a “hutia”; an infestation problem I’d solve in one night ashore unleashed.
Catching fish…I may be on the only boat approaching Georgetown not to have caught a single fish. Not a single fish! BTW’s got the lures, the lines, the leaders…but he don’t got de fish. Does he expect me to wear this ‘snorkel mask’ and ‘fins’ for fun (forget it!) or as a decoy as he lures ‘the fish’? Reminds me of another whacko Ahab, aka Captain Gregory Peck, seeking a white whale. Anyway…he’s drunk Mim’s vodka, so even if he caught the fish, he couldn’t kill it with alcohol…that would be a job for Jack…Jack the Nipper. Get me a real fisherman and I’d clean his Mahi-mahi, his Grouper, his lobster…sending me back into my professional role as Jack the Napper.

Bob here again…
He’s right; not about the fish (I mean I just haven’t had the spare time!!); but about ‘napping’. He has tried every single cushion on the boat, head sideways, head upside down, curled in a ball, stretched to his maximum…and he’ll sleep in that position from minutes to hours…usually until I move whereupon “Suction Cup” moves too…his new nickname since Nancy left for home and work. Nancy, or Mim as Kathryn and I now call her, has her favorite previously private pillow at the head of our bunk. That seems to be his mecca…the top five also including Port Love Seat, aft Starboard midships, or under my 5AM feet at settee. ‘Resting his Head across your Feet’ or ‘Warm Sunshine’ are preferred themes…those two combined culminates in coma.

 

Adding up my nap time plus night sleeping time…well maybe I won’t put that to ink yet…but his total down time recently approaches 20 hours in a 24 hour day (the rest being eating, private tramp time, dinghy time, and beach time),…that’s usual down time for a Labrador but not a Jack Russell. I expect camped out and mostly leashed at the Georgetown Volleyball University next to the Chat ‘n Chil beach bar, he’ll be more active being more appreciated by university students…entrance requirements being >50 years of age…>15 pounds overweight…>5 cruising yarns, real or make-believe…>1 Kalik beer per day, the preferred Bahamian brew.
Addendum to our readers: It has been more than 3 weeks without Internet or WiFi, and as such no Snippets Yesterday posts; posts with photos. One correctly assumes reading the above, we have collections of Jack photos waiting to go online; meanwhile we settle for “if no WiFi” posts over SSB HF radio

 

 

 

 

 

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