The King is Coming

At the BBQ thrown for us last night, the constant question we received was, "What are you going to do when you get off the Marlin?" Several of our crew have other plans in mind other than the sea; Bly is going to work in the intelligence industry and hopefully for someone who appreciates his super-human strength; Harrison is going to work with fish. I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do next, but this is the question a career sailor hates. I could just see Kip bulking up his shoulders, inwardly thinking, "Here we go again." And then answering as he always did, "I'm a tall ship sailor."

A middle-aged guy at the party talked about managing the IT for a local company that runs background searches through giant databases. No one asked him what he's going to do next. Maybe we should have.

You never know. People can reinvent themselves. With a little self-marketing and determination.

The only question is really at what point does it become some elaborate con, like the one perpetrated by the man Isabel and I met in Mexico five years ago who tried to convince us he needed a plane ticket home? That he was working for Price Waterhouse on assignment with Ericsson and had been robbed of all his belongings?

At what point does reinvention turn you into someone else? Would you know if you started to fall for your own delusions?

Roll out the red carpet, or, erm, gangway?
This morning when I woke, the sunrise was illuminating the battleship and the bridges across the river, giving the whole scene a kind of floating effect, like they had detached themselves from the rest of the landscape. A flock of gulls few over me in a "W' shape and as I walked to use the shore head (tourist information booth restroom), I could hear a broken video game erupting in blasts like a broken record. I felt like the Last Starfighter being called into action.

Today the head of our organization is coming for a visit. I will call him The King. This is how it feels – like we are preparing for a royal visit. I've got my soles shined; my countertops bleached; my stove up and running; and I've prepared two great meals.

Tomorrow (dun-dutta-da!), our regular captain arrives.

And on Tuesday we sail for Beaufort. It's going to be an exciting few days.

As Ira Glass would say: All this when our program continues. Stay with us.

Chipotle deviled eggs, all dressed up for the party.

Wednesday's Menu
Breakfast
Pitta panne and eggs, over
Lunch
pasta primavera with salad
Dinner
NC style BBq (pulled pork sandwich)
Baked beans; glazed carrots ; asparagus spears with lemon and parm
Dessert
7-Layer Bars (photos in next post)

Skeleton Crew

Kip, as seen just days before his departure.

When I put breakfast on the table, I often ask if anything is missing. Butter? Hot sauce? Syrup? This morning in response, Bly piped up in his Eeyore voice, "Kip. Kip is missing."

Tuesday's Menu
Breakfast
Sausage gravy and biscuits
Lunch
Build-your-own soft tacos with leftover chili, retried beans, leftover pork, rice, lettuce, sour cream and more...
Dinner
A BBQ hosted by our sponsors in Wilmington! I made deviled eggs for the occasion with chipotle and cinnamon, mustard, olive oil and mayo.

Out of the Shackles, One Foot Still on Sea

Like clockwork I awoke this morning at 6:30. Typical. Mondays are my only days off.

But as today is Kip's last day, I scrambled to do some grocery shopping during shower time last night so I could make him a smoothie this morning. (Like a top chef assignment, I ran madly through the aisles, nearly rolling over old ladies in my quest to get $190-worth of groceries in 30 minutes.)

Bly on the bowsprit, applying pine tar.

Naturally, as I began to take out the ingredients this morning, a small crowd soon gathered in the galley. It was like they all had antennas attuned to the word, "Smoothie." I mixed up berries, coconut, yogurt, milk, banana, vanilla and a two small lavender leaves. It was delicious.

Great find: I decided to buy an apron in every port. 

This one I found at Second Time Around in Wilmington. 

It actually has tall ships on it!

Me, enjoying my first pickled egg.

Then I went off on my own - to do this - and to walk the streets of Wilmington.

A few great finds 

On our first day here,  a man and his two daughters stood watching me from the deck. Two adorable, big-eyed little girls. They asked me what I was making. At that moment I was about to punch down a big bowl of dough. I love this part. I still emulate the drawing in The Enchanted Broccoli Forrest whenever I do this: “Thwap!” Mollie Katzen also told me in that section that a good dough should be soft as a baby’s bottom. So when the girls walked around the cabin top and came back again, without their dad, I asked them if they wanted to touch the dough, and I told them what Mollie said it should feel like. They giggled.  Then the oldest sheepishly held out a pamphlet with a drawing of Jesus on the front. And the Dad appeared again and told me to look it over. This town might be the most overtly religious place I’ve ever been. The music program on the stage beside the boat was almost solidly gospel. The volunteer that drove us to our hotel the first night invited us to his church on Sunday. The police chief’s last name is Evangelous. I kid you not. 

But I like this town. Everyone is really chill. There is a lack of pretentiousness and an earnestness that makes the religious overatures somehow palatable.  

My sushi lunch.

The man at the antique store gave me a great deal on some old iron bookends with tall ships on them; two rings and a pillbox. And the girl at the coffee shop let me sit for hours on her couch, fixing the mistakes in this post.

Monday's Menu

Breakfast

Smoothies

Leftover brownies and pickled eggs

Lunch

Sushi and saki

Dinner

TBD

Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo

Soba noodle salad.

“There’s nothing I can't stand more than people who say they’re bored,” said Bly. We stood talking at an Irish bar - all seven of us, except Cap who was left behind to watch the ship - drinking whiskeys and bidding Kip farewell. 

Bly has a bucket list backed up on a server somewhere that includes climbing Everest, and a dozen other super achievement s that he listed off last night. You might wonder if there is a personality type on board – like my father did, when he tried to size up the crew by asking their birth order. But Kip doesn’t have a bucket list; he didn’t know what one was. When I told him it was a list of things to do before he died, and what was on his, he said, “To live.” Some of us are list-makers; some of us aren’t. Some of us are career sailors; others of us are just passing through.

While taking our hotel run for showers Saturday night, Smith turned on the TV. The Perfect Catch was on. This was the third time she’d watched this same segment’ my second. I heard the same guy blabbing on about his brother’s drug problem and sounding allthewhile like a bad actor. I sat in the other room, futilely trying to fix the problems with this blog when I heard the guy say, “I’ve never had a crew not come together this late in the season.”

That was something I could empathize with him about. It made me ponder yet again over this wondrous thing we call a crew. When Kip leaves tomorrow, we will just adjust and go on – but his having been here, among us, will have changed us all some.

The right ingredients

When I was sleeping with my feet to the bow, it was Kip that told me that they used to store corpses that way. Because of him, next time I make hummus, I’m going to try cider vinegar. And when he’s gone the conversations will be slightly different and the jokes slightly different.

The crew on the Neverland was larger, making it more forgiving. Some crews are even larger. You could hide in a crew of twenty. Your inadequacies might be overlooked. Strange behaviors  could go unseen. Not on the Marlin. With only eight of us, any cracks would pretty quickly divide us.

I remember Zeke, the engineer on the Neverland, telling me that this whole thing of throwing a bunch of people into the mix was his favorite part of the job. Like putting a bunch of random ingredients in a pot. Put ‘em together and what have you got? Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo. 

Dill, Cilantro and Lavender

On Saturday, Smith came back to the boat with a bundle of fresh herbs. I potted them and hung them in the hammock in the galley where I was keeping tomatoes. How cool to have fresh cilantro in a salad?  When the old cook said he never bought fresh herbs because of the cost, I silently scoffed. But each week I make a grocery list, I write: mint, or basil or cilantro, and they are always the first frivolousness to go once I get to the market and realize I’ll barely afford the basics.


Sunday’s Menu

New rice salad

Breakfast
Dutch Baby for Kip, and bacon
Lunch
Salads from the last couple of days, plus a new rice salad and soba noodle salad; bread and ham and lettuce for sandwiches
Dinner
I remember telling the captain of the Neverland that every 18-20 meals or so, I would screw up. They would be edible, but not great. Tonight was that meal. I really screwed up the pork roast. A big piece of meat. It wasn’t thoroughly defrosted inside, so it cooked unevenly. I’ve decided I much prefer cooking with fatty meats when they are that large. I find it just such a pain to try and control the cooking process. Overcooked pork is just not nice. Plus, although I smothered it in a spicy green tomatillo salsa, it absorbed none of the flavor. I have no idea why. Fortunately, I put out the rice salad; and a regular green salad. I also made a side dish of green beans with onions cooked in bacon fat and topped with toasted, candied almonds. And served bread in a pot, out of the pot.
Dessert
Brownies, which I forgot to put in the oven, but which I made later, after our grocery run.

New rice salad

Two cups Uncle Ben’s

1/4 c. – 1/2 c. lemon juice

2 Tbs. olive oil

1/2 c. feta cheese, crumbled

1/4-1/2 c. chopped parsley

1/8 c. toasted pine nuts

Salt and pepper to taste

Measurements are NOT exact, again, this is just me messing around, so be careful and add or subtract to taste and to balance the ingredients.

I am an Island

Natives at the Azalea Parade.

Today more than 2700 visitors walked across our deck. It was a zoo. We were the animals. People were constantly assailing me: "What are you making?" "Mmmm. Smells good!" "Look, it's a kitchen!" and the uber-annoying middle-aged men who lean in over their kids' head and say, "Hey, can I get a cheeseburger and some fries?"

Today one little girl stopped to peer in and was particularly chatty.

"You get lonely?" she asked right off the bat.

"No," I said. "I like being alone. When I took this job I was actually worried about never getting to be alone."

"You get to cook whatever you want?"

"Yep."

"You get to go out and haul on the sails, too?"

"Sometimes. When I get all my work done."

"You got kids?"

"Nope."

"Wow," she said with a sigh. "You really have it all."

I chuckled. Most of the time it feels like I do. Most of the time I tell people that I have landed the best job ever. But sometimes I wonder if I'm running.

When I interviewed with Captain Wright for the job on the Neverland, I told him that one of my main concerns was the lack of privacy. "I've lived alone for eight years," I said. "How do you get away?"
Funny thing is, after my parents' left I saw myself in their eyes. I had to ask myself if, lacking a family of my own, maybe part of the reason I'm here is to be part of this "family." The follow-up question was: Is that okay? Is it okay if what I'm doing is trying to escape the fact that I don't have what most of my friends have – a house, a husband, kids?

Jamaican stew, salad and bread.

Moving parts
Tomorrow is Kip's last day. It seems to have come out of the blue. I asked him if he wanted me to make anything special for our meals. He said a Dutch Baby and smoothies for breakfast. Done.

His leaving feels odd to me, like we're losing a family member. Yet, like a little floating organism losing a few atoms, we will adjust and move on. By Thursday our regular captain will return to her post, and the organism will shift its cells again, assimilate. Expunge, absorb. Expunge, absorb. It doesn't make change sound all that difficult.

"We don't like change," Captain Wright once told me. He was referring to the uniform, I think, my short shorts; and the fact that I was wearing Five Finger shoes instead of sandals. At the time it struck me as a funny statement for a sailor to make – because change on a boat is constant and all around you.

Saturday's Menu

Breakfast

Swedish hash (pitti panne) with potatoes, ham and beets; scrambled eggs
Lunch

Chili and a Build-Your-Own Sandwich buffet with caramelized onions; leftover mashed potatoes; Aleppo pepper hummus; regular hummus; apple compote; ham; lettuce
Dinner

Jamaican stew on mashed potatoes; salad with toasted pine nuts, dried cherries and celery
Dessert

The crew asked what they were called and I said I guess I'd sort of invented them, so I didn't know. "C. Cook's Bars?" I joked. "Or maybe: Caramel Graham Bars?" "C. Cook's Bars is much better," they agreed. So it is.

C. Cook's Bars

2 cups ground graham crackers
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup butter
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2- 3/4 cup lightly salted peanuts, chopped
1/2 cup chocolate chips

Spread graham crumbs into greased baking pan. Melt sugar and butter until boiling; remove from heat; add vanilla; stir. Press into pan with flat spatula. Sprinkle peanuts and chocolate chips on top and press into crust. Bake at 350 for 10 minutes. Transfer someplace to cool. (I used the freezer to speed up the process.) Cut into bars.

Oh, How Great is the Lord, How Mysterious His Ways

Bly's salad - unusually compartmentalized. 

The gospel singers are singing ... just a little later than the schedule said they would. They are really belting it out, and it feels like one of those church services that is never going to end. But they are not bad. Maybe the first good singers all day. And this is a surprisingly good thing - since it is keeping me awake long enough to scribble a few words about our first day in Wilmington.

As the day got underway, it seemed like the town was populated mainly by the mentally retarded and the totally insane. The folks getting on the boat were seriously strange. Then as the day went on, there were people attending reunions on the battleship across the way and retirees and families that weren't all cracked. One man even left us two bottles of his rum sauce. I'm not sure what to do with it, but it looks delicious... and it's made, coincidentally, with rum from St. Croix.

Kip's plate: four out of five.

The stove that keeps on giving
I spent a good few hours with Old Deez (my stove), but halfway through cleaning, I hit the bottom of her fire chamber thing with a screwdriver, and the fan came on! The fan should not just suddenly come on. It should come on when I turn it on. This may have been the source of the problem when I tried to light it on our outgoing trip from Savannah.


Eve is now working on the issue. First she found a new motor, but when she tried to attach it found that it did not match the current - though not original - fittings. So the stove is still not running - which is fine with me given our lovely southern clime.


Interconnectivity
If you read back into the earlier postings of my story, you'll learn about my adventures onboard the Neverland, and my pal Huck. This morning I woke to find a message from Huck's mom. She wrote to say that she would be in Wilmington for 24 hours and wanted to meet up!


So I have just come back from a few hours spent getting to know her and her friend over margaritas. It was really lovely. She reminded me of him so much. The eyes. It was a little disconcerting. And sure made me miss the guy.

Five-salad buffet.

Friday's Menu

Breakfast
Dutch Baby with Apple Compote
Lunch
Five salads: Simple egg salad with homemade mayo; carrot and maple vinaigrette; kidney bean and celery; fetasmic couscous (see recipe below); pasta salad with tomatoes and parm
Dinner
Spaghetti bolognese for the meat-eaters, marinera for the vegetarian; fresh baked french bread with plates of olive oil for dipping and leftover salads.
Dessert
Peanut butter and jelly cupcakes: http://allrecipes.com//Recipe/peanut-butter-muffins/Detail.aspx


Fetasmic Couscous
Often, when asked for my recipes, it gets a little complicated. Most of the time I'm improvising, and without recipe testing, cannot give exact amounts. But what I can give is a guide. This one would be worth trying to follow - the salad was a huge hit.


Make 3 cups of couscous, to feed 8 people.
Take a big chunk of feta cheese and cut and crumble until it looks balanced with the couscous.
Roast a handful of walnuts in a dry skillet (careful not to burn!).
Add leftover apple compote from breakfast, to balance (careful not to add too much) (see recipe below). Blend in sweet chili sauce. Start with a half cup, with one-two T soy sauce and 1-3 T balsamic vinegar (I got to my ratio by using the last of the sweet chili sauce, then pouring some soy sauce and balsamic into the jar, adding a little water, shaking it and then dressing the salad with this mixture...)
Salt and pepper to taste.

PBJ in dessert form.

Apple Compote

Four granny smith apples
One cup water
One cup sugar
Pinch of salt
Big pinches of cinnamon, nutmeg and cardamom
Cook thirty minutes.

Wilmington, Hurrah!

Bly, who our gunner, calling out as he lights the next round of shot.

I made my first real gaff in the blog and accidentally deleted the entry for this day. That's what I get for working on it at midnight. I fell asleep typing several times. 

So in an attempt to recall that day...

We entered the shipping lanes early in the morning. The winds were still up so much that Cap said we probably could've sailed up the river rather than motored - but we had to be there at a specific time in accordance with our planned Grand Arrival. 

Motor-sailing to Wilmington.

It was a Grand arrival of sorts - we exchanged a cannon salute with a guy onshore who really got into it, with period-garb and such. The Fire Department came out on their boat, looking like a giant fountain as they spritzed us with their hoses. And when we got to the dock, it was lined with people.

Unfortunately, the dock was not lined with fenders. Nor was it floating. So we had quite a challenging time trying to protect the wooden hull and match it up with the pilings, taking into account the changing tides. Smith did a very good job keenly assessing the scenario and insisting on small alterations that paid off down the line.

I had to come out and help with fenders as we docked,but managed to put together a sandwich buffet in between activities. It was the first Build-Your-Own meal I'd put together I think, and it was a big hit. They really loved all the odd toppings and customized as they saw fit.


I can't recall much of that night, except that we were exhausted. A volunteer picked us up after dinner and escorted us to our hotel, which was nine miles away. Seven of us packed into his minivan and took a little over two hours to shower. While everyone else showered, I typed this entry... though little good it did me, since I promptly deleted it. Trying to piece things together a few days later, I needed the help of three of my fellow crewmembers to remember what I made! Just think: it's my job - I spend hours on it.. yet they can recall it better than I. Perhaps this is age-related?

Rigby, enjoying his sandwich.

Thursday's Menu

Breakfast

Dutch baby with apple compote

Lunch

Ham sandwich buffet, with lettuce, green apple slices, blue cheese, caramelized onions and more though I can't remember all what)

Dinner

Ham and scalloped potatoes with salad and cornbread

Dessert

Chocolate cupcakes

Sandwich buffet.

Full Day at Sea

Sunset at sea. There's nothing quite like it. Except maybe sunrise at sea.

This post has been back-dated since we did not have cell phone coverage during transit.

The first whole day at sea was exhausting. I didn't take pills of any type, thinking highly of my own natural immunity to seasickness. I never barfed, but I was nauseous as hell for most of the day. It was like being in a stupor. Around dinner time Kip asked how I was and I told him. He suggested that I take some Bonine and brought it up from the head for me and sat it on the countertop. I swear I felt better in 15 minutes. I wondered if it was psychological. Kip came back in an hour later and as I turned around and made eye contact with him, he said, "Yep, it's taken affect."

I guess it was obvious. I have to say, it was all I could do to stay awake and motivated to make meals for the crew. Much less stow my Sam's Club purchases or plan meals for the week. I was making meals without any planning, just based on what I could use from the fridge and make the fastest, since I was not planning ahead.

Smith, at dusk, calling commands out to the sailors.

Right before dinner we were twelve miles out to sea, the wind kicked up when we thought it would die, doing seven knots in winds that were 10-15, gusting to 20. Smith asked if I wanted to come out and help raise sails. Duh.

After dinner I sat in the entrance to the galley and looked up at a beautiful, crystal-clear night.

Wednesday's Menu
Breakfast
Ham and English muffins
Lunch
Corn chowder and biscuits
(I finally mastered biscuits - I used cream this time instead of milk; but the main thing: I didn't roll out the dough. I used my hand to pound the dough out after folding it, and then cut it into pretty thick rounds.)
Dinner
Beef stroganoff, roasted root vegetables and couscous for the vegetarian
Dessert
Chocolate chip oat muffins

Underway again

This is what I've been longing for - we're finally sailing. I mean, really sailing. We only have three sails up, but we're making good time. I started the day by spending some QT with Big Dz (my diesel stove). No chance of getting a run in, though I did have to go on a short walk to buy milk.

We had an hour or so of safety training and then departed Savannah at about 11:30 am. Shortly thereafter we fired our cannons on Fort Jackson, which guards the river, and I fed the crew lunch at about 12:45.

We're just hitting the ocean now, I can feel the waves hitting the bow, and I don't know yet whether or not I'll have cell phone coverage when we're eight to ten miles offshore. So this may be my last communication for a while, as we all begin to enjoy being at sea again.

Pineapple muffin-cakes, waiting for midnight-snackers.

Tuesday's Menu 

Breakfast 
Oatmeal, eggs and homemade bread
Lunch 
Garlic bread and simple pasta with a meatless carbonara... I got behind and forgot the ham! And the fact that Smith doesn't eat eggs.
Dinner 
Ham and mashed potatoes
Dessert
Pineapple cakes

A proper send-off

Harrison putting up our last flag over Savannah.

Today was our last full day in Savannah and the crew was off, with the exception of Harrison, who had watch duty. Mom and Dad took Eve and I to Home Depot and Target. Best purchase? Liquid band-Aids. Immediately all the gashes in the calluses of my hands sealed up and stopped hurting. Who knew? Eve says she knows a cook who swears by it. Later, at the kitchen store, I told them they should sell it at the cash register.

For lunch Mom and Dad took me to Clary's – a diner famous for being in the movie, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and for being around since 1903. I ordered a hamburger and chocolate malt and enjoyed the privilege of having someone else cook for me for a change.

After lunch we walked around, shopped, ate ice cream at Leopold's, hung out on a bench in Forsyth Park, toured the Other Tall Ship in town (the one with the retractable swim platform/former helicopter landing pad), and then moseyed our way to dinner. It was a lovely day and the perfect send-off, since tomorrow we set sail for Wilmington, NC.

Fall-out
.

When I got back to the boat after my adventures with my folks, I found a bottle of grain alcohol, a bag of lemons and an old pickle jar on my counter. And a message from Smith, a business card with two symbols on the back: a question mark and a smiley face. I got the message loud and clear. It's time to make limoncello!

Mom and Dad and the mini-cooper packed to the brim.

And I will. But not tonight. Since we depart tomorrow, there is much to be done. I am planning to clean out our stove before we leave in the morning (I turned it off earlier today) and re-start it… by far my favorite thing to do on the Marlin! I anticipate some safety training in the morning and I really hope to get a quick run in.

Cat's out of the bag

Harrison taking his chocolate cake to-go.

A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours. Smith cut Rigby's hair off, Eve disappeared for the evening with a dark-haired stranger and I told the crew about my blog...I might have to start writing in code. At the very least, I have to be prepared for Bly's proofreading comments. And I have to be prepared to defend anything I've written so far.

I didn't really think through the implications of my revelation, but it was getting to be too weird. When i told them, we were all sitting on the cabin top after dinner taking advantage of the witless access from the hotel across the street - and i was uploading my last post. See? Weird. Plus, I've been getting way more hits lately, so it's also starting to feel like it's not just my friends and family who are reading about ... them...

Anyway, to my surprise, they took it in stride. They even started reading it! This morning after breakfast, when I told Smith, her eyebrows went up. Uh-oh, I thought. Maybe this is where it stops. "Well, at least I'm not too much to write about," she said. I figured I might as well put it all out on the table: "Actually, you're my favorite character." I drew a deep breath; crossed my fingers. She grinned.

Waffles staying warm in the oven.

Implications 

When I woke up this morning, there were paper roses on my countertop and a rose made of palm leaf stuck in the handle of one of my cabinets. During morning routine (when the crew washes down the boat and cleans the cabins and the heads, Bly popped his head in to say that aside from the typo, he liked the substance of the blog. A few minutes later Harrison said his mom was reading it and she liked it so far. A half hour later Smith popped her head in. "Thanks for causing me to spend a half hour of my morning not getting work done!"

Uh-oh, I thought. Would the roses have appeared in the galley yesterday? Will I have to wonder whenever they complement my food from now on if they just want me to mention them favorably? Put another way, have I jeopardized the authenciity and honesty of what I'm writing now that all the characters are in-the-know?

Will they do entertaining things to get a mention? Will they, from now on, always be on their best behavior? And the flipside, of course, will they trust me ... Not to air their confessions from, say, a late night of drinking?

Mom, enjoying the sail.

Parental guidance 
Into this day walked my mother and father. When Eve went to introduce herself, she said, " Hi, I'm -" she paused and turned to me - "should we use our real names?" My mother gasped, wide-eyed.

Well, if they were unsure about what kind of person would secretly blog about them for weeks on end, by close of day, they knew. Nothing like having your parents at the dinner table to ensure that the nuances of your personality are amplified and explained and your childhood misdeeds exposed (C.Cook had colic and screamed for months).

My parents were their lovely, entertaining selves. Dad asked everyone at the table their birth order to see if he'd psychoogically pinned them down. Mom cracked jokes and waxed prosaic about food. We sat around talking even longer than usual. Before the meal's end, Dad got a little sentimental and told the crew how special it was for he and my mom to spend some time among them. It was a little cheesy. It was a little awkward. But I couldn't have summed up the day better myself.

Eggs over... 

Sunday's Menu

Breakfast
Waffles and eggs over-hard, medium and easy (and not a yolk broken!)
Lunch
Goulash, and cauliflower paprikash for the vegetarian
Dinner
Mom and Dad bought flank steaks, ravioli and a bucketful of Asiago cheese for us
Dessert
Key lime pie but with lemons... Key lemon pie?

Mealtimes = good times

Bly and Rigby taking helpings during our photoshoot.

At dinner the other night, I was left alone with the boys; Eve and Smith were both otherwise occupied. Rigby said, “We sit talking much longer after dinner than we used to.”

“And we’re better behaved,” added Kip, the bosun. 

“Why’s that?” I asked.

They couldn’t answer my question, but Rigby explained how the old cook used to sit and watch them eat from a bench on the other side of the salon and would immediately start clearing plates as they finished.

When I was on the Neverland, though I didn’t sit watching them, I often didn’t eat with the crew. Mealtimes were often strange affairs with the captains holding court over the main salon. Few conversations took place that didn't feel controlled or somehow monitored.

Our mealtimes here on the Marlin (my nickname for our fair ship) are so much different; and much closer to how I remember mealtimes growing up in my family. We laugh and talk about the events of the day, or our friends and family, and a lot about boats. Cap is pretty quiet but occasionally cracks the most hilarious jokes.

I can’t imagine not wanting to eat since I try to make food I think I'll enjoy. And I miss our mealtimes on my days off. The only downside is still Cap's eating habits. Tonight he took only a piece of the meat. Nothing else. His plate looked so sad. At first I was frustrated and felt like I had let him down as usual, but then I got a little miffed. Sometimes I just wish he try a bite or two of my hard day's efforts. 

Turnips and their greens from the market.

Moving on

Today I journeyed to the farmers' market - what little there was of one on this, their first market day of the year. But I did buy a TON of turnips and turnip greens for $3. "Make sure and come back next week," said the one-eyed black man who sold them to me. "I take care of my ladies." I told him I rather wished I could come back - but that I leave on Tuesday for Wilmington, NC.

As I wound my way through the city, several people commented on my greens. When I told one woman where she could find them, she said I'd made her day. So I must say I was not expecting them to be so ... pungent. Wooh! Not sure I will be making turnip greens again. But it was a fun experiment. 


I've been trying not to buy much lately, because my folks are coming tomorrow for a visit and I am going to take advantage of them, their car, and their Sam's Club membership. However, I did not count on having to defrost the fridge and freezer last night - which left me with some seafood but not quite enough to serve everyone. So on my trip to the farmers' market I also stopped at a seafood market and bought some shrimp and crab and made an amazing linguine for lunch (sorry, I forgot to take a photo). Best of all: Cap ate every bite.




Saturday's Menu
Breakfast
Sausages and cheese eggs
Lunch
Seafood linguine and no-knead bread with gruyere baked into it.
http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Savory-Sea-Scallops-and-Angel-Hair-Pasta/Detail.aspx
Dinner
Chuck roast with Italian seasonings; sweet potato, butternut squash and potato and turnip agradolce with currants; spinach salad with blue cheese and craisins; turnip greens and coleslaw 
Dessert
Molten chocolate cakes

Dutch Dutch Baby

Dutch Baby for eight.

"Come quick if you want to see something amazing!" I hollered down into the fok's'l. Bly came running in and I held out the iron skillet to him, the butter on top still sizzling. Today I made my first Dutch Baby in a long, long time. It was super easy and a huge crowd pleaser. I made it in the gigantic iron skillet I found hiding in a cabinet. 


A Dutch Baby is first thing I learned to make properly - in Home-Ec class in Puyallup, Washington. I still have the recipe card somewhere. It's pink... and all the i's are dotted with hearts.


When I was working at Somewhere in Manhattan, there was a Dutch Baby on the menu and it took me back in time - to the days of Home Ec, and shop class and the day I chose the journalism elective over choir, forever giving up my career as a great vocalist. Little did I know, it was in Home-Ec that I should have focused my energies.


Friendship's quandary
The more bound I become to this organism we call a crew, the more the fact of my blogging becomes complicated. They each have their own compelling and odd aspects to their personalities, which I exploit in my stories. Something about my role here, the fact that I feed them, makes me feel very motherly. Responsible. So I struggle with the feeling of duplicity, the more it goes on. Should I tell them? Should they know they are implicated? I told a few crew members on the Neverland, and I think that was wise – they became involved in the action rather than passive pawns to my story. It’s a tricky matter, though. 


I almost told Eve tonight as we stood in the galley, me making hummus, the two of us talking, drinking whiskey and enjoying the warmth from the stove. But where does one begin? Do I say it off-handedly? They see me taking photos and kid me for documenting the dishes I'm proud of... Maybe it's time I came clean?

Friday's Menu

With my favorite topping: confectioner's sugar and lemon.

Breakfast
Dutch Baby; odds and ends of different meats - ham, sausages and bacon
Lunch
6 oz. hamburgers, homemade fries as well as store-bought that I was trying to get rid of since I had to defrost the freezer tonight, and coleslaw
Dinner
Thai green curry with potatoes; butternut squash in panang curry; stew beef in chicken broth and a bit of soy for Cap' with a baked potato (he didn't eat the skin); rice; candied carrots, mainly for Cap'; and  Thai cucumber salad
Dessert
I often forget about dessert or leave it until the last minute - which means I resort to dirty tricks like making rice krispie treats.