A Dark and Gothic Tale

It's that time again isn't it... Time to post so I don't become one of the non-posting parasites like some people I know (atleast I'm not one of the non-commenting creeps). Just to dispel your doubts, this means you!

Aanywaaay. Since I don't really have any particularly interesting updates about my amazing life at the moment, I figured it's time to fall back on the old standby; another 100% (give or take 50%) true account of past events. This is the dark and gothic tale of inattention and hubris (the lights dim, sinister mist and lightening shows on the screen, dramatic organ music in the background...) which resulted in the infamous capsize of Black Dog. For those of you who are shifting guiltily in your chairs right now, don't worry, this will be a sanitized version of the truth, hopefully pulling a decorous veil over culpability [Translation; your author will come out smelling like roses]. And so, my dearly beloved 'earers, on to the story.

Story recorded and translated [tr.] from the original Stuart Island dialect by Zephyr Delahunt.

There wasn't much wind, just a gentle breeze, perfect for testing out the state of the art new engineering department equipment [tr. huge new topsails]. The sails, much anticipated by captain [tr. more ropes and peril! Oh Joy!] and crew [tr. panic? horror? terror?] increased the light air sail area by roughly 15% [tr. obscenely huge]. Guest inspection personnel and crew Jim and Tate Wester [tr. Shanghaied innocent bystanders] drew lots for who was to go as crew. Tate looses [tr. age and cunning win yet again...], and joyfully joins the crew [tr. signs will]. The Black Dog pulls composedly away from the dock under 2/3 power [tr. main and fore]. Once away from the dock and out in the briney deep [tr. Reid harbour] the captain gives the order to increase to full sail. Crew happily complies [tr. incipient mutiny], and after a few moments all sail is raised. Jim, in the Wester's boat (acting as chase boat since Black Dog is temporarily enginless) remarks that the rig looks beautiful [tr. he's not aboard, gloat gloat] and picturesque [tr. large enough to paper the white house]. After sailing around the harbour for an uneventful hour the crew deems that they are now experienced hands [tr. complacent], and nothing can go wrong [tr. .... all literal translations unprintable]. Jim decides, at the urging [tr. demanding] of his son, that he might safely take a shift aboard [tr. much to learn you still have my young padawan...]. Luckily, all probability and karma aside, Jim survives his stint onboard unharmed [tr. the shakes subsided latter that day] and returns to the chase boat. First Mate Yeshe requests [tr. demands] to switch with Tate so that he can "see how good the boat looks" [tr. abandoning ship, one smart fella...]. The mate having absconded, the shellback skipper is left with an entirely green and ungoverned crew [tr. time to start furiously spraying around that rose scented perfume I mentioned....]. After a failed return to dock (foiled by jammed halyard [tr. more rose perfume...] ) the vessel encounters a huge power surge [tr. heavy gust off a nearby mountain]. The crew reacts swiftly to orders [tr. panic]. Unfortunately, the wet-behind-the-ears crew gets on the wrong side of the boat resulting in excessive heeling of the boat [tr. lee gunwale under] and at the same time preventing lowering power [tr. blocks foreboom so it won't sheet out]. And so, amid many curses and death threats by the captain (entirely blameless remember...), the Black Dog succumbs to the inevitable and lays her masts in the water. The boom-jamming crew is tossed overboard [tr. poetic justice] while the skipper beats a dignified retreat [tr. scrambles like a demeted spider] up to the dry side of the boat. The chase boat arrives on the scene to take off survivers, all the while being nastily cheerful [tr. indecent relish]. The humbled and swamped Black Dog is then towed to a nearby dock and bailed out. Naval Architect/Captain Zephyr Delahunt stringently defends his topsail design and command decisions in court. Unfortunately, he is denied an appeal and thanks to the lilly-livered crew the topsails are never agian used [tr. at least the crew learned their lesson]. Luckily, undetered, Capt. Delahunt is now formulating plans to convert Black Dog to a Marconi rig thus taking advantage of a loophole in nomenclature to get his topsails back (for the non nautical reader, marconi sails are essentially gaff sails with tops'ls permanently attached). Updates about the result of this legal ploy will follow.

So there you have it, now you, a people sitting in darkness and shadow, have heard the hushed up and previously undisclosed tale of the humbling of Black Dog. Special reporter for Life Is Too Important Zephyr Delahunt signing off.