Well, we had to do it. I saw it on ARC 2005, when a cat in-front of me in Vela Latina bought an entire leg. I saw them again at the finish, and it was just a bone. I dreamt of the succulent snacks they must have enjoyed during the crossing.
We discussed it last time, 2011, but decided against, for a reason I can't quite remember. This year we did it! An entire leg. All wrapped up in a pretty sock. We hung it, took photos prior to departure. Imagined all those night watches where we would take Julians sterilised dive knife and cut off a tasty little bite to qualm those midnight hunger pangs. (To be honest I would use a clean galley knife - he was catching sea urchins with it only days before).
After we left, we decided we should remove the sock, and hang it on the stbd transom gate, in all its splendid, salty, smoky Iberico ham glory.
It looks foul. It smells worse. It's covered in a thick layer of greasy fat over the thick, tough skin. It has a hoof. I don't know what I was thinking, but I never imagined the hoof would still be there. This has been mentioned by at least two members of the crew, and the source of some slightly disturbing thoughts during the recent pitch black night watches.
Once through the skin, wearing surgical gloves and a facemask, there is another inch of fat to be removed. At this point I should point out that the transom gate is hung over a teak deck. I have been going mad with K2R to remove fat stains for days now. The teak is pot marked with white splurges. I don't know which looks worse, a grease stain, or a white splodge.
Anthony last night, grabbed at the transom guardwire to steady himself while diligently looking for ships, or even other ARC yachts that weren't there, and found his hand clutching a cold, greasy, and slightly cut-up by this stage, pig leg - with a hoof. This might have been the last straw.
Today, we unanimously agreed to strip the leg of all its meat, and bag it. More surgical gloves, and thankfully a clean galley knife, and Julian and Tim rid the bone of its meat. We had a quick ceremony where Julian said a few words, while I was in the background smiling inwardly, glad that we would be rid of the grease and the ever growing stench, all the while pretending to bid a fond farewell to the leg.
Well I've done it now. Would I do it again? No, I would buy some ready-cut, quality Iberico ham, vacuum packed, perhaps from a pre-chosen leg. I believe thats the whole crews point of view. However, am I glad we did it? Hell yes! We now have nearly 2kg of Iberico ham, some of the best I have had. I got to see where it came from, learned how it was cut, and best of all I get to eat the bits that I cut off myself!
And it gives us another story to tell.
PMCM
Friday is our day for fishing, Mrs Dolphin, Flipper Junior and I. We were having the usual afternoon, minding our own business, scooping up a feast of fishies in open water… when out of nowhere comes this flying hoof, in fact a whole bloody leg! Now I've heard of flying pigs but I never believed it (well you don't do you?). But I tell you , straight up, there it was… a pig leg flying through the air and splashing into the water right there beside me! Meanwhile the youngster is going "flippin" mental whistling like mad to me and Mrs D that there is some great blue whale with humans hanging off its back ploughing down on us as fast as he can swim. Sure enough he's right and next thing you know these human creatures are whooping at each other and pointing at us (!), as if we've done anything, we only came out for a bit of fishing. Still it was fun scratching our backs on the great blue thing and watching them..watching us…watching them…..
Blimey flying pigs and humans, we ain't ever going to get Flipper Junior to settle down to sleep tonight.
Dolphin Dad.