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Kiloran of Edinburgh - Blog

Day 8 (again?)

Death by Articulate

Between a breathtaking sunset and a smoldering moonset (which, by the
way, David has guessed is 800 miles away, making it closer than
London...) our entire crew nearly perished. Had the deadly event occured
our headstones would read:
"14 degrees North by 45 degrees West
Death by Articulate".

Other than that unspeakable game, which has left me in flustered tears
and desperately needing a pee along with a tattered team moral, we've
had a fairly pleasant day. We kicked off with a group reading of Aiden's
(Erica's lover's) reply to our questions put in the previous blog which
described, at serious length, the patterns of the moon and the hunting
patterns of hungry sharks. We then promptly slept. Then we had some
"grilled cheeses" as recommended by the chefs on Surfinn, before
consuming David's reproduced, absolutely not homemade, deep-fried
christmas cake. Unpredicatbly, we were in a state to swim by 3pm so,
upon noting the lack of visibly hungry sharks in nearby waters,
proceeded to invite Calla (who has been attempting to usurp our patch of
sea) over for a communual dip. And so together we swam, two tiny fish in
a big pond, at 3,600m depth, mid Atlantic ocean. Promptly, the Calla
crew used this opportunity to match David on his bellyflopping skills.

In other news, John has volunteered each crew member for an hour-long,
daily cleaning session. If he was Trump and we were Twitter, John should
be banned from voicing his opinion without administrative consultation.
On top of this, lost in high brow conversation about world sailing
competitions, transphobia and English suffragettes, David, having been
let loose in the galley for the first time, forgot to defrost the
chicken with he had promised to roast for us in lemon wrapped in bacon.
To add to a sad story, my Upside Down Apricot Sponge became a Right Way
Up Apricot Sponge upon our making acquaintance with a large roller. Oh
yes, and the Skipper got air time on the wakeboard but, in attempting to
raise the middle finger at expert yatch driver, was felled by his own

Over and Out xoxo

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