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Santa Maria Pirate Weekend, September 2009 - Columbus, OH
(Photo: Mission)
Chapter 6th: Concerning the problems of insulin pumps, requisite
fasting, the search for the Great Swedish Fish, boarding the ship, why
new people should never want to learn to fire cannon and what pirates do
on rainy daze.
Sunday morning, I awoke to the insistent beeping of my insulin pump. I forgot to bring my insulin this weekend. I realized this about 3 hours into a 3-1/2 hour car trip to Columbus, deciding to be really good about my diet to preserve the insulin left in my pump. (This requires more explanation than interests most pirates, but you have to give insulin to 'use' the food you eat. So, eat less, use less insulin.) Sunday morning was D-Day and I figured if I ate nothing that day, I would be OK if I left at 2pm. So I fasted. (I never got one of Connie's cookies that weekend. Such a crime.)
One thing I absolutely knew - I had to find some Swedish Fish. So I went on the hunt after stopping at Panera for Hazelnut Coffee with no Nutmeg (What is wrong with Ohio Paneras? They don't have nutmug!)
Above Right: Alex with a Connie cookie, of which I got none. *Sniff*
Wal~Mart totally failed me in my quest. Oh, they had more various kinds of bagged candy than you could shake a stick at, but no Swedish Fish. How could you not have Swedish Fish when your slogan is "Save money. Live better"? Who can live better without Swedish Fish? I mean to say... So I tried CVS and they gave satisfaction. "Swedish Fish? No problem!" is apparently CVS's slogan.
At the ship, I ran into Red John Roberts, who was wheeling the mortar out from the street (left). I thought it made for a neat photo op. Once shipboard, I proudly presented my Norse prize to Rosabella, who was busily unbraiding her cornrows. I think they were cornrows. What do I know about hair braiding? I bought my braid, already knotted! She looked at the fish, grunted appreciatively (in a delicate, feminine way - like the blue girl in Quest for Fire) and went back to unbraiding her cornrows. *Sigh* You try and you try to impress people today and nothing works.
(Photo: Mission)
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(Photo: Mission)
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(Photo: Mission)
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Several amusing things happened while we were preparing to open that I thought I'd share here. Count d'Booty took Rosabella around the ship in a photojournalistic frenzy. There were far more photos than I can put here. My favorite is below - I was trying to get them to do a "Titanic moment" on the prow of the ship, but they wouldn't do it. Still, this is a nice, impromptu version of fan hands for us (below left). While parking, I also happened to notice that the Thatchers had a mascot on their van antenna. (Below center). This is either charming and cute or it's horrifying, depending on your perspective. Lastly, Michael found a pink version of Lob over at the art fair and decided to purchase her (below right). Her name is tentatively Lobette. I expect we'll be seeing her in all sorts of compromising situations in the future if the past is any indicator.
(Photo: Count d'Booty)
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(Photo: Mission)
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(Photo: Shannon)
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(Photo: Thatchers)
The big exciting event for me on Sunday was the
opportunity to try climbing the rope ladder and board the ship. I had
promised to do this on the Pyracy.com
website and I was ready to make good on that promise. So Michael
proposed a practice run, I suspect this was partially because several people
wanted to try it too after seeing folks do it on Saturday. So we loaded
up the HMS Scow and Michael paddled us over to the boat. Jessica
agreed to take photos with my camera, which I later found it she did
because she didn't want to risk dropping hers in the water.
Below: Shannon helps push the boat off from the dock. The boat contains (from left): Jessica, Alex Thatcher, Rosabella (behind Alex), Michael the workhorse and me. (Notice how I always get out of the rowing duty?)
I had volunteered to go up first. I figured that since I knew in about the climb in advance and had spent 12 hours every day working out in preparation for this. So I could handle to rigor of climbing the rope ladder. I was a little concerned about my shoes, because folks in the 18th century was so unconcerned with slipping and falling on rope ladders that they designed shoes with soles that were as slippery as possible. This was not an issue, however. It was a pretty easy climb and I made good time given the rope conditions, weather and wind direction. I did notice that there are about 10,000 photos of me, probably because I went first. Later climbers didn't get quite the extensive coverage, which is probably because, like photos of your children, the first one is a novelty and the rest, not so much.
(Photo: Thatchers)
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 ( Count d'Booty)
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(Photo: Mission)
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(Photo: Trish)
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(Photo: Thatchers)
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Next on the rope ladder course was Alex Thatcher, who had a little bit of trouble getting out of the gate - uh, boat. He quickly made up for the lost time by ascending the ladder powerfully, but the judges decided to dock him points for his stripey socks. He definitely suffered from second child lack of photos syndrome.
(Photo: Count d'Booty)
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(Photo: Trish)
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(Photo: Thatchers)
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Photo: Mission)
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The last rope ladder contender in this heat was Rosabella (below), who had the second-largest number of photos taken of her climb. This may have been in part because she was last, but more likely because she was Rosabella. She beat my time by 3 hundredths of a second, putting her in first place on the tot-board. Analyzing the film here, notice that this was when George appeared on the side of the ship (photo far right). This will become relevant presently.
(Photo: Thatchers)
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(Photo: Mission)
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(Photo: Trish)
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 ( Count d'Booty)
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(Photo: Trish)
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After the first heat was completed, George aka. "Smitty" decided to show off and go down the ladder into the HMS Scow (below). Being attached to the Santa Maria and one of the de-facto Olympic judges, we all just shrugged our collective shoulders and let him do it. Michael then took George and camera-woman Kate back to the dock.
(Photo: Thatchers)
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(Photo: Count d'Booty)
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(Photo: Thatchers)
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(Photo: Trish)
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The second heat consisted entirely of Shannon (below), although Andrew Thatcher went along for the ride. Shannon's time was quite good, but not good enough to beat Rosabella. The final standing was: 1st: Rosabella, 2nd: Shannon, 3rd: Mission, Just Glad to Be Here: Alex and Does Not Follow Instructions Well: George. Rosabella's prize was to have her face swiped with a stinky sponge.
Shannon definitely lost the photo battle as you might guess from that first, awfully wide shot of him climbing the boat. (I couldn't find more good ones to fill in the photo selection. Sorry, Shannon. At least you have Trish!)
(Photo: Trish)
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(Photo: Mission)
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(Photo: Trish)
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(Photo: Thatchers)
After all the climbing fun was over, someone decided it was time to induct
the new cannoneers. This is one of those strange traditions, the basic
philosophy of which is, "
I
had to be abused for learning this new skill, now so do you!"
What it amounts to is that after your first time firing a cannon, you must
be inducted into the cannoneers club (or whatever they call it) by having
the stinky sponge rubbed on your face. (Or
elsewhere,
at the whim of the sponge rubber.)
We had three cannon newbies on our crew...well, we actually had two. Alex had managed to get by in the past without being inducted. Since he resisted it most, it went the most badly for him (left). Bloody Bess Flint of the Rieske Family Artillery crew did the honors with their cannon swab. Michael, Silas and Shannon held the victims. (Michael likes this far too much.) Andrew Thatcher was on the mortar this year, so he got inducted (below left). I'm not exactly sure how Rosabella got roped into this - probably because she won the ladder climbing as mentioned - so she got inducted (below).
(Photo: Thatchers)
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(Photo: Count d'Booty)
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(Photo: Thatchers)
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In the early afternoon, it started to rain. Naturally, since we melt when we get wet (despite being on a ship), we all scurried for cover under the tarp (Below: Note that the tourists are prepared for this, unlike the pirates. It's because umbrellas aren't PC...yeah, that's it.) Hiding under the tarp or even under the deck proved to be mostly useless as apparently there's a leak...several, in fact. So no matter where you were on the boat, you were pretty much going to get wet. The pirates reacted by setting up a limbo stick using a blunderbus (below right), which did nothing to stop them from melting.
(Photo: Thatchers)
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(Photo: Thatchers)
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The ubiquitous dampness was an issue for my surgical equipment because a lot of it is raw steel. It starts rusting upon hearing the forecast call for a chance of showers. (One has to wonder about the condition of a real Ship's Surgeon's instruments.) I quickly wiped it down (with Andrew's help, if I recall correctly) and packed it up. No more presenting for me on Sunday. It was getting close to 2pm anyhow, which was the time I had calculated I would have to leave to get home before my insulin pump ran out of insulin. So I bid my farewells and took off. A very nice weekend, indeed.
Below are most of the crew from this weekend. (Kate was taking the picture.) Lesse back row from left: Silas Thatcher, Bloody Marty Rackham, Mark Gist, Sam, Thomas of the Scioto Pirates and Dan Needham.
(Photo: Kate)
Front row from left: Callenish Gunner,
Count d'Booty, behind him is Bloody Bess Flint, Rosabella, behind her is
Red John Roberts, Andrew Thatcher, Trish with Shannon behind her, Miles
Thatcher with Maureen and Thomas from Paynetown behind him, your own
ship's surgeon, Jennie Gist, Alex Thatcher and Connie Thatcher. Oh, and
that's Michael Bagley kneeling down in the very front.