Posted in Nature, Park, Tourist Attraction

Cocktail Deck

There are a few things in life that Mr. C. Cow knows more about then I do. Collecting antique milk cans. How to make stripes and plaid go together. Boating lingo. While I might be able to “natter like a pirate”, boat parts and whatnot are confusing. When Mr. C. Cow starts talking about the “stern of the boat” I keep thinking that it means the boat is really strict. I was told that stern means “the after part of the boat” I still don’t know what that means. What’s an “after part”? Once he showed me the fluke of an anchor and I thought he was talking about the anchor having some strange stroke of luck. I don’t think Mr. C. Cow was very impressed with my boat knowledge.

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Where’s The Poop Deck?

We have been sailing a few times together. While I’m under the impression that I’ll get to wear a pirate hat while sipping cocktails on whatever part of the boat is the cocktail deck, Mr. C. Cow is more into practicing his square knots on the starboard bow.

Wow! We have a star on board? Neato!

Maybe I should brush up on my terms because  Mr. C. Cow keeps shaking his head every time I giggle at the word “Bulkhead”. Come on! It sounds like someone with a really large (and heavy) head. Who wouldn’t giggle at that? I also should probably tone down my pirate talk on our next trip together. Mr. C. doesn’t appreciate it when I keep yelling “Watch out fer sharks ‘n jellyfish Sailor Cow! Pass me th’ rum! Yarr!”.

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Beautiful Day For Sailing!

We all like to get a bit goofy at times. I actually do know where the starboard is on a ship. (It’s the right side of the ship when looking forward.) Mr. C. Cow knows that I really don’t think a bulkhead is a large-headed individual. Being best friends we sometimes like to pick on each other. Even so, I do insisted that I get to wear a pirate hat and drink cocktails on our next boat trip. Maybe this time I can figure out where the cocktail deck is.

“Tipsy” Cerulean

Pictures taken in Second Life by…Me!

Second Life Location: Sister’s Cove (M) 

 

 

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Posted in Food, Tourist Attraction, Town/City

Rum Bucket

We stopped at a sea port the other day to do a bit of camper supplies refueling. Mr. C. Cow put on a pirate hat and a patch to try to fit in with the locals. I, personally, think that the fake parrot on his shoulder was going a bit overboard. He explained to me that, in these types of places, one must look the part. For some strange reason he felt that the shopping was best left to him. Mr. C kept mumble-mooing about “lingo”, “barter”, and “danger”. He is the most caring friend in the world and I trust him to not only keep me safe but re-supply the camper. It doesn’t hurt that he is did take swashbuckling classes in college.

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I decided that I would trust Mr. C. Cow. I didn’t exactly fit in with my outfit and I didn’t really feel like changing. A fake neon boa, 3 foot high (and perfectly sculpted I must say) beehive, and sunglasses the size of a bowling ball don’t make one look very sea harbor shanty town ahoy. Perfectly content I sat in the camper reading the latest “Martini Times” magazine. Even had the time to make and eat a cheese and cracker plate without anyone chewing up all of my crackers!

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Three hours later Mr. C. Cow came back with what could possibly be the best and worst items to ever be called camper supplies.

Gigantic Bucket Of Rum: GOOD!
Magic 8 Ball That Only Answers With An “Arrrr”: BAD!
Comfy Blanket: GOOD!
Toilet Paper Made Of Poky Wood Shavings: BAD!

I’m still trying to figure out how Mr. C. Cow felt that toilet paper made out of wood shavings was a positive purchase. He informed me that, when bartering with pirates, you sometimes have to make concessions. That kinda sounds like some sort of life advice. I’m, at least, grateful for a comfy blanket and a bucket of rum.

“Tipsy” Cerulean

Location: Hedeby (M)

Posted in Uncategorized

Landlubber

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Ahoy me land lovin’ buckos! I hope all be well with you. Today we found a lovely park with a beach overlookin’ t’vast virtual ocean. T’ocean waves be calmin’ as we lay here on our blankets and stare up at t’sky. It’s times like these that I’m glad we got in arrr camper and headed out.

While at the park Mr. C. Cow bought me a nautical dictionary. I haven’t had the heart to tell him that it wasn’t nautical but more like a pirate dictionary. As you can see I’ve been practicing so that it will make him feel good about his purchase. I’m now in the mood for some Grog and I wonder if we could make a retractable plank for people to walk just in case our camper ever gets boarded.

I wonder if Mr. C. Cow would look good in a pirate patch with a peg hoof?

All of this reading has made me hungry. I wonder if we can find a nice fresh fruit stand before we head back out again. I don’t want to end up with scurvy.

“Tipsy” Cerulean

Location: Corsair Cove State Park (M)