Don’t get me wrong, I
really do like Agent Catfish. However,
lately she’s been in a kind of ‘domestic’ mode. Not that Chip or Lee mind. They
both love her oatmeal raisin, chocolate chunk peanut butter, and chocolate chip
cookies that she sends to ‘her boys’ every chance she gets. No wonder they usually
overlook some of her irritating
little habits, especially when
we’re just offshore Daytona Beach and the cookies are warm out of the oven.
So what are these little irritations?
She plays matchmaker
to Lee and Chip, with herself included as one of the potential ‘dates’!
Flirts like the devil she does. Of course she jokes about it, but once or twice
I have seen her eyeing both boys with more than what a maiden aunt type ought
I’m fortunate in that regard. No, she feels it’s
her sacred duty to ‘mother’ me instead.
She’s not even old enough to be my mother, for goodness sake! But since we’re
headed north and the weather is unseasonably cold in Boston (my personal
destination this time), she insisted that I needed something more substantial
to wear than my usual winter coat, notwithstanding the fact, that I can always
break out our foul weather gear.
You could have heard a
when she came aboard with, of all things an almost completed scarf she was
crocheting herself, insisting I not let Seaview depart for the colder climate
until she finished it for me.
Oh, it was warm. Nobody
doubt that. It would melt a snowman. And it was soft. Baby soft. Luxurious to
the skin. I could imagine how good it would feel against my craggy and cold
face in a ‘Nor’easter.
There was just one problem,
invited herself into my cabin (without permission), and hurriedly tried to
complete the damn thing with the 100 %
Acrylic yarn. Pink yarn. Pink! With
strands of orange and green. Pink is a girl’s color! Call me old fashioned, but
this is one thing I don’t believe I can ever change my mind about. And I couldn’t
very well decline it or kick her off the boat. She’s...family, after all.
And so I waited. Lee and
hell, the entire crew, were too busy stuffing their faces full of all those
cookies to give it much thought after the initial shock wore off.
Of course, I thanked her
but as soon as we completed repairs to the rudder, and were underway, I would
have to figure out a way to dispose of it. No way could I simply fire it out of a torpedo tube. The current just might take
it ashore and if Agent Catfish found out, well I didn't want to think about it.
I thought about sending it
to my sister, but she and Cat are friends, and what if they got to chatting....no, I would have to keep it aboard and
wait until we returned to Santa Barbara to put it in the trash, or donate it to some charity.
It was a few days later when we reached Boston Harbor, and
there was a full fledged Nor'easter in progress.
smirked as I pulled on
my coat and gloves, “aren’t you forgetting something?” he began to wrap the scarf
around my neck and head.
“It’s 17 below
out there, and blowing like hell,” Morton
said, helping Lee, who was ignoring my protestation.
“I look like a Creamsicle*
this get up!”
“Better than feeling
As I trudged through the howling
blast toward the taxi, I
was grateful, if embarrassed, that the scarf did offer me wonderful protection
from the wind’s icy fingers. Perhaps I’d
been a bit too hasty in my ‘pink is for girls’ attitude. But as the cabbie
tried to stifle his laughter, I knew it was going to be a long weekend.
I wondered if anyone aboard
was even sympathetic. I knew they were all laughing at me behind my back. I wondered
if Lee, Chip, and the crew would enjoy
an order of Creamsicles to be delivered to Seaview as a kind of retribution. No,
they might actually enjoy the frozen treats. Then it struck me...I’d ask Agent
Catfish to crochet everybody aboard the same scarf...a kind of uniform...after
all my scarf did keep me toasty warm...and NIMR and Annapolis (one of the places I’m going to visit) certainly can’t
argue with functionality.
I just wonder what old
Starke is going to say when he finds out about it. I think I’ll let Lee handle
that issue. Snicker Snicker.