Into the Jaws of Adventure

With fair winds behind us, the Arronax sped quickly to her destination, The Isle of Phillip. The hearty adventures aboard settled in, securing stateroom or cabin as class dictated. I noted that I was the only traveller who had thought to bring a pack-animal (save Baroness Amber, who had brought Millie) and thought this boded ill for my feathered friends, who may now be expected to bear all means of trunks, instruments, and minibars for the more negligent journeyers. But this I consented to, with care for the expedition. Just after my Tribune dispatch was completed, and was safely sent off by pigeon, I heard the short bells calling us to mess.



The Captain, a Frenchman, of most swarthy and unkempt appearance, had invited the nobility to dine; and there, in the captain's mess, gathered the noble gentles for a fine repast, (so I am told.)



The "Salt of the Earth" were relegated to another mess room. Although I had paid the sum requested by Bardhaven (the Commoner's Fare, he called it) the food was unsavory and disappointing. I made conversation with Dr. Sputnik, Miss Lightfoot being away from table, examining the mealy hardtack that we had been apportioned.




The species of weevil represented here amazed me, had I not undertaken this journey, I would likely never have encountered such a variety of parasitic life! There was a fiery Red Flour beetle. These beetles are about 1/8 inch long and reddish-brown in color. Females may live a year or more, dropping up to 500 eggs on infested foods. Small, white worms (larvae) hatch from these eggs and they feed until they're about 1/6 inch long. Under ideal conditions, development from egg to adult takes about two months. This gigantic specimen wriggled with great agility, half buried in the tack.

I looked on with delight as Dr Oolon identified several other fellow travellers in this infestation, noting a Sawtoothed Grain Beetle, Indian Meal Moth larvae, and several variety of Dermestid worms which cavorted amongst the fungus of the hardtack like large legless deer in green swards. The learned Doctor gave classification for each loitering beast as he described their metamorphic habits and unique deviances, and this passed the time well.



Seeming to tire of this taxonomy, I noticed Dr. Oolon staring at my grey shocks of hair and I thought to alieve him of what might be a difficult question to ask, by stating: "I see you are curious about my grey? It is unnatural for one so young, yes, I shall tell you the story of how I came to have it?"

I ignored his "Truthfully, I was staring at a zit.." and I continued. "These shocks were received one terrible night while serving as a sailor on the good ship Boondocks."

"You were on the Boondocks?" He said, interest perking slightly.



"Yes, steaming out of Galveston with a fine load of fish oil destined for Florida, and on a warm July morn, in the Gulf, the boilers blew. 700 men went into the water... the vessel went down in 12 minutes, the ocean slicked by the fishy oil, coating our skin as the clothing was shred from our bodies. Didn't see first Dolphin for about half an hour. Bottlenose, 6-footer. You know how you know that, Dr.? You tell by looking from the dorsal to the tail. Well, we didn't know. 'Course our Fish-oil mission had been so lucrative, no-one had been told we were out there."

I took a drink of water and continued..



"They didn't even list us overdue for a week. The very first light, Dr, the Dolphins come a-cruisin' -this was their mating ground, and the fish oil slick only made them randier..we tried forming into tight groups, kinda like old squares in the calendars, like at the battle of Waterloo? Where the idea was, Dolphin rubs against the nearest man, and the man managed to pound and hollar and scream...and sometimes the Dolphin'd go away...and sometimes he wouldn't go away, sometimes the dolphin'd look right in your eyes...



You know the dolphin's got purty blue eyes? Like a lamb in softness and sweetness? Those eyes look right into you, well, until they start their rubbing...Savaging... when those eyes narrow and squint with dastardly delight...the men commence a' yelling, and with the beating of the flippers and arms, the ocean turns foamy, and what with all the pounding and the hollering the bottlenoses all come in...and their bottlenoses go where bottlenoses should not venture...




On Thursday morning I bumped into a friend of mine, Harry Roberts, out of Altoona.. Slingo player, Bosun's mate..I thought we was asleep..reached over to wake him up, he just nodded and bobbed up and down, smiling...well...he'd been nuzzled, below the waist. At noon the fifth day a tugboat passed along, a young pilot, much younger than Baron Zealot, happened along and collected us- we had to restrain him from getting in the water too...he was a odd chap, that. Maybe it was the Baron? No...Well, that was the time I was most frightened, seeing that pilot stripping to jump in the water...waiting for my turn...er, to get out. Since then I've borne these grey shocks!"



"You were savaged by dolphins?" asked the doctor.
"Nearly, yes...and I have often considered directing my vengeance against the critter that that nearly had me..but I ask myself..

To what Porpoise?"






The doctor paused a moment, then replied "Mr Abel, I must say, conversation with you reminds me of a particular chum."

"Oh? Which chum is that?

"Examine the bucket behind you."