November Duce

November 2nd

I'm tired. Every day is the same. How long I work and at what time changes, but the work is the same, counting fish. What's for lunch and dinner changes, but food is running out and Rueben is having to get creative, or just give out fried foods. Chicken or fish and rice, no matter how good it is, you can only have so many days in a row. The boat didn't expect to still be fishing. They though they would be home by Halloween, and we still another week maybe yet.

The sun isn't rising until 10:30, and then it sets by 4:00. All though, each are pretty epic on the clear days. But even those, getting lost in a daze opportunities, are becoming mundane. I've run through all the books I've brought with me. I took some music from the mate a month ago, and I've gone through all of that. I was saved by finding a book hiding in a nook in my stateroom. That was two days ago, and I'm almost through with it.

This is day 38 . . . day 38 . . .

Two days ago, on Halloween, two of the deck hands made makeshift halloween costumes. Something I had thought about doing, but lost motivation after finding little materials to construct my idea of a fish cop. One made a mask out of card board and the other wrapped himself in toilet paper. They then went trick or treating (or as my Vietnamese friend says it, "crick and greet" at least thats what I thought he was saying until I told him the real phrase) to the cooks room, for he was the only one on board with any candy left. And then it was back to work.

These guys have been out here now for over 3 months, and some are staying for another 3 weeks after the season ends. Then they all come back for the next season that starts right after Christmas, for another 6 to 10 weeks. Then they are off 'til August. But a mix of weird hunger cravings, homesickness, caffein and nicotine withdrawals, and cabin fever has some of the crew stirring and acting a little senile. The older horses are just tired and draggin'.

When the sun is out though, the boat gets hit with a shot of adrenaline. In an instant, the work picks up, fish seem to start biting, and factory ipod seems to being playing all the right songs to sing a long to. Then the sun sets and the air becomes bitter cold with a breeze. Like someone flushed the toilet while you were in the middle of applying your shampoo in the shower, only the hot water doesn't return and you stay wet until the shift is over.

Just as this Groundhog day of a life that we live is getting to me, the cook brings out white cake with white frosting and sprinkles. Oh was it good. Life is delicious on a boat.

The moral of this story, never underestimate the power of cake.

- Casey