She's back............

 


Ah, a nice relaxing sunset at last.  Been a few days of clouds and rain - no good to sit in the cockpit and enjoy the sunset.  It was kinda clear Sunday night; we stopped the taxi in town to get out and watch the space station go past.  Too much reflected light but we did see it.


I could hear the 'slap, slap' of an incompetent swimmer near the boat but didn't pay much heed - there's always kids going out to the reef to search for sea cucumbers which they 'sell to the chinese', according to them.


So I was a bit taken aback when the boat rocked a bit and a head popped up from the swim ladder.  "Hello, Dave, been a while."  Too dark to really make out her face, but I would know that voice anywhere.  "Shirley!  I haven't seen you since Panama!"  Shirley levered her ample mass up into the cockpit into the light.  "And what happened to your green Mohawk?"  She ran her hand over her head and replied, "Got too much to handle after those Irish sailors used me to turn the canal green for St. Paddy's Day a few years back.  Speaking of - got any beer?"  As I scrambled down the companionway I said over my shoulder.  "Why are you here?"


Shirley took a big swig and said, "Ah, I pretty much wore out my welcome in Panama.  Well, at least I wore something out.  You remember those supply-chain issues a while back?  Where the ships couldn't get to the docks?"  I nodded dumbly.  "Well, the problem wasn't the ships.  It was the crew still hadn't recovered from going through the canal."  "The Panama Canal?" I asked.  She shot me a sarcastic look.  "Of course the Panama Canal, dummy.  And what was in the Panama Canal, Einstein?"  "Uh - you?" I replied.  "Exactamundo.  Go to the head of the class."


"Sorry, Shirley, we don't have a head of the class anymore.  No exceptionalism because we don't want to hurt anyone's feelings."  "You mean brains aren't recognized and rewarded anymore?  That would mean...that would mean that people don't trust scientists either?"  "Things have changed a lot since you've been...uh...messing with the supply chain in Panama."  "That was the spring of 2016!" she exclaimed in dismay.  "Surely the country couldn't have gone downhill that fast!"  "It did, and don't call me Surely."  I laughed.  She threw the empty at me.  Luckily it missed.


"Oh - and you remember those two little pest friends of yours?"  "Yeah - Goose and Maverick!  How are the little buggers?"  "They're here.  They rode over with me.  They said they were going to visit 'cuzzins' over here for awhile.  Buzzin' cuzzins' - hey that's funny!  Got any more beer?"  I went below to retrieve another bottle of Fiji Bitter.  "Last one, Shirley.  We'll have to go into town to get more tomorrow."  "Lead the way, pal.  You won't mind if you don't see me for a few days...or weeks, will 'ya?"  "Just try not to create an international incident again, ok?  They just had an election here and the last thing they need is some disruptive force..." I said as I watched my last bottle go in one gulp.  If belches are a compliment to the chef, Shirley was immediately very complimentary.  "Let me clarify here - you said election?"  "Yes."  "With an 'l'?"  "Yes, unlike certain congressional candidates.  With an ell."  "Damn," she said.  "You had me fired up there for a second.  Mind if I crash in the cockpit tonight?  Big day tomorrow!"  "Be my guest," I said and retired, thinking foreboding thoughts about the future of the Fijian male population.


And Goose and Maverick too?  Aye caramba.  Or is that cultural appropriation?

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