Ladies and gentlemen, today I am here to talk to you about the perils of boobies. (no, we are not about to talk about pre-marital sex here. It’s the name of a bird dude. As in blue-footed boobies (or orange-footed, whatever)).
Don’t let the cuteness fool you. These little warm weather aviary ambassadors of the devil himself have been with us since our departure. My friends, as the crewmember with the most seaborne combat experience (hey, I am a trained boarding officer) I have led our valiant efforts to repel these determined air pirates for several days now. Though our first attempts were admittedly crude and pathetically unsuccessful.
We only suffered a minimum of self-inflicted casualties …
… and have recently upgraded our techniques. The scales of victory slowly tipped in our direction and our safe voyage appeared assured…until the enemy, under the cover of darkness, marshaled their forces and without warning staged their own personal Tet Offensive…
The enemy struck without warning, on all fronts and we were initially clearly overwhelmed. Pressing the advantage one of our foes grew so brave as to land in our cockpit and make a dive for the hatch below decks! Allan had to literally tackle this squawking, flapping Captain Jack Sparrow-wanna-be with a rug while Alison pelted them both with a fruit basket (more friendly fire) and cast the beast from our vessel into the murky darkness. (sorry, no video on that one, happened a little too fast.)
The battle rages on…
– Greg
(On another booby note, we ran into someone with a t-shirt that said “I love boobies” and a cartoon of 2 little blue booby feet on it 🙂 – Tiff)
