Ahoy Faithful Readers!
This year's holiday activities were one for the record books. I decided that our festivities would be held shipside as we were anchored, ironically, in a bay on the leeward side of Easter Island. By the way, the inhabitants of Easter Island do not celebrate Easter, they do however have a holiday that involves chocolate bunnies. The weird look in the eyes of the native that was telling me this, gave me the idea that maybe I did not want to ask anymore questions relating to THAT holiday. I quickly excused myself saying something about my seaphone ringing on silent.
Many activities were planned, among them: an egg hunt, a narwhal wrasslin' event, ring toss, and (my favourite) a raucous game of Marco Polo! First up was the ring toss, poor me, I was unable to participate due to the fact that I have no "hands" [see
'Peg Legged and Fancy Free' The Freezer Section, issue 10 dec 06]. In fact, now is a good time to mention that for the last six-plus months my trusty parrot, Paul E., has been taking my dictation and tirelessly using the hunt and 'peck' technique to compile my rum-induced ramblings (I think I just invented a word for that:
RUMBLINGS). Anyway, back to the action, Privateer Blueberry won the ring toss and was awarded his prize without further ado. As a side note, he/she/it/they/neither/both/etc. was the only participant in the ring toss, and I'm guessing it is because I declared that the winner was to be given "forty lashes". Having sobered a little, and seeing the fear in his/her/its/their/etc. eyes that I was actually going to go through with my declaration, I quickly threw a "curveball" and ordered all crewpersons to pluck enough eyelashes to equal a 'forty lash bouquet' to be given to Privateer Blueberry. Yeah! Happy Endings! (not that kind!)
Next up was the egg hunt! Since we could only procure an egg that was lacking bouyant qualities, we decided that the most dynamic approach would be to blindfold all of the participants and just let the egg sink where it may. On my command, all of my seamen lurched forward in search of the elusive egg! It was a sight to behold, seamen were flailing about, bumping into each other, frantically trying to find the egg...{okay, okay, I know this is lame, but you have to give me credit for waiting so long to pull this one}. Wrapping up: and someone found it, and they were declared the winner. Yada, yada, yada.
After the "egg" hunt, was the narwhal wrestling. Privateer Cantaloupe displayed excellent skill and dexterity in defeating the Narwhal Thumb-Wrestling World Champion. I did not know that narwhals had thumbs, let alone that they were double jointed in their thumbs. I guess it is a good thing that Privateer Cantaloupe is triple-jointed in his thumbs.
Lastly, was a super fun game of Marco Polo, Old-World Style! This year's classic was won by none other than Bosun Kiwi. He/she/it/they/neither/both/etc. swept the competition, leaving no room for doubt as to who is the second best ever! The best ever, of course would be the game's founder AND namesake, MR. MARCO POLO!!!!
Sadly, his son chose not to follow in his father's legkicks. He instead went into the clothing/fashion industry. Alas poor Ralph, he knew you well!
So that raps it up here from the beautiful island paradise of Easter Island! Not because I've covered everything that happened, rather, Paul E.'s beak is bleeding pretty severly and I don't think he can peck anymore
editors note: Paul E. is fine and in stable condition at the Betty Ford Clinic. Our thoughts and prayers are with him.
This has been your Captain speaking,
Gortimus the Elder
