El Capitan and the Language Problems of Super Salt Man

Lisa just got pooped on by a pigeon. My hands are covered in poopy pigeon residue for trying to be a gentleman and clean off her shirt. I sure hope the internet man isn't reading over my shoulder right now, as these fingers zip along on his little keyboard where I keep tzping z's where y's should be and vice versa because thez're kezboards are a bit funnz (see!!).

Croatia is absolutelz splendid (sorrz about the y i mean z). Although I think I may be getting a little cabin fever on our boat. At least we're trapped on a beautiful ship cruising beautiful islands in a country I never imagined I'd visit, but one where I'm so glad I came.

The islands of Croatia tend to be quite stretched out, nudging up against the shoreline of Croatia in long stretched forms like an meeting of various sized worms. We started our trip with a particular itinerary, but one that our laid back captain axed after the first night. Instead of doing the typical route that most boats do (and there are tons of these vintage sailing boat tours), he decided to do the trip backwards in an attempt to avoid most of the tourists. We like el capitan. He was drinking a toddy when we got on board the boat before we left our starting point in Split, and every night before we pull into harbor he has a beer brought up to him by one of his deckhands. He is quite amusing, and uses his fragmented english in delighful ways. After pulling the boat up to dock one night he was going down the stairwell to the lower deck, and poked his leathery face topped with silvery hair back through the stairwell, and looking at lisa said 'Swim' while doing what looked like a dance from the 60's--all he needed to do was to grab his nose and shake his butt. My favorite time of day is the early mornings. Lisa and I are not the party animals that many of the Australians on our boat are and so we hit the hay before midnight usually, which means I can wake up before the 8 am breakfast and sit on the front deck, usually all by myself. The water is so smooth and the sun is just coming over the mountainous islands as we meander along, just me on the front of the boat in the crisp morning air and the captain behind me in either just his speedo, or a pair of shorts and a skimpy tanktop. 'Good morning' I say, and he responds with a kind smile and continues driving the puttering little boat.

The english of the croatian crew, while better than the captain's, is not nearly as good as people from western europe. But they have plenty with which to communicate with us, as they know far more english than we know Croat, and we are in they're country. My favorite moment was when we had a captain's dinner at night in one of the harbors. Before deciding whether we wanted to eat on the boat or in the only restaurant in the small town we were stopping in, we, the passengers, wanted to know what was on the menu. 'Fish soup' said Marin, a tall slender Croat whose english surpasses the rest of the crew. 'Followed by a good fish dinner with begetables.' After eating fish in each town the past two days, lisa and I (and the rest of the passengers) wanted to know what kind of fish, just in case it was the same mackeral, bass and bream we had had for lunch repeatedly in the course of our Croatian odyssey. 'I do not know the name in English, but it is good, it is very good. It is a special fish. You know, sea fish.' We knew we couldn't win this battle so we all just kind of chuckled, as did Marin, and were happy to know when we returned for dinner that is was not just mackerel or bass, but a very special 'seafish' indeed. Something I still don't know the name of, but it had a red skin, was quite thick and for the first time on our trip, it was headless. Mmmmmm, delicious. With green bean 'begetables' and some of the captain's special liquor to begin the meal with.

Besides the persistent problems of communication, we are also constantly dealing with a little white substance that is particularly menacing. I had learned in chemistry class about the little ionic bond that was created when two totally opposite substances came together. With this bond, a new compound is formed, one which is white and grainy and tastes Oh so lovely when sprinkled on food dishes. Salt. The only problem is that our daily salt dosage exceeds what should be the maximum limit. This is not the salt found in our food (which is generally too little). No. It's the water that provides us with a sheer abundance of the spice. We stop for daily swims in beautiful bays and inlets and my only apprension that holds me back from plunging 30 feet off the top of our boat into the crystal clear water is the fact that when I get out and the burning afternoon sun dries my cool body, I will be preserved in enough salt to make King Tut proud. Just pick me up and shake me over your 'seafish.' Daily rinses are nice, but water is scarce and you just have to deal with the crunching, grainy surface that you're body becomes after a little dip in the water. I'm sure I'll survive and the one positive thing is that for the first time in my life, all the dissolved salt makes it possible for me to float quite easily. A consolation I'm happy to live with.

Hope all is well with each of you. My dad's birthday is on the 28th of July so leave him a happy birthday comment on the blog if you want. I'm not sure what age he is, but it's old.

We'll post again soon...sorry, no pictures today, the internet man said my bird poopie fingers have handled his kezboard (whoops!) long enough and besides I think I'll clog his USB port up with salt anzwaz (double whoops). bze-bze...