Ramblings at sea, on passage to the Marquesas

Just after sunup  I picked up 13 dead squid and 4 flying fish from the deck, a record number of squid so far for this delivery.  Every night flying fish and squid commit “suicide by boat” en mass and every morning I have to walk around just after sun up tossing them back before they become glued to the deck.

According to old sailors lore, the squid and flying fish are jumping toward the white sail, thinking it’s the moon, and if you shine you’re flashlight on the sail at night you’ll catch more. Why they’re jumping toward the moon I have no idea.  Why I’d want more squid or flying fish jumping aboard is also beyond me, they’re too small to be of any use, unless you’re really desperate.

Last night I also had a squid fly through the forward dodger window, which was open about 4″, and down through the companionway into the salon.  Of course I discovered this squid, with my right foot, when I came from taking a shower and was headed up into the cockpit to dry off, in total darkness.  The squid left me with a nice ink stain on the rug and a fishy smelling foot.
I’ve also been hit in the head before by both flying fish and squid, startling and smelly.


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