I am currently traveling by sailboat (Singlehanding 33' Gaff rigged cutter) from NY harbor to Melbourne, FL.
I am currently close to the SC-GA border.
I am blogging the trip and creating musical sketches as I go along. I seldom have enough Internet access to post to Contrebombarde, but since this evening I do, I will upload some of the pieces. In general, they are quasi-improvisatory, for HW organ, synthesizers and found audio.
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He ... or she ... But please, not it... was one of my stowaways the other day. A particularly wet, blustery day and I had all kinds of creatures hitching a ride.
I took care of them the best I could, moving them to the few dry places in the cockpit - placing them on dry cloths so the capillary action would dry their tiny wings (this works very well, by the way). So Little Yellow Bug first landed on my tiller hand and seemed quite happy there. Strangely active although "standing" in one place - his ... or her antennae waved about curiously. A charming insect. I wish I had gotten a picture but I was a bit busy at the time. I tried to move her... or him... into one of the dry places for the duration but s/he would have it. So s/he flew to the cockpit sole grating (just strips of teak really) and that seemed as good a place as any.
I didn't think much more of LYB for awhile - I had a boat to try to keep upright. Later, when things were calm and I was straightening up all the things that had been disheveled. I found LYB - crushed by one of my gas cans. They're tied down but it must have shifted somewhat and crushed LYB where she... or he... was hiding.
Now you may laugh and say that I am a sentimental fool or overly emotional and I'm sure you'd be right - but I felt such a sense of loss. Even guilt. I should have tied those gas cans more tightly. As I held the tiny crushed insect in my hand wishing more powerfully than you can imagine, that it was still alive, the breeze carried him... or her... Away.