How to tip your tattooist
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USAChapter 14 free porn video
The Seven transformed us from a schooner to a sloop and back again. South of Friar's Point, we settled in as the Vellamo.
Looking at the river from a European point of view the Mississippi doesn't make a lot of sense. If a border river changed its channel overnight in Europe, the residents of ... oh ... say ... France ... could find themselves in Germany or vice versa. Many years ago, it was a calamitous happening.
The River is the Border. Period.
In the US, the channel moves in mysterious ways and a change in location does not make a change of state. The river might wander to Hell and gone but you are still a resident of the state you were in before the switch.
(That was a gratuitous aside from consulting maps.)
There are no marinas in New Orleans. I know ... we looked ... and then searched and after that ... we hunted. There are NO marinas in New Orleans. No marinas ... no place to park the Vellamo. With no place to park we have to move on.
Coming within paint scrapings of Buttercup, a New Orleans river tug ... and being severely cussed at in the process ... the Captain, top hat and all, leaned out his window ... something THAT big is not a porthole.
He spit a huge stream of broadleaf tobacco juice out on the river and sang, "Jag ser din outfit som du är från Finland, (I see by your outfit that you are from Finland)," in Swedish ... he sang it.
Another huge gob hit the water. "Oletko eksynyt? (Are you lost?)" That in Finn.
"Vain yrittää löytää turvalliseen satamaan, joten en saa ajaa alas tupakan märehtiä hinaajan kuljettajia." ("Just trying to find a safe harbor so I don't get run down by tobacco chewing tugboat drivers.")
He laughed.
Then ... he lifted his battered top hat and drew a sleeve across his brow. He pulled out an enormous red farmer kerchief and wiped the sweat from the leather hat band. I could see he was stalling for time while he searched his memory.
"Colonel? Is that you? Colonel Valmaat? From the flight school?" he asked
"Yah, who is that?" I asked.
"Se olen minä! Luutnantti Tuobro." (It's me! Lieutenant Tuobro.") He stamped on the deck and half the crew came running.
There was a lot of talk and finger pointing; men were shaking their heads No and nodding Yes and money was put into the hands of a big wiper engineer.
"You follow me, Colonel. You can dock inside of the Buttercup. There aren't any places for pleasure craft in New Orleans ... riverside land is too expensive for rich people. We park SHIPS and not little dinghies."
"I'm not keeping you from your work?" I said.
"Naw, done for the day and heading in when you rammed us." He burst out laughing.
Following, we soon found a riverside Tee-wharf ... there were three tugs tied up to the river side of the wharf. Inboard, on the down riverside, there was a wreck of a tugboat ... down by the stern. I knew it was so much scrap. The upriver inboard side of the Tee was clear.
We pulled alongside of the Buttercup.
"What do you draw, Colonel?" A deckhand asked.
"Nine feet," I replied.
"Stay away from the bank and back down. We'll tie you up to the wharf."
I pulled Vellamo out into the current, spun her and motored up stream. Slowing, I let the current push me back, balancing the motion with the propeller, the transmission in forward. Wendy and the kids ran out on deck and started throwing dock lines. Soon we were snug ... safe from the faster current.
"Well," said Tuobro, "You do know a thing or two about a boat. Nicely done."
"Thank you," I said.
"Come on, Wendy ... Keri ... Art ... let me introduce you to Lieutenant Tuobro ... from the war."
Introductions were done in proper form and we were led away from the boat. There were cars in the lot and we were stuffed in a monstrous Delahaye extended sedan. All the cars followed.
Miracle
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