Digitally Restored by George Lucas

In an earlier post, I expressed the failure of me to get my update up before I left for camp, and the failure of my carefully designed snail-mail system to post my update after I arrived at camp. But now, after having finally retrieved my letters from Nicky's house, I'm free to display my letter in it's Digitally Restored form:

I was standing by the refrigerator in our dormitory when my friend Will, playing Ping-Pong, just flipped out. I mean, he totally snapped and started stripping, twirling his shirt around his head as he dashed from the room. He just lost it all of a sudden... A few minutes later he approached us and reported that his stray Ping-Pong ball had hit a wasp, which chased him away. I decided to write that up for all the fans of Brian Regan who would get the reference, but it's a true story.
Though still at camp, this college party lifestyle is a bit impressive. I was writing this, in a circle of couches around a TV (or example) when that same Will crept up to my friend Steak-yes, Steak-with a bottle of shaving cream as he slumbered. Fortunately for Steak, he awoke in time to thwart Will's plans. It seems most plans fail for better or for worse though, as last night, gathered around a bonfire, my friend Tim tried to light a flaming T on his chest using bug spray and a burning log. So this is what people in Maine do...
It has been weeks since this occurred, but I'd like to take this as an opportunity to write about my experience on the boat while it's still fresh in my mind:
Entering the Annapolis Ship's Preservation guild headquarters, disguised as members, I was astonished to discover my fellow ship lovers to be elderly men with wooden legs from WWII and more weight then the buffet table we were immediately confronted with. I figured that I should have expected no less, and sat down with my Aunt Rebecca and my Dad, who would be on board with me, and the two of my Dad's friends who drove us down to Annapolis.
After eating an excellent Eggs Benedict, I felt much better about my crew situation... And then the captain stood up. A relatively young man in his early forties, Rigel began a timid speech which ended in wild applause and vehement bellowing. Although I do remember a lot of the speech, I'll sum it up in one fairly accurate sentence: "If your family are all murdered by a pack of wild geese, and their remains are eaten by your pet, which soon dies of food poisoning, while your house is blown up in a gas explosion, you lose your money and dignity in a lawsuit against suspected insurance fraud, you're forced to sell your body on the street to feed your newfound heroin addiction, you can rest in the knowledge that your only purpose in the life is to serve the greatest ship ever built, The Gazela Primeiro." We were going on the Gazela Primeiro, and, needless to say, Rebecca and I were terrified for our lives. There's something you need to know before I continue. Rebecca is only six months older than I. That stumps quite a few people, and I won't bother to explain. Most people don't under-stand the principles of the Space Tim Continuum anyway. And, at this very moment, Rebecca was ready to run full throttle out the door and not stop until she was back in NY.
Presently, the large old men left the room, and I was left with the real crew, which was composed of, to my relief, ex-hippies, crazy middle-aged women, and one 15 year old girl named Jenny. Soon, we were water taxied out to the Gazela, and the fun began. Working the ship environment has to be one of the most interesting, exciting, and thrilling things I've ever done. We didn't even start motoring until the next day, we didn't even use our sails, despite our three masts, but every second out on the middle of the bay, the sense of the water controlling and owning you redefined my life to the point where land seemed foreign.
But don't think it was all fun and games, for as soon as night fell, it became an entirely different experience. We spent most of the day going over and through the various emergency procedures. (Man over board, Fire, and Abandon Ship.) We managed to complete each one successfully, although our milk carton, serving as a man, drunk a lot of water in the rescue process. But as dinner led to jumping off the galley into the water below, daytime soon led to night. (Galley to water was a 17 foot drop, by the way.)
As darkness fell over the water and Rebecca, Jenny, a few ex-hippies and myself swam now in the glow of stadium lights, off the distant shore. And inside the boat, nothing was natural after lights out. Creeping around in the bottom of the boat, my guides were the soft glows of red lights.
I slept in the bottom of a triple bunk, closed in entirely by walls on three sides and a blue curtain, with about two feet of vertical room. Or at least, tried to sleep. I actually managed to get very little sleep. Amongst the smoldering heat and cramped confinement, I wasted the hours between 12:00, when I went to bed, and 2:15 when I finally went to sleep...
I was shaken awake ten minutes later to prepare for my shift.
When night blends into morning it seems that there is no transition in day, and simply a change of scene. From 2:30 to 4:00, I wasn't entirely alone. I was accompanied by the moon, the stars, and an older man who fell asleep on duty several times.
At 4:00 I woke everyone else up and we pulled anchor and set out for the Delaware.
***
Later this year, at camp, I accompanied the Sr. campers on a windy two day mountain trip. On the end of the second day, the leaders of the pack, myself included, were waiting up ahead in a clearing for the slower campers. From our rocky view of the mountain range, we watched as the clear sky began to attract clouds, which congealed and curdled before our eyes, darkening and approaching faster every second. A roaring sound began softly in the distance, slowly growing louder.
A camper announced he needed to go to the bathroom and walked out to the nearby woods. Moments later, we heard a scream and the rain was upon us. That was the fastest I've ever been drenched, apart from jumping into a large body of water. It literally soaked me through and through in less than two seconds. And I was in the same position on the boat, wet to the bone and at the helm of the Gazela Primeiro.
We pulled into the dock several hours later, the crew all hardened sailors. It was sad to leave the old barkentine with my newly developed sea-legs, but I now anticipate the time in which I can sail her once more.