August 2008

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I bought this to go with my other favourite Irish ingestible: Red Breast. Cheese and whiskey? Sure, why not. Anyways, the Vintage Dubliner is exactly as Wikipedia describes: “It combines the sharpness of mature cheddar, the nuttiness of Swiss, and piquant bite of Parmesan…”.
And yes, it pairs with the whiskey rather well.

Log notes

I’ve been slowly transcribing the Ship’s Log from Centaurea and publishing it to this site. The posts are in chronological order, and back-published to the days they were written on. To view them all, try this category link.

By request, a few notes for those of you not used to the format and abbreviations: The positions are given in degrees/decimal minutes rather than the older degrees/minutes/seconds. SoG stands for “Speed over Ground”, and is an instantaneous reading from the Maretron GPS. CoG is “Course over Ground”, also an instantaneous GPS reading, given in degrees true. Occasional reference is given to degrees “C”, which is a reading from the steering compass. This compass was never properly/accurately swung aboard this vessel, but seemed to conform to the usual 11-15 degrees of west deviation found in that part of the world.
Speeds are given as “kts”; knots, while distances are given in “nm” (nautical miles).

Our initial course was pretty basic: due north from St. Croix, passing through the Virgin Islands, then on a generally NNW rhumbline direct to the mouth of the Chesapeake. Of course, as you read through, you’ll see that we are diverted from that line towards Bermuda… A “rhumbline” is simply the shortest straight-line distance between a starting and ending point (actually, it’s a little more complicated, but this explanation serves for the purposes of this log).

The bits in [brackets] are added as i type this out, for some clarity. Passages marked [CJ] were Cory’s entries into the log. As I finish up transcribing the log, I’ll add in some further anecdotal information, as well as the transcripts from MSC Malaysia and RCC Bermuda.

This evening I am enjoying a quarter pound of this ridiculous cheese all to myself. I have no justification for doing so, other than the fact that I like cheese, and this is pretty damn good cheese, and that the girl from whom purchase all my specialty cheeses has been known to gleefully giggle and prance when I come into sight.
There will certainly be more cheese in my future, as well as some revisiting of previously-consumed cheesely delights. Stay tuned.


our heroine has lost her love but not has not lost her love.
did you hear that? it happened just as i said.
our heroine has lost her light but has not lost her light. did you hear that too? it’s true, just as it happened to you.

what else can i say about her?
her name could be jo or francis or even elizabeth.
there’s really no way of knowing; i just tell the story.
words write themselves, the sun rises and the sun sets.
something is lost, something is found.

we could start this story at the beginning, but that’s not where our heroine resides.


smooth the pleats and fold the linen.
hold the hem tightly and turn down at the seam.
press this here, the collar.
push back the errant hair. turn, stand and hold. the pose.

don’t forget to smile. you’re such a pretty girl when you smile.

sometimes she feels that all she can see of the world are snapshots of missing pieces and that the greater whole is an image forever lost to her.


a camera is nothing more than a light-proof box equipped with some device for letting in light. in the simplest of cameras, there is only a small pinhole to admit light. a plain flap over this pinhole is opened and closed to control the amount of light that enters the interior of the camera.


>click< she enters this place, our heroine, and places just one tear in just one special place. tears are wetter than other waters. tears soak right through darkness. tears are the universal solvent. where once there was stone, now there is sand. tears wore down the pyramids. >click< where once she caught light now she tries to remember how to forget. You’re probably hoping that she’ll learn to forgive as well, but it’s really to early in this story to tell. >click< did she ever, for just one soiled second, ever regret that thing that passed her by, leaving her where she was? was she supposed to go further? was she supposed to suffer just a little more? >click< does pleasure always come with a penance? >click< a flower is such a perfect thing. it grows and grows without knowing what it will become. it dies away never knowing how beautiful it once was. what could be more wonderful? >click< all things are temporary, all things are transient. every beam of light eventually bounces and scatters. >click< sometimes two things grow together. they share the same soil. waters freely find them both. nothing separates them. nothing binds them. >click< two trees are growing in the yard, so close together that you might think they grew from the same roots. one is a maple, the other an elm. she never looked closely at the trees until >click< the day before the day before yesterday >click< when she looked up high. the two trees could not share the air; canopies rub away canopies until just one clear inch of one clear space separates a leaf of one shape from a leaf of another. >click< 4 a heart is nothing more than a love-proof box equipped with some device for letting in love. in the simplest hearts, there is only a small pinhole to admit love. a plain flap over this pinhole is opened and closed to control the amount of love that enters the heart. 5.6 the petals love the light as the light loves the petals. didn’t you ever notice this? it’s true, it’s true: they catch the light from the sun, make it more beautiful, and throw it back at you. 8 our heroine is in transition. she’s moving from one place to one more place to another one more place. she’s not moving at all. she’s afraid that leaving love might mean leaving love behind. 11 >click< take this light-proof box, with all has held. are you the one to give it away again? >click< when she caught light, and when she kept it, she might have thought that she could keep it forever. >click< when the light is gone, only the images remain. will her pictures cast their own light upon the world? there’s no way of knowing. >click< forever is both longer and shorter than it seems. >click< 16 our heroine is struggling to cast light, throw light, loose light upon the world. so, perhaps, there is hope for her yet. 22 >click< she takes up the box. It is not so much heavy as awkward. she squints, sets the aperture and shutter speed. the cloth hood breathes silence against her face. the image is inverted, but not so far away. >click< change poses. point towards the horizon. >click< this is the sun. this is the sun shining. this is the light, so so warm and she’s running towards it. tears do nothing more than evaporate, sublimate. there isn’t even steam. the light won’t allow it. >click< redemption comes less like a lover and more like a swallow. split wings sing, duck, dance and weave. there’s a second chance at everything that flies. >click< 32 black, red, black. the color of her stocking feet. each step is a step closer to a home of her own. >click< the rest will be her story to tell.

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