A ship of fools

By Jack Elliott
Correspondent

It may be a new virus being spread by this year’s crop of mosquitoes, but the silly season seemed to have infected the usual gathering at the Bakery in Drizzle Creek the other week. The early morning shift was spread around the tables instead of clustering at the debating table and I suggested what they needed was a little more community spirit to kind of bring them together. Maybe a new community project. Then the idea hit me as Captain Willie delved into his memories of the Ark.
Now were not talking about the one Noah commanded. Willie might be old, but not that old. We’re talking about the one that has been docked at Morson for the last few decades since Captain Willie quit piloting it around Lake of the Woods.
“Too bad. It’s just sitting there rusting away. It’ll probably sink at its moorings,” lamented Captain Willie as he accepted a refill and trowelled the condiments onto his toast.
The air was heavy with doom and then in a flash it hit me.
“Why don’t we do something about it? We could take ‘er back to sea,” I offered as the first rush of caffeine began surging through my bloodstream.
“We’ll make her a pirate ship. Take a page from those Somali guys and seize ships out on the Lake of the Woods. Hold ‘em for ransom. Should we start with the HMS Kenora or start with something smaller?” I wondered aloud as the plan began to bubble and ferment.
“We could be the last Rainy River Timber Pirates, but we’d better do this right if we are going to hoist the Jolly Roger over these waters,” I reasoned.
Willie was giggling by now.
“Of course Cap’n Black Willie here will need a little fixing up. Anybody got an eye patch and a parrot? Maybe we’ll need to whack of a leg as well. What’s a pirate captain without a peg leg,” I added as I tucked into my toast.
Willie looked nervously around the room and then downing the last of his coffee stated, “I’d better head for home while I can still walk.” And made a beeline for the door.
There goes another one of my good ideas. Lack of community vision.
However, the day was young and as the previous day had been the Runt’s last official run on the railroad, I suspected there might be some other good ideas afloat. The second shift wandered in and sure enough within minutes, to celebrate the Runt’s retirement, Pickle had organized a fishing expedition. The Runt and his boat (it’s fixed now), Pickle, Moose and Bugs all decided to take a little sail later that evening. I wasn’t invited. Not sure why.
By the appointed hour it was brewing up a little thunder boomer so Bugs chickened out.
“Are you crazy going out in this weather? There’s enough static in the air to make your hair stand on end,” snorted Bugs as he refused to get out of his truck.
Pickle, the Runt, and Moose all removed their hats and demonstrated there was absolutely no problem as there was no hair standing on end. In fact there was no hair period.
As you might imagine, the fishing expedition didn’t last too long. They’re not a very tough lot, but they didn’t catch their limit. Pickle caught a bedspring, the Runt caught the anchor.
And Moose he had to give up after losing his lure. The end of his line looked a little ratty so he cut it off and retied his lure before tossing it in. Only trouble was he had tied to the piece he cut off. He’s still crying over the lost lure.
The bad news is, I’m still waiting for those packages of walleye filets I was promised. But the good news Captain Willie, is I think I’ve found you a perfect crew. We’ll re-christen the Ark- The Ship of Fools.