The Range-Light and Tinderboxes

Almost off this temporary stint aboard the USNS Waters... but I got in some good overtime.  44 Hours above and beyond this past straight-time 56 hour work week.  Below you can see the mast I spent three days chipping, priming, and painting in the hot Florida sunshine.  I have spent hours looking at it from the bridge while driving random and pointless courses in the Bermuda Triangle, and the rust has itched like a scab, begging to be picked.

Painting the foremast from a bosun's chair... 

Of interest to anyone who has read my earlier posts:  The bosun aboard right now was a sailor on my first ship.  A sailor I referred to as the "Wrestler" talked a lot of crap about this guy (lazy, worthless, weasle, etc.), but classic psychological projection being what it is, this guy happens to know the job and isn't a lazy, worthless, weasle... things the "Wrestler" actually turned out to be.  This guy is kinda goofy (aren't we all?), but there isn't any harm in him and I'd sail with him again without reservation.

So far, as a sailor, there isn't a single bridge I've burned (or not burned) that I wouldn't burn again (or not, as the case may be)... actually, there are some I should have burned sooner.  But that's just water under this metaphorically combustible and fire-prone structure.