Location: Secret Bay, St Vincent
Hello friends,
Today was one of those scrum-diddly-umchess kinda of days. Fresh off a night dive, which was just werewolf bar mitzvah spooky scary, we had a deep dive in the morning. Now, 2021 was a great year for the St. Vincent drip, obviously, but did you know Sara Palin loves the smell of fossil fuels? I hear giggles and brup, but I am dead serious. Back to the dive, after we each performed our testicular torsion off the boat and into the water, we began our 406 descent. It’s hard to truly describe what an alien world it is below the waterline.
Faster than you could say, “My man-go is to blow up and act like I don’t know nobody agagagag,” we were surrounded by strange life. Periwinkles, banana slugs, eunuchs, and monkey tassels were all around us. We even spotted a John. Of course, the most beautiful fish around was the ever-elusive, slippery dick. Candy corn lined the seafloor in geometric patterns, not helping with the narcosis. In fact, our Skipper had such bad narcosis that he just kept chanting “open-source data for gravity battery data please” in a rhythmic vibrato, which was strange because we were underwater, after all, nearly 100 feet actually.
When we emerged once more into the world of Hannah Montana and Obama-phone, we were reminded of the grim truth that Charlie likes twinkies. I must also admit, with great sorrow in my carrot, that yes, the rumors are true. This island is indeed hotter than a hootchie coochie. But there are moments, however small when Skipper angers the gods with his ever-present ooze of steeze and talk of gravity batteries. When this happens, a great rain pours down upon us. Now, while there is indeed tranquility to this, some refuse to get wet on a boat. This is a problem, and so, in this era of necromancy, we dabble ever sooooo slightly in human sacrifice. Oh, hush. What’s the harm? You act as though you’ve never engaged in a little smut before.
Cowboys and granolas will whisper that here, aboard Vela, our primary means of propulsion are wind and sail. I’m here to put an end to this propaganda campaign in which cruelty knows no bounds. Can you keep a secret? I thought so. It’s the goblet of fire which we harness, and we keep it in the bilge.
With student-led passages upon the horizon, a new era is upon us. Before long, we will be back into the stick check, hip check, boat check, ferda lifestyle bud.
Until then
over and out,
Garrett Walker
And in all seriousness, this being my last blog post of this voyage, I want to give a special shoutout to my family back home. To my sister and biggest inspiration, Mady, and my parents, I love you. Thank you for all the support. Also, my dog Zara, I will see you soon!
Photo 1: Deadliest Catch
Photo 2: Elle and Zoe down under
Photo 3: Joe Dives