Location: Falmouth, Antigua
Surprise, I am back. Seeing as most of the staff actually don’t like writing the blog, and I do, I have been carefully plucked from the salty pit and sat in front of the chart house computer. As most of you probably don’t recall, Meg’s birthday was day 5. Thinking back to day 5, nobody knew each other’s name; I couldn’t tell the difference between Toph’s and Julian, and we were all a bit awkward. This meant Meg’s birthday was a little bit sad and kind of pathetic. When we sang, we all mumbled out a name to this girl we didn’t know. Other people’s birthdays would come, and everyone would talk about how great it was, but poor Meg talked about how nobody even knew her name on her birthday, so I made it my personal mission to give her a second birthday. With lots of help from Sam, many aborted missions, and a big idea, I knew we had to schedule Meg’s fake birthday on a day where I wrote the blog. Sam and I decided that today was the day (probably the last opportunity) to make it happen. So we got the OK for propane and made some brownies and decorated them just the same as the first time…full circle.
After speeding through the last Oceanography final, my day was spent dueling Meg in mancala. I would like to think that I won a majority of the games that we played, but in reality, I did. I was on fire… too hot to be stopped. I won game after game leaving Meg in the dust. Meg’s downfall was that she was becoming predictable in her rock paper scissors strategy. She thought she could trick me, but she played rock every time. It is said that winning mancala is more impressive than winning a game of chess, and I would have to agree. That took up many more hours than you would think; mancala is a time suck. For lunch, Jules made lentil sloppy joes… even after he knew how I felt about lentils. I am forgiving, though, and gorged down on whole wheat Hawaiian roles. We then had our last leadership discussion, which was a debate. I don’t remember what it started as, but it escalated to is big game hunting, okay. It ended suspiciously abruptly, and we had to head on deck to “put away provisions.” Ash pointed out that Sam and her dive kit were gone, and we had to spring into action. Our rescue diver/first aid/VHF skills were put to the test as Celia suited up to get in the water to dive and find Sam, her dive buddy, Grady, suited down. He decided the only appropriate attire to save Sam’s life was strictly his underwear. As I said before, it is not a phase, and Grady has deemed pants obsolete. I was the pointer/caller and had to call a MAYDAY. MIPDANIO came in handy to remind me of the steps, but actually not in handy because Katie’s version is much more memorable, and that is the version that stuck. The N stands for Never Give Up Hope, and I hold true to that. We got her back onto the Ocean Star, and although when she was found, she didn’t have a back injury, she might have one after being lifted onto the boat.
Now the night divers are suiting up for their last night dive. My green-eyed monster is popping out. I want to go, but there are no spots, so maybe I will go watch UP. Addisen will be joining me maybe. Maybe we will make cocoa.
Although I’m sure some of you wish it were, this will not be the last you will be hearing from me.
To Mom and Dad, I’m excited to see you.
Love, Keaton
p.s. sorry this is so scattered