Merismus

Merismus (mer-is’-mus): The dividing of a whole into its parts.

The yacht was sinking; there was the flying bridge, above deck, below deck, and the hull. The hull was torn open when we ran aground trying to shortcut through the “Devils Darning Needle” as the tidewas going out. We were idiots. All the people on shore at the Ocean Point Inn were laughing and pointing. We were embarrassed. We were stuck on the rock stove in the hull.

To top it off, I had a wicked case of diarrhea. The head was under water, so I had the hang my naked ass over gunwale and let it rip. Some wise guy on shore had a bullhorn addressed me: “Poopeye the Sailor Man, is that bilge water?” I was totally embarrassed and angry too. I went below and got the flare gun.

I was going to hit him in the gut with some red fire. I had thoughts about it and aimed over his head. The flare hit the side of the restaurant attached to hotel and exploded in a giant ball of red fire. The restaurant was burning. I could hear the fire trucks coming, wailing their “bee, boo, bee, boo” sound.

I yelled, “That’ll show you you sorry bastards!” Then, I realized I was standing there naked with a flare gun in my hand. I was screwed. I was the sorry bastard.

I went below.

The water was down all way now. It was slack tide, and the hole in the hull was above water and fairly easy to access. . So, I went work. I got the toolbox. I had a battery powered drill/screwdriver, four-inch screws, a hand saw, super glue, and caulk—the only part missing was the patch. I grabbed a chair, sawed off the legs and seat back, and now I had patch—the chair bottom was the patch. I yelled to my brother to make sure the bilge pumps were running. He assured me that they were.

I screwed the chair bottom over the hole, slathered in super glue. It dried almost immediately. Then, I caulked around the edges. I went above deck.

The fire was out and had done very little damage. The Coast Guard showed up to tow us Samples’ shipyard for proper repair. It took awhile, but the tide turned and we floated off the rocks. The patch held, The Coast Guard towed us in and I was arrested for arson.

The trial date came. My plea was temporary insanity brought on by having severe diarrhea and ruining my beloved “Ruth II” (named after my dear mother) aground, and ripping a hole in her, followed by being taunted as “Poopeye” by some fat bastard summer puke wielding a bullhorn. My jury, consisting solely of locals from the Harbor, found me not guilty,

Ruth II is back on the water good as new. I’ll never try to beat the Devil’s Darning Needle again.